#2. I wanted to open my fic with something strong (I started halfway through) and I ended up quoting… a fictional author | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Text

"Mine." || Part 2.

Summary: Din shows you who you belong to just to discover something life changing.

Warning/Content: 18+ ONLY. NSFW. Fingering, oral (female receiving/male receiving), P in V, a hint of degration, slight breeding kink, dirty talk, ROUGH SEX. Dom!Din, jealous!Din and tatted Din. I would add another tag but it would give away the ending.

Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader

Part 1.

A/N: I also do not ever write smut, this is my first fic with full sex in it so if something does not seem right please, please let me know. Thank you, hope you all enjoy!

His lips don't give in, pressing his tongue until it feels heavy against your own. Fingertips unforgivable as they sting your skin with how rough he was moving your face for he had a better angle to kiss you at. He's ruthless, pissed, marking his territory, claiming you his.

Anger warmed his whole body and honestly he wasn't even sure it was jealousy anymore just the sheer fact that life has separated him from you and from his son, it's unfair. As he pulls away, brown eyes dark with meaning, lips bruised and puffy from your own. "Tell me." He urges, "You're mine, I want to hear you say the words."

Dins’s eyes following every movement of your eyes as they move from the creases in his forward to the facial hair that peppered his jaw. "You know I'm yours. I'll forever be yours Din."

His eyes are starting to soften but find you reaching for his hand to press it against the thick colum of your throat and squeezing fingers over his feeling the air restrict just enough it burns for there is just enough air passing through, making you dizzy. The deep burn of desire inside the deepest pit of your stomach just wanting him to fuck you hard, remind you that your place is with him; imaging sitting on his lap on the golden throne he will soon own, truthfully where ever the hell he wants you because you without a doubt are putty in his hands. "Please remind me, I need it so bad."

Finding yourself blaming it on how sexy he is when he's angry, the way his cheeks colored red as he pulled on the your hair, forcing you too look at him as he asked if you fucked another man. It may be that the separation from the man weighed heavy on your heart. Seven months is a long time, the lingering desire to grow. Satisfying yourself didn't even come close to him.

The soft moan against your open mouth from the words is enough to have you soaking, fingers dip into the soft fabric of the tunic, harsh fingers grasp the tie of the robe and when it doesn't budge rips it right off, throwing it over his shoulder with a snarl against your lips. "You missed me sweet girl, you need me?."

"Yes."

"Maker -." He gasps at the feeling of small hands cupping his erection through his pants, hips bucking to meet them with certainty, lips hot against your own with one goal. "Greedy girl. Not happy unless she's touching a cock."

The way he talks as if you're not even there, patronizing but oh, it makes you mewl and tut hips against his hardness which throbs underneath you. A fire inside ignites with an endless flame, desire seeping to form into the throb between your legs. A problem that only he can fix. Absolutely starved for him, his touch, his lips as they press your own. Moaning softly with praises for his good girl.

His hands arr greedy as they cup your breasts, pinching the nipples a little to rough until they puff and sting, it hurts but he doesn't seem to care much as Lips press against the warmth of your neck, kissing, nipping any part of skin he can manage, purple marks left it the wake, tongue soothing the bruising skin, heart stammering against his chest at the thought of Luke seeing them. His voice is rough, calculating as the pads of his fingers lift your face from seeing what he's doing from you using the plam of his hand to angle it towards the headboard. "You want to see? I don't think you deserve it, haven't been a good girl. From what I remember you picked his side over mine."

"Did.." You try to speak but the thigh between your own stops you, heavy as it presses against your clit and makes you gasp. "...Not."

"Surely did but look at you now. I wonder what he would think if he saw how cock dumb you get." Din's’s hand falls between both of your legs to his hard member squeezing it through his pants, throbbing under his own palm.

He's teasing, testing the waters to see a reaction out of you, he's so so close but biting the inside of your cheek manage to stay quiet.

It has to be quick as hands press against the mattress under you, tightening your trunk to use the new found strength he didn't know about to flip yourself from under him. Din is quicker though, halfway through pulling you closer for it's impossible to escape his arms, pulling you to straddle him as his back lands on the bed with a huff.

You really do try to move but he's just too strong, hair filling the gaps between his fingers as he pulls your lips against his again, teeth clashing as a moan vibrates his chest. "You're not going anywhere cyar'ika."

Anchoring yourself against his lips, pushing down roughly on his hardness as you cry against his lips as a hand lands on your ass, skin taunt and red instantly at the roughness.

"You're upset." Words whispered against his chest, fingers running over the outline of the square jaw teasingly, tongue reaching out to lick it. He feels his own eyes roll into the back of his head with a whimper. "Let me make it up to you, I wanna taste you in my mouth again."

Muscles scream and ache, sore already from his brutal grip but it's the least of anyone's concern as you sink into knees between his large, muscular thighs squeezing them teasingly. Mouth pressing over the cloth covered skin of his inner thighs, mouthing him through the fabric as his face turns red. His fist roughly tightening in hair until it's so tight it hurts when he pulls your head back to pick your haze towards his face. "Don't tease me girl, you're not going to like what happens if you keep it up brat."

Your mouth waters watching his taunt muscles bunch the fabric of his shirt at the collar pull the beskar and shirt in one go careless of where it lands. He's bare now, muscularly lean as his hips press himself into your hand, a reminder of the task but you can't find yourself to look away from the tanned, creamy chest right above his heart, eyes reaching the black lines of words. "Another one?"

The one on his neck was large, a symbol of what he claimed was leadership but in plain English right above his heart made your heart beat faster. Shaky fingers trace the curves of letters on his pec, skin soft. Your name, it was healed and black already starting to fade, it's been there for some time now. Heart stammers against his chest as he hears the softness of your tone, "Why?"

"It belongs to you, I thought it was only right."

Despite the swelling of your heart finger’s play with the waist band of his pants before curling around them pulling them just enough that they're almost revealing his throbbing erection but his finger's cupping your jaw hault all actions forcing you to look at him through hooded eyelids. "I want to hear you want it."

“Please.” A shock of pleasure running straight through his body to his throbbing cock, “Can I touch you? I wanna suck you off, please, please let me.”

You must look pathetic on your knees, eyes welting with tears of the new found discovery on his chest, bottom lips slightly pouting that he stopped you in the first place. Big doe like eyes never leaving his, you sound so fucked. "Please..."

A small groan leaves the half naked man's throat pressing his thumb against your chin roughly, while his other fingers leaving a trail along their wake on their way to your breast cupping gently, teasing you just a little more.

The way he stares at you, as you wait for any gesture, any tilt of his head to say you can. He's testing you seeing if you're even capable of behaving but little does he realize when it came to him his girl would so anything he asks. It's intimating, feeling his eyes shift over you, tall even sitting down, towering actually.

“Fine, only because you asked like a good girl." Din's finger help you as he lifts his hips to move the pants and boxers up and over his ass and to the floor leaving him completely bare. After so many months it's a beautiful sight, hard, throbbing under your touch, an angry pink that just wants relief.

Tongue meets the delicate skin of his balls first, a soft huff of relief falling from his lips as you continue to lick a stride against them, taking one into your mouth almost as fast.

The Mandalorian actually chokes, the feeling of you after so long as him falling from his elbows to lay flat against the bed. Hands gathering your hair into a messy pony tail, not only for a better view but to taunt that he can take control anytime.

He's about to warn you about teasing him again when he feels a small kiss against his inner thigh but his tip pushing past your lips as him bitting down on his lip so hard he swears he tasting blood. "Sweet girl, so-- good."

The mixture of salty pre-cum and saliva makes it easy to move him past your lips until he reaches the deepest part of your throat, holding him there a few seconds to taste the saltiness of him until your nose feels the dark hairs of his abdomen Warm and tight around him, fingers gripping harder as his hips involuntarily buck into you deeper, choking you until eyes start to water.

After that you waste no time taking him inside your mouth to the point that your lips were completely around him as him he hits the back of your throat with every stroke. Adding his own hips to the mixture as the intense feeling of your gagging only vibrates against him, the sounds that fill the room are filthy, wet and slippery as spit begins to dribble down your chin.

"Maker --." He squeezes his eyes shut feeling the distant building of heat run down his legs, warm his belly. "Did you think about this? Think --." He can't even finish a sentence with how deep you take him, throat already staring to ache but every time his cock pierces the threshold of your throat soothing it instantly. "Think about sucking me off?"

Head nodding frantically as one of your hands slip just to relieve the pressure between your legs but his own around your wrist stops you. A soft whine makes around him makes it almost impossible to push away but with every ounce of self control he has he pulls his throbbing cock from your mouth, the thick line of spit that comes that connects you two makes him want to explode on your face right there.

Din pulls you up by your arm onto his lap once again as fingers waste no time to reach between your legs, thee slick of your wetness coating the tips of his fingers as he pulls the pants from your hips. “You're so wet honey, is this all for me?"

He doesn't even give you the chance to reply as fingers dip down to your wet slit, sticking a finger in your gaping hole a quarter of the way with one goal in mine to coat them in some wetness before slipping it past his lips, wanting a taste. "Just as sweet as I remember, want you to taste."

With his face only inches from your own, it's so filthy. The way he pulls his fingers from between lips, his own string of spit as the appendages slip past your own lipsb rolling against your tongue before closing your lips around them. “Such a dirty girl aren’t you?”

The heat of Din's chest flushing your breast is enough to have you dizzy with bliss. He's so sexy like this, confident, radiates with new found power that turns you to putty in his hands.

You can't help as you lean forward to capture his lips again tongue eagerly meeting his. Din kisses back instantly, the taste of you being exchanged passionately through the heated kiss as hands falling to the back of your hair, tugging it gently as hips buck as you lower yourself against his cock. At this point Din feels his heart pounding against his chest, doesnt believe the way you dry hump, he wouldn't even call it that: the wetness that soaks his thighs is anything but dry.

It almost physically hurts not being inside of you, hot a ready against you, gentle fingers hook at your hips effortlessly flipping your whole body weight until your hands and head push against the softness of the mattress using fingers to bring your ass towards him until it's presses against his own bare hips. “Ass up baby.”

Din couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, naked, pussy in the air for him, ready to be used in any way he sees fit. A rough hand kneading the flesh of your ass cheek, other one coming up to spank you so hard you gasp as it sends tingles of pain down sore legs. His lips coming down to the point of attack pressing a small kiss against it, then using his hand to run over the bubbling spot, welt red with pulsing pain. “You looked so pretty with your lips around me around my cock but seeing red with my marks makes me want to destroy you."

"Please, please.." At this point you don't know what you're begging for but Din's not ready to give up that easy, he's not done reminding you that you are without a doubt his.

A large hand guides down your back feeling the grooves of your spine against his own fingertips until hand reached the back of your neck with one hard grab but then down back down until he reaches your ass kneading both cheeks so close to your throbbing heat. A lingering blaze of heat where his fingers were as he pushes your head deeper into the matress. "Beg me to touch you needy girl. I don't think I'm convinced you want me anymore."

"I do." The clock of his tongue tells you he's disappointed, panic tearing through your throat as his finger moved further from where you need him most, tears of frustration prickling eyes as his hand pushes your head deeper into the mattress. “No! No -- please touch me. I want it, need you so bad, lay here every night thinking of it." With one last crack of your voice words spewing at any effort of some type of relief. "Do whatever you want to me, fill me up bear, I wanna be yours.."

It's only for a second, the way he tenses and throbs between your ass cheeks, chest doesn't dare move, not believing the words that came from your mouth. Soft kisses against the back of your thighs, lip meeting with your clit that sends a shock up your spine, goosebumps breaking out at the euphoric feeling. Din didn’t waste any time as he puckers his lips and sucks on your heat, tongue trusting inside of your tight hole enjoying the sounds coming from you as he mumbles against you, "Want me to fill you up sweet girl? Want my seed deep in you?"

Wet, sloppy noises falling from where his lips connect to you the sounds he was making with his lips and tongue are almost sinful as a rush of heat runs through your body hand coming down on your ass, a little awkward at this position but it's more to show how serious he is. "Answer me."

"Yes! Oh, yes! I want you to feel you all night."

The tip of Din’s tongue flickers the soft bundle of nerves making you mewl, his finger filling you snuggly and to the brink without warning, not wasting any time they leave only to come back and reach that spot in that makes your eyes roll back into your head. The sounds falling from between your legs were heavenly, wetness dripping from your thighs to the bed but he could care less about right now.

“I’m gonna cum.” The devilish smirk was not visible to your own eyes as pulls his finger from the wetness, eyes running over your swollen pussy puffy with pleasure.

"Wha?” The orgasm haze was starting to take over leaving you slightly drowsy as tears sting with frustration groaning into the pillow trying to lift your head but Din's hand in your hair prevents that pressing you back against the soft material.

“Good girl take what they're given." He growls harshly but the gentle kisses against your neck say otherwise; soft and wet soothing the spot where he grabbed earlier. Words dangerous as lips chaste over your ear, "You can remember that the next time you stick up for him."

Din is kneeling between your thighs, leg against your inner knee spreading your legs just enough for he can fit. Arching your back against him, silently begging to end your misery already.

The sounds of his hand using your wetness to jerk himself off behind you otherresting against your ass and squeezing the softness. He doesn't give any warning, the sudden feeling of a burning but pleasurable stretching causing a small gasp to fall from lips swollen from all the biting from the previous finger fucking.

Din’s finger come behind you to tease the bundle of nerves, making your whine as he sinks every inch of his cock until he's nestled so deep it's hard to breath. It's a delicious burn, one that makes you so light headed it's hard to even form words. "Maker, Din."

Din's hands rest against the swells of your ass, eyes tilting towards the filthy sight of him snuggly pressing into you, testing the waters with one deep, slow thrust. The sound you make is straight up sinful, makes him groan on his own accord as you clench around him.

Hips snap faster watching his cock disappear and reappear into your silky opening over and over again a wave of pleasure tingling his spine every time he hits the spot that makes you dumb. He wants to comment on it but can't form words at the sight of his cock covered in your arousal, it has his thighs shaking with heat, stomach stirring with the familar feeling of relief, his whole body on fire. With every push of hips, strokes steady, long and rough hitting to fill you every single time.

The sounds falling from you mixed with pleasure and pain but it felt so good having him in you again. Din loves it, hips rolling into you, pussy dripping between the two of you, smearing his thighs, leaking down yours. Eyes trained your bouncing ass as he listens to the squeals of his name.

Back arching pushing him deeper inside of you to hit that spot that makes you cry as a hand rest against the small of back giving him a better angle to fuck you senselessly. “Din, oh maker, so fucking good."

"Yeah sweetheart? Missed me huh?"

Nails digging into the flesh of your hip as sweat begins to bead on his forehead and chest, heat washing over his whole body as he feels himself grow closer and closer to giving you want you want most. “i’m so close bear, please let me..” you manage to mumble as the pleasure pinches your voice hoping he doesn't steal this one from you as well.

"Want me to fill you up sweet girl? Tell me you want it.

"I want it so bad, want to feel you for weeks." There is no doubt in any of your minds you will.

"Come for me, give it to me." Your orgasm hits you instantly clenching around him so hard he chokes. Din on the other hand continues to drive his cock deep inside of you a small whine falling from his lips.

With the last of his trust he explodes, cum lining you, filling you to the brink. Maker, there's so much as it drips between you and onto the bed, he doesn't dare move trying to keep whatever he can manage in. Taking a second to recover with heavy pants against your back before fingers hook around you turning you to face him as you both breath with heavy breaths.

Sagging into the matress completely spent, chest rising and falling to match the pattern of your thumping heart. Eyes blurring in a haze even though it's only temporary your limbs feel heavy as a gentle hand cups your cheek tilting your head in which you can only guess his direction. Din doesn't move, keeps himself burried deep inside of you, not daring to break the warmth he's missed.

"Are you with me Cyar'ika?" The post sex haze wearing away but he's till blurry, you're too tired as eyes slowly begin to shut.

"I want to go with you. I want to go home."

There was no home, Din knew exactly what the words meant, a metaphor for himself, he would forever be your home. It was sweet, made him warm and blush but lazy lips trail from your shoulder pressing his face into your neck with a sigh, words whispered breathlessly. "You belong here, I will come back when you are ready."

"I don't want you to leave." The words are hard to process as hot tears slip past your eyes flushing the cold skin of his cheek.

The way the words sound so broken, gasped out with emotion is soul crushing. Din presses his face deeper, cheek against cheek as the tears burn. "I'll try and visit more.. it won't be another seven months. Luke will have a way to communicate with me for emergencies." He pauses, hands rubbing over your hair to comfort in any way that would help, lifting his face until your nose bumps his own. "I wouldnt able to live with myself letting you leave here yet... You have come so far, you have so much more to accomplish my sweet girl."

"Stay an extra day." Tomorrow morning was coming too fast, it breaks your heart knowing it would be months before laying eyes on your Mandalorian again. Din turns his head not being able to look you in the eyes that he can't, he promised Bo-Katan that he needed one day then he would be back to the war, it was bad timing as it is. The sniffles against his neck, the whine as he shifted inside her once again made him crack. "Anything for you baby, I love you so much. I'm sorry for before, did I hurt you? I -."

"It's okay, It's been a long time Din, I understand. It was perfect." It's doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand, the uncertainty of seven months and you couldn't find yourself to blame him.

It's funny how missing someone works, it's been weeks since he's left but in the morning you find yourself not being able to move from the bed, the sheets still smell like him. Remember all the soft spoken words, the promises that he'll be back to you home, to him where you belonged.

Luke sits in front of you, Grogu on his lap as you try and concentrate but the small hands against your stomach make you frown, head tilting down at the green fingers that coo softly. He's been doing that very often lately. What a weird little creature.. cute but weird.

The soft huff that falls from Luke makes you pause, now question his eyes with your own. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, accomplishing what you failed to do. The force is strong with him, murmuring things of the past and impending future.

Now his hand covers the child's who lays his forehead against it. "He senses life. I feel it."

The words stun you, momentarily pausing as your mouth falls open. "I saw the future, I saw your baby due in months time. Another generation of Jedi."

And the heir to the Mandalorian throne.

#din djarin fan fiction #the mandolorian imagine #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian #the mandolarian #din djarin

749 notes · View notes

chibsytelford · 3 years

Text

Requested by anon - Hear me out. What about a fic where the reader is related to one of the sons (maybe chibs or tig?) And they broke up with her long-term boyfriend and had to move into a clubhouse dorm but since hapoy recently patched over , they spend alot of time together and things happen between them(if you get what i mean😏) and eventually she sleeps in his dorm almost evey night but they keep is secret from the others because they dont know how to approach the situation then one day one of the sons burst into his dorm and are like "hap something happend we need you to- OH COME ON REALLY?". Then they have to explain to the sons shes related to how long its been going on? You can choose how it ends.

A/N - I tweaked the story a little bit, I felt like I would have to write 10k words just to include everything. I hope you still like it nonetheless!

If you want added / removed from my taglist let me know 😊

The thought of having to explain again that you and your ex had broken up had your stomach churning. This was the only one of your boyfriends that Chibs had liked, and you thought it'd be the relationship that you'd have for the rest of your life. Oh how naive you were. 3 years you wasted, thinking that he loved you, that he wanted you, but it turned out that he was doing a pretty good job of faking it all.

As you pulled up to Teller Morrow you gave yourself a quick once over in the rear view mirror. You ran out of tears 4 weeks ago, but you hadn't slept much since the break up 2 months ago, and your eyes were proving that. Your boss was also your best friend, so when you told her you needed time off, she told you to take as long as you needed, and she even suggested you come to Charming for some 'healing' is what she called it. She told you that visiting Chibs - who you called 'Uncle Chibsy' ever since he rescued you and your car 6 or so years ago - would be good for you, and that night you had headed off to Charming and here you were.

Grabbing your suitcase, you locked your car and headed for the doors of the clubhouse. Before you could even reach them you were stopped by a Scottish accent you were oh so familiar with. "Y/N?" Chibs shouted from across the yard. "Is that you?" You turned around and he smiled, holding his arms out for you. You dropped the suitcase -not caring if anything in it broke- and sprinted towards him, jumping into his arms and nearly making him fall backwards.

"Surprise!" You smiled back kissing his cheek as he spun you around. "I've missed you Uncle" you admitted as he finally put you down again, lazily draping an arm around your shoulder.

"What's brought ye here?" He asked, picking your case up for you and holding the door open, as he always did. Chibs led you to a table, grabbed you a beer and plopped himself down beside you.

You had no intention of hiding the breakup from him, you just didn't want to keep talking about it. You had told most people back home over the course of the last few weeks and having to repeat it just made you tired. But you knew better than to keep anything from Chibs. "Dale and I broke up" you shrugged, picking at the label on the bottle. "It is what it is"

Chibs looked at you, raising his eyebrow and giving you the look. The look that had your walls crumbling, leaving your insecurities on show for him. He was always good at that, knowing when you were hiding something, knowing when you wanted to say something but couldn't. "He told me he didn't love me, that he never did, and never will" you sighed wiping some stray tears away. "3 years" you laughed bitterly, "I'm an idiot".

"Hey love, you're not an idiot" Chibs said, pulling you so you were now flush against his side. He placed his arm on your shoulder, using his thumb to draw circles on it - a gesture he knew calmed you down. "He's the idiot, and he will be a headless idiot when we are done with him" he said causing you to laugh out loud. The sound made Chibs smile.

Just then some of the other men came bouncing through the door. You recognized them all from when you had visited Chibs over the years. Juice came through first, followed by Tig and Jax, and then your eyes landed on Happy's. "Hey guys" you said greeting them with a small smile and wave. The men nodded at you and smiled back, but they were too busy grabbing beers and lighting cigarettes to come and speak to you, except Happy who was hovering halfway between you and Chibs and the bar. You pointed to the empty seat at the other side of the table and Happy silently padded over, accepting your invitation. You pushed your beer over to him, inviting him to take a drink, which he did so, before wiping the rim and giving it back to you with a small smile.

"How you been?" Happy asked, genuinely curious. "How's Dale?" The name fell from his lips like venom from a snake.

"She was just telling me about that asshole" Chibs piped up. "The twat broke up with her" you could have sworn you saw a slight smile grace Happy's face, but you couldn't be sure. "I was just telling Y/N about how we were going to find him and cho-"

"Chop his balls off?" Happy finished, glancing at you briefly before looking at the Scotsman.

"I was gonna say head, but balls work too brother" Chibs answered giving Happy a high five, making you laugh and shake your head at the action.

Dale was soon forgotten as Chibs, Happy and you spent the night laughing, drinking and telling each other stories, which ended up being more embarrassing for you than the other two.

"I'm going to bed now I think guys" You announced. You had no idea what time it was but a quick glance at your phone told you it was 230am. Time goes fast when you're having fun, and that saying was true for tonight. It was the most fun you had in ages. Chibs stood up to let you out and you bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek, doing the same to Happy too. He already had his cheek waiting for you, you noticed.

Grabbing your case you headed for Chibs' dorm. The room you always crashed in when you came to visit. Chibs didn't mind sleeping on one of the benches in the clubhouse, or sometimes he even crashed in Tig or Juice's room. You quickly changed the sheets, brushed your teeth and then put one of Chibs t-shirts on. You slipped under the covers and sleep welcomed you quickly, which was the first time in 2 months that had happened.

You had now been in Charming for 2 weeks, and every day was a different day. You started helping out Gemma a bit in the office and you helped to tend the bar. It was the least you could do since they were letting you stay there. You and Happy had developed a strong bond over the last few weeks. After your first night, every night after that was spent with Happy. You guys played pool, drank beer, listened to music and one night Happy even had a go on the karaoke after you begging him constantly. You found yourself intrigued by the man nicknamed The Tacoma Killer by his brothers.

You hadn't thought or spoken about Dale since the first night you got here. Your thoughts were slowly being taken over by Happy, and you were surprised by how quickly feelings had developed for him. You didn't expect to have feelings for someone so quickly after your last relationship, but you welcomed the feeling. And you knew that Happy felt something for you too. You noticed how he always went out of his way to bump into you, he always asked how you were, he made sure you had everything you needed and he also made you a cup of tea every morning and left it outside Chibs' door. In the 3 years you were with Dale, not once did he make you a cup of tea.

"Need anything love?" Chibs asked you as you dried the glasses and placed them on the rack behind the bar. You looked up and noticed he had a crow eater on his arm, and you knew his intentions.

You shook your head. "No, I'm fine thanks" you smiled. "Take your room tonight, give me 2 minutes and I'll change the sheets". Before Chibs could protest you had already left and changed the sheets, returning in a few minutes with your bag.

"Where will you sleep?" He asked.

"She'll sleep in my room" Happy said, suddenly appearing behind you, making you jump. "I'll sleep on the floor" he added before Chibs could shut the idea down.

Chibs looked at you and you nodded shyly, agreeing to the proposition. "Night love" he said leading his companion for the night to his dorm.

"Thanks Hap" you turned around and noticed how close Happy was to you. "You didn't have to do that" you smiled.

"Well I did" he said matter of factly. "You ready for bed now?" You nodded, placing the tea towel on the bar and wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans.

"Lead the way" you murmured, getting slightly nervous. You followed Happy and he showed you where everything was. He pulled out a t-shirt and handed it to you, pointing to his bathroom so you could get changed. The t-shirt covered your thighs and ended at your shins, so you decided not to wear any trousers underneath. As you excited the bathroom, Happy was just finishing up making the bed. He pointed for you, telling you to get in and you did what you were told.

He was mesmerising. A man who hardly said anything, yet the way he moved had you in awe. He took his kutte off and placed it over the end of the bed, leaving him in his vest and jeans. He took the jeans off too, not caring that you were clearly staring at him.

Happy grabbed a sleeping bag out of the wardrobe and went to make his bed on the floor but you stopped him.

"This is silly" you admitted "the bed is big enough for both of us, don't you think?" You had no idea where the sudden confidence came from, and you even caught Happy off guard with it too.

He blinked a few times, looking at you like you had suddenly grown three heads. "Yeah?" was all he could muster, and you nodded encouragingly, patting the space beside you for good measure.

Happy's movements were slow. He maintained eye contact with you, looking for a trace if regret or hesitation but you didn't give him any. Instead, you curled up under the covers and waited for his warmth. A few seconds later he joined you in bed, switching the lamp off and you were both engulfed in darkness. Neither of you said anything, scared of breaking the silence.

"Goodnight Y/N" Happy whispered eventually.

"Goodnight Hap" you replied contentedly.

You were woken by some banging on the door that didn't seem to stop, even after you put a pillow over your head.

"Happy? Happy? HAAAAAAAPY!" you recognized the voice as Chibs and he sounded like he was in a hurry or needed something urgently.

You turned around and saw Happy was dead to the world. He looked peaceful but you knew if you didn't wake him up that Chibs was about to burst the door down. You poked him once on the chest but he didn't move. You poked him on the chest again, a bit harder this time but again it was no use. You then turned your poking into nudging and soon you had managed to wake him up. "If you don't let Chibs in he is about to break your door down" you laughed pointing to the door.

Happy huffed and clambered out of the bed. He unlocked the door and yanked it open, coming face to face with Chibs.

"Finally!" He threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. "What took ye so long?"

Happy shrugged. "Y/N had to wake me up".

"Ye don't look like a man who slept on a hard floor all night" Chibs pointed out.

"That's because he didn't" you said. Chibs poked his head around the corner and raised his eyebrows. "What?" You innocently shrugged "the bed is big enough for 2 of us".

Chibs held his hands up, not saying anything else. "We can continue this discussion later" he said aiming that comment at you. "Jax needs us" he said to Happy.

Happy nodded and shut the door, grabbing some clothes from his drawers and putting them on quickly. "Sorry" he mumbled "duty calls".

"Don't worry about it. I'll be waiting for you to get back" this time Happy kissed your cheek and you welcomed the feeling of his lips against your skin.

"I'll look forward to it" he smiled, and walked out, but not before giving you one last smile.

@rebelwrites @everyhowlmarksthedead @mayans-sauce @yourwonkywriter @pancakeisreading @mrsmarvelous1995 @encounterthepast @starrynite7114 @trulysuccubus @shelliechen @frightfulnite @scuzmunkie @blessedboo @jadesamhart @fangirlingaesthetics @i-love-scott-mccall @deeandbobbymcgee @gemini0410 @thisishowdynastiesareborn @meteora-fc @withmyteeth @est1887 @justjuiceyboy @destynelseclipsa @rocketqueen @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @queenbeered @lauraashley93 @talicat713 @jasminee97 @multiyfandomgirl40 @sadeyesgf @anangelwhodidntfall

#happy lowman x reader #sons of anarchy #happy lowman fanfic #happy lowman

240 notes · View notes

kittydeany77 · 2 years

Text

My first fanfic ever. Its crazy how bad of a writer i am. But i needed to get this out into the world. And if yall hate it then i will just delete it and continue writing it on my phone notes where it can just stay in peace.

This is a crossover fic where the character Dean Winchester is in the Walking Dead universe. Its the Dean we all know and love except the hunter aspect. I mean in a sense hes a hunter in TWD too but not the supernatural kind. The reader is the narrator and i almost gave her a name but instead i will say “you” and “y/n” where needed. Theres a lot of (kind of) inner monologue. I dont edit a lot because its my first fanfic and first chapter. Depending on how this turns out, i can start getting into it more with fancy italics and stuff. Feedback (good and bad) is GREATLY appreciated. Thanks!

Alone Again

A walking dead/Supernatural crossover fanfic

Dean Winchester x Fem Reader (eventual) its going to start out mostly about the reader and how she comes across ricks group at the farm and dean is with them.

Warnings: i dont think theres any. Reference to gunshot and loneliness. Nothing described gorey or anything. Yet LOL

Chapter 1

Running.

Feet hitting the pavement, quickly running out of breath.

But you are strong. Faster than the dead. They are the walking dead and you are the running survivor.

You always read about an apocalyptic world. Whether the dead came back to bite you, a virus killed everyone in a mass (almost) extinction, or maybe the government would fail from corruption. And for some reason you wanted that type of life. Always one eye open just trying to survive day by day.

Well here you were. 23 years old and running from the dead. You got your wish… its a lonely wish. But it came true all the same. It hasn’t been going on for long. Weeks? Not really like keeping track of the days is a priority.

You didn’t travel with anyone, you were alone before it happened and when it happened. Could you trust anyone in this world? In books it’s all the same. You meet someone or a group but they take advantage of you or enslave you. Maybe even kill you… you couldn’t take that risk right?

Atlanta, GA was a beautiful state. You moved a year ago for a Lab Analyst job. You had just graduated college with your masters and Got a job first thing, even though it was on the other side of the country. Georgia and Washington aren’t exactly neighbors but it offered a better opportunity than home would have. No one to stop you or depend on you made the road trip move a lot easier.

Still… in an apocalyptic world it can get lonely. Who to talk to but the trees and the birds. Maybe the dead if they aren’t trying to eat you. Kind of like how one is now. Except it’s mostly just running right now. But what happens when i get too tired? I may out run this one, but another will come along. And probably too soon.

You found yourself running through the trees. Unsure of where you were going, just hoping to find a safe resting place.

BOOM

A gunshot? On my right.

Do i go that direction? Risk someone who can possibly help… or kill me…?

Best to steer clear. Cant take the risk. Just keep running. A little further and then break.

A pasture comes to view through the trees. Running about halfway across to finally stop and look around. There’s no more dead following close behind and it’s peaceful. Just the hot sun beating down, birds are chirping as they fly above, some bees are visiting the wildflowers. And people running.

2? No 3. And one is carrying something? A child? Can’t tell from this distance very well. Looks like you ran onto a farm, theres an old farmhouse in the distance. Must be where they are running to. You wonder what happened… maybe the gunshot is related?

You wait until they reach the house to continue across the field. You want to make it to the trees across on the other side to continue your trek. You don’t have any destination in mind, just to get away from the big city and stay off the main roads.

You’re almost to the trees when you hear what sounds like a horse running up behind you. Quickly you turn around and pull your machete from your belt to defend yourself. Seeing a pretty brunette on the horse you relax a little, she doesnt seem harmless. But your guard quickly cranks it up when she gets curt with you.

“Who are you, are you with rick?”

“Whos Rick?”

“Do you know Lori or Carl?”

“No i dont know those people”

“Why are you on my farm then? Howd you get here?”

“I was running from the dead”

“I have to find his wife Lori, go to the farmhouse, tell them Maggie sent you and wait on the porch for me to get back. We will talk”

And with a “hiyah” she was off. Just as quick as she appeared.

Theres no way you could trust her. Right? Just go to the house? Full of strangers? It could be a trap. But she seemed intent on talking to you. Why, its not like you knew each other. But that intrigued you. Something about her wanted you to follow her orders.

After taking a moment to breath and debate on this to yourself, you found yourself suddenly walking to the farmhouse. Apparently you had made the decision to follow her instructions. You took this time to admire the charm of the place. The layout was quite traditional. A bug farmhouse set near the trees on one side of a widely open pasture. A long dirt road approaching it from the other side that looped in front if the house. A small patch of trees near the house where a nice blue truck was parked. An older model, something you would appreciate to see up close. A barn in the distance and a stable on the other side of the house.

Noticing how quiet it was, you wondered how often the dead strolled through here. This farm must be off the main road quite a ways. But who knows what kind of people live here. They could be cannibals or murderers. Or keep people in their basement just for fun.

As you walked by the small patch of trees and took a quick glance at the old pick up, you start to get anxious. It was hard to tell if you were sweating from the heat or how on edge you were getting. Soon you were approaching the porch, and then the door. You stood for a moment. Just breathing. Thinking maybe you should just quickly run into the trees like today never happened. The brunette never saw you. Never approached you.

But then you knocked. You stepped back and waited. No one came to the door. Maybe she lived alone? But then where did those people go… you decide to sit on the steps and wait. She said she would be back anyway.

A few minutes pass by. When the door suddenly opens and two men come flying out. One seemed out of sorts like he was scared. He was a bit bigger, and looked like a farmer. His clothes appeared like he either worked a field or hunted recently. The other man was determined and set on a mission. He had a look in his eye when he noticed you standing there…one you didnt like.

Two more men came out just after them. An older gentleman with white hair and the other appeared to be a sheriff? Why is a sheriff still in his uniform after all this time?

They all looked at you and seemed to question why a stranger suddenly appeared, but their focus quickly turned back to whatever their purpose was.

As they all started talking, you slowly stepped back across the porch. You felt timid and on edge. Ready to flee or fight at any moment. The bigger man and the one who made you feel uneasy got into the pickup and took off. Then the other two looked at you.

You stopped. Standing still and not breathing. What to do? Jump the rail and run? Have a mental breakdown and start screaming? Calmly explain yourself?

Before you could decide, the sheriff spoke up.

“Who are you?”

…

“The brunette sent me”

“Maggie? Was she on a horse? Shes my daughter”

“She said to come here and wait for her. She wanted to talk to me after finding someone named Lori”

“Lori is my wife. My son… was shot… hes inside”

“You can wait out here on the porch for Maggie to return. Patricia please get this young lady some water”

“Thank you… thats too kind… “

The older gentleman turned to Rick “lets go check on your boy” and they went back inside. Leaving you by yourself again. Always by yourself.

#help #dean winchester fic #walking dead #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #crossover #twd fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

31 notes · View notes

moronic-validity · 3 years

Text

The Vincent Sinclair’s Boot x Reader Fic

okay so a few notes!

1) Reader is a trans guy (like your’s truly)

2) This is smut for the sake of smut, plain and simple.

3) I finished this at 2:30am and I have to be at work at 8.

This Contains: dubcon/coerced consent, drugs, bdsm, dom vincent, a boot kink, typos, almost murder, masturbation, and car problems! Everything under the cut is 18+!!!

As the temperature gauge crept higher and higher, [y/n] had to kick himself. He had been told to check his oil periodically through the road trip, but more than that, he had always been told to keep an extra thing of 5-20 in his car. Both pieces of advice went in one ear and out the other.

Which left him here, in the middle of nowhere Louisiana, 30 miles shy of Baton Rouge.

The immediate reaction was to get out of his car and scream. Sure, it was near midnight, but there wasn’t anyone nearby, so what was the worst thing that could happen. The flash of headlights on him and his car answered his question.

Great. Fantastic. Cool.

“Hey, sorry about the yelling,” he called out in the general direction of the headlights. “Any chance you have some 5-20, I’ll be right out of here if you do!”

No response. [y/n] sighed and sat on the hood of his car and watched the car. It was the middle of the night and it was still hotter than hell and humid to match. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his t shirt over his head and sat it on the hood next to him. What did it matter, he had a binder on anyway. Not like anything was showing.

The mystery driver flashed his brights at [y/n], then threw it in reverse and went back to where he came from.

Well that’s fantastic. I’m in the middle of nowhere and someone knows I’m stranded here. Perfect.

Without giving any more thought to it, he got back into his car and went to sleep, his t shirt thrown over his eyes.

The sun didn’t wake him up, the tapping on his window did.

[y/n] scrambled into an acceptable position and pulled his still damp t shirt on. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to see the man standing near his window. The man wasn’t intimidating or anything, but the situation was odd and [y/n] was immediately warry.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn mean to startle ya or nothin,” The man with the green hat said with a small laugh, “it just looked like ya might need some help, most people don like sleepin in their car this time a year.”

[y/n] squinted at the guy. It wasn’t due to the accent or the look of him, the sun just happened to be right in his eyes. The perfect start to another fantastic day.

“Uh yeah, I’ve definitely had better days. Any chance you know where to get a quart or two of oil?” He asked, ending it with a still tired yawn.

“I could give ya a lift into town, ‘m sure Bo will help you out at the station,” The green hatted man offered helpfully.

“Actually, that’d be wonderful, thank you…” [y/n] realized that he just accepted a ride from a man who’s name he didn’t even know. His mother would be so proud.

“Lester, Lester Sinclair,” Lester said with an extended hand.

“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n]” He took the other’s hand and gave a firm shake. [y/n] was acutely aware of the tacky reddish-brown smudge that was now on his hand.

The ride into town was quite, aside from the rumble of Lester’s truck and the sound of tires throwing rock.

“So where’re you headed?” Lester asked, glancing over at [y/n].

“Ah, no direction, wanted to go up, down, coast to coast. Want to see a little bit of everything, I guess,” [y/n] picked at the skin around his index finger, “I’ve only broken down once, so I figure I’m doing okay.”

“Welcome to Ambrose, I know it probably isn where ya wanted t’ go, but there are worse places.” Lester said cheerfully.

The ride went back to being quiet.

“Oh shit,” Lester whined, more to himself than anything else, as he threw the car in park and jumped out, “ya wouldn’ mind givin me a hand flipping the hubs, would ya?”

What the hell does that even mean? {y/n] thought to himself as he hopped out of the car to help Lester with the task anyway. Help was a bit of a strong word for what [y/n] did, it was more get in the way and offer moral support. Lester appreciated the gesture and the company. Most people jumped out of the car and fled into town by this point.

The two got back into the truck and drove right on into Ambrose and parked in front of the service station.

“Now, you wait here, Bo ‘ll be ‘round soon,” Lester dropped [y/n] off with a wave then drove off to wherever he worked. It occurred to [y/n] that he never thought to ask.

It also occurred to [y/n] that he’d have to walk back to his car or hope that someone in town would be willing to give him a ride. Just one more thing. He sighed and sat with his back against the wall of the station.

At least there’s shade. It’s already starting to feel like the devil’s armpit, but at least there is shade.

Time passed, could’ve been hours, could’ve been minutes.

No, it was definitely hours.

Around the point [y/n] was sure that this Bo guy would have to pry him off the cement with a spatula, Bo happened to come down the road and up to the door of the station, near where he was sitting. Bo stood within arm’s distance as [y/n] pushed himself up off the sidewalk.

“I take it you’re Bo? [Y/n] [l/n], Lester said you might have some oil?” [y/n] offered the man he assumed to be Bo his hand. Bo flashed [y/n] a smile that seemed to try to hard to be charming.

“Well, I’d introduce myself but you already know who I am,” Bo chuckled. He was in a suit and tie, didn’t seem like he was dressed for his line of work. “ Let’s see if we can’t get you back on the road, hm?” He hummed to himself as he unlocked the door to let the two men into the store.

There was no AC, and that was the first problem [y/n] had with the station. The second problem was that there appeared to be no oil. Anywhere.

What type of station doesn’t carry oil. Oil. OIL. Walmart carries oil, DG carries oil. Why does this man not have oil.

“Uh….Hey Bo, any chance you have some oil in the garage that you’re willing to part with?” [y/n] asked, while squatting and looking at another shelf devoid of oil.

“I’m sure I could check,” Bo said, his voice drifting further away. [y/n] kept looking.

“So I’ve got some bad news, I don’t have any oil down here;” ,” Bo said as he re-entered the store, wiping his hands down on a grease rag, “Good news though, I got my restock shipment in yesterday and just haven’t gotten around to bringing it down from the house. I’m more than willing to let you wait here while I go up to to get what you need, but you look like you need something to drink.”

[y/n] thought it over. This would mark the second time in less than 24 hours that he went somewhere with a random stranger, but at least this time he knew the guy’s name.

Well, the south is known for its hospitality, so I might as well go and get something to drink.

“I’d really appreciate something to drink and thank you so much for the help,” [y/n] said, suddenly aware that his mouth felt like it was full of glue.

The pair were about halfway to the house, when [y/n] finally felt the need to ask about the suit.

“Okay so, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but why are you wearing a suit? Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Bo stopped moving at [y/n]’s question and seemed to consider a few possible answers before he nodded to himself and kept walking.

“Well, it’s not the heat that gets you, it’s the humidity,” he chuckled to himself, “and uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “My mom passed on, was at her service.”

“Bo, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave town,” [y/n] couldn’t help but feel intense sympathy for Bo.

He left his mom’s funeral to help me get some oil so I can get back on the road. Holy shit.

They walked in silence for the rest of the day, [y/n] was unsure how to comfort this stranger, so he just followed the other man’s lead. Silence.

Bo unlocked the door when they got up on the step and lead [y/n] into the house.

“Washroom is down the hall if you need it, the door should be open,” Bo motioned towards the washroom, “Make yourself at home.”

With that, Bo was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of sweet tea. [y/n] decided to take Bo up on his offer of a washroom. Once the door was shut, he fought with his binder for a minute, before finally getting it off his chest, letting it hang loosely around his neck. At this point, it just felt good to take a few deep breaths. After a few minutes passed, [y/n] pulled his binder back into place, swore he’d keep it off until he hit the next rest stop, then went back out into the house and met Bo in the kitchen.

Bo handed [y/n] the glass of sweet tea, condensation already beading on the sides. Nice and cold and incredibly sweet, it even tasted southern. And a bit salty. [y/n] had never had homemade sweet tea before, so he assumed that maybe that just happened sometimes with the tea when it cooled.

The room started to sway.

“Hey, [y/n] maybe you should sit down, looks like the heat is getting to you,” Bo said, worry in his voice, but a smile on his lips, “maybe you ought to lay down for a bit.”

Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.

That was weird, he tried to say it out loud, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Bo helped [y/n] to sit on the couch and as his vision started to darken, [y/n] swore he saw another person enter the room.

When [y/n] came to, he realized a few things in short order. It was much darker, he was not on the couch, and he was restrained to the metal table he way laying on. Ever the optimist, he was thankful for the fact that he still had his clothes on and also for the fact it was much cooler wherever he was.

A tall man with long dark hair entered his line of sight. [y/n] had a few ideas of things to yell at him, but instead, took a different approach.

“So, either I’ve been asleep for a really long time, or you’re not Bo,” [y/n] said, turning his head to get a better look at the man. The man’s shoulders shook, like he was laughing without the noise.

Okay so he can’t talk. Noted.

The man turned around to face the table and made sure his hands were in clear view as he signed, “Vincent.”

The motions were smooth and [y/n] caught it near immediately.

“Vincent is a nice name,” he mused, giving Vincent a charming smile of his own, “I’m [y/n]. Now, I do have a few questions, mainly, why am I tied up?”

Vincent turned his back on [y/n] and went back to preparing the paralytic, deciding to make it a bit stronger so the man on the table wouldn’t have to be awake for the worst of it. When he turned around and [y/n] saw the needle, the reality of the situation began to sink in and things snapped into focus.

“Hey Vincent, I don’t know what’s in that needle, but I promise you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re about to do,” [y/n] tried to keep his voice level as he squirmed and fought against the restraints, “I know we don’t know each other, but I swear you don’t need to do this.”

Vincent watched him writhe on the table and considered his options.

“Please, can we talk this out, please,” [y/n] continued to beg, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and bruises already forming at both his wrists and his ankles from the jerking around. Desperation in one hell of a drug, because in no other situation could [y/n] see himself saying, “I’ll do anything to convince you.”

Vincent set the syringe back down and walked up to the head of the table and gripped [y/n]’s jaw and turned his head to make sure he saw when he signed “Are you sure?” he drew it out to emphasize the importance of the question.

Was [y/n] sure? No. No he wasn’t, but he wasn’t in a place that allowed many options. Behind door one? Death! Behind door two? A questionable fate that could very well still end in death!

Yeah, I’ll go with door number two, please.

[y/n] nodded, Vincent’s hand still not leaving his jaw.

Vincent considered the situation for a moment. He considered the number of girls that Bo had brought to him after he had had his way with them at the station. Girls had never really been Vincent’s speed. There were plenty of attractive guys who had come through, but mostly they were either already dead or just spit curses at him. [y/n] was different. No threats, no insults, he was shockingly calm, all things considered. Vincent stroked up and down the side of [y/n]’s face, bringing his hand into the smaller man’s hair and pulling, eliciting a soft whimper.

“I want you to show me,” Vincent signed before undoing the restraints at [y/n]’s ankles. As for his hands? His hands were going to stay bound, but a change of position was still needed. Vincent kept eye contact with [y/n] as he undid his wrists.

[y/n] sat up on the table, moving slowly as to not startle Vincent. The last thing he wanted was to scare the guy who probably had a half dozen ways to kill him in arms reach. His wrists ached and were bleeding in some places. He rubbed at his sore joints before Vincent snapped his fingers, pointed directly at him, then down at the floor near his boot clad feet.

[y/n] had the opportunity to make a run for it, but instead knelt at Vincent’s feet. Vincent put his hand out and without thinking, [y/n] rested the side of his face against it. Vincent’s face burned beneath his mask, that was not what he needed the man to do. He pulled his hand away and gently slapped at the kneeling man’s face, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that that was not the desired action. The kneeling man was a quick learner and when Vincent put his hand out again, he reluctantly placed his wrists in the larger man’s hands.

[y/n] was not thrilled at this situation, but he was also a simple man, and for all the terror in the situation, Vincent was a large man with shockingly soft hands that were big enough to envelop both of his wrists, who had complete control over the situation. Should he be getting wet due to the situation? Absolutely not, but in the one psychology class he took in high school, it was mentioned that fear and arousal were close together in the brain.

Vincent saw the bruising and blood on the smaller man’s wrists and was careful when he rebound them. Sure, he was planning on killing the guy, but his plans had changed. He threaded a rope and carefully suspended his wrists so that his wrists would remain above his head.

[y/n]’s first thought was that Vincent wanted head. Most guys he had met enjoyed getting head, so it did make sense. He carefully pressed his cheek against the man’s crotch and nuzzled against it, then looked up and into Vincent’s eyes for any sign. Instead, Vincent just lifted his knee and pushed [y/n] off of him like he was a disobedient dog.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as to what he wanted, if not a blow job. He was further confused when Vincent lifted his boot clad foot and pressed it into the smaller man’s pelvic bone, hard.

Oh.

The pressure of it was enough to lift him up just a little bit more and it had him wetter than he thought he could be in a situation like this. He pressed down onto the shoe and began to grind against it, shamelessly chasing the friction it created.

Vincent groaned. His cock twitched as he watched the man’s lewd display. He didn’t want [y/n] to touch him, not yet. There was still the chance that could go horribly wrong, what Vincent wanted was to see exactly how desperate the man was. Vincent began to palm himself, stroking through the fabric of his pants while he watched.

The answer was very. [y/n] was very desperate. [y/n] was desperate not to die and now, now he was also desperate to cum. He pressed himself harder against the toe of Vincent’s boot and rutted against it, groaning loudly when it pressed up against that bundle of nerves. He began to fall into a rhythm that hit every sensitive spot he could reach.

Vincent’s hand was now in his pants as he stroked himself to the same rhythm [y/n] was fucking himself to. God, Vincent thought to himself, this man was making an absolute whore of himself. It might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Could make work slightly less taxing. Then the bound man made a sound that snapped Vincent out of his thoughts and almost made him cream his pants.

He was getting so close, he had thrown himself so into chasing his high that he almost forgot that the circumstances that brought him to this were less than desirable. He pressed began to rotate his hips so that bundle of nerves caught significantly more pressure and more friction. He let out a loud, needy whine.

“Please Vincent, please tell me I can cum, I’ve been such a good boy, please God, Vincent,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he was babbling and begging for a different release now. Vincent bucked into his own hand, listening to the whines and pleas.

Tears were starting to form in [y/n]’s eyes again, he was trying so hard to be good for Vincent, trying so hard to be his good boy. Sure, less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible, but God, he was so close to cumming and he just needed Vincent to tell him he had been good. Hadn’t he been good enough to deserve release?

Vincent pressed his crotch against [y/n]’s face and continued to jack himself off. He didn’t want the man’s mouth, but he wanted the proximity. He was so close to his own release. So so close, all he needed was-

“Oh GOD, sir please, I’ve been so good for you, please sir. Tell me I’ve been a good boy for you, tell me I’m your good boy, please sir; oh my God, please, please,” [y/n] continued to babble, now crying for release against Vincent’s aching cock.

Yeah, that just about did it for him. Vincent’s orgasm took him hard and left a sizable stain that leaked into the front of his pants and against the begging man’s face. Vincent closed his eyes, lost in his own release. When things snapped back into focus, he realized the other man was still whining pitifully, still having not came.

Vincent had to admit, he was impressed at the man’s willpower, it was oddly attractive to him that the man refused to grant himself pleasure without permission. This could actually work out wonderfully, Vincent thought to himself.

He took the rope in his free hand and yanked on it hard enough to knock the [y/n] off balance. He looked up at Vincent as he tried to regain balance. Vincent let go of the rope and let him drop onto his knees, but his eyes were still locked on his masked face.

Vincent thought about it for a moment before signing “I want you to cum.”

That was all [y/n] needed to hear before going back to rutting against the shoe, quickly going over the edge and coating the toe of the boot in his fluids. He braced himself against Vincent’s leg, mumbling thank yous as he came back down. Vincent allowed this to go on for a short while, before cutting the rope and pressing [y/n]’s face down to the still wet boot.

Vincent used one hand to yank [y/n]’s hair to make the blissed out man look up at him, with the other hand, he calmly signed “Clean it up.”

#slasher fucker #vincent's boots #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent x reader #house of wax #nsft #I haven't written a fanfic in years #fanfic #theo writes #theo's thoughts #teddy talks #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #sinclair brothers

68 notes · View notes

thesightstoshowyou · 4 years

Note

Re: milestone event, maybe a continuation of your Tommy fic where one night the reader wakes up all hot thinking of him and finally seeks him out in the middle of the night to take care of it seeing as unfortunately he has yet to bust into the room to take them? Your fic for Tommy and Jason are my FAV just *mwah* fantastic I didn't realize I was into Tommy until you

I like the way you think anon ;)

Sweet Dreams

Thomas Hewitt x F Reader (NSFW)

Part 3

Read Part 2 here

Summary: You wake in the night burning with need. You seek Tommy out, earn his trust, and he repays you in kind. RIP to other guys but Thomas Hewitt is different.

Warnings: FLUFF holy shit, so much fluff, oral, praise kink, squirting, creampie

Hands, thick, strong hands caress your thighs, spreading you open as you cling to burly shoulders, sweat spilling from your brow until you taste salt on your lips—

Your eyes pop open. Moonlight spills through the curtains, the only light illuminating your dark room. It’s starting to feel less like a prison cell with every day that passes, but this thought does not bring you comfort. Very little comforts you here, in this house, in this rotting town. Only one thing, one person, prevents you from actively trying to escape….

You’d dreamt of him again. You grind your thighs together, trying to relieve the deep ache these excruciatingly vivid dreams bring. You have no idea how late it is, or how early. A sigh rushes past your lips. There’s no way anyone is up at this hour and you’re locked in your room until morning. God, you long to go to him.

The stomp of heavy footfalls coming down the hall reaches your ears. You’d recognize those steps anywhere. Thomas….

Ripping the covers off your sweaty form, you leap from the bed and cross the room in a flash. Gently, you knock on the door, not wishing to wake anyone else.

“Tommy?” You ask quietly, praying he hears you. The footsteps abruptly pause just outside your door. You hold your breath as you hear rustling. The lock clicks.

You step out of the way, letting the door swing open. Thomas fills your doorway, hair still damp from a shower, wearing nothing but a pair of slacks. And the damn mask, of course. It looks as though he’d just thrown it on so he could open your door, one of the straps half-clasped. He’s watching you closely, furrow in his brow, most likely worried something is wrong.

“Hi,” you whisper with a small smile, “I’m okay. Just wanted to see you.” Thomas glances shyly away at your words and you take the opportunity to drag your gaze over his brawny shoulders, shoulders you’d just been dreaming about digging your nails into. You flush at the memory, suddenly nervous to ask for what you want.

Instead you close the distance between you, hesitantly reaching up to run your fingers along the slit in Thomas’ mask, brushing the digits over his lips. He tenses, hands coming up to settle timidly on your hips Do you dare…?

“Tommy,” you whisper, meeting his anxious stare. This is such a sensitive topic. How do you broach the subject without upsetting him? You swallow, “Tommy, I want to kiss you…without this.” You lay your hand against his cheek, thumb stroking the leather of his mask.

As you’d guessed, his eyes widen and he immediately steps away from you, shaking his head and turning to leave. Anxiously, you bite your lip, slipping your hand into his to keep him from fleeing.

“Tommy, you have no idea how bad I want you right now. All the time, actually,” you say quickly with a breathy laugh, “How bad I want all of you.” Thomas meets your gaze over his shoulder and you can see he’s frowning again, like he can’t believe you. Your heart breaks, chest constricting painfully.

You move to him again, pushing up on your tip toes to press your lips to his shoulder before moving to his neck. Deeply, you inhale the sharp scent of his soap as you nuzzle your nose just under his ear. Your hands roam across his chest, fingers tracing all the scars littering his torso. Thomas shudders, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tight against him. He clings to you like a lifeline, just like he had that first day in the cellar.

“You’re not gonna scare me away. I need you, Tommy, so, so bad. I love the way you make me feel. You…you don’t have to show me right now, but I hope that, someday, you will.”

Thomas moves to cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his huge palms. He searches your expression, your eyes, looking for a lie, for any hint of teasing. You meet his gaze, willing him to feel your sincerity. Blue eyes drop to your lips and he frowns again. You can see him thinking, weighing the pros and cons.

He must not find what he’s looking for because you see his eyes soften. Tommy lets out a tremulous breath and you give him a small, reassuring smile. Slowly, so slowly, as though his hands weigh a thousand pounds each, he reaches up to unbuckle the strap of his mask. You grip his shoulders to quiet his trembling.

Finally, Thomas lowers the mask from his face. You are hyper-aware of your expression, knowing Tommy will miss nothing. You keep your face passive, blank as you examine the missing nose, the lesions and scar tissue along the side of his mouth, his cheek. You wonder what caused it; a deformity? A disease?

Truthfully, you’d expected much worse. You’d been imagining the potential horrors under that mask from day one. It’s anticlimactic, really.

Thomas isn’t looking at you. He’s so tense, shoulders bunched under your hands, his eyes fixed on a spot past your left shoulder. You tip your head to the side, cupping his cheek and gently forcing him to meet your gaze. You smile warmly, bringing your other hand up to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Can I kiss you now, Tommy?” you whisper. Thomas blinks, astonished. He lets out another huge breath and you realize he’d been holding it this hold time. You nod, assuring him you mean the truth, and pop up on your toes again to meet him halfway.

Shaking, Thomas wraps his arms around you again and presses his lips to yours. You sigh into his mouth, glad to have the barrier gone. You sigh becomes a squeak and a giggle when Tommy lifts you off your feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, clinging to him like he does you. The mask lays at his feet, forgotten.

“Take me to your room?” you murmur, brushing his hair out of the way to kiss the shell of his ear. You don’t have to ask twice. Tommy carries you down the hall, moving as silently as he can so as not to alert anyone else in the house.

Once safely inside his room, dark but for the moonlight bathing the room in soft light, Thomas gently sets you on the edge of his bed, hurrying across the room to close the door before promptly returning to you. You spread your thighs so he can kneel between them and you pull him flush against you, peppering his bare face with kisses, ending at his lips so you can slip your tongue in his mouth.

He’s clumsy at first, but Tommy once again proves to be a fast learner, lips and tongue matching your earnest movements. You break away to catch your breath, grinning wide. Biting your lip, you tug your shirt over your head, slowly, so you can make a show of it.

Reverently, Thomas smooths the palms of his hands up your abdomen, cupping your breasts and timidly leaning in to capture a nipple with his lips. He gives the hardening flesh an experimental suck and you release a hushed moan, fingers tangling in his hair to encourage him.

He moves to the other side, repeating the action until you buck your hips into him, a whispered, “Oh fuck,” spilling from your parted lips. Eagerly, Thomas eases your shorts off your hips, tossing them away and scooping up handfuls of your ass to pull you to the very edge of the bed. He wastes no time before burying his face between your parted thighs.

You must clap your hand over your mouth to stifle the surprised moan when Tommy drags his tongue through your folds. He remembers what you like from your teaching session that first day in the cellar. Shockingly fast, he finds your clit and teases it with his tongue. He sucks, licks with the tip and then the flat of his tongue, experiments with different techniques until he finds the ones that makes you squeal behind your hand.

You cum like that, hand in his hair, Thomas’ fingers digging into your hips while you buck into his mouth. You shudder, legs quivering, toes tingling, cunt dripping onto the floor. Dazedly, you wonder how long he’d been waiting to do that, as enthusiastic as he was.

“Oh my god, Tommy,” you gasp, sitting up and pulling him into another heated kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, swallow his needy whine. Hastily, you urge him to stand, popping the button on his pants and shoving them off his hips.

You scoot back on the bed, pulling him by the hand at the same time until he’s hovering over you. You’re worried you’re going to burn up, your skin ablaze everywhere he touches you. He lifts your hips off the mattress and begins the measured process of pushing his maddeningly thick cock past your soaked folds.

Your hand returns to your mouth and you wrap your legs around his waist, arching your back when Thomas stuffs you completely full of him. You twitch, free hand fisting in the sheets when he rolls his hips, the incredible stretch now more addictive than painful. You meet his gaze as much as you can in the dark, nodding your head to urge him on.

“Yes, Tommy, please, so g-good, oh god, just like that,” you whisper, quickly biting down on your lip to stifle a cry when Thomas’ grip tightens and he bucks his hips forward. The hand in the sheets flies to the headboard to keep you from sliding up the mattress as Tommy starts pummeling your insides, using his grip on your waist to pull you into each thrust.

It’s so hard not to scream, not to wake everyone else in the house when every nerve in your body is alight with sensation, pleasure coiling so intensely in your gut you wonder if you’ll burst. Tommy groans at the feeling of your slippery muscles fluttering around him and that is enough to send you plummeting into ecstasy.

You come undone, unravelling at the seams, back arching, cunt gushing around the cock that fills it so completely. You bite the palm of your hand to quiet the euphoric shriek that erupts from your throat. Thomas emits a strangled moan as his hips stutter before slamming forward, hilting himself as he fills you to the brim.

Tommy lowers you back to the mattress before tipping forward, hands braced on either side of your head. You crane your neck, bringing your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down so he rests between your trembling thighs. You chuckle quietly when he sets his forehead against yours, his panting breaths washing over your sweat slicked face.

“You’re getting too good at that,” you murmur, giggling when he huffs out a laugh. Thomas rolls to the side, pulling you to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. Gradually, his breathing slows, the deep, rhythmic inhales and exhales lulling you, making your eyelids droop.

It’s easy to fall asleep in Tommy’s arms. You’ve never felt more secure. You let your eyes fall shut and, before long, you join him in sleep.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #leatherface x reader #tcm #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #n sfw #my writing #reader insert #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #thank you for the ask

466 notes · View notes

fanficmemes · 3 years

Text

Hey guys!!! Thanks to our lovely anon/blog historian, Soupy, we now have a recorded history!! Blog lore, my beloved. I'll try and start adding in our new things too, but to any newbies out there, come take a look :):):):)

About the lore for this blog, i cannot remember everything, but i can do something about the cursed asks lore and history, since i just scrolled all the posts in the tags!

31 Jan 2021: an anonymous send an ask asking what people actually mean when they tell a ship if "pedophilic". This start a big number of asks about real survivor and how fucked up is fandom water down the word, purity culture, and consequently story time about harassing people in fandom for purity culture.

1 Feb 2021: someone speak about how much fucked up fics helped them. This probably opened the possibility of cursed asks. The same day, someone other send an ask about a terrible person known for harassing people about the sexuality of a character. The person is called "train fucker".

2 Feb 2021: anonymous point the attention on the train fucking thing. The cursed ask tag is created.

In the following hours, always in the cursed ask tag, people discover the fandom was Death Note and the guy was apparently in real attracted to trains and planes. Hell break down, memes are created.

History is made.

One of the characters will later become protagonists of the tag already existed. PKD already was knew since the 22 Jan 2021, when they sent an ask about the color asks and you had the intuition the tags he was probably someone with a piss kink and the tag "chronicles of piss" was created.

Cursed ask history part 2:

At this moment on time,the tags is still not clearly used. One of the First post tagged as such, the 9th Feb, is an anon answering to the ear fucking conversation about micropenis, while all the other posts are not tagged. The day after PKD enter the cursed asks tag, while the others ask still stay out of it. People start sending the stories they read.

12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.

Also mlp pony guy is a lore being who did not appear before in the #cursed asks, but already had their history in the simpler ask tag and in the previous cancel scale period, that we could call the ancestor of #cursed ask.

The First post tagged as cancel scale is from the 2nd Jan 2021. It was an anon answering your post of the same day "alright guys scale 1-10 how screwed r u if it ao3 history and bookmarks get released".

This is the gold era of this blog lore. The philanthropist, wound fucking discourse, rpf bdsm and mlp guy (with the first ask behind paywall) appeared during the first month and a half of the year, mixing at the end with the cursed ask tag.

Cursed ask history part 2:

12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.

Cursed ask history part 3:

The philanthropist appeared the same day #the cancel scale started. With their iconic "i am a shameless philanthropist and so my bookmarks are public. I eat dead doves for breakfast. Come on down to the buffet y'all! You want some wound fucking? 8-yr-old omega abortion? I got you fam, watch me scramble these eggs" they left a forever sign in this blog. Still to this days asks are written to know if they are good. They obtained a 12/10 in the cancel scale.

Wound fucking discourse started, also the same day, by CB answering "is that where the wound fucking comes in??" At a ask about vivisection and medical experimentation. Discourse about what classify as a wound and how it works continued trought the day.

Rpf bdsm is thought to have beat the philanthropist with their mix of rape, underage, incest in a foursome, huge age, rpf tentacles and, mostly, someone getting turned into a pickle and his partner fucking himself with it.

This also started a string of asks about people being transformed in object used for sex.

Rpf bdsm would appear again later that day to specify the pickle fic was a rpf.

Cursed ask history part 4 (i think? Already lost the count)

Mlp guy. The one and only. Always in the terrible 2 Jan 2021, they first appeared in the tags of an answer to a marvel ask. #Hey HEY mlp guy #u know who u r #i'm afraid to look at this ask #like yeah we saw some shit tonight but this blows that outta the fuckin WATER #y'all would dead ass have to pay me to post it

Someone noticed the tags and asked about it, and a strong sexual tension between everyone and the unpublished mlp ask started. Someone ended up paying, cause the ask was later published as last post of the day and terrorized every follower of the blog. It was published as screenshot of the ask, and is not even put in the #cancel scale.

MLP guy stayed so in the apex of the cursed asks for some months, till the Pokémon ask by soupy was published the 9th may 2021, taking home a 15/10. MLP guy made a Tumblr profile, @therealmlpguy, in retiliation, and reblogged answering with a new terribly cursed fic. CB have still not voted it, so who have the worst cursed ask is still in question.

The day of #cancel scale the blog fanficmemes lost many followers, but the story was, as we know, not finished.

Cursed ask history part 5

I like to stay an half cryptid of this blog, so i will not tell my blog of origin, but i can tell you I am Soupy. Also i need to know if i am actually considered a cryptic of the blog and if i need to make a lore post about myself XD.

This is starting to get hard cause i cannot reread what i already sent, but the end of the tunnel is near.

We already told about owl fucking anon in the cursed ask tag, but their story is a bit more longer. The cursed ask was actually their big return, and they are probably one of the most proficious lore making, having also a part in the creation of the PKD legend. They should really have their own tag.

How? Well.

The 17 Jan 2021, when the big part of the cancel scale was done and the elders of the lore created, they sent an anon ask about what the cancel scale made them remember. It was a fic, red when they were ten or eleven, about someone fucking an owl while the owl was on their period. Consensual, and apparently the authors were two teen girl who write only character x owl. Their mom proofread. CB answered with their profile picture, edited so that it red "i can't believe it's gotten even worse!" Instead of "i can't believe it's not canon".

This post created, if we want to say, PKD, cause their first ask, that assigned them piss kink, was yes about the color asks (that, in case someone does not remember, was CB asking what colors people assigned to them), but had as explanation "if you keep posting stuff like the owl period whatever". So the owl fucking anon indirectly created, the 22 Jan 2021, PKD.

Owl fucking anon continued their ascension to lore of the blog.

The 12th Feb 2021 sent an ask were they were surprised someone had found Hagrid x Hedwing fics, and than sent anther 9 parts ask about the story of how they red lot of cursed shits thanks to an old tumblr blog that had the links, and how from there they found an author who only published Hagrid x Hedwing, and how that introduced them to FF smut.

(it is also discovered they are only 15, baby, please, i am noone to talk with the shits i red at the time but i hope you are ok).

They are now consacrated in the memory of the blog.

Cursed ask history part 6

Before continuing with the history of the cursed asks, is now time to finally give a small talk about PKD. We know how they originated, but how they become so famous?

Probably is the fact they appeared so many time during the last months. Being it for cancel scale, cursed asks or just normal asks, they continue to give us company with their exploration of piss kink fic. Is true they soundly negate having the kink the first months, but after lot of memes and people speaking about it, the 25 Apr 2021 they finally admitted of having the kink,and discovered it reading an a/b/o Captain America fic.

I would suggest to read all the posts, but they stopped being tagged halfway through, so is half in the specific #chronicles of piss and half in the #cursed ask

Cursed ask history part 7

The big lore is finished, and now only the later history stay.

#cancel scale posts and #cursed asks post lived side by side for some days. The owl fucking one of the 12 Feb was actually the last cursed fic published in the cancel scale post, leaving the tag only for some history reference later.

#cursed asks saw the appearence of every type of cursed possible to thought, with scat and nipple fucking between the different tags. At the start there was no specific day chosen, but later, for CB schedule reasons, Saturday was assigned as cursed ask day, and some week later it was moved to Sunday.

And here we are, today, to see what other cursed things we will bring in this world

Cursed fic History part 8

The cursed fic History have been covered, but i still think is important to talk about some of the before time tags that created the good ecosystem for the creation of #cursed ask.

The most famous is #the lube discussion.

It started the 23 Aug 2020, when CB wrote a post about FF using the word "supple" in smut without the thing being actually supple. In the tag, they added #also #that does Not work as lube.

Some anon asked what was being used as lube, that was answered with "one was peanut butter. I will not discuss the other". This started the bug lube discussion, were everyone talked about what they continingly see used as lube when it cannot be used as lube.

Between the classics soap and blood, we see some more daring one as mud, yogurt, aloe vera, years, milk, hot sauce and the more intersting, cannoli (have no idea if they are talking about the cream you put in cannoli or some american thing i don't know).

Nothing reached cursed material, but it put the first seed for the blog.

#blog lore #my dearest soup #my response to your first letter will be posted swiftly #I got distracted bc I forgot that we don’t know each other irl #and I was gonna press some flowers for u #(they’re still being pressed but I’ll send a pic I forgot that I can’t send real flowers over text #but again thank you so much for doing this #also I really wish I would’ve tagged shit better #maybe I wanted to go back and reread chronicles of piss #but nooooooo I just had to forget about it halfway through #anyways here we go #cursed asks #the lube discussions #chronicles of piss

54 notes · View notes

eveningstar1516 · 3 years

Text

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 6

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

Letting go, both demons left for the palace as I went to my room. Shedding my clothes, I bypassed pyjamas and laid in bed. Tears ran down my face as I thought about Y/N and all the precious memories we had made together. I rolled over and realized they left their Little D No.1 plushie here from their last sleepover. Clutching it, their scent strong on the plushie, I drifted off to sleep, hugging the Little D in my arms wishing it was Y/N instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 6 - Celestial Realm (1207 words)

I awoke to the sun shining brightly through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking a garden. The bed felt softer than a cloud. Basking in the softness of the bed, it took a hot second before I realized that this is not my bed and there is a SUN! Bolting upright I looked around a bedroom that was not my own. The entire wall on my right was covered in floor to ceiling windows. At the foot of the bed was a small bookshelf with some plants on top. Just beyond that seemed to be a walk in closet. A small bathroom was located next to the closet. Other than a small study desk near the bed, the room was simple and plainly decorated. The walls were painted off-white with light neutral pastel green trims and accents. A knock at the door had me jumping out of my skin.

“Y/N, are you awake?” Finally, something I recognize!

“Yes, come in Simeon.”

“Good morning Y/N. Did I wake you?” “No, I woke up a short while ago. Where am I, Simeon?” Simeon walked over and sat in a chair by the desk. A soft smile on his face as he answered.

“You’re in the Celestial realm-”

“Yes, I know that, I mean where in the realm am I? And who’s room is this?”

“This is a guest room in the House of Honors where Luke and I live. We found you passed out in the garden with your wings covering you.”

“We?”

“Michael and I. He and the rest of the Archangels live upstairs on the top floor.” Simeon opened his mouth to continue when we heard 3 strong knocks on the door. Michael then came in. He had a fair complexion. Reddish orange hair was braided down his right shoulder. He sported a get up similar to Simeons but he had a full gray half sleeve with a cape instead of Simeon's sleeveless leotard and over the shoulder cape. His shirt bore golden accents and his cape was golden on the inside without any tassels.

“Good morning Simeon, Y/N.”

“Good morning Michael. How did it go?”

“Father isn't exactly pleased to have Y/N up here, sporting a fashion similar to Samael’s no less. He requested an audience with them as soon as they woke and had eaten.”

“Very well, I’ll escort them there after they eat.”

“Father had specifically asked me to escort them to the palace. Simeon, you should attend to your other duties.”

“Of course.” Simeon turned to me, giving me a hug.

“It was nice seeing you again Y/N.”

“Likewise, say hi to Luke for me”

“I will.” With that Simeon let go and walked out of the room.

Michael now looked at me, looking less than pleased to be dealing with me.

“Follow me.” He then walked out and I scrambled out of bed catching up with his long strides. We soon entered what looked like a dining area. There seemed to be some leftovers from breakfast.

“Have a seat and help yourself. Once you finish, we will go see Father, he will decide what to do with you.” Michael didn’t bother waiting for my reply before heading off in the direction of what looked to be a kitchen. Following his direction, I grabbed a plate and put some familiar looking foods that I remembered Luke teaching me about. As I was eating, I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable face off I would have with God. It was not going to be pretty.

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

When they first lost Y/N, Satan kept to himself. He locked himself up in his room and submerged himself in his books. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he found himself in his circle taking it out on the humans down there serving their punishment. His wrath consuming him. One day Lucifer found him curled in on himself trying to reel in his wrath after unleashing it on some of the 4th circles' inhabitants. Satan didn’t sense anything approaching until he felt a firm but comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking up he found Lucifer looking down on him with a sad smile and a look of something between pity and sympathy in his eyes. Lucifer looked down at his brother, no, his son. He took one look at the state he found Satan in and did something he didn’t think he’d ever do again, he hugged him. Satan felt his older brother's, no, his father's arms wrap around him. At first, all he felt was shock. He and Lucifer haven’t hugged since he was a child, now though Satan found himself leaning into his father's touch. Ignoring everything around them, Satan let out all his grief and sadness, holding onto his father like if he didn’t he’d disappear as well.

Present

Classes were going slow for Satan. While he would normally be engrossed in the lectures, diligently taking notes, he keeps finding himself drifting between thoughts, not staying on one topic for long and always finding a way back to thinking about Y/N. About halfway through his curses and hexes lecture, he gave up on paying attention and let his mind wander and his hands write whatever they wanted. At the end of the lecture, Satan looked at his notebook taking in what he had written. Mind you, he didn’t pay attention and just let his hand wander. What he found on the page both amazed and saddened him. Today’s lectures had been about the art of seduction with the use of curses instead of a demon's natural charm or beauty. He ended up writing out diligent notes from his lecture, but instead of them being in his usual note taking style, he found them in the form of a story Y/N had once had an idea about writing. He wrote about his time tutoring Y/N for their exams and how they successfully seduced him but instead of acting like a kitten, they took a spell Satan taught them and altered it so that not only would they have seduced Satan, but he still regained his free will, with Y/N pulling the strings, unknowing to him. He read the short story his mind had came up with, his mind revisiting memories of different lessons with Y/N, their progress, their ups, their downs, the one time they cursed Mammon into a frog, the look on their face when they successfully executed a complex spell without Satan’s magical assistance. He found himself longing for those days, an unfamiliar yet comforting emotion filling his heart. As he walked through the halls towards his next class, he made a vow to himself to try and feel that unfamiliar emotion until he could name it, then keep feeling it, because, for Satan, it felt like Y/N was right next to them, with their signature smile on their face, proud of him for focusing on a feeling opposite of his wrath. Should he start to feel his wrath taking over, he would picture Y/N, holding his hand, encouraging him to feel that unfamiliar emotion. One he soon learned was called ‘Philia Love’.

39 notes · View notes

theleftovertaco · 3 years

Text

April Fools

I’ve always wondered if April Fools existed in the wizarding world. I’ve come to the conclusion for this fic that it doesnt so the reader can introduce the Weasley twins to it. Chaos ensues. This takes place in harrys 3rd year and the twins 5th year. Technically you would be in 5th year as well, but your gender nor house are specified.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

You were writing your potions essay in the quidditch stands when an identical set of loud voices brought you out of your trance.

“Hey, short stack.” Fred and George flew up to your section.

“Oh look, it’s the demonic duo.”

George smirked, “Because we’re so devilishly handsome?”

“No, because your both so ugly that even Jesus couldnt save your face so satan had to take you.” You heard two squawks of indignation but continued on.

“Also, I’m not that short. Y/H is average.”

“Ah,” Fred sat down to your right, “but your shorter than us, so your short.”

“Everyone’s shorter than you two beanstalks.”

“You’re still short.” You stuck your tongue out at George and he mirrored you.

“What do you two want?”

“I’m hurt... always assuming we want something..” Fred trailed off.

“Yeah, we can’t have a conversation with our best friend?”

“I feel betrayed.”

“Depressed.”

“Cheated!”

“Is our friendship a lie?”

“Enough!” You giggled out.

“You don’t have to need something, but you stopped in the middle of practice for a reason.”

“Well... Gryffindor team likes to listen to music when we practice right?” Fred leaned in and put his chin on your shoulder.

“Ok and?”

“Well, all we have is Celestina Warbeck music and your muggle music just is much better than ‘a cauldron full of strong, hot love’”, George sung that last bit.

“So we wanna know if we can borrow your CDs and player?”

“Flawless impression. Yes you can use them, I’ll bring them out next practice. Though honestly, I really ought to get you one of your own so you don’t have to keep asking every time u want to listen to music.”

George hummed in agreement next to you.

“Maybe that’ll be your birthday gift. When is it anyways... I’ve known you two for almost a year and you never told me.”

“It’s in about a month. April 1st.” George confirmed.

You let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that checks out.”

You got a rare pause of silence.

“What do you mean ‘that checks out’?” Fred looked honestly confused, and so did George.

“Are you both messing with me? You have to know what holiday is on April 1st right?” They shook their heads no.

“Really? Hold on a second let me ask Hermione if she knows anything. ‘Mione!” You got her attention from a few stands over and she jogged over to the three of you.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, can you answer a question?” She nodded and you continued, “ without saying it out loud, you know what holiday is on April 1st, right?” She nodded again.

“Yea, why is that relevant?”

“Because they don’t!” You motioned frantically to the twins behind you and Hermione shook her head.

“Do not tell them they don’t need another reason to go around causing more chaos.”

“Oooh,” Fred lifted up his head in interest, “this sounds interesting. What holiday is on April 1st that we don’t know about?”

Hermione shook her head as Harry flew over and dismounted. “What’s going on, practice is over, why aren’t you lot leaving?”

You turned to him quickly, “Harry, without saying it, you know what holiday is on, April 1st, right?” He nodded before realizing what was going on and started laughing.

“Don’t encourage them Harry!” Hermione pushed him slightly.

“Why not? It would be funny to see what they do with that.”

Fred and George were getting frustrated, “With what?”

“Don’t tell them, Y/N!”

“Tell them, Y/N!” “Tell us, Y/N!”

“Ok ok I’ll tell you!” You conceded and Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation and left to collect her bag.

“On two conditions!”

Fred and George whispered to each other for a second before turnin to you and nodding.

“Of course.” Said George with a sly grin.

“What are these conditions?” Fred finished for him.

“Number 1. When I tell you the holiday, I get full immunity from the days effects.”

“But of course.” They spoke in unison

“Number 2. Anyone asks, I had nothing to do with this.”

Fred shrugged, “That’s fair. So, what holiday is on April 1st?”

You grinned before replying, “April Fool’s!”

“What is April Fool’s?” George’s eyes went wide.

“A holiday dedicated to playing pranks on people. Muggles prank their friends, family, teachers, principal. In my primary school one of my friends put a bunch of live chickens in a teachers car.”

They looked at you with pure glee.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” Fred and George each planted a kiss on you cheek and ran off.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Fred and George dropped into the library chairs in front of you two weeks later.

“So we were thinking.” Fred grinned from the chair closest to you.

“And since you were the one to tell us about this glorious holiday, you should be part of the celebration.”

“No.”

“Why nooooot?” George whined, setting his chin on the table and looking at you with his best puppy eyes.

“I’m not going to get in trouble for a holiday and besides, its your holiday. You don’t need me interfering.”

“But we want you there so you should do it, right? And you wouldn’t be interfering. Please?” Fred joined his brother in puppy eyeing you.

You sighed and nodded in agreement.

“Yay! So we were thinking that maybe we could pull something minor on each of the teachers and then something major on the whole school. What do you think?”

“It could work, but you would have to tailor it to each teacher. Snape can’t stand background noise and high pitches, McGonagall hates being even remotely interrupted, Flitwick can’t stand his bookstack being messed with, and Lupin, for whatever reason, doesn’t like fish.”

“Fish?” George tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Yeah, he thinks they’re gross or something.”

They both nodded before Fred spoke up, “Ok, so what are you suggesting?”

You thought for a moment before responding, “For snape, I have this little old transportable music player. We could charm it to follow him around and play a bunch of kazoo noises in the background. The more he tries to get rid of it the higher pitch and louder it gets.”

“Ooh, I like that. What else?” George nodded for you to continue.

“We could find a spell where every time McGonagall tries to speak, she gets interrupted by, I don’t know, a horn or something? Flitwick I don’t really have anything.”

“I like the way you think.” Fred grinned and added in, “ . We could turn Lupin’s class into a tiny lake and fill it with fish while he’s up in his office?”

George nodded, “And we could make Flitwick's stack fly around the room while he’s on it?”

“You’re both evil. It’s fantastic.” You high fived them and the three of you left to enact your plans.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

The next two weeks were a never-ending whirlwind of prank planning and late night kitchen runs, but finally the three of you were done. The plans were set up and now all there was to do was wait.

First class of the day was McGonagall’s and the three of you walked in trying to wipe the grins off your face.

“Good morning class, please turn to-” *HONK* Your professor whipped her head around to see where the sound was coming from to no avail. She shook her head and continued on.

“As I was-” *HONK HONK* “Where is that noise coming from?”

The class stifled laughter as she ran around looking for the origin of the honking.

For twenty minutes.

“I swear to” *HONK*

“Oh for the love of” *HOOOOONK*

Eventually McGonagall grew tired and dismissed the class half an hour early.

Snape was next on the hit list.

Your professor strode into the classroom, looking obviously annoyed. A tiny radio followed after him playing a nonsense tune with kazoos. The class burst into laughter but was promptly shut up by a particularly harsh glare.

The next hour was trademarked by Snape repeatedly trying to destroy the radio physically or through magic while he had the class make a healing potion. The noise just got louder and louder and when the bell rang for the last class before lunch Snape barked at everyone to “GET OUT NOW”.

At lunch, you, Fred, and George each grabbed a sandwich and an apple and were about to rush out to have time to set up Lupin’s prank when Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped you.

“The radio in Snape’s class, who’s bloody idea was that?” Fred and George pointed to you and Ron responded with a high five.

As you three left you could hear Hermione reprimanding Ron for encouraging you.

Lupin’s class took time to set up, but he always took lunch in his office and rarely opened the door.

The three of you placed a tiny device in the center of the floor, rushed out of the classroom, and waited.

You heard a loud BANG and then a stream of curses before running off to hide.

By the time you three returned for class, a student had opened the door to find Lupin taking refuge at the staircase and yelling that class was cancelled for the day and to read Chapter 17!

This brings us to Flitwick’s class.

The plan for his had already been enacted. Since when the three of you stepped into his class, he was clutching onto Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and yelling out instructions while also asking that someone help him down.

You three took pity halfway through class and found a ladder for him to use.

The four pranks had gone off without a hitch, now you just needed to pull of dinner and everything would be perfect.

Fred and George snuck into the kitchens and as food was being prepared to go out, they placed a few drops of a specialized potion on about half of the platters.

So they reconvened with you at dinner.

You each sat there, and then you waited as people dug into their food.

After about thirty seconds the chaos you had been waiting for occurred. Half the Great Hall turned into various zoo creatures, all frantically running around the tables and crashing into people. The human half of the hall was torn between laughing and running.

They ultimately settled on running.

As everyone cleared out of the hall, the students were ushered back to their respective dorms, and the three of you escaped to the kitchens.

As soon as the portrait entrance was closed, the three of you looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

“AHAHAHAHA- OH that was BRILLIANT!” You half screamed.

“Did you see the look on Sprouts face when Snape turned into a peacock? A PEACOCK!” Fred screeched, nearly on the floor.

“I don’t know if we could ever outdo that!” George replied, who was on the floor.

Eventually the three of you calmed down and you caught your breath to reply.

“Knowing you two, you could. Before we leave, come on. I got you something.”

You brought them over to a table in the middle of the kitchens where two cupcakes and a CD player was set up, along with around 10 CDs next to it.

“I completely forgot about that!” Fred exclaimed.

“Thank you so much!” George and Fred leaned down a little to hug you at the same time.

“Uh, guys, getting a little crushed here.”

“Right, sorry.” George detangled himself from the hug.

“I’m not, gonna keep crushing you.” Fred squeezed tighter.

You laughed and hugged him back.

“Happy Birthday.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #george weasley imagine #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley

167 notes · View notes

deepperplexity · 3 years

Text

That’s Your Patronus?! [Pt.2]

Title: That’s your Patronus?! [Pt.2] [PART 1 HERE]

Pairing: Lucius x Female!Reader

Setting: Hogwarts, Seventh Year

A/N: Since some wanted a part two of this fic I figured I should get going with it xD So, here is part two and let me tell you, THIS WAS HARD TO WRITE… I hadn’t planned for a second part of this fic as I was leaving it open for you to decide (and I lowkey just wanted to write about the patronus O.O). But, but but but, since you guys wanted more I had to do my best to give you a continuation ofc ;) <3

+A/N: This one is especially for @lainphotography , @marvelschriss and @elizabeth-baelish for wanting a part 2 of this fic. I hope you will like this dearies! ^^ <3

ABBR.: | Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - Your Last Name |

Word Count: 4537

Warnings: Angst, Feels, Hurt/Comfort(kinda), Physical Injury, Bullying, Kissing

Ending Recap: When the kiss was broken and you both panted while you looked at each other he reached up and wiped away your tears. “I don’t understand,” you murmured as you worried your lip. He tilted your head with a finger under your chin. “You do not need to understand.” “But-” “Always smiling and yet when I kiss you, you cry,” he said to cut you off and you felt a smile tug at your lips. You couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry,” you apologized and he raised his brows in a harsh way. You wanted to look away but couldn’t. “Do not apologies, I feel rather special,” he admitted and you could have sworn that his cheeks were taking on a tinge of red for a moment. It made your heart flutter again and somehow you found your courage and pulled him in for another kiss with absolutely no clue as to what was happening or how it would be after you left the secret room. But if this was your moment with him, you would make the most of it...

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

He had ignored you for several weeks. Even at times when he should have usually thrown some slur or derogatory words at you he had simply ignored you. As if you did not exist, weren’t even worthy of bullying any longer. You kept on smiling, kept on studying, kept on going to class and reading in the library to keep away from as many of your bullies as possible. Had it really meant absolutely nothing to Lucius that you had kissed? Then why had he even bothered to do so at all? You didn’t know, but what you did know was that his indifference hurt worse than the angry attention he had shot your way before.

You sighed and kept scribbling notes as you poured over book after book about charms. You did your best to ignore the ache in your chest and the rumbling of your tummy. You had missed lunch as you were hiding from the group of Gryffindors who had beaten you all those weeks ago and it was still an hour left until dinner would begin. You bit your bottom lip in concentration and kept on scribbling until you could no longer sit still. I need some air, you thought as it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. So you cleaned up the mess you had made and headed out.

You didn’t make it far though. As you rounded a corner you stiffened. The Gryffindor boys were loitering about while joking about some poor girl they had apparently covered in slime a moment ago. You shivered and were just about to turn around when the leader of the gang spotted you. Toby Prodington was a horrible boy with sandy brown hair and a nose that had at some point been broken. He glared at you and then a wicked smile crossed his lips. You shivered again and started to walk away at a brisk pace to take another route to get out of the castle. But the gang caught up to you in no time, all four of them against little you.

Your heart hammered as your body remembered the pain you had endured last time. “Where you going?” Prodington asked on a menacing chuckle as he grabbed your arm and spun you around, “can’t just walk away from us like that you little snake,” he snarled and you tugged to get lose from his harsh grip. “Let me be,” you said in a low voice as fear crawled through you. You didn’t want to make them angry but at the same time, it didn’t matter what you did. You were a prime target. No Slytherin friends to back you up, no Gryffindors to be brave and step in, no Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws to fetch a teacher or even walk with you through the echoing hallways. You were alone, always alone.

The boys laughed as Prodington tugged you closer. “Nobody’s gonna save you, little snake,” he whispered in your ear as his grip around your arm tightened to the point it would leave bruises. “Please,” you pleaded, “leave me alone,” you continued but you had no time to do anything else as the boy’s knee came up and jabbed itself into your stomach with force. The air left your lungs from the impact and your knees buckled. Prodington’s hand was the one thing that kept you halfway up as you gasped for air and felt tears that stung your eyes. You couldn’t understand why you were being bullied in such a horrible way. You had never done anything to garner their hate, apart from being a Slytherin they had no reason. No reason at all to hurt and harm you.

You coughed and tried to hold back the tears that stung and threatened to leak. “Fucking snake,” Prodington growled with hate as he let go of your arm in such a harsh manner it forced you to the ground. Your knees and hands took the brunt of the fall but that pain was nothing to what came after. Your ribs were slammed harshly with the sole of a shoe as Prodington stepped down harshly on you. “Fucking Slytherin bitch, even hated by your own peers. Disgusting,” he growled with more hate in his voice before he kicked you even harder in the stomach. You cried out as the tears gushed and you curled up in a little ball.

“PRODINGTON!” The roar that echoed through the corridor came from Lucius and in the next moment, a flashing light came and was followed by the sound of a thudding body. “Malfoy! Fucking hell-” you heard one of the other boys shout in anger. “Want a taste?” Lucius asked with a steely voice that dripped with venom. “Let’s go,” another of the boys said hesitantly and you heard them walk away as the steps of Lucius came towards you. You curled up more as your stomach and ribs ached something terribly.

His hand landed on your shoulder and you jolted a little bit at the touch. “Go away,” you whimpered as his avoidance from the past weeks filled your mind. The hurt and the pain came more swiftly than the warmth you felt as you remembered his hand around yours, his lips against yours. “(Y/n),” he said, “Are you alright?” There was worry in his voice and it confused you to no end. He didn’t care about you, that had been made painfully clear, so why the worry in his beautifully strong voice? “Come, we need to get you to the hospital wing,” he continued and you found yourself in his arms a moment later.

You hissed as he carried you up the stairs towards the hospital wing. The bouncing steps made your ribs ache something fiercely. His arms tensed around you and his steps smoothed out a bit. It eased the pain but did nothing against the burning you felt where he held you. Did nothing against your pounding heart or the tears that now leaked because if his closeness that you knew you could not keep. He would drop you off in the care of the madam and then you would be mere dust on the wind for him yet again.

He gently placed you on one of the beds, without saying a word, as the madam asked questions about your state and what had happened. As soon as his arms had left you he straightened, you looked at him through your tear-filled eyes and the blond hair shined in the light of the torches and candles about the room. As beautiful as ever, you thought as you watched him through your blurred vision. Right as you were going to thank him for helping you to the hospital wing he simply turned and left. Without another word. That ripped you open all over again.

“Miss (y/l/n), tell me, what has happened this time?” Your eyes turned to the madam. She had that strange look across her face, the look that told you she expected yet another lie about your injuries. You had not received the help needed before, it had only made the bullying worse as you had been labelled a snitch when they started to torment you years ago.

“I fell off a broom, landed on the stands,” you mumbled and the madam seemed resigned to not dig any further as you never changed your stories. Once you add said something you stuck to it. “Very well, I will examine you and see what the damage is. Clothes off.” You nodded but felt oddly numb. Your eyes kept wandering towards the door, the door Lucius had left through. Usually, you hated the undressing and the examining but you felt disconnected from it as there was pain much worse inside your chest. That of a broken heart.

“Well, we will have to keep you overnight. Your rib is fractured, some internal bruising as well. You really should not be walking around in this state. Good of Mr Malfoy to help you get here.” You nodded at the madam’s words. You couldn’t really say anything to the woman and you definitely didn’t want to say anything. “I will get a houself to bring you dinner, now stay put.” You nodded again and tried to ignore the aching in your body that was slowly softening with the help of a potion. It warmed and eased the pain ever so slowly. After a moment, you drifted off to sleep. A dreamless kind that was not good or bad.

It was dark when you woke up, disoriented at first. But then you remembered the events that had landed you in the hospital wing, again. You sighed and was just about to turn to try and grab a few more hours of rest when a noise grabbed your attention. Or, more correctly, a voice. “It’s Prodington, and a few other boys from Gryffindor.” “Well, let’s go then.” you knew both voices. The first had been that of Professor Slughorn and the second had been the madam who was in charge of the hospital wing. Prodington? What’s he up to now?

A few minutes passed and then the doors opened again, you had been to awake to go back to sleep and how lucky was that. Several feet were heard as the madam directed what appeared to be several people to varying beds. The unmistakable sound of unconscious bodies landing in beds was heard and then the madam thanked the other people who swiftly left. “What a night,” the madam sighed out and you could picture her annoyed face with a wrinkled nose, “better get to work, sorry lot this is.”

You laid awake, listened and waited for the woman to be done with whatever she was doing so you could take a look at what was going on and who had been added to the hospital wing. It took nearly half an hour before the door closed and you could sit up. You slipped your feet in your slippers before you left the bed and pulled away the sheet that separated your little nook from the rest of the wing. You gasped.

Four bed were occupied by the Gryffindor boys who had tormented you, bullied you, tortured you both physically and mentally. You sneaked up to Prodington’s bed first. His face was swollen and bruised - by physical assault or a jinx you couldn’t say. He was unconscious and breathed heavily. But you were still afraid in his presence. So you took a step back and glanced towards the others, they were all in bad shape. Not as bad as Prodington but still in bad shape. Could- did- no he wouldn’t, why would he? I’m nothing to him, but…

Your thoughts swirled as a ridiculous part of you hoped and dreamed that Lucius had avenged you, retaliated for what the boys had done to you. It was a bad thought, that you were cause for harm but at the same time, you smiled. Not the regular smile you always carried but an actual smile, a warm smile, a conscious smile. A smile that perhaps, just perhaps, were a tad vicious. Perhaps it was rightfully so. It felt good and bad to be happy about someone else’s misery and that was not you, not in the slightest but your pain was too palpable, too raw, to be ignored. Whatever the reason, it serves them right.

“Happy?” You jolted and gasped as you spun around on the spot. Just a step in front of the closed door stood Lucius. His face was harsh yet there was a definite smile across his lips. A twinkle in his grey eyes and a small cut across one of his eyebrows. You had not heard him come in so his presence shocked you for a split second. “Did you-” He nodded slightly, casually, as if it were nothing. But to you, it was everything.

Except, you did not understand at all. He had done nothing but ignored you since you last kissed. He had seen the torment you endured verbally from your housemates, from other students, from most really. He had done nothing. Yet now, he harmed four people for your sake? It didn’t make sense. But sense and apparently left you as your body churned with warmth from his gaze and proximity. Your heart pounded when you looked at him and your pulse rushed from the sound of his voice uttering a single word.

“Why?” you asked as you turned fully towards him. He looked confused for a moment. But then he walked over towards you in measured steps. He placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head so he could gaze down on you. “Why? I thought that to be quite obvious?” “Not to me,” you whispered as his skin against yours made you burn and ache. Your mind scrambled as memories of the kisses you had shared weeks ago bubbled up. Your face warmed, a blush crept across your chest and throat, all the way up to your cheeks.

His arm came around you, tugged you closer gently. His thumb stroked your bottom lip gently and your breath hitched. You tried to remember how he had treated you but the only thing your brain screamed at you were hormonal acts of indecency and your body simple reacted to his touch by melding with his hold. “(Y/n),” he said in a low tone, “I do believe I made it quite obvious how I felt about you. Last time, did I not?” “You did, and then you changed.”

Where you found the courage to say such a thing you could not understand, but you did. He raised his brows ever so slightly. “I did tell you, I need to make you stay away from me. I can’t stay away from you. You drive me insane, I’m going mad as you just keep on smiling through everything.” “Except when you kiss me,” you whispered. “Except when I kiss you, then you cry.” You lowered your gaze at those words, he pressed a bit harder with his arm around your waist and made you look back up. “If I remember correctly, it made me feel rather special.” “You mentioned that,” you answered as your heart hammered harder. You wanted to smash your lips against his but something held you back from doing so.

“Why did you do this?” you asked. “Retaliate for you?” You shook your head, that was not what you had meant. “Why kiss me and make my dreams come true only to crush me, shatter me, by ignoring me. Why?” His face hardened, his cold grey eyes softened. “You would be broken in my world.” “I do believe you’re the peacock and I’m the tyrannosaurus rex. No?” You surprised yourself with yet another surge of courage despite the situation you were in and he smiled. It was a panty-ripping, heart-shattering, will-crushing smile that was pure perfection in your eyes. “True, that thing is quite astonishing.” “Your peacock is beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you, sweets.” Your heart tugged at the pet name he adorned you with as well as his thought about your appearance.

“You’re smiling, always smiling.” his voice was harsh and condescending, but it sounded more as if it were because it was so ingrained rather than anything else. And he was right. You were smiling, like always. Always smiling. “I know the world won’t be a better place for it-” “My world is.” Your eyes widened at his words, even if you wanted your head to remind you of how he had acted and what he had done by doing nothing, you could only think about kissing him again. But before you had time to consider it, his lips were firmly pressed against yours.

He tasted wonderfully good. The warmth of him against you was welcome in all ways. You pressed yourself into him, his arm around your waist tightened as his hand moved from your chin to cup your neck firmly. He commanded your attention and he decided how the kiss went. You were merely there for the ride, a passenger as he was the driver. You felt blissfully secure in that role.

Your hands landed at his hips and you grabbed fists full of fabric harshly to tug him even closer. He responded by kissing you more deeply and a slight hum escaped him. Your knees were weak and tears slid down your cheeks as your love for him were so overwhelming it had to leak out of you in that salty liquid. He held you more firmly and you ignored the protest of your aching ribs. Desperate to be as close to him as possible despite it all.

You were breathing heavily as you parted after a few moments. Slightly dizzy, slightly disoriented, but heavenly warm and happy. “Crying, again,” he muttered before his warm thumb stroked away your tears. “I can’t help it,” you whispered as your lips turned into a smile once more. “Is that so?” You nodded. “How come?” The question made you hesitate for a moment but you had not spent years pining after him to simply give up the chance of telling him. He obviously liked you too, he had said so last time and now he had retaliated against your bullies and kissed you passionately - again.

“Lucius, I’m-, I love you.” He stiffened at your honest words and you could barely force down any air in your tight lungs. His fingers stroked gently from your eyebrow and down along your cheek to your chin before he cupped it. His lips were smashed against your in the next instant. As if he were starving and you were a buffet. You clung to him as he embraced you. “As I do you,” he whispered between breaths while his lips were still against yours, “your smile, your way to be in the world. You, just as you are.” “Be with me,” you whispered back as you were desperately clinging to the hope he would be yours and you would be his. “I will ruin you,” he whispered and his voice was laced with hatred, anger. New tears leaked from your eyes as you quelled a sob as he kept on kissing you. “I don’t care,” you whispered, “I love you, I want to be with you. No matter what.” “And how will I live with myself when you are broken and ruined, destroyed?”

After those words, he broke the kiss. You looked into his cold grey eyes that seemed to shimmer and shine. His handsome face, framed by his beautiful hair, was in a league of its own for you. He was not comparable to anyone else. You had, time and time again, told yourself you did not know him and could not love him for only his looks. But you knew more about him than you cared to admit. Front eh way he held his fork to the distinct sound his steps made, from the way he tied his hair up to how he spoke depending on the person he addressed or spoke about. You knew his favourite food, colour, tie - all of it - simply because you cared enough to notice. What you had failed to notice was his feelings for you. You had failed to see the façade.

“I think you are managing just fine,” you whisper as you force yourself to take a step back from him and in doing so you forced him to release his arm from around your waist. “It doesn’t seem like it is that difficult for you. Just ignore me and I am not a problem, right?” Your voice was low and the smile had faded as you felt yourself shatter all over again. “Wrong,” he stated harshly, “wrong in all ways. I’m going mad, look at what I did for you.”

His hand swept over the Gryffindor boys that were laying in beds around you. You shivered. “That’s different,” you breathed out. “How?” “You punished others for what they did towards me, without owning up to the fact that you have hurt me more than anybody, ever.” He hissed at your words and recoiled a step. You looked at him and for once, just once, you allowed your mask to fade.

Your smile completely vanished, your shoulders lowered, your hands relaxed and hung without purpose by your sides, you allowed your face to release the forced muscles that portrayed happiness and the entirety of you turned into the sad, lonely, hurt and pained girl that you were. Broken, shattered.

Lucius took a deep breath as you literally transformed right then and there, in front of him, for him to see you as you were. Not who you portrayed daily. “(Y/n),” he breathed out and just as you thought he would leave you and let go of the possibility that there could be something between eh two of you his body was smashed against yours. So harshly you nearly lost your breath. He held you, firmly, with a small tremble to him that vibrated into you. “I had no idea,” he whispered in your ear with a cracked voice, “I’m so sorry, sweets. So sorry.” Your arms came around him and for a moment it felt as if you were home; like you were where you were meant to be. In his arms.

“I didn’t know, I didn’t see, I’m so sorry,” he repeated a few times as you melded with his body and breathed him in. Something inside of you healed at that moment, as something else grew and a third thing broke. It was complicated, messy, hard. But you loved him and wanted him, desperately, to love you back. He had nearly said as much, but not completely.

For a little while, it felt as if time stood still and all other things simply stopped existing. The hopeless feeling inside of you was drowned out by his warmth. The ache in your chest from deep within your heart lessened and then went quiet. The thoughts that screamed at you to pretend, to be happy, to smile and forced you to live as if you were in paradise went silent. It was bliss, for a moment.

The embrace was eventually broken and both of you leaned back. You stood utterly still in the middle of the hospital wing, surrounded by boys who had been bruised and battered by your love's hand in retaliation for what they had done to you. But when the light of day still shined outside it had been nothing like that. You had been alone, lost and broken. Shattered. More by his doing than anything else. That did not just simply go away because of a few words, a kiss or an embrace. Not even for an apology. But you wanted to forgive him and be with him, if he would be with you.

You wanted to leave it all behind and move on, with him by your side. You’d rather walk in rain by his side than in sunshine on your own. You would rather die than feel so shattered and be all broken inside. If he knew or not, he held your heart in his hands and you were prepared to never see it again. For better or for worse. If you could not give it to him, you did not want it. Even if you had tried to protect it, mend it, heal it. It belonged to him, irrevocably. For all time to come. And, really, who could live without a heart?

His hand came to your face. You were silently crying without even realising it. You were close to just letting it all go but his gentle touch brought you back to reality, back to him. “(Y/n), sweets, please. Forgive me for it, please.” You leaned into his touch while you closed your eyes and took a shaky breath before you could look at him again. “It’s not that simple, even if I love you. There, there needs to be more than a forgive and forget. I, I think I deserve more than that, Lucius…” The words pained you to say but they were true. “You are worth everything. If you’ll have me, I’d like to give you everything.”

Epilogue

Everything was different. Everything had changed. With Lucius by your side you were no longer alone or unsafe. You had love, friendship, safety and a place where you belonged. Right by his side. A place you planned to remain forever as Lucius made sure to make good on his word. He gave you everything he could, even if there wasn't much you wanted beside him and his love.

It had taken quite some time for him to realise that you just wanted him, to be with him and love him. Be loved by him. That had eventually changed something within him. As if he had not known love before. True love, love beyond the surface and the physical. Your heart had ached when you realised he was unfamiliar with such emotions, such experiences. It had only made you love him more.

It hadn’t been easy in the beginning. People talked, stared, took jabs at you and at first nothing really changed. Until realisation hit everyone, you belonged to Lucius Malfoy and he belonged to you. There was nothing more to it. You were a couple and if you were mistreated, he made sure the culprits paid a hefty price for it. You didn’t really like that but at the same time, you did not want to change him. It was who he was and a tiny, hidden, selfish part of you felt cherished when he reacted in such strong ways. When he took to violence and dark magic to protect you and keep you safe.

After a while, nobody bothered you anymore. You were still just ‘Lucius Malfoy’s girlfriend’ but that was all you wanted to be, for now. In the future, you wanted more. If that were possible or not was left to discover. You were a muggleborn and would never be accepted by his family. You were never to be fully accepted as you were among the purebloods. Maybe, in the future, things would change but you dared not believe that. It was more of a fantasy than anything. But you understood what Lucius had meant by breaking you. Sure, the problems were different, smaller even, but they meant more than the bullying at school. It was about who you were and what you wanted to become in a future that seemed so uncertain that you feared it.

But he loved you. He cared for you. He was with you, just because you were you. Even if he received hate and spiteful words about it. Even if some of his friends abandoned him and turned silent towards him. Even if his family berated him and threatened to disown him. He stood with you, held your hand, kissed you and loved you. He was, quite frankly, your everything and not a day went by without him showing you that you meant just as much to him.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @simpforsnape @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @elizabeth-baelish @all-art-is-quite-useless

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Mar:2021]

I’m still working on saving up for a new laptop since my little champ went to technology heaven a while ago. If you happen to have 2 bucks for cup of coffee and feel like supporting my writing please consider caffeinating me on Ko-Fi! ^^ Every little bit helps and I am so, so, so darn grateful for every donation! Thank you dearies and please stay safe and healthy during these crazy times we’re living in! <3

☕ Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#lucius x reader #lucius malfoy #lucius fanfiction #reader insert #x you #x reader #malfoy #muggleborn x pureblood #writing #my writing #deepperplexity #deepperplexity writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

54 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 4 years

Note

Thank you for being here for me during this difficult time 💜💜 could I request a fluffy fic with Bucky? They like each other and he's asked her out a few times but she feels she can't give him what he deserves in the future - a family and is afraid he would lose interest anyway if she told him the reason why

More than Forever

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,501

Summary: Bucky wants to take you out so badly but every time he asks you turn him down. When Steve gives him a good idea he runs with it and finds out exactly why you’ve been telling him no.

Author’s Note: Hello my beautiful friend. Thank you for requesting this of me. I really hope I wrote it well and you enjoy it. Sending you love and hugs always and forever! Thank you all for reading and much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Soft angst (please read the request above), lots of soft Bucky and sweet fluff, a happy ending!!! :)

“Steve, I don’t get it. It seems like she really likes me but every time I try to ask her to dinner or anything she politely declines. Am I nuts?” Bucky stares at his best friend, confusion and hurt etched across his features while he waits for Steve’s answer. With a heavy sigh Steve shrugs, giving Bucky an apologetic look. “It doesn’t make sense to me either Buck. Any time I see you two together it certainly seems like she’s happy and enjoying your company. I’m as clueless as you are.”

Dropping his head, Bucky rakes his hand over this face and groans into his coffee. “Have you tried something like a movie night? Maybe she’ll respond to something less formal?” Looking up Bucky smiles for the first time that morning, standing and clapping Steve on the back. “I knew you were good for something. This whole time I keep suggesting date nights out somewhere, maybe just relaxing in our room is the right start. Thanks Pal.”

Steve shakes his head and smiles into his coffee, mumbling, “good for something…sheesh.” Later that day Bucky finds you in the laundry room, humming a sweet tune as you fold your clothes. “Hey doll.” You spin around, a pair of your lace underwear clutched to your chest. “OH! Hi Bucky! I didn’t hear you come in, you scared me!” He tries to keep his eyes on yours, but they quickly dip down to the red lace in your hands and his cheeks begin to match their color.

Whipping them behind your back you give him a sweet smile, a quiet “sorry,” passing your lips. “No, it’s ok, those are really pretty, I bet they look amazing.” As soon as the words leave his mouth Bucky slaps his hand over his face, letting out a muffled curse into his palm. You walk over to him and pull his hand away, kissing his cheek. “It’s ok and thank you.”

His eyes drop to your lips, lingering for longer than they should before he looks back to you. “Hey, so I was looking for you because I wanted to ask you something. Since I can’t seem to get you out to dinner maybe we could just watch a movie together this weekend? You know, nice and relaxed in our pjs!” His tone is so hopeful, and his eyes are so bright you wouldn’t be able to say no again anyway. “That sounds great! But only if I get to pick the movie!”

Bucky instantly agrees and walks over to hug you, crushing you to his chest with a quiet thank you. “I can’t wait doll.” He leaves you to your laundry and you can’t help but feel excited for Saturday but you also can’t get rid of the niggling voice in the back of your head, telling you, he won’t want this once he knows your secret.

The weekend arrives and you’ve only wanted to cancel on him 5 times, however, you could never bring yourself to do it, his happy face a permanent image in your mind. He arrives to your room right on time with snacks and drinks in hand, smiling from ear to ear. “You ready?!” Pushing back your doubts you focus on just how much you like him and how much you enjoy his company. “I am Buck. I’ve been looking forward to this!”

Once you’re both settled on the couch and curled up under the blanket you turn on the movie. Bucky had admitted to never seeing Star Wars, so you decided to start with episode 4 and show him what he’s been missing. Halfway through the movie his arm finds its way around your shoulder and your legs are resting in his lap. You lay your head against his chest and relax into his warmth.

The movie ends and Bucky pulls you closer, hooking his finger under your chin, “I loved it!” His lips are so close to yours and you can’t help the way you lean into him. “I knew you would,” you whisper, trying to control your body. “You know what my favorite part was?” You shake your head no, starting to feel dizzy from his closeness. “Being here with you and having you in my arms.” Those are the last words spoken before his lips meet your in a soft kiss. It’s better than you ever imagined, and you melt against him, hooking your arms around his neck. Bucky drags you into his lap and deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth as you open up for him.

The instant his hand brushes the warm skin along your stomach you pull away, all your insecurities rushing back and drowning you in a wave. “Bucky. I…I can’t,” you cry, getting off him and hurrying to the bathroom. “Doll?” he asks, running after you and lightly knocking on the door. “Baby, what happened? I’m sorry if that was too much. I didn’t mean to…I just…I like you. A lot.” You don’t answer, trying to hold back your sobs as your heart breaks.

He doesn’t say more and you’re starting to think he left until a small piece of paper slips under the door. ‘I’m going to sit out here in case you need me. Don’t feel pressured to come out, but I’m here when you’re ready.’ It makes you start to cry again, your hand covering your mouth as you sink to the floor. After what feels like an hour you slowly crack open the door and find Bucky sitting on the floor against the opposite wall.

He shoots up but doesn’t go to touch you, dropping his hand to his sides as he gives you a concerned look. “If you don’t want to talk, I’ll go, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Fresh tears start to well up and you throw yourself at him, curling into his chest when he wraps you tight in his arms. For a few minutes you just cry, and he holds you, no words spoken. When you finally start to calm down, he picks you up and carries you to the couch.

With you seated in his lap he waits patiently while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry,” is the first thing you say, and he immediately starts to shake his head to disagree. “No, no, just wait, let me explain.” He snaps his mouth shut at that and focuses on you. “I’m sorry that I’ve been saying no to all your dates and I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful as to why. This is just very difficult and to be honest I’m worried that once I tell you, you won’t want to take me out anymore.”

A few stray tears run down your cheeks and he softly kisses them away. “Bucky,” you whisper, cradling his jaw in your hand. “It’s ok, doll. I’m not going to run away, no matter what you say.” Taking a deep breath, you look into his eyes and they’re free of judgement and it gives you the courage to continue.

“I like you too. A lot,” you say with a sad smile, “but I can’t give you a family, if that is something you were to want in the future. It’s not easy to talk about this and I didn’t want to lead you on thinking I could give that to you when I couldn’t.” Bucky’s silence makes the knot in your stomach tighter, a sob bubbling up in your throat.

He senses your panic and quickly takes your face in his hands. “That’s ok. It’s ok baby.” He watches you let out a shuddering breath before he goes on. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you’re hurting. I do want a family some day and I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about that with you. But there are other ways for us to be a family. We could start by adopting a dog. Then maybe a kid or two…if that were something you would be willing to do. We could explore all the options. Together.”

The sob in your throat finally breaks free but this time it’s from relief. “Really, Bucky? You would consider doing that?” He smiles and it’s full of warmth and his eyes are full of truth as he vigorously shakes his head yes. “Of course. There are so many kids that need homes and dogs too! We could adopt 5 each!” he laughs, kissing your lips.

Time seems to slow as you once again find yourself in his lap with his strong arms caressing your skin. He parts your lips with his tongue and silently asks for permission as his fingers smooth over your hips and dig into the soft flesh. You pull away to take a breath, smiling against his lips when he asks, “so does these mean you’ll finally let me take you to dinner?” With an enthusiastic nod you push him down on the couch, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him again.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @breezy1415 @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @bugsbucky @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @emilylyoness @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @itsunclebucky @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @jewels2876 @jhangelface0523 @kaosera @loricameback @lorilane33 @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @tuiccim @addikted-2-dopamine @the-wayward-robot @yansi1923 @bucky-on-my-mind

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky x you #steve rogers #sebastian stan #tw: infertility

637 notes · View notes

fragileizywriting · 3 years

Text

locker talk (chapter 2) is out now!

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 8,961 / 16,208 (in total) chapter: 2/3 rating: E summary: “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Did something happen at Uni, again?” “I’m peachy,” Multimouse wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.” Luka barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks.

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

Thank you so much for the love you've given me for this fic! I appreciate every single one of you so much 💕💕💕💕

The third chapter will be posted very soon!!!

She’s showered. She’s shaved. She’s gotten shampoo in her eye.

She hopes the redness isn’t noticeable.

Multimouse is many things— friendly, approachable, known as Paris’s sweetheart with many sweet bakery treats named after her using puns, such as Multi-feuille, or Multideleines— but they have no idea that she sits on top of the Liberty’s roof, wiggling her toes over the Seine, trying not to bite her lips raw at the thought of trying to seduce the guy she’s already had a feverish moment with.

It’s a soft night, with small dots of twinkling stars that burn and force their way through the light-polluted Parisian night, but she doesn’t mind how it’s dark enough out that no one can really see her unless they purposely go looking for her. She’s practically invisible, with the closest street lamp to her still being too far away for her to be illuminated by it. No one knows that she’s here— no one knows that she’s hiding in the shadows.

Quiet— quaint— small and hidden away like an actual mouse that sticks to the shadows so that she isn’t seen. She’s not sure if it’s Mullo’s instincts that coerce her to stick to the shadows or if it’s just her nerves.

After all— getting here, onto the Liberty, was half of the battle for her.

She’s never done this before. She’s never even considered this an option… how does she do this? She doesn’t even have a solid plan.

And Multimouse never not has a plan.

Even if she knows that Viperion— no, Luka— likes her, thinks about her sexually— she just can’t shake the feeling that her confession isn’t going to work out in her favor, that she’s going to walk away embarrassed and humiliated.

She can prepare and prepare again and over prepare for whatever she’s planning all she wants— but it’s the actual doing part that she usually gets stuck on. She can shower, she can shave, she can get shampoo in her eyes— she can text Juleka to maybe casually imply that she’s going to try to confess to her brother, not mentioning that she’s going to do it as her superhero identity instead of Marinette, and actually get Juleka to push everyone out of the house on one nice and evening Friday night— but none of that matters if she doesn’t actually get here.

She got here.

And now is dawdling on the next step— actually talking to him.

She has to try. Juleka had cleared the boat of stragglers in record time when she found out that she’d been planning on confessing to her brother— Multimouse seriously has no idea how the girl managed to get her mother off the boat, but she’s gone. It’s just him in there now. She’s grateful that she doesn’t have access to her nails to chew them through, because she’s shaking like a battery from how much her nerves consume her.

She plays with her necklace between her hands as she leans forward to put her elbows on her thighs, looking out to the water below— looking down at how the only open-blind window on the boat flickers with light as he passes next to it.

It sounds like he’s finished taking his shower— but all of it is really muffled, given that he lives in the equivalent of a metal can with sails— but either way, she stands up and starts to creep her way towards the front entrance of his house before she can convince herself that this is a bad idea and that she should turn around and book it and pretend that she never thought of this idea in the first place. Besides, it can’t be that bad of an idea, right?

This is a bad idea.

This is a very bad idea— oh— oh no.

She barely finishes knocking on the window next to the door before he pulls it open with a yelp and a curse spilling out of his lips, halfway through putting on his shirt. She stands there, transfixed, trying not to burst into flames as she catches the sight of toned and defined muscle from years of hard-earned wins against Hawkmoth disappear behind the widest shirt in existence with a heavy-metal band logo she’s never heard of, and how those muscles trail down and disappear into very low-riding sweatpants.

She knows he has muscles— she knows how big his arms are and that the pattern of his scales on his suit aren’t just to give the illusion of abs— because she’s seen him many times before with barely anything of a shirt on when the summer heat in Paris is too rough and everyone piles onto the Liberty to attempt to catch a draft.

She’s seen the way his back muscles move when he’s helping tear down stage sets for his band— she’s had many glass bottles of soda slip out of her hands at the sight of him naturally keeping up with Ivan and Kim’s strength— she’s seen all of it. Luka is nothing short of strong.

But now she knows just how it feels to have those same muscles pressed up against her. She might faint. “Uhm.”

“Hey! Sorry— I didn’t know you were going to come over tonight— you scared me with that knock. I thought I had the whole boat to myself.” Luka smiles at her, using his arm with the snake tattoo that wraps and coils around his forearm to pull out a couple necklaces of his own from underneath his shirt. Even though the shirt is wide, it seems to have a bit of a problem wrapping comfortably around his shoulders— and the neckline is wide enough to show his collarbones.

What does she even focus on? What does she want to look at the most?

“Sorry—” She blinks fast. Shirt. Chest. Arms. Sweatpants. Smile. Lips. Lips that bruised her neck so badly she had to keep her hair down for the entire week just to hide it from Alya’s enthusiastic gaze. Kissable lips. Lips she imagines all over her body all the time. Lips that— “S-sorry! Uhm. I’m just, uh— I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“I’m kidding, Mousey—” He’s all teeth when he smiles. She knows how those feel on her skin now, too— she knows how it feels to have him drag his mouth and lips all over her jaw— she has to lean against the door frame to stop herself from collapsing from how much she wants to feel it all over again. Her skin feels sensitive just at the thought. “I just got out of the shower and it was totally quiet out there. Really did think it was just going to be a quiet night by myself. Even mom’s out— probably went to go harass that last cop that gave her warning for the noise complaint. What do you think?”

Had he thought about her in the shower? He’s not flushed at all— nothing indicative of anything he had said inside the closet about how he’s always thinking of her— but Luka’s usually not one to lose his cool. It’s impossible to get a gauge out of his emotions when he hides it— something he’s incredibly good at when he’s Viperion. She’s shown up after his shower— presumably the time where he thinks about her in the most private way— and there’s absolutely nothing telling her that it’s true.

She never would’ve known if he hadn’t told her in the closet.

Assuming he even was telling the truth…

“Mousey?”

She snaps back into focus. “Oh! Right! Uhm— are you busy? D-do you want me to leave? Come back another time? When you’re not busy? Very busy?”

“Busy? Yeah, right,” He snorts good humoredly. “Busy on my laptop watching videos, probably. This place is an absolute bust when there’s no one here— you’re doing me a favor by being here.”

“S-so you don’t want me to leave?” She eeps. If he even makes one single implication that he doesn’t want her to show up, she’ll turn around and leave with no hesitation— her nerves are eating at her to the point where she’s ready to run anyways.

“No, of course not. Stay. Please.” He adjusts his necklaces to stop tangling with each other. They jingle when they hit together— a pleasant clinking noise on a pleasant night, but she’s busy taking in how shiny and pearlescent his arm is with the beautiful blue color on the coils of the snake’s body and how it matches the gold diamond shapes in strategic places. “You’re always welcome here, you know. I love it when you’re here.”

“Yep— yes. Totally.”

His hair is so much blacker and so much more bluer when it’s wet. She can’t stop staring at him, her mouth shaped into a circle, as he looks down at her with a shift in his brows when he’s stopped focusing on his necklaces. “You okay?”

“Wet.”

He blinks very slowly, speaking to her so softly, almost as if she’ll scamper off if he startles her. “Oh. Are you?”

“I meant— I meant your hair—” She squeaks, trying her best not to catch on fire from the way her cheeks heat and steam, waving her hands in the air, steaming harder when he laughs. “Sorry— oh my gooseberries I’m so sorry— that was so weird I didn’t mean to say that outloud, I mean, I just, I didn’t know you wash your hair at night— uhm— it just caught me by surprise!”

“Take a breath,” He smiles.

“Sorry,” She does.

“You need to work on your meditation again, you’re not focusing as well as you usually do.” He tilts his head with a wink. She tries her best not to follow the drops of water down his neck, down to where there’s a very obvious bruise on the side of his neck. Oh. Oh. She did that. She… she did that. She bit him. And grinded on him. And listened to him talk about how much he wanted to finger her— “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Something happen at Uni again?”

“I’m peachy,” She wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.”

He barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks. “Alright, let’s backtrack for a bit so you get your focus back. Do you not wash your hair at night?”

She’s so thankful for this man.

“My hair is too thick for that, I need to wash it in the mornings or it’ll never dry.” She ignores her voice crack. What is she doing, talking about hair care at his door, eyes missile-locked onto the bite mark on his neck? Why is she like this? “A-anyway! Sorry to— drop in on you— I know it’s really late— uhm— I just wanted to, uh— talk? To you? Maybe? But, again, it’s okay if you’re busy— watching videos is always really fun, isn’t it? I totally won’t mind—”

“You’re thinking too much, Mousey.” He grins. “It’s fine. I’ve never not wanted you here before, right? Let’s shut the door before someone sees you.”

As if Paris would believe anyone gossipping about Paris’s sweetheart dropping by a houseboat in the middle of the city, chatting up a man only a year older than her during the night time. She’s pretty sure that everyone is convinced that she’s perpetually stuck at the age of fifteen, instead of twenty four— always too small and too cinnamon roll and too pure to be sneaking into men’s houses, because that’s not what Multimouse does.

Sometimes being adored by millions and being put on a pedestal by this city is taxing. She doesn’t mind being considered sweet and friendly— but it’s exhausting to have to hear the slight infantilization the city ends up pushing on her. Maybe she should try cursing in public during a fight— see how many people she ends up disappointing.

She wonders if Luka hates being considered the silent, brooding type. He’s approachable— but most people on the internet and Alya’s commenters on the blog assume that he’s dark— mysterious— handsome and well spoken almost like a prince.

If only.

He has a mouth of a sailor. She’s seen him get coffee foam up his nose from laughter whenever she tries the aerial rope and continuously ends up failing. He doesn’t know how to swim, even though he lives on a boat— he writes so much music in his notebooks that his room is an absolute mess of paper that he tries to keep organized using folders and binders and sticking loose leafs of poetry on the walls.

The last time they watched a documentary about penguins, he’d cried the whole way through, talking about how he wishes he could help all the exhausted and freezing little chicks. Not to mention whenever there’s a documentary about rodents on the television, he ends up crying too, smothering her in hugs that makes her face burst into flames.

The comments did get it right about the handsome, though. Very handsome.

“A-are you sure?”

“Come on. I want you inside.”

She closes the door behind her, making sure that her tail isn’t snipped off on accident, trying not to loop the words come and I and want and you in her head. Even with all the nasty, absolutely dirty things he’s said to her already— somehow that manages to get her knees to almost buckle.

“So, uhm, is your family home? Juleka? Maybe?” Her voice is absolutely not this high! Get it together!

He blinks at her curiously, thinning his lips as he no-doubt tries to keep his laughter in. Luka’s always been a tease. “You know the answer to that, don’t you?”

Does he mean that he knows that Marinette was supposed to show up to his house? Oh, no. What has she done? Was it a bad idea telling Juleka to possibly go to Rose’s house, and maybe spend the night there, if all went well? How does she get out of this one? “W-well— I—”

“Best hearing in Paris, after all, right? You’d be able to hear if anyone else was on the boat with us.”

Duh. God, she feels like an idiot. “Y-yeah. I know. I just— I just wanted to know. To hear you say it, I mean.”

“Did you?” His face transforms into one full of humor, and she can do nothing but bite her lip raw at how handsome he is when his eyes crinkle in that boyish way of his. “What did you want to hear me say, Mousey?”

Anything. Everything. As long as he keeps talking, she’ll be miserable— but loving every moment of it, and he’ll have no idea because Luka doesn’t know that she knows he’s Viperion and thinks about his voice so often that she’s constantly balancing on a hair trigger.

“Uhm—” She taps her fingers along her thighs. “I— you know— I just wanted to hear you say that we’re alone.”

“Only that?” He hums, turning around to go probably drop off his towel back in the bathroom.

“Yes?” She’s never been so unsure before in her life, and she flounders as she follows him further into the boat, following him into his room just past the kitchen. “I mean yes obviously— why would I— need or want more— uhm— that would be— weird and definitely wouldn't make any contextual sense— I mean it’s not as if I—”

He pauses to look at her. She does her absolute best not to burst into flames. “You know, I’ve never realized it until now— you are absolutely one horny girl, little mouse. Dropping by and immediately asking me to start pillow talking you—”

She doesn’t even hear him, bouncing on the balls of her boots, squeaking a floorboard that is always loose no matter how much the Couffaines try to glue or hammer it down. She’s certain she’s watched them rip out just to put back a new floorboard— and yet it still continues to squeak. “That’s not true! That’s totally not true I’m— you know— I’m just—”

“Yes?”

“It’s just that your voice is melodical— it’s so soothing and you know I have anxiety and things but being able to hear your voice always makes me calm down— it’s so nice to just— just relax— and let someone else think of things for me—”

“Breathe, Mousey.”

“Thank you.” She gasps in air, proving his point for him.

His eyes shine with something as she sucks in her breaths. “How long have you been waiting for me to pull you inside and take care of you?”

She whines, crossing her arms. “You’re being totally unfair right now, Luka, you can’t just start talking dirty to me—”

He laughs, pulling open the door to his room. “I’m not talking dirty to you, not yet.”

“And just assume that I’ll listen—”

He pauses again to look at her, and it’s enough to make her bite her lip by how absolutely jaw-dropping he looks. “Oh, you won’t? And here I thought that’s what you wanted. Is that not what you wanted?”

“What do you—”

His eyelashes are black smudges against his cheeks as his gaze drops to her lips when he brushes her jaw with the back of his hand. “Do you not want me to take care of you in the way you want? Do you not want me to tell you all of the filthiest things you want to hear?”

“Gooseberries you have no idea how much I’ll listen if you do because I will— I promise you I will— I mean I’ll do anything as long as you keep talking— I promise— I’ll be good for you, I promise—” She almost smacks her forehead in an attempt to stop squeaking out her words, instead choosing to nearly rub her cheeks raw with her gloves.

Gentle and giant hands reach for her wrists with such slowness it almost boarders asinine. “Hey. Don’t hurt yourself— that looks like it hurts.”

She drops her hands from her face without question, letting him pet and smooth away the redness from her skin. “But— I— come on, I have to focus first! At least let me try to say what I came here to say, don’t just immediately flip the script back on me!”

He turns to walk into his room, leaving her standing there, looking around and wondering if that was an invitation to start talking. He’s cleaned his room a bit— there’s no laundry on the floor this time— but his room still continues to look like a snake’s den from how cluttered it is.

He sits down comfortably in that pouf chair of his, the one she’s always wondered how it fit through the front door. Maybe they floated it in through the window, she’s not sure. It’s massive— huge— full of stuffing and fun to sit on whenever she’s here for a party and is starting to feel drunk, or here to goof off in his presence whenever it’s just the two of them and she has nothing better to do. It’s close enough to Luka’s bed that it feels like a challenge, for her, and she always feels victorious whenever she manages to convince herself to sit there.

“How long have you known, Mull?”

“K-known what?” She freezes at the doorframe, finally realizing what’s happened when he simply spins the leather strap of his miraculous on his wrist, looking at her with raised brows. “Uhm.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh oh. Oh no. Oh no. How did you—”

“I don’t think you make it a habit of begging any man you come across, unless you know who they are already.”

“I— yes— only you, Luka. I’ve only begged for you.” She nods very slowly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” Some form of a thought twinkles in his eyes as he says it. “Not yet, at least. Don’t freak out, it’s okay that you know. I kind of figured you knew. It’s okay.”

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

“But—” She gestures around. “How?”

He tilts his head, looking at her with such a curious face. “Intuition, I guess. Or maybe paranoia. Hey, have you known for longer than a year?”

“Ah—” She shifts on her feet. “No. Sort of. I kinda was guessing it, but— I mean— I got genuine confirmation about a month ago.”

“Have you been showing up because you knew?”

“No, no. I didn’t know when I first started showing up— I’ve been showing up because I really like you— you as in Luka, that is. And then I found Sass playing hide and seek with Mullo when I went to the bathroom, and, well I totally didn’t know what to do when I found out that you were actually in fact my partner— and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you and by then I— I had already— fallen in— uhm— with you on both sides—”

This takes him by surprise. “You’ve been here detransformed?”

She pinches her eyes shut. “Uhm—”

“We know each other, don’t we?” He exhales. “That— I mean— that does make sense. You are always so conveniently close by whenever there’s an Akuma that attacks the Liberty— and only god fucking knows why it’s always the Liberty. You’d think my mom would learn after a while to stop picking fights with the cops. Or the government in general. This place is a breeding ground for Akumas— Hawkmoth is one day just going to set up camp around here, I think.”

He taps at his jaw as he thinks. No doubt he’s trying to place her as one of his friends— or maybe his sister’s.

“It’s a good thing Couffaines know how to party, right?” She eeps into the silence, trying not to bolt for the door. Would he try following her? Would he grab her and pin her down so she can’t try to give up from how embarrassed she is? Would he let her go? She’d be far too easy to catch, if he did go after her— she’s weak at the knees at the idea of being in his arms again. “I mean— It’s always so much fun being here but I understand if you don’t want me to— to show up— anymore— and—”

“Little mouse, I hope you know I’m not mad. I can’t be mad at you.” Those six little words makes her legs weak by how thankful she is. She could weep— already starting to feel how her eyes water at the words. “I’d never be mad at you for knowing. I just— I wish I knew sooner, too.”

“I didn’t know what to do—” She hunches her shoulders, trying her absolute best not to curl in on herself but not having too much of a say in it as her body goes through the motions on its own. “I couldn’t just stop showing up, cause then you’d suspect it—”

“It would’ve been okay if you had told me, just like there’s nothing wrong with you telling me now.” He extends out his arm, asking for her hand.

She hides her face in her gloves. “I’m sorry. I really, really am sorry, Luka— I really f-fucked up.”

“No you didn’t.”

Those words fill her stomach with butterflies, stopping her from forming any more tears. “I— I didn’t?”

“Of course not, Mull. It’s okay.”

“But I—”

“It’s alright— I know why you didn’t tell me— it’s okay. I’m not upset at you— I’m not disappointed.” He gives her a smile. “Come here. You look like you’re about to cry— I don’t want you to cry.”

She crosses into his room, making sure to step over the scattered amps and repeaters— his guitar case, too— willingly reaching for his hand by giving him four of her fingers. His smile widens when she makes contact with his hands— his fingernails nearly as black as her suit.

His thumb rubs against the hexleather that wraps around her knuckles, and she tries her best not to sound so needy when she drops to her knees so they can be at a better height with each other. She doesn’t like it when she’s taller, so she fits between the opening of his legs just enough so she can place her forearm on his thighs, looking up at him with what she hopes is a thankful smile, even as her eyesight wavers.

“Congratulations on saying your first curse word,” He pets underneath her eyes with a laugh. She can’t feel it, because of the domino mask, but it’s comforting enough to her that her eyes squint at the sensation. “I never thought I’d be the one to hear it first.”

“I’ve cursed before,” Her smile twitches as she tries not to giggle despite the tears that collect at the sides of her eyes. “I just don’t make it a habit.”

“Oh yeah? What other curse words have you said?”

“I think I’ve said ‘ass’ before.” She has to think about it, much to his amusement. “Well. If I hadn’t before, I guess I have now.”

His laughter consumes him. “What a milestone.”

“You’ve been many of my firsts,” She smiles with him. “Maybe hopefully all of them can be with you, too?”

His face blossoms in color— she’s never seen him caught so off guard before. Maybe he isn’t as cool and collected as she’s always thought— maybe he does actually get satisfaction when she says what’s on her mind about how she’s wanting to have everything with him. “God, who are you, Mull? Who’s the girl of my dreams who keeps telling me she wants everything I can give her? Is it even a good idea to tell me?”

“You can know,” She nods, shivering as he brushes her jawline with his black nails and back of his palm. She likes these gentle touches— she likes the way it feels to have such a loving hand on her. “It’s only fair.”

“Hmmm, no. I want you to tell me if you want to tell me.” His eyes narrow at her. “Don’t tell me just to even the playing field. If you want to remain anonymous, I don’t mind.”

It always worries her at how plain kind and loyal he is. He would be completely right if he decided to kick her out— or to turn her away— but instead of any anger or resentment he’s simply there.

He’s always there for her— always making sure that she’s okay. If she’s eaten. If she’s going to get home safely, when the Akuma attacks are at night. It’s hard not to fall in love with a man who cares about her in the way he does. He’s always been a nurturing man— he’s never hard on her, even when he has the right to be.

Well. He’s only hard on her when they’re stuck in a closet together.

“You don’t?”

“Okay, maybe that’s a bit of a lie,” Luka smiles as he looks down at her. His sweatpants are soft against her cheek as she continues to blink slowly up at him, trying not to purse her lips in want. “I’m very curious about who you are, Mousey. I’ve always wondered who’s the girl underneath— I’ve known you since we were fifteen. Of course I want to know more about the girl who takes up so much of my notebooks.”

“I don’t mind you knowing.” She eeps.

“You don’t?”

“No— not at all! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, really, Luka. Our friends kept telling me to try asking you out— god, Jules especially, but I— I really couldn’t do any of it, I kept chickening out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And then I found out that it’s so much easier to talk to you when I’m in the suit— so I— I kept trying to get the courage to ask you out in the suit and then I found out that you’re Viperion and I just didn’t know how to handle it— so I just— and then the closet— and I made up my mind to tell you— you— today about my feelings. Pretty sure your sister was going to fillet me alive if I texted her saying I couldn’t do it. ”

Something clicks in his head, she can see it. “Marinette.”

“Well, yeah, I mean I could’ve tried as myself but I mean I don’t have any faith in myself at all—” She almost bites her tongue. “What?”

“Marinette?” He tilts his head. “The only person I know that could be your height— could be your size— and a girl I’ve barely been able to get a couple of sentences out of.”

“Hi.” Multimouse says, trying to swallow, but somehow not being able to. “Yes. That’s me?”

“Hi,” His smile softens. “That makes sense, you know. Juleka even thought that the hickey on my neck was from you when she saw it, and I didn’t understand why.”

How mortifying. “S-she did?”

“Oh. Oh. That’s why you ended up in my bed that one night, isn’t it? Because you like me and you were too drunk to stop wanting to cuddle?”

She worries her lip between her teeth. His gaze drops to watch her chew her bottom lip almost raw. “Oh. Yes— that’s— uhm. Please don’t hate me— I’m sorry— your bed has always looked so comfortable— and I really wanted to sleep next to you—”

“Take a breath, Mari.” His eyes glitter when she sucks in a breath on command. She would feel embarrassed by how easy it is for her to comply, but all she feels is warmth that starts to coil in between her legs whenever he tells her to do something. “It’s okay. I’m so happy it’s you.”

“You are? You don’t hate me?”

“Absolutely don’t hate you. I’d never be able to hate you— how could I hate you?”

“No?”

“Never.”

“Not even if I got us stuck in a closet together for an hour—”

“Definitely not then, either.” He grins. “Fuck, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. About you.”

“M-me neither,” She confesses easily, trying not to shift too much between his legs. “I— I’ve been wanting— uhm—”

“Ah, yes. That. You can say it, can’t you?” He leans forward so that she has to lean back in order to not get her face shoved into his chest from the angle. “Can you say it for me? I want to hear you say it, if you’re willing.”

She cranes her neck up to look at him square in the eyes, still sitting on her folded knees and calves, looking at the way his mouth quirks to the side as he licks his teeth. His necklaces dangle— jingle like dog tags between them— hitting her lightly on the collarbone but with just enough pressure to make her make a noise that sounds like an unf. “I— uhm— I’ve been wanting more. Ever since we did it in the closet.”

He almost looks surprised at her admission. “Good job, Mull.”

She feels a little brave. “I want to— if you’re willing— spend the night with you. Please.”

He groans. “Of course I want to spend the night with you. Every night. Keep you here in my room for weeks— you don’t have to ask if I’m willing— but it’s nice to hear it. It always reminds me at how good of a person you are.”

Warmth explodes on her cheeks as she blushes. “I’ve— I’m— I have to ask.”

“I know.”

“I know that I’m the one that is always so shy and timid— but— you deserve to have your boundaries respected too, Luka.”

“I think I like this better than when you call me Vai,” He laughs. He kisses her on the cheek— below the eyelids— where the lip of her domino mask meets skin— missing her mouth entirely even as she turns to try to meet him. She tries not to whine as she grips the fabric that bunches at his knees. “Not that the nickname isn’t good— it’s perfect— but you don’t understand just how many times I jack off while thinking about you calling me by my real name, Mousinette.”

She squeaks at the nickname, trying not to blossom into a full-body red. “I— how many times?”

“Every night,” He says simply, like he’s relaying the weather. He has no idea how his words burn in her core— why her tail becomes so agitated, even if it’s only half sentient— why exactly she gasps as she feels a sharp zing that settles between her legs. “I’m so glad that Marinette ended up being the little mouse I think about every night.”

“Every—?”

“Imagine my surprise, getting out of a shower after thinking about nothing but you and all the noises you made in my ear and seeing you stand there in front of my door.” He grins against her skin. Will he bite her? Snatch her and keep her? Use her as nothing but a bed warmer? “Fuck, Mousey. If I hadn’t been debating on whether or not you knew I would’ve dragged you into my room and onto my bed without even saying hello.”

“Please. Please.” She swallows, the idea of never leaving his burrow almost making her want to pounce on him. “I want that.”

“It’s getting harder and harder to stop thinking about you when you’re gone.”

“W-why?”

“You don’t think I can forget about you after that wonderful performance you gave me, do you?” Even when not transformed, and he doesn’t have any fangs, his teeth graze along her skin in a way that makes her toes twitch in her boots. She shivers as he follows her neck up to the patch of skin behind the ear, nosing into the sensitive area to the point where she pants. “I’ll be honest, I came home that night wanting more.”

“I— I can— give you more,” She tilts her head to the side, letting him kiss and suck bruises into her skin. She bruises like a peach, usually, and for the second time in her life she’s so thankful for how pale her skin is. “S-so much more.”

“Can you?”

“Please— I can give you anything you’d like, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it—”

“Within reason, of course.”

“Within reason,” She parrots, but more out of politeness than anything else. It’s only fair for her to agree— she obviously doesn’t want to be uncomfortable throughout any of this— but her list of potential no’s is definitely dwindling as the nights go on and she is subjected to fantasy after fantasy of what she wants him to do with her. To her. The preposition isn’t important anymore. She wants it all. “But I’d do anything for you, Luka. I— I may not have done much— any— at all before, but I want to. I trust you not to do anything damaging, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No— of course not. I wouldn’t dream of putting you through pain.”

Something cold whooshes in her stomach. “N-no?”

“I’m not a brute, you know— you deserve something gentle— I want to be gentle with you— I’m still worried you’re afraid of me. Besides, I don’t like the idea of hurting you in general, it wouldn’t feel right.”

“No? Not… even a little tiny smidge? Maybe?” She squeaks out that last part, feeling self conscious about the way he pauses. There’s a question forming, she can tell by the way his brows pinch together— she bites her lip to stop herself from making a noise.

His gaze drops to her lips, and instead of responding to what she’s proposed, he whispers out: “Don’t hurt yourself, Mousey.”

He kisses her. Hard— almost painful, ironically— with the way he clicks their teeth together as she whines. He slides his hand to keep it at the back of her neck, kissing her in the same way they had in the closet. There’s a pull at her wrist, and an arm snaking underneath her shoulder, and she finds herself being deposited onto his lap.

Oh, she’s missed this.

Sweet gooseberries. She can already feel how stiff he’s starting to get in these criminally low sweatpants of his— and she hasn’t even done anything besides kiss him a bit and just tell him how she really feels. The man underneath her is honest, and never would be able to lie to her about his feelings— he really is enjoying this.

She wants him to enjoy everything.

Everything.

“What kind of hurt are you into, Mousinette?” He hums. His voice feels like pure ecstasy in her veins as he rumbles out his words, and she nearly loses feeling in the very same legs that prop her up when gives her a swat on her ass, causing her to gasp. The impact is lessened by the properties of her hexleather— but it’s enough to make her face flush and lashes flutter. “Oh. Oh. So you mean that kind?”

“Luka—”

“You’ve never done anything and yet you already know that you like getting spanked. Incredible, little mouse— do you practice on yourself with the things you like?”

She nods. “I’ve only been able to— to try out things on myself, but, yes— I know a lot about what I like— and— and don’t, by trial and— error—”

“Fuck that’s hot. Just how far do your fantasies go, I wonder?” He laughs. “Tell me, please. I want to know all of it— you know, I never got to hear what you think about when you’re fingering yourself— even though you promised.”

“I did. You’re right— I really did. But maybe later, we have other things to do—” She tries kissing him again, but he tilts his head enough so that she ends up kissing the corner of his mouth, and she whines. “Luka, please— I want—”

“I can’t do what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” He mouths against her jaw. “Please tell me. What was the last idea you fingered yourself to?”

“I thought about how I want you to pin me down—” Her breath hitches when he follows the curve of her spine with his fingers. “I thought about how I want— I need— you to bend me over— and— and take off my clothes— I can be totally naked for you and you can wear every single piece of clothing on you, I promise it’s okay— let me be yours, Luka—”

He hisses. “Shit, Mousey. Where do you want me to fuck you?”

“On your bed— your kitchen table—” She scrambles to come up with answers as he continues to move his fingers up and down her back, petting her so gently it almost feels like a tease. “Outside, too, o-on the— on the deck—”

“Oh, you liked the outside idea, didn’t you?”

“Yes— yes—”

“What do you want me to do to you?” At her whining and begging, he smiles at her with such gentility she feels like she’s melting. “Please. Please tell me.”

She whooshes air out of her lungs. “I want you to finger me like you said you would— finger me until I come three times.”

“Four, Mousey.” He amends. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re gushing all over my fingers. I’ll make a fucking mess out of you.”

“F-four.” She parrots, feeling her eyesight go hazy at the idea. She hears her tail hit something— probably the side of his bed— but she can’t focus enough to pay attention to it. “Eat— eat me out, too. Please. Uhm. M-maybe finger me and— and maybe suck my— my clit at the same time.”

She has to pause so that he can kiss her, coaxing her tongue into his mouth. He sucks on her tongue like he’s trying to prove something to her— she’s not sure what— but regardless of whatever it is, it’s enough for her to whine and pant, gripping his wet strands of hair between her fingers to stop herself from rubbing herself all over his chest and abs.

“You’d do this all outside on the deck of the Liberty?” He hums when he breaks away, licking the bridge of saliva that formed between their mouths.

“More than just that, but, yes—”

He gives a noise of approval that makes her wetter. “What do you think Paris would say if they ever caught a glance of Viperion breeding Multimouse on rooftops across the city, or finding out that you beg for it and don’t stop begging until you’re satisfied? Do you think they would be upset with you because you weren’t behaving like the proper princess everyone thinks you are?”

She wants it. She wants it so badly. The idea is so tantalizing that she can feel that low buzz of an incoming dry-orgasm, never even touched— never even fingered. Oh, how this man is everything she’s ever wanted. Just being able to sit in his lap is enough to get her to want to stain her suit.

“I don’t care,” She breathes, and she really does shift, then, her knees not being able to handle holding her up in any way any longer. She sits on his thighs, her legs spread wide so that they can go over his— everything about him is massive and so much bigger than her. “Anywhere— anywhere you decide on taking me, Luka— I want to do it anywhere you want to, I don’t care if people find out that I’m not their sweetheart— that I’m not their sweet little angel saving the city—”

“Oh, you’re all of that for sure— you just happen to be one horny little mouse, too.” He laughs against her mouth when she moans and grinds her sex against one of his thighs like she knows how to do. Sparks of color bleed against the back of her lids as she chases the orgasm that continues to build and build and build.

He shifts his leg, giving her a better angle. There’s a gasp trying to spill out of her mouth— heat curling between her legs as she continues to rub herself almost painfully hard on the thick muscle that makes up his thigh— trying not to exhaust herself as she rubs and rubs and rubs and— “Luka? Please?”

“Are you asking me permission to come?” He says it like he doesn’t believe her, looking at her with almost an awed look to his face.

“Please,” She repeats, nodding her head hard enough for it to hurt.

“Alright,” He whispers. “You can do it. Come for me without me even touching you— go on.”

She does.

He tightens his grip on her waist and the curve of her spine as she places her forehead down on his shoulder, riding wave after wave of heat that washes over her. Her legs feel like liquid— the space between her thighs even more so. She’s completely and totally doused in a fever that almost makes it claustrophobic to stay in her suit.

“That’s it,” He kisses her ear— her temple— whatever’s closest to him on the side of her face. “Good job, Mousinette. Very good job. You did so well—”

“Luka—” She sighs, trying not to accidentally crush the charms on his necklaces with her fist as she grips them with a hand, trying to get her strength back. “Luka, I want more.”

There’s a bit of an edge to his voice, “Oh, do you? Are you unsatisfied?”

“No— not unsatisfied— I want more. I just want you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” He laughs. His voice feels like satin on her sensitive skin. “Not that watching you wasn’t good— I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit in this chair ever again without thinking of you fucking my leg. That was fucking hot, Mousey.”

“Sorry—” She doesn’t really mean it, feeling like she’s on the edge of her seat, even as her body continues to slow down and fill her with good emotions, making her feel as viscous as honey as she curls in his lap. “I’m so sorry— I just— I need— more— Luka— one isn’t enough— I need you—”

“Detransform for me so we can do exactly that, Mousey.” His eyes look dark, pupils blown wide open as he smiles. “Let me fuck you.”

She’s never nodded harder in her life. She calls off her transformation, the necklace that rests on her chest glowing before unleashing her kwami. Mullo blinks wide at the sight of the two of them in an obviously precarious position— the little mouse kwami grinning wide as the suit is done unstitching from Marinette’s body, leaving her in her clothes she wore before leaving her house, her hair falling against her ears and down her back. “You confessed? You confessed! You actually did it!”

“Lolo—” She mumbles into Luka’s collarbone, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. “Come on. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh— but— I’m so happy, Princess! I can’t believe you did it! You spent so long freaking out in your room I thought I was going to have to force a transformation on you!”

“Lolo!”

“Hi, Mullo. Sass is upstairs, I think, probably near the sails.” Luka grins, cutting Marinette off with a hand to her mouth before she can continue responding. She squeaks behind his hand— how the rings on his hands feel cold against her skin. “No doubt trying to cover his ears from the noise.”

“A sensitive one to sound, isn’t he?” Mullo winks, giggling behind her paws. “Well, well, you know what to call out if you need us! Try not to be too loud for Sass’s sake, okay?”

Luka makes her lean back from his lap when Mullo disappears through the ceiling. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She whispers back, muffled by the hand that covers her giggles.

“So. You really are the girl of my dreams and fantasies, huh?” There’s a tilt to his head as he says it, looking her over appreciatively. “Give me a second to look at you— I can’t believe I missed all the obvious signs of you being the girl I love.”

Something flatlines in her head. “D-dreams?”

“And fantasies,” He adds, shifting her in his lap with a laugh. “Come on, little mouse. You already know that. You can definitely feel it, too. I’m not lying when I said all I can think about is fucking you.”

“I— I know. I did just spend— I totally just grinded on you until I came, but I mean— it’s— it’s a little harder to believe— when I’m not—” She’s blushing, finally able to feel just how exactly stiff he is in his pants— she cuts herself off with a needy whine. “Oh, gooseberries, I’m sorry, Luka— you know I stutter a lot when I’m very shy.”

He kisses his palm over where her mouth is. “It’s okay. You’re doing okay— great, actually. There’s nothing to be shy or afraid of, Mousinette, even if you’re willingly walking into a snake’s den while being this cute.”

She giggles.

“You really do need to get out of your boat more often, Luka,” She pouts behind his hand. “You’re going to spend so much time on this boat that you’re going to end up landsick if you ever get off of it.”

His eyes drop to her shirt, a teasing look on his face. “Well, if that was your goal for tonight, I’m sorry— I have other plans involving you. You smell so good— are you wearing the perfume that I said I liked on you?”

“I might be.” An impulse buy for sure at the makeup store, but worth every single cent with the way he looks at her now. Ever since she’d worn it that first time and Luka had complimented it in passing when hauling a subwoofer the size of Rose’s full height outside to the deck of the Liberty, she’d known that she’d wear it every day of her life if it meant to get him to look at her for even a smidge longer. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did. You always smell expensive when you have it on— you went stiff as a board the first time I complimented you. I thought I broke you, and I didn’t get why Jules just kept laughing when you ran off to go help Kagami with the banner— I understand why now.” He laughs. “So, what are you wearing, then? If you went through the hassle of smelling good…”

It’s a shame he can’t see the smile she gives him, a shy and teasing quirk of her lips. “Just my pajamas.”

“Uh huh. I don’t believe you, you’ve got something up your sleeve, I know that look in your eye. Show me what you’re wearing,” He doesn’t pull his hand away from her mouth, and quirks his lips to produce yet another boyish smile when she kisses his palm. “It doesn’t look like you’re wearing anything under that shirt, little mouse.”

“I have something under it,” She mumbles under his palm, but it doesn’t come across well enough.

He takes in the wide shoulders of her shirt— how she’s absolutely swimming in the sleeves that end up at her elbows. She can tell the moment he recognizes the band shirt’s logo on her shirt— a fun and edgy screen-printed design with neon blues and neon pinks with the word kitty section below a logo— because his breath stops.

“Oh, shit—” He uses his free hand to hold her at the rib cage, pressing his thumb inwards, presumably trying to find the band of her bra that she’s potentially wearing— he almost seems to relax when his fingertips finds the wire. “Marinette, I like this.”

She preens under his words, sitting in his lap at a better angle to let him continue petting her heavily under her bust, thumbing at the wire under her breasts. “Oh. Do you really?”

“Fuck— I can’t believe this— this is such a turn-on. As if I needed to get any harder. Whose shirt is this?”

“I don’t know,” She tries to stay still in his lap to no avail when he moves his palm so that he can pet at her lips with a thumb. She melts in his touch, how each touch feels like heaven and soft. “It was one of the leftovers of the first batch we made, I’m pretty sure. I’ve kept it for years.”

“Really?”

“I like sleeping with it,” She tilts her head to the side, letting her hair fall behind her shoulder. The shirt is soft— comfortable— it’s gotten a very lived-in feel to the fabric after the long years of gentle care. She hand washes it to make sure that none of the colors chip away. “Makes me feel comfortable, thinking I’m with you. I— uhm— I—”

“Don’t hesitate, little mouse,” He smiles easy. “You’ve been doing so well already.”

“E-ever since I found it, I’ve been pretending it’s yours,” She tries not to steam red at her confession. She’s grinded on him in a closet, grinded on his leg mere minutes ago, begged for him to fuck her— and yet she still feels embarassed to admit this, too?

Well, to be fair, it is his band’s shirt. After all, what kind of a— best friend? Lover? Budding-relationship partner?— is she, if she doesn’t support his band with all their friends? Even if she didn’t have any romantic or sexual feelings for the man who continues to blink wide at the sight of her in the shirt, she’d still keep the merchandise for sentimental values. It’s one of the few originals— a homemade shirt that they had bought in a batch so that they could at least have merch to sell.

Every time they leave for a tour, now that they’re much better in terms of fame, she keeps it close to her. She nuzzles into the fabric, dreaming that it’s actually him in her arms and him in her cunt as she masturbates to the thought of him, wishing she was in his hotel room across the hall instead of hers.

His face turns pink. “Have you?”

She blinks at the way he seems to turn pinker and pinker the more he continues to look at her. Is that— is he blushing from the idea of her wearing his clothes? “Uhm— I— I mean I obviously don’t have any of your shirts for real, but, it’s nice to pretend—”

“You now have free reign of my closet whenever and wherever.” He almost twitches underneath her. “Please wear my actual shirts anytime you want, little mouse, holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. I’ll start begging if you need convincing— god.”

“Y-you don’t need to do that.” She laughs.

His smile curls dark. “You’re right. Your begging is much prettier than mine.”

She nearly jumps when his hand at the top of her shirt smoothes down her spine, teasing the hem of the shirt, making her shiver from how gentle he is. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.”

“What’s underneath?” He asks, his eyes glittering with a tease that she can read he’ll come back to her request later. “Do you want to show me?”

She nods, giving his thumb a kiss. “Maybe just a peek. I h-have something I want to do, too— i-if you’re interested?”

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

#lukanette #fragileizyfic #fragileizyoneshot #vipermouse

34 notes · View notes

raichijin · 4 years

Text

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition. ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it.

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better.

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger.

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell.

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.”

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh.

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on.

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back. ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?”

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?”

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply.

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he?

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it.

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right.

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming.

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.”

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess."

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

what the fuck is wrong with you?

who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me?

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying.

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults.

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest.

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon.

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all.

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ; @mitsusuri @okayshin @tamasoft

#mirio togata x reader #bnha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #togata mirio #mirio togata #bnha pocuties collab #mirio x you #togata x you #mirio x reader #togata x reader

184 notes · View notes

himluv · 3 years

Text

Writing Game

Tagged by @fiadhaisteach Thank you so much!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Uhhhh..... 14?! Apparently, 14. Who knew.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

... oh my god... 386,362 words.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. 123 - The Sacrament (ME:A, F!Reyder) 4. 177 - Santa Sarita: The Lost Sermons (ME:A, F!Reyder) 3. 252 - The Cost of Salvation (ME:A, F!Reyder) 2. 264 - The Fall of Santa Sarita (ME:A, F!Reyder) 1. 469 - Sanctified (ME:A, F!Reyder)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to every comment. I feel awful if I forget to respond because I know how hard it can be for some folks to even comment in the first place. And, comments mean A LOT to me, so I always want to reply and at least say thanks.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Well, Cost of Salvation was pretty damn angsty, but I also write Solavellan and have plenty of oneshots with sad AF endings. I also wrote A Gift for the Dying, a oneshot of ME3 from Thane’s perspective, and that’s uhhhh, pretty angsty.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Has to be The Charlatan and the Coinshot. They at least get together in the end and have a nice smooch.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the strangest one you’ve written?

I’ve written exactly one crossover, and that’s The Charlatan and the Coinshot. It’s an F!Reyder ME:A/Mistborn (Second Era) crossover. Which is extremely niche, but had a dedicated following. And artwork by the amazing @artsyblacksheep! So if you like Andromeda and are vaguely familiar with the Mistborn books by Brandon Sanderson, you might like it!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not on AO3. Back when I was a teen and posted on FF,net, there was much hate. I stopped writing fic for like, a decade, because of that.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes... but now I don’t know what you mean by “what kind”. Usually not too explicit, more emotions than just sex for the sake of sex.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Is that a thing people do?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone offer to translate and that led to a wonderful friendship across the continents. Eventually the work was too large for her to finish, but it was still amazing and worth it, to me.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. I think I’d be open to it, if I had a writing friend that close.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... Solavellan probably. I’m a sucker for that angst train, and the AUs are SO GOOD.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and emotion.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. It’s a mystical thing that just sort of shows up halfway through and makes the story THAT MUCH LONGER.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It’s hard and I try to be very careful and conscientious. I think if researched, proofread by native speakers, and used within the scope of character it can be done. But, I try to keep it to a minimum.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Well, Harry Potter. But that went no where. Then Chronicles of RIddick, which also dead-ended. My writing really took off with the Moonlight. That’s when I started posted oneshots and complete works, so I count it as my first *real* fandom.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Well, my favorite that’s up on AO3 is... impossible to say. I love them all and think many of them have some really great writing in them. Inevitable is very precious to me, but so is Santa Sarita. And A Gift for the Dying is a small piece that gets overlooked, but has some really strong characterization and prose in it.

But, my favorite thing that I’ve written is always the current WIP. Which, at this moment is Inevitable oneshots and a Solavellan Modern AU that is so ridiculously self-indulgent it’s embarrassing. I won’t be posting it until it’s done, because I don’t want to put any pressure on it. It’s just for me and my mental health at the moment, and it’s nice to have something that’s mine. Does that make sense?

Tagging @lonyn, @alyssalenko , @foofyschmoofer & anyone else who’d like to share.

#ME:A #santa sarita #solavellan #fanfic #mistborn #thane krios #freyder #dragon age #mass effect #my writing

8 notes · View notes

crushzone · 4 years

Note

Hello my lovely your smut is god tier💞. Could i request a cheeky threesome between ennoshita and akaashi (seeing as they are both next gen captains😘). Reader is a bit of a switch. Thank you and enjoy your day.

Blue Petals ❀ Part 1 (NSFW) -Haikyuu!!-

Character: Ennoshita Chikara x Fem!Reader x Akaashi Keiji

Summary: The pressure of bidding good bye becomes immense, as a manga artist, her editor (Akaashi), and her roommate (Ennoshita), reflects on the nature of their relationship and what they want out of it after their second to last weekly meeting at her apartment.

Word Count: 7,842

Contents: Love triangle, time skip characters, mutual pining (every character is attracted to one another), steamy make out session, slow burn.

Additional Notes:

Carla, I know you didn’t ask for all this love triangle part 1 for this fic, but I can’t help it omg. I promise you, you WILL get ALL the steamy threesome smut action in part 2 haha. 😏

It should be up sometime soon, I’ve already written it, just needs proofreading. The navigation to part 2 will appear with a clickable link when it is up. 👍🏻

Blue Petals, is drawn from my senior thesis short film title that I had to make for my Film major. However, the plot for the short had nothing to do with the one that I came up for Y/n’s manga, I simply drew the name from it.

>>> PART TWO

Please do not repost my work ✨

Characters are aged up.

Water…running through my fingers —This must be the way she felt when it skids down her bare back.

He wishes he can shape shift — to become one with this water and caress your smooth skin with his warm droplets.

Ennoshita leans against the sink, turning the faucet off as he absentmindedly shake his hands mid air, springing droplets off the tip of his digits, as if he’s loosely attempting to rid his fascination of you.

This is wrong. It’s going to complicate things. Just…Irrational.

His large hands brace the corner of your shared marbled counter, mind refusing to shut off as it rebels, sprinting a thousand miles a minute in the direction he is desperately trying avoid.

The drip from the faucet casts a constant rhythm to the, otherwise, silent apartment. He mentally curses as he brings his dampened hand to rotate the knob, droplets growing fainter as it cease.

He loves his job, he really does, and he excels at being a physical therapist. The amount of hours he’s put into acquiring this job, the efforts he put into remembering his patient’s names, and the smile he puts on to encourage them to stay strong, really pays off in the end.

However, today, every second when he was not tending to his patient, and when he was alone in the sea of hustling scrubs, his mind betrayed him; the image of you walking out of the restroom at 5 AM, this morning, in just your soaked towel. The way the droplets on your naked shoulders glisten under the faint kiss of tungsten that peaks from your bedroom, like gold dragon scales, so majestic yet delicate.

He had just tumbled out of his room, half asleep, in just boxers and black t-shirt. His eyes immediately widen when it met yours, a suppressed squeal escapes your throat, as you fumble with the top of your plushy towel.

However, that didn’t help because by hastily pulling it further up your Décolleté, only revealed your other round asset that peaks from the bottom hem.

“I’m so sorry!” You both muster in great embarrassment, as footsteps spiral down opposite ends of the corridor. When the doors slammed with a bang, Ennoshita slid to the ground with a hand over his heated face.

Oh boy.

This was not his first encounter either, from years of high school together and 2 years of being your roommate, he’s well aware of your clumsiness. But that also makes you so painfully endearing.

Now, back to the sink where he hovers, steadying his breaths as he could feel his member push the sturdy fabric of his trousers taut.

This can’t be happening right now, in a few minutes, you’re going to walk through the door and se-

Click.

His rhythmic breaths hitch when he could hear the click of the lock, and the twist of the knob.

“Chikaraaaa-kun, I’m home! I brought you your favorite pineapple pecan cake from the bakery nearby.” You bump the door open with your hip as you clumsily shuffle through the entrance, arms bracing stack of folders and a laptop. Then you shut the door with your elbow, bumping your hip against the wooden fixture as you rotate the lock.

The fear of getting caught mid-boner should’ve given him the fuel to suppress it, but oddly, it only worsens when he sees you, standing there so effortlessly beautiful and ridiculously oblivious to his fascination of you.

“Thank you, Y/n-san!” He responds, turning his head to offer you a smile while his hips remain glued to the cool sink. “I cooked us some dinner, it’s all in the fridge. I barely saw you this week, so I don’t mind waiting to eat mine after your meeting with Akaashi.”

You were already in the middle of preparing for the meeting with your manga editor, eagerly spreading your portfolios all over the dining table, and clearing any other unnecessary decorations to make room.

“That is so thoughtful, thank you so much! I appreciate ya.” You turn to him with a wide smile, ignoring the warmth that cradles your cheeks.

He makes you so happy, so very happy.

There had always been something that draws you to him, even from the first day he’d introduced himself at Karasuno.

The way his voice is as warm as a cup of hot cocoa, and his gentle eyes scan your face with the most genuine smile. He reminds you of the comfort and warmth of a sweater, a piece of homeliness you get to bring with you, even when you are somewhere unexplored and cold. He’s always had your back at times when you feel like flopping, and likewise, when you would cradle him in your embrace as he falls into quiet tears at moments when he’d undermine himself of his capabilities.

Chikara is a warm sense of familiarity, a sunrise that promises a new day, the fragrance of trustworthiness that you are incredibly drunken on. Every night when you would bid each other sweet dreams, there would always be a subtle moment of hesitation before soft footsteps saunter across the corridor to your respective rooms. When the doors shut, you always curse at the way your feet rebel, how it tear your chances to run the opposite direction and into his arms nightly.

Because he is your roommate. And that would be complicated.

A rational portion in your mind whispers, shining a lone beam of light through your fog of infatuation, as you will your gaze away from his chocolate orbs.

Your admiration for Ennoshita had far exceeded friendship, even before you’ve decided to move in together as roommates. Till this day, you wonder why you were the one to insist on rooming if you knew you had always been in love. Perhaps his homeliness made you wonder what it would be like to come back to his gentle smile after work, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to let go of your muse.

And then there’s Akaashi…If Ennoshita reminds you of the the warm sun, Akaashi is the calmness of the ocean. The cooling sea breeze that kisses your skin with a gentle mist from dancing tides.

At the thought of him, a series of gentle knocks on the door snaps the tension from the air as you scurry to open it.

Meanwhile, Ennoshita remains by the counter, mentally crafting an escape as the thought of seeing Akaashi’s cooling eyes would only worsen his predicament. Using his quick wit, he takes advantage of the commotion to spring himself from the counter, speed-walking across the dining room, then up the stairs.

“I’ll leave you guys to it!” He says cheerily, when he’s already halfway up.

Akaashi had just stepped in and is removing his shoes as you close the door. “Oh, okay! I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“You don’t have to lea-“ He begins, but is cut short when Ennoshita quickly waves at him.

“Hi Akaashi-san, please make yourself at home.” He says, before immediately disappearing behind his bedroom door.

Had our weekly meetings been inconvenient for him this whole time? If so, maybe the next should be held elsewhere. Akaashi wonders, a little concerned at his strange behavior as he absentmindedly readjusts the small paper bag on his wrist.

“Is he okay?”

“I think so?” But truthfully, you’re not convinced that he is. “He probably just wanted some time alone.” You revise, walking him to the dining table.

“Oh, I brought you and Ennoshita-san some Yaki Tomorokoshi by the way.” He waves the bag gently, its cotton strings left the faintest mark on his slim wrist.

“Akaashi-kun! You really didn’t have to.” You can’t help but smile, grateful that the people in your life had been so kind and thoughtful. “If you’re up for it, maybe we can all watch a movie later so we can enjoy the dinner that Ennoshita-kun cooked, your Yaki Tomorokoshi, and the pineapple pecan cake I bought!”

A soft smile graces his lips as his hooded eyes linger on the wooden ground, a little too shy to meet yours. “That would be nice.”

And you beam at his response, finding warmth radiate your heart as your scalp tingles, nearly exploding at how precious you thought his little smile was.

What started off as a distraction from Ennoshita, only worsened when you and Akaashi grew closer through your line of work. He was there with you from the first chapter of your manga, where you’d meet up weekly to discuss revisions. Your meetings usually take place at restaurants, and you find yourself lingering after, ordering some extra sake and Daifuku as you spend the final hours of the night, chatting

He seats himself in his usual spot across from you, and you do the same after you’ve placed his grilled corn in the fridge, next to your dessert and Ennoshita’s cooking.

His quiet demeanor, professionalism, and calculating eyes were intimidating. but they gradually grow on you overtime, when you learn that he is just as shy as you are, and is also prone to occasional clumsiness as well. It’s really endearing.

One day, as you two were waiting for your checks to return, he’d asked about your manga’s source of inspiration, reasoning that he’d also been in search for his own, so he can write his short novel.

So with some hesitance, you described Ennoshita to him, without the mention of his name, and it got him very fascinated.

“Is this person, who inspired your protagonist, around? I’d love to meet him one day.”

It felt strange, describing your deep-rooted fondness for your crush to the other, but you also felt embraced, both by the thought of Chikara and by Akaashi’s undivided attention for you.

“He is, he’s actually my roommate.” You responded, nervously, taking a sip of your warm water as you try to drown the sudden flutter of nervousness with it.

His brow raised slightly, as he leaned on his palm, never dropping the gentle smile that adorned his soft looking lips.

“I’d love to meet him one day. What’s his name?”

“Ennoshita. Ennoshita Chikara.” Your eyes brightened at the mention of your friend’s name, forgetting for a second that you were talking to Akaashi. But when you linked your gaze to his dusty green orbs, your brows quirked when you realized his smile had widened.

“Oh. I know him.”

Since that day, you began offering your apartment for meetings, and it’s been that way for over two years now. Initially, Ennoshita would lock himself in his room to give you and Akaashi some privacy, but when you both assure that his company is welcomed; after all this is his apartment too, he eased up and fell into the routine of reading a book on the couch, while you work quietly at the dining table behind it.

However, you notice he had been distant lately, and you wonder if it had to do with you spending more time with Akaashi.

Ennoshita is on his bed, head spinning in a cocktail of thoughts. His fingers lightly graze the expanse of his exposed abs as he sighs, pulling his shirt back down and firmly lacing his hands over it.

That was a close one.

He’s lost track of time, it felt like hours since he’d locked himself in his room, taking steady breaths as he slowly glided his fingers over his sensitive skin, a desperate simulation of skin ship, to slowly suppress the urge of pleasuring himself to the thought of you and Akaashi. It was a rough battle as his mind constantly alternates between what it must feel like to plant gentle kisses to your soft skin, then to his calloused hands firmly running across the terrain of Akaashi’s sculpted body. Both souls so beautiful, yet so different in physique.

But what he yearns is beyond physical, he’s known you like the back of his hand, and your presence comforts him. You are like flowers in spring, the sweet smell of honey nectar, and your smile is the reason cloud dances to the wind under the warm presence of the tangerine sun.

He smiles in admiration of your diligence, when he would walk out of his room for water, in the middle of the night, to see you curled up by the dining table, your blue mechanical pencil in hand as you scribbled away at your manga panels. The paper lantern above you casted a cocoon of soft light that protected you from the darkness, and for a moment, it felt like he was watching you under the inky sea, and you are a mythical creature that emitted light.

He truly misses his days in Karasuno, when you would meet him after his practice to bounce story ideas for your manga, underneath the sunset’s performance, sitting side by side on the roof of an academic building.

“Oh!! Maybe Imogen and Habiki grew up in a rural area together, Habiki’s parents run a bakery shop while Imogen’s family owns an alteration store.” You say, waving your voice recorder in excitement, making sure it’s still going.

“I like that! Maybe there’s something special about this rural area. A noteworthy wonder that Habiki would instantly be reminded of when Imogen writes him letters while he is in war.” Ennoshita added, leaning back on his hands as he looked up to the sky in thought.

Screenwriting and storytelling had always interested him, and brainstorming with you inspired him to make his own films one day, maybe after your manga is done, so you can keep staring at the sun while daydreaming together.

You mimicked his stance, but instead of looking to the sky, your gaze shifted to him with a content smile. He is so beautiful: his gentle gaze unwavering as his mellow orbs embraced the splashes of pinkish hue in its glimmer, and the small smile that grazed his lips are kissed by the reflection of the fiery sky. For once, you wished you could turn into the sun, just so you can envelope his smooth skin with your warmth.

Then you were struck with an idea.

“What if…” You began, “What if there are these blue flowers that could only be grown in that area, and Imogen would always harvest and send pressed blue flowers to Habiki. He would then decorate his journal with it, sometimes even using it as a bookmark until it no longer hold its shape. It would remind him of the times when he would sit next to her, after work at his parent’s bakery, in the middle of the blue flower field, just watching sunset draw its curtains. ”

He spent a moment, allowing your imagination to sink in. Sometimes he wishes he could be your Habiki and you could be his Imogen.

You felt warmth blossom your cheeks, unsure if that was from the sun or if it was from embarrassment that you may have potentially given away the fact that Ennoshita had been your inspiration for Habiki all along.

“I like that a lot. Have you ever thought about how you’re going to end your manga? A striking image that summarizes Habiki’s long journey through war and the struggles he went through to try to find his way back home?”

Then your gaze faltered from the sky, as you looked down to your dirty shoes, subsequently tucking your chin between the basin of your knees. “No…I don’t know. All this time, I may have just been day dreaming. I don’t know if I have the talent to-“

“Y/n-san…” His tone grew serious, drawing your eyes to meet his. “There was never a moment when I’ve doubted your talent, and you shouldn’t either. I know this is something you’ve always wanted to do; to make your manga, and if it is truly what you want, I genuinely think you should pursue it.” He reached over to place a firm hand on your shoulder. “And I know starting something from scratch can be scary, but I am here for you.”

“What if no one even bothers to read it?” You sighed, turning away with a frown.

“Then I’m going to buy all 10, no 100, more like 1,000 copies of your manga and read it over and over again.” He chuckled warmheartedly. A strange flutter in your gut, slowly ascended your body at his laugh. “So what if it is a fail, you poured your heart into it, and in the end, you can come out of it knowing that you gave it your best. As long as you never give up and stick with it, even when it feels like the world is against you, is a success in its own.”

Your lips transformed into the largest smile, brows twitching in an attempt to hold back happy tears. He studied you, gaze darting between your lips and glassy eyes, breath hitched as he lost control of his body, slowly leaning towards your awaiting lips. You find yourself doing the same, your beating heart screamed to be free, to follow its will.

However…

“Chikara-kun.” You breathed, verbally forcing yourself to stop, and he did the same. “If we ever end up in the same area after university…will you be my roommate?”

He sat back up, and after a moment, he blinked away his rejection as he lifted his gaze from the concrete floor to your nervous expression with a soft smile. “Of course.”

And just like that, the sun had fully set, raven wings consumed any remaining sprinkle of flames and embers from the sky.

Does she still have the voice recording from that day? Did his facade falter when he said yes to being your roommate? If only he could have some of that audio to relive his memory with.

Like a torch that had been passed on, you no longer come to him for ideas on your manga as often as you did, instead, you would do so with Akaashi. He’s not upset, but simply nostalgic for those special moments he had with you, if anything, he’s more than happy you’ve come this far. Your manga had been selling prolifically with the help of your publisher, and is now a chapter away from being complete.

This meeting that you are having with Akaashi would probably be one of the last few chances he’d get to see him.

He chuckles under his breath, what a small world.

Though he’s never been very close with Fukurodani’s setter, he’s well aware of his existence since training camp at Saitama. The way he was able to maintain his calm demeanor, regardless of how emotional his best friend, Bokuto may be, is very noteworthy. He’d sneak glances at him during lunch and every time they walked by one another in the dorm hallway or during their tournaments, their eyes would automatically lock, followed by a small nod; a silent gesture of acknowledgement, mutual respect, and…admiration?

There’s something irresistibly charming about Akaashi that he could not put a finger on, and it doesn’t help that he only got to view him from a distance.

He’d hooked up with a few women during his time in university, especially on nights when he’s desperately touch starved for you, but he never thought he’d be into men. When he’d met Akaashi, perspective widened, gender and preferences are no longer black and white, as it became fluid, like a string of yarn, dancing care freely in the wind. His charm is beyond gender, it is his own.

However, he’d never thought too much about it because the opportunity to grow closer were slim, training being hectic and all. Until recently, when you would bring him here for weekly meetings.

What started with small glances when he’d enter and politely remove his shoes, perfectly lining it in parallel to the edge of the mud carpet, to the way he looks at you in fascination, leaning on his palm with a soft smile as you ramble vibrantly about your narrative ideas.

He’s not upset, not one bit, if anything, it’s comforting to know someone finds you as special as he does. Someone who could care for you when he couldn’t be there right away. It’s a confusing mix of attraction: your familiar comfort and warmth, like freshly done laundry, so warm and comfy to lay on, versus his exciting, serene, and unexplored presence, like the sweet smell of petrichor as he bikes by a rice field after it’d rained; both equally as attractive and inviting.

Then his phone lights up beside him, intervening his train of thought.

Y/n ☀️ [20:28]

We’re all good!! Ready for din din whenever you are 🐷

He chuckles softly at the endearing way you text.

Chikara [20:28]

Be out in a sec! :)

Then he sets his phone down, takes a deep breath, and palms his bulging member. Quickly realizing:

I guess I’m going to need more than a second…

You shut your folder with a sigh, drawing both knees to your chest, and leaning it against the table, clearly comfortable under his presence to allow your antics to slip. “Thanks again, for coming over, Akaashi. I can’t believe we’re a meeting away from ending this manga, where’d the time go.”

He nods, discreetly fiddling his fingers under the desk while maintaining a calm expression.

“Yeah.” It was all he could say, fearful that his calm facade may slip.

What now, is this it? Should he say farewell next time? Or should he treat it like other meetings, with the excitement to see each other again. Are we more than just acquaintances? Would it be strange if he asks you and Ennoshita to spend more time with him outside work?

Frankly, this had been a reality he never wanted to accept; that the next meeting will potentially be the last time he’ll get to work with you. The industry is so fast moving, he already has another job lined up for the next manga he’ll be editing, and it will be over 50 volumes long, which meant that even if you were to come up with another, he might not even be available for it.

For a moment, the apartment is unusually still, a stark contrast to the lively meeting that had just ended. Silence weighs heavily, but you allow it to sink, too bummed to fight it off. So you’re surprised when Akaashi attempts to dissipate it.

“Have you thought about the ending?”

Your brows furrow, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat, thinking back to the boy who began it all, under the warm presence of the setting sun. “Maybe, I have some ideas…”

You hate being nostalgic, but you realize you no longer designate a time to brainstorm and chat with Chikara, sadly wondering if he’s bothered by it; having Akaashi swoop in and take that away from him. No…he’s always been someone who’d go out of his way to help a stranger without expecting anything in return, he’s probably happy that you’ve come as far as you had.

“That’s okay.” Lifting your chin to the sound of his voice, soaring conflict in your mind calms to the sight of his timid smile. “You have some time, hopefully you’ll find something that really inspire your ending. Whatever it is, you have an amazing sense of judgement and I am sure it will be absolutely stunning.” His fiddling worsens, as he hope he had not come off too strong; he just wanted to express his believe in you.

And just like that, his comforting tide washes over your heated shore, soothing the stretch of searing rocks with its cool rhythmic ascension, like the rise and fall of a chest. Your furrowed brows relax and the lump in your throat dissolves, you feel fluid, like fine sand that slips through your fingers and on to bare feet in shy splatters.

With a smile, you respond with a nod. “Thank you, Akaashi.”

Standing up suddenly, before silence could re-materialize, you saunter to the kitchen, turning over your shoulder to smile at his confused expression. “I’m going to start heating up our food, Ennoshita-kun should be out anytime soon.”

He stands and follows you, socked footsteps barely making any sound on the wooden floor as he walks. “I can help.” You hum happily in response as you hand him one of the food containers to heat up.

Punching in the digits to your microwave, he leans against the counter as he watches you rummage through the fridge, occasionally rising to set containers on the marbled surface before kneeling back down to grab more.

Weekly meetings with you had meant so much more to him than he had anticipated, it was the first time he’d ever allowed editing sessions to be as untraditional as it had been; usually only keeping it to offices or restaurants, never at residences. However, your passion and genuine personality made it so easy for him to come out of his shell and converse more openly.

Every night when he’d return home from seeing you, he’d spend countless hours by the balcony, looking to the sparkling stars that scatter the sky like freckles, serenaded by wandering crickets and shy fireflies, with a notebook in hand. He lists the wonderful things he’d noticed about you and Ennoshita, and scribble short poems that he is a little too embarrassed to admit it is one. But just like your passion for drawing and Ennoshita’s interests in making short films in his spare time, writing is his way of encapsulating memory, to tell his own story.

Truthfully, he’s always wanted to work for a literature publication, but he can’t thank fate enough for introducing you and Ennoshita to him through this current job. His passion for literature had been adamant since he was in his adolescence, constantly blabbering attempted eloquence to his parents. As he’s gotten older, a small tree of fear roots his heart, afraid he would never find inspiration to write.

Until recently, that fear had subsided, as he would return from your meeting with a smile, eager to glide his fountain pen on the clean, stark pages of his dark blue leather journal, a present from you on his 24th birthday.

Once all the food had been heated and brought out to the coffee table in front of your small couch, Ennoshita finally emerges from his bedroom in a pair of grey sweatpants. “Sorry I took a while!” He smiles apologetically as he descends the stairs.

“No worries!! Dinner looks amazing, thank you for making it!” You respond, miming a chef kiss gesture at the food in front of you with a bright smile.

Ennoshita stops mid step, brows raised at your sudden burst of energy, slowly settling on a wide smile that gleams through his half lidded eyes. “Of course, Y/n-san. I hope there’s enough for the three of us.”

“I know I’m an unexpected addition, but thank you for letting me have some of your delicious cooking.” Akaashi’s eyes meet Ennoshita’s warm ones for a second, before it falters to the ground. His cheeks warm, and his expression may appear calm, but his fiddling fingers say otherwise.

Ennoshita’s eyes widen, suddenly feeling the urge to explode from the warmth that surfaces his subtly puffed chest. “I’m…I’m happy you enjoy them”.

“Akaashi-kun also brought some Yaki Tomorokoshi, so I think between your food, that, and my cake, we should be pretty good.” You add, hopping on to the center of the couch and bringing your knees to rest against your chest as you look to them, a remote in hand. “Would you be down for The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook?” (This movie is so good omg, HIGHLY recommend watching it.)

They nod simultaneously, feeling the sofa dip significantly as they wordlessly join you on the couch, Ennoshita to your left and and Akaashi to your right. You giggle at how huge the two of them are in contrast to the tiny loveseat, turning around to unfold the fleece blanket and casting it over the three of you like a bird spreading its wings.

“We’re going to get food on the blanket!” Ennoshita jokes, folding the soft material so it only covers his back. You laugh, knowing full well that he would say that, but you did it anyway.

Meanwhile, Akaashi bundles the front of his blanket around him like a half burrito, silently reaching over for his Yaki Tomorokoshi, and holding it with both hands as he eats, eyes watching you and Ennoshita comfortably: This feels like home, under both your warm presence, and he cannot express his gratitude to finally meet someone that makes him so content.

Halfway through the movie, with all your empty dishes in the sink, the three of you are bundled under the same plushy blanket as the plot grows darker and darker with twists you’d never expect. You can’t help but dig your curled toes a little deeper into the cushion, while Ennoshita shifts toward the edge of his seat, as Akaashi leans further back, head resting against the back cushion. Three set of eyes, trained firmly to the illuminating screen with great intensity.

Then out of nowhere, you are hit with one of the hottest and most beautifully shot sex scenes you’ve ever seen. (Yea, like damn, it got me feeling things when I watched it 👀 If you’ve seen this movie, you know what I’m talking about.) Suddenly, the pressure to stop your eyes from diverging off screen becomes paramount, the three of you scramble to shackle your imagination before it scurries off to other lewd fantasies that extend beyond the movie.

Umm…is this where you joke about it to elevate the awkwardness? But dammit, the scene was too well done, you can’t think of anything silly to say.

You all visibly stiffen, suddenly hyper aware of the way your outer legs and shoulders touch, feeling your respective cores heat and breath hitch at the attempt to steady it. The couch suddenly feels like a bubble, frustratingly suffocating, as it confines the three of you in this tight predicament. But when you try to make yourself smaller, so your bodies are not in contact, your hands accidentally brush theirs, and you could not have pulled them away any faster than you had, mentally cursing at the way electricity courses through your skin like wildfire.

The little hand grazing accident heightened the tension, as Akaashi is no longer able to keep his quirk in check, instantly bringing clammy fingers to fiddle on his lap. Distracted by his movement, you were unaware of Ennoshita’s glance, quickly shifting back to the screen when you turn to him. Gosh, how he wishes he could at least give you a small kiss on your warm cheeks.

Gulping at how the sofa on-screen closely mimics the color of the one you are seated on, you will yourself from overthinking; it’s fine, your activities on it are as different as night and day. Totally fine…Puffing your cheeks like a goldfish, you exhale steadily, but the sound did not go unnoticed by two pair of glimpsing eyes.

In the movie, two characters kneel before one another, intoxicated in their share of yearning kisses for any care in the world. This short sequence drags on because the sexual tension in the air is as dense as hardened concrete.

Here’s the scene from the movie. I censored it out for u LOL.

You wonder…wonder how it would feel to draw them to your lips…Would they resist? Or would it shatter all this tension and bring forth clarity to the complication of your friendship. No…you shouldn’t be thinking these things, it’s wrong, so wrong, and your friendship is as clear as day…right?

But then you realize you may not be the only one with this curiosity.

If your friendship were purely platonic…what’s with the sexual tension?

The two men shift, playing it out as if they were stretching their sore muscles from poor posture, but it was actually a desperate attempt to subtly readjust their growing erections. You noticed, you totally did, and decides to take this opportunity to cross your legs tightly, relying on the soft blanket to shield your flexed inner thighs, sinfully enjoying the friction your denim offers with its thick seams.

Ennoshita’s and Akaashi’s mind are whirling as they try to come up with a solution to the potentiality of you noticing their growing members, thinking of different excuses, only to resurface with none.

Ennoshita debates if an excuse to the restroom would seem too obvious that he’s ridiculously turned on, while Akaashi wonders what Bokuto would do in this situation, since he’s always so up front and unabashed about most things. Then, by sheer accident, their eyes meet, cheeks instantly erupt in flames as they turn away non-subtly.

Is Akaashi also sporting an erection? Ennoshita wonders.

Is Ennoshita…really turned on by this too? Akaashi questions.

Meanwhile, you glance between the two, hand slowly creeping between your legs, pushing a little further into your throbbing crotch as awkwardness transform to heat.

Have you been misreading their signs? Had you been in their way this whole time? But you weren’t upset either, because the image of them, completely nude, in each other’s embrace, kneeling on the couch as their sculpted bodies merge under the soft glow of tungsten, back dimples kissed by the watchful moon, is unbearably, and ridiculously arousing.

You’re turned on by their flustered attempts at subduing their body’s natural response for sex, thankful your anatomy is not as outwardly obvious during arousal. Such gentlemen, refusing to acknowledge their mutual sexual desires.

A sudden craving for physical contact manifests as your eyes train to the television with a degree of intensity. But how should you approach this, and with who?

This is it, don’t think too hard. But were you really the one operating your thoughts? Or was it simply your mind being weary of your hesitance.

It didn’t matter, because your body had decided, hands snaking timidly outward, like a chick, spreading its wings for the first time. The stakes are so high, but you are already in the act, there’s no turning back. When your delicate fingers brush the back of their hands under the blanket, they jump at the sudden sensation of your tenderness, clearly aware that it is not a coincidence this time.

They turn to you simultaneously, lips agape and eyes widened in surprise, but you simply look between them with great curiosity, eyes so round and unintentionally coy, like a fawn meeting its pals for the first time, attempting to study their thoughts when you hesitantly hold them firmly, soft hands curling against their large palms, no longer calloused from the lack of volleyball practice.

Your lips open and shut before you stop it all together with your teeth, chewing nervously. So effortlessly alluring, like bright red rose petals, sinking and reemerging from clear water, so teasing and erratic, you just want to scoop it tenderly with both hands and draw it to your lips to still its motion. Their dark eyes are on you with a gulp, as you try to form words, but the only thing that escapes are short breathes; a cross between a sigh and desperate gasps, dying to hear some sort of response from either or them, feeling so stranded by your boldness.

And your thoughts are heard, when you feel both their large palms tighten around yours: Ennoshita’s a little clammy while Akaashi’s is shaky, but they relax you nevertheless.

“Y/n-san.”

Ennoshita breathes, cheeks incredibly warm as he mentally curses his tongue for slipping your name a little too soon. Then without a word, like the day when he was simply an eager boy trying to kiss you, he leans forward, soft eyes slowly flutter shut with every distance he crosses, relieved to see that you are also doing the same, and when you meet him in the middle, it’s as if your life had been on pause, finally discovering the courage to resume.

He smiles gently, bathing in immense satisfaction when your soft lips finally meets his plush ones in a featherlike kiss. Pressure taps at his hooded lids, tempted to burst in tears as he feels so relieved, so freaking happy to claim your lips. The kiss was so soft, like the legs of dancing butterflies, his broad chest rumbles in a low chuckle at the ticklish sensation that lingers on his smile, bringing his other hand to caress the side of your warm cheeks lovingly. He’s found closure, no longer able to imagine himself thinking back in “what ifs” to that moment, as he interlaces his long fingers with yours.

You pull apart, still drunken in disbelief that this is the same boy you went to high school with, the boy who sparked your career and had always been there for you. Then you’re suddenly overwhelmed by how much he’d grown into a man; jaws much sharper and features more defined, but the soft smiles he share with you had never changed, and that is how you know he’s still the same person you’ve fallen in love with from the very beginning.

He IS your Habiki.

But you snap back to reality when Akaashi’s palm loosens, a second away from slipping through your fingers, like a petal that had been whisked by the wind. Instead, you interlace his finger with yours, turning to look into his eyes intently. He’s caught of guard by your overwhelming attention, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow his thickened saliva from hoarding nervous breathes, heart banging frantically at the bursting blood and vessels that surrounds it.

Did he offend you? Should he leave? Her and Ennoshita are clearly meant to b-

Heat blooms in his cheeks, when you draw the back of his hand to your tender lips for permission, shattering his fragile facade as warmth flows out of his open heart like an erupted volcano, melting his entire being as he is tempted to sink further into your couch. However, his spine refuses to curl as it keeps him erect, helpless to its command like a marionette.

Should he kiss you? Is that what he wants? Or is he misreading your si-

His eyes were blank, as he never registered your face growing closer, and by the time he’d return to the present, he could feel your soft minty breath against his pointy nose, your long lashes cast a shadow over your vibrant eyes, robbing it of any glint as you look to his lips, then back up to his dilating pupils. His thoughts are cut short again when your lips brush his, testing the waves before fully submerging in his cool stretch of seawater, your lips are warm, in comparison to his cool ones, but the juxtaposition in temperature is stimulating.

You pull back a little, staring at his flustered expression that grew hungrier the longer he stares right back, you’ve stirred a tide that’s ready to draw you back with its beckoning dance. Then you’re back at it, harder this time, too drunken for each other’s magnetism to recall who was the first person to lean, as you bring the back of your entwined hand to brush at the area next to his fluttering lashes, so thick and alluring like fine owl feathers. Ennoshita watches you in fascination, thumb grazing the top of your hand; a gesture to remind you of his warm presence.

When you pull apart for breathes, Akaashi felt a surge of confidence as he sits up, green eyes drawing in Ennoshita’s brown ones, as he return his look with a blush, bringing his free hand to nervously rub away the warm tingles at his nape. Akaashi’s eyes falter timidly for a moment, before it returns with greater intensity.

No, he can’t back down, he needs to get this out in the open now.

“Ennoshita-kun…”

His eyes may appear calm, but his voice was merely a whisper that’s been thrusted into the silent atmosphere of the room, barely making it over soft mumbles from the movie that’s been long forgotten. He suddenly feels so small, like a lost kitten wailing for help, but he knows the tension had been slowly melting, and the only way to surpass this fully is by also taking initiative.

“May I kiss you too?” He asks, frankly unsure of how to initiate a kiss with someone that is not seated right beside him.

Both yours and Ennoshita’s eyes widen momentarily at his straightforwardness, before it curls into a small chuckle, finding his shyness endearing; seems like his calm demeanor was a defense mechanism to his awkwardness after all. 🥺

Was that too bold?

He was initially a little embarrassed, but is also relieved the tension in the room is close to gone.

Ennoshita brings his free hand to caress his cheek, gently drawing him over you and towards him with a smile. “I would love that, Akaashi-kun.”

And with his reassurance, they lean to one another in perfect synchronization, flushed lips colliding like the sun’s reunion with the horizon, their passion drizzling onto the water’s rippling surface in bursts of tangerines and scarlets. Someone who they thought were unattainable, no longer a reality as they hold each other firmly, hands coming up to entwine next to their moving heads, lips falling into a rhythm, as their defined jaws dance to their passion.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as your core clenches in arousal at the sight of both your crushes, sharing an intimate moment right in front of you. It is like the fantasy you’ve recently envisioned as you were watching the movie, but this is even better than what the expanse of your mind is capable of picturing. What started as separate admiration, turns out even better when you see that they had also been struggling with the concept of mutual crushing.

They pull apart, but not fully, Akaashi gently tilts his head to lovingly brush the tip of his nose against Ennoshita’s lips, still too enchanted by his warmth to leave. Ennoshita’s heart flutters at his coy gesture, inhaling shakily when Akaashi looks up to his orbs, incredibly fascinated by the way his pupils dilate, consuming steel green rings like a beating heart. Then they simultaneously turn, catching you in the act of lingering gaze as you imprint the beauty of their attraction in mind, wishing that you had your drawing pad to capture this moment on paper.

“Y/n-san…” Akaashi begins, gaze shifting sideways as he scrambles to string words that describe his feelings, however, his own understanding was never fully apparent to begin. To his relief, Ennoshita glances at him before looking back at you, finishing his sentence.

“I like you a lot, Y/n-san. I’ve always had, since Karasuno. I regret not kissing you the week before graduation…but now that I get to be here with you, as someone more than just your roommate, I want to make it clear that I’ve always liked you.” Then he turns to Akaashi.

“Akaashi-kun….I enjoy all the times you’ve spent with us, I may not know you as well as y/n does, but I’ve always been drawn to you since training camp. I like you, and I’d love to get to know you better, no longer from a distance, but right here with you.”

He looks down to your entwined fingers, arms forming a circle, this is the moment he’d always dreamt of. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen after…but I want this kiss to be a start of something, a new beginning to our relationship…if it’s what you want.”

You melt at his genuineness…He always says the right words at the right time, a great trait of a leader, and that is why you never doubted his ability as the team captain after Daichi had graduated. He can hold your hands through the wildest thunderstorm, and you’d feel like he could protect you from the inevitable temperament of nature.

“I like you a lot too, Chikara. I always had.”

“I like you too, Ennoshita-kun” Akaashi responds, eyes widening slightly when he realizes he may have accidentally cut you off, but when he turns to look at you apologetically, you just laugh it of, visibly relaxing his shoulders to the sound of your voice.

Then like a synchronized flock of starlings, you and Akaashi place gentle kisses on Ennoshita’s cheeks, eyeing each other for his consent, before slowly trailing down his defined jaws then to his long neck, now with confessions out of the way, you’re craving something more physical. He resists the urge to scrunch his shoulders, both your breaths tickling him at once, instead, he tilts his chin with shuddery breathes, allowing more room for you to explore; sensation so overwhelming but this is only just the beginning.

“I’ve never been good with words.” You breath coyly, stopping in between kisses to nibble at the bottom of his earlobe where the vertical meets horizontal, earning yourself a gasp as his body tingles. “But let me show you how much I’ve always wanted you, Chikara-kun.” He shivers at the way your voice grow softer, slowly turning to air by the time you say his name; it reminds him of the goosebumps he’d get when wind howls between the cracks of his window, a lullaby so quiet but enchanting.

Instead of responding verbally, his eyes roll to the ceiling before it flutters his shut, exhaling soft shudders as he slowly leans back on the arm rest with the guide of your hand. Meanwhile, Akaashi remains silent, but his gestures speak the opposite; he wants to express the same message through his undivided attention and touches.

Neither of you expected this moment to escalate the way it did, perhaps it was the lingering sexual tension that hung freely for years, or it may be the movie that reminded you of how touch starved you all had been, but whatever brought you here, had happened for a reason.

Because this moment, right here, right now, is where you belong.

Kisses turn to touches, and touches turns to labored breathes when Ennoshita pulls back from his heated kiss with Akaashi, wet lips looking a little bruised from passion, as Akaashi’s eyes are still heavily lidded, gaze glued on his parted lips like it’s an addiction.

Meanwhile, you trail soft kisses down Ennoshita’s neck, lingering momentarily on his bobbing Adams apple, while your other hand slowly finds its way to his crotch.

“Do you want to go to my room?”

He asks between labored breathes, nodding towards the corridor you spent years denying each other’s attraction, feeling your teasing fingers edge dangerously closer to his throbbing member, painfully pressed against the confines of his sweat pants.

>>> PART TWO

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life @scorpiosanssexy @tedwardos

136 notes · View notes