#I love this terrible little man I want to study him like a bug | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenshelby · 11 months

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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART SEVEN: THE SHINING��

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Fluff

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

An hour later

Needless to say, it did not take Cillian long to convince you to stay and, even though you were a little nervous about it, you felt somewhat excited about spending the night with him, albeit in different bedrooms.

Cillian, on the other hand, seemed to be a little more content and calm than you about the situation and knew that, realistically, you lacked other suitable options.

You had nowhere else to go and, if you were to go back to your own apartment, you would have run the risk of James turning up there unannounced. You knew that he was dangerous and that, alone, gave you enough reason to spend the evening elsewhere, with a person you could trust.

In so far as the situation with James was concerned, over a period of an hour, Cillian also convinced you to go to the police and you had promised him to do exactly that on the following day, right after class.

It was a promise you knew Cillian would hold you to and you had no desire to beach his trust. You, too, knew that this was the most sensible option for you and you did not want to risk another bruised cheek or two if you failed to take this seriously.

After convincing you to go to the police, Cillian then ordered some pizza before jumping into the shower as well and settling down on the couch with you in order to watch a movie.

As expected, he kept his distance from you and, despite the fact that he did, you were still close enough to stare at him and his somewhat strange looking pyjamas.

His pyjamas comprised a t-shirt featuring bugs bunny and a pair of matching grey boxer shorts which appeared to be too short even for a man of his height.

“My son bought them for me for Christmas” Cillian ought to clarify and you smiled.

“I like them. They look pretty cool, especially with the big carrot covering your crotch. It’s quite something” you teased, causing Cillian to laugh.

“Well, yeah…bugs bunny and his big carrot…what can I say…” Cillian joked and you both broke out in laughter just before your eyes caught on his legs which, too, were exposed.

They were masculine and strong, probably because of all the running you knew he was doing every day before school and, for some reason, seeing him like this. aroused you.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Cillian then eventually asked as if he was trying to divert your look from his legs to the TV screen.

“Yeah, a movie sounds good. What do you want to watch?” you asked with blushing cheeks. You could tell that he was noticing the way you had been looking at him and, clearly, that made him somewhat uncomfortable now.

“I don’t know. What sort of genres do you like?” Cillian asked before reaching into the coffee table draw to retrieve a large blanket which, in the end, he used to cover his legs.

“Honestly? I love scary movies” you told him as you watched him hide his legs from your gaze.

“Scary how?” Cillian asked. “Like ‘The Shining’ scary or ‘gory scary’?” he then wanted to know and you did not quite understand what he was talking about.

“What’s the Shining?” you wanted to know and his chin immediately dropped.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Have you never seen ‘The Shining’?” he was surprised and you reluctantly shook your head and stammered out a quiet “no”.

“You are almost thirty, studying to become an actress, and never watched ‘the Shining’…unbelievable…” Cillian then teased and you felt as though you should correct him. You had still not told him about your true age and felt rather guilty about it.

“Actually, I am…” you began to say, wanting to tell him that you were almost eight years younger than he thought but then you changed your mind. “Never mind” you thus said, backing out of what you were going to say for fear of being rejected by him. “I may have seen it. I am terrible at remembering the names of movies though” you then said and Cillian took this as an opportunity to introduce you to cult classic.

“Hmm. Okay. How about we watch it then and see whether you can remember it? I haven’t seen thus movie in over ten years and it is pretty good” Cillian thus told you and you agreed.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s watch it” you said before asking a an all-important question. “Do you have popcorn?” you wanted to know and Cillian immediately furrowed his eyebrows.

“Really? Popcorn?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. I love popcorn” you admitted.

“I should do. The kids eat it all the time” Cillian then informed you before giving you a lecture about the suitability of popcorn while watching scary or intense movies.

In the end, however, he gave in to your demands and you both settled on the sofa again with some snacks.

***

About an hour into the movie, Cillian reached over from some popcorn and you swatted his hand away playfully.

“You said you don’t eat popcorn when watching movies like this” you teased before you popped another piece into your mouth.

“I did say that, but I am hungry” Cillian chuckled and you voluntarily handed him the bowl and laughed.

“You didn’t eat much pizza, so I am not really surprised” you giggled before realising that, just minutes ago, Cillian had opened another bottle of wine as well but then inadvertently left it on the kitchen bench.

Looking at your empty glasses, you hopped off the couch and walked towards the kitchen in order to retrieve it.

“I paused the movie” Cillian then yelled out while you padded back to the living room barefooted with his oversized t-shirt barely covering your swaying hips. Earlier that evening, Cillian had given you some of his shorts but they were too big for you and kept on rolling down, so you decided to take them off and put on your panties instead, leaving you in nothing but cotton underwear and his black t-shirt.

“Thanks. I wouldn’t want to miss anything as I am really enjoying this movie so far” you said before placing the wine bottle on the coffee table in front of him and, just after you did, Cillian poured you each some more wine into your empty glasses.

He then settled back against the back of the sofa with a glass in his hand and, just after he did, you picked up the blanket which he had, by now, pushed to the floor. But, instead of settling on the far side of the couch again, you settled down in the middle, right next to Cillian.

“It’s freezing, isn’t it?” you then said before covering both of your laps with the blanket while settling back against Cillian comfortably, not delicately or carefully by any means.

“Yeah” Cillian said, swallowing harshly. He was not expecting you to come so close to him.

“Shit. I am sorry” you then said as you realised yourself that you had leaned back against him which, after a few glasses of wine, came naturally to you.

“It’s fine. You can lean against me if you are comfortable like that…I am cool with it…” Cillian stammered in response before looking back at the movie, trying not to think of your body pressing against his.

“Oh, okay. I was comfortable, so yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind” you told him before leaning back again although, by now, Cillian’s arm felt as though it was in the way.

“Or maybe not. Your arm is in the way now. Can you move it?” you giggled and Cillian awkwardly lifted it up and then settled it around you while trying not to touch your body.

“Better?” he then asked and you responded with a quiet “yes” before you pulled his arm closer to get more comfortable.

“Y/N, I think that…maybe…” Cillian began to say just as you snuggled in, bringing the blanket with you, but just as he spoke, he realised that you were completely focused on the movie again now.

“This is intense. She needs to get out of there” you spoke, referring to the scenes on screen and, just as the movie progressed, you began to nervously draw your fingertips across Cillian’s arm, giving him goosebumps.

“Please tell me she is going to escape” you then told Cillian while fidgeting nervously but he did not say a word as, unbeknownst to you, he tried very hard not to become aroused by you being so close to him now.

Eventually, the movie intensified and you moved forward again, right onto the edge of the couch and, instead of grasping for the blanket now, you had dug your finger nails into Cillian’s arm.

“Oh my god” you said as the final scene of the movie came on and Cillian felt relieved for the fact that it was almost over.

“Fuck that was so good” you then said when, finally, the movie came to and end and your reaction amused Cillian just slightly.

“So you haven’t seen it, have you?” he mused and you shook your head before you stretched yourself and yawned.

"No, I haven’t. It was a great, but I am absolutely knackered now” you then told Cillian while moving away from him again.

“Well, it is almost eleven o’clock. We should probably go to bed” he suggested and, of course, he was right. You had a nine o’clock start and even he had to be at drama school at around ten the following morning.

“Yeah. We should” you thus said. “Thank you again for letting me stay here, and thanks for the pizza and wine…” you then told him before leaning in slightly to give Cillian a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“You are most welcome Y/N” Cillian responded, swallowing hard before wishing you a good night’s sleep which is also when you made your way to the guestroom.

To be continued…Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tags: @fastfan@elenavampire21@dolllol2405@allie131313@cilliansangel@coldbastille@kpopgirlbtssvt@cdej6@kathrinemelissa@landlockedmermaid77@crazymar15@damedomino @lauren-raines-x@miss-bunny19@skinny-bitch-juice@odorinana@cloudofdisney@weepingstudentfishhorse@allexiiisss@geminiwolves@letsstarsfalling@ysmmsy@chlorrox@tommyshelbypb@chocolatehalo@music-lover911@desperate-and-broken@mysticaldeanvoidhorse@peaky-cillian@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz@december16-1991@captivatedbycillianmurphy@romanogersendgame@randomfangirl2718@missymurphy1985@peakyscillian@lilymurphy03@deefigs@theflamecrystal@livinginfantaxy@rosey1981@hanster1998@fairypitou@zozeebo@kasaikawa@littleweirdoalien@sad-huffle-nerd@theflamecrystal@0ghostwriter0@stylescanbeatmyback@1-800-peakyblinders@datewithgianni@momoneymolife@mcntsee@janelongxox@basiclassy@being-worthy@chaotic-bean-of-smolness@margoo0@vhscillian@crazymar15@im-constantly-fangirling@namelesslosers@littlewhiterose@ttzamara@cilleveryone@peaky-cillian@severewobblerlightdragon@dolllol2405@pkab@babaohhhriley@littleweirdoalien@alreadybroken-ts@masteroperator@stevie75@shabzy96@rainbow12346@obsessedwithfandomsx@geeksareunique@laysalespoir@paigem00@lkarls@vamp-army@luckystarme@myjumper@gxorg@eline-1806@goldenharrysworld@cristinagronk16@stylesofloki@faatxma@slut-for-matt-murdock@tpwkstiles@myjumper@cloudofdisney@look-at-the-soul@smellyzcat@kittycatcait219@theliterarybeldam@being-worthy@layazul@lyn07@kagilmore@50svibes@mainstreetlilly@ourthatgirlabby@bitchwhytho@takethee@registerednursejackie@sofi128@mrkdvidal1989@minxsblog@heidimoreton@laylasbunbunny@laylasbunbunny@queenshelby@camilleholland89@forgottenpeakywriter@vintagecherryt@indierockgirrl@mrkdvidal1989@bluesongbird@dudde-44@gasolinesavages@kissforvoid@bluebird592@1eugenia1isabella1@esposadomdp@lulunalua23@lovelace42@bookklover23@iwantmyredvelvetcupcake@moonmaiden1996@marlenamallowan@cyphah (cannot tag)@majesticcmey@cleverzonkwombatsludge@throughgoeshamilton@alessioayla@elenavampire21@justforfiction@cilliansangel@alannielaraye@satellitelh@pandoramyst@duckybird101@snixx2088@kylianswag@alessioayla@pono-pura-vida@iraisbored69@howling-wolf97@aesthetic0cherryblossom@weirdo-rules@lovemissyhoneybee@dazaiscum@esposadomd@etherealkistar@ur--mommy@throughgoeshamilton

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n

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redrobin-detective · 1 year

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I posted 4,746 times in 2022

956 posts created (20%)

3,790 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@batshit-birds

@broosepayne

@cannotgiveafuck

@megamindsupremacy

@historygrump

I tagged 2,071 of my posts in 2022

#dcmk - 114 posts

#dannypocalypse - 50 posts

#the batman 2022 - 39 posts

#the batman spoilers - 37 posts

#danny phantom - 29 posts

#the batman - 27 posts

#outed au - 24 posts

#secret robin au - 19 posts

#adventures in nursing - 17 posts

#ben 10 - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#(remember that time i lovingly complained that i missed having a nurse friend around and she reminded me she was caring for her hospice gram

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

So I was donating blood and was thinking of an AU where Billy knew he was Captain Marvel, knew how to access his powers but retained nothing of Marvel’s memories. A consequence of the magic is that the human mind can’t comprehend it so Billy transforms and essentially blacks out until he changes back. I can only imagine the sheer frustration of Bill having No Idea what he was up to as Marvel. His street buds think he’s the biggest Cap fanboy because he’s constantly tracking down down info on the heroes fights and missions in a desperate bid to understand.

Marvel himself would be Billy but maybe he too has a hard time connecting to his mortal self’s memories. He knows he’s from Fawcett City, that he struggles and barely scrapes by under difficult circumstances but he really can’t recall any details or information about Bill’s life. He may even forget that his true self is child. Pretty ironic if Cap is voting down introducing child sidekicks to the League.

Freddy is shaking Billy down for info about what the Justice League is like and Bill is red faced from frustrated tears because he knows Nothing. He knows via interviews that the JLA loves Marvel, trusts him and talks to him alot but he doesn’t remember. Superman probably told Marvel his identity but does Bill know? Nope and its incredibly annoying.

2,576 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

Me every moment Battinson was on screen in The Batman (2022): GIVE THIS MAN A CHILD! THE SMALLER AND SPUNKIER THE BETTER! THIS MAN ABSOLUTELY NEEDS A SMALL CHILD WITH HIM AT ALL TIMES!

2,612 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

Listen, we know Bruce was traumatized by his parents’ death but I hold that even before they were killed Bruce Wayne was a little weirdo. Like his paranoia and difficulty with emotion and attachment are from that terrible night. But I imagine 8 year old Brucie was OCD as hell and painstakingly arranging and rearranging his things to his satisfaction. He was meticulous, even as a child, very detail oriented. Highly intelligent, showing a boundless curiosity and determination to understand everything from a young age. I bet he was hell to enforce bedtimes on, always to do much to do and too little hours in the day.

Bruce was that kid who dragged bugs in the house for study, pulled down all the books on one shelf so could arrange them in height order, skittered around the house’s many passages like a little rat. He was the kid who was happy and cheerful but a bit awkward from growing up a Wayne, he would much rather squirrel away somewhere with a book considered too old for him than talk with people he didn’t know. He loved the macabre in the way weird little kids too, he wanted to see Zorro for the action and the violent fight scenes. Thomas and Martha Wayne had to listen to their precocious son ask them time and again how they thought they would die and listen to his speculations.

I want the Justice League to have to go back in time for whatever reason and they expect Bruce to be a delightful, happy, normal child. Instead, they find a kid with a lovingly worn Sherlock Holmes omnibus under one arm, an entire bag of raisins in the other, dark circles under his eyes from late nights reading and he’s covered in dust and debris from getting stuck behind the drywall again.

“You’re not mom and dad’s friends,” he’d say in a petulant voice with a familiar set of his mouth. “I’m gonna call my butler and he’s going to kick your butt.” And the whole League loses their mind because Bruce really has always been Bruce.

4,426 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

I’m so glad ‘rotating X Favorite Character around in my mind’ came into fanon lexicon because !!! It’s so true. I love my favs but sometimes I’m not actively fic planning or character analyzing or whatever. Sometimes you don’t do anything with them but fiddle with their general vibe like one rolls a coin between their fingers. Sometimes you just, rotate them in your mind while thinking absolutely no thoughts about them

9,343 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

After careful consideration and going over multiple options I think the best choice is stay warm and cozy in bed forever.

76,684 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #well that was embarrassing #as always #also s/o to tumblr for sideeyeing me for not tagging 50% of my posts #sORrY i HAve A jOb

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altocat · 2 years

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Hojo headcanons? I stg mentioning him feels cursed lmao

Our least favorite greaselord! These are just only within my personal HC universe, of course.

-Hojo is from Wutai but has little to no actual loyalty towards his home country. He's a textbook opportunist and only follows his base desires and instincts. He will happily betray whoever he pleases and grab whatever is available to him.

-As a child, Hojo enjoyed collecting bugs and other small critters for study. He did not necessarily hurt them so much as try to catalog and analyze them. I don't think Hojo was BORN a sociopath, but his ambitions and gradual disconnection with society influenced him to disregard all semblances of ethics or morality over time.

-Hojo is aromantic asexual. He has little interest in anything other than his experiments. He manipulated and copulated with Lucrecia in order to produce Sephiroth (but in my stories, Seph isn't even his son anyway so whoopsie). Hojo grows aware early on that Sephiroth is not really his. But his insanity, twisted convictions, and general responsibility for the boy convinces him that he IS Sephiroth's true father. It's a very ugly state of possession and denial.

-Speaking of Seph, Hojo raised him. It's a sadistic, stress-inducing, hazardous upbringing overall. Sephiroth deals with more than one instances of trauma under Hojo. Hojo pushed him to his absolute breaking point to ensure that his son succeeds.

-Years later, long after Sephiroth completely despises him, Hojo takes to just outright goading and taunting Sephiroth for aknowledgement and attention, even if it means getting hurt. Hojo is one of the few people who can trigger a legitimate rage out of Seph and occasionally ends up hospitalized as a result. But he doesn't care. Attention's attention.

-Does Hojo love Sephiroth? Yes and no. He loves him as much as someone like him is capable. Which isn't much. He views Sephiroth more as his possession or tool than anything else and was not above hurting him during his upbringing. But he still works to protect Sephiroth, push his reputation, and supply him with advantages and resources. He believes that he and Sephiroth are linked more than anyone else. Sephiroth isn't really Shinra's. He's HIS. Not telling Seph about his mother, along with other carefully placed manipulations was all a means of keeping Sephiroth in his grip, even after Sephiroth learned to hate and ignore him.

-Hojo sleeps maybe three hours at the most. He's always in the lab up to something. Personal higiene is also not really on his list of priorities. Ew.

-Hojo gleefully runs Sephiroth's online fanclub and has posted needlessly invasive, creepy content in the past. Sephiroth knows it's him. He can't do much about it though since Shinra actively encourages public propaganda and fan culture for their Firsts.

-Genesis has taken a swing at Hojo before. Personal reasons.

-He's surprisingly a smooth operator?? When he actually tries, he's good at telling people what they want to hear. For some reason, this makes him good at charming women, despite the fact that he's repulsive.

-Sadistic and terrible as he is, Hojo does get some level of cathartic satisfaction looking at Seph's old baby photos. And yes, I also like the idea of Chadley being directly influenced by Child!Seph.

-Hojo hates Hollander's guts. They've only half-heartedly attempted to off each other a small handful of times. Hojo is pretty scornful of Project G in its entirety.

-Angeal has taken a swing at Hojo before. Personal reasons.

-The man has like a literal mob of people out for his blood. And the list increases every year. It's pretty impressive.

-ANY redeeming qualities?? When serious enough, Hojo can make a passable attempt at empathy. I'd like to think he was genuinely upset in his own way when Sephiroth supposedly "died". Additionally, I'd like to think he used to admire Gast once upon a time, maybe in his youth. I don't think Hojo was born evil. Most people aren't. I'd like to imagine that something led him down the path he went on and now there's no going back. And maybe he knows it. But no longer cares.

-Sad grease daddo, liked by literally no one 💀

#Professor Hojo #Hojo #Ffvii #FF7 #Asks #Crisis Core #dirge of cerberus #Sephiroth #Final Fantasy 7 #final fantasy 7 remake #TRASH DAD #Jenova Project #Shinra

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obeyourlord · 2 years

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I Thought There Was Only One Avatar Of Greed? Part 4

ao3 link

As punishment for his outburst, and so Lucifer could keep an eye on him, Mammon was forced to sit on Lucifer’s lap whilst he did paperwork. Mammon couldn’t move even if he wanted to due to the curse Lucifer had cast on him, almost completely paralysing him. But what was bugging him even more than that was how bored he was sitting in Lucifer’s lap, all that man seemed to do was paperwork, it wouldn’t surprise Mammon if he was married to it. There was nothing to do except lean back onto Lucifer and fall asleep. Astonishingly, the continuous scribbling from Lucifer’s pen on his paperwork along with the hot puffs of air falling over Mammon’s head from Lucifer’s breathing quickly lulled him to sleep.

And if Lucifer noticed but chose not to say anything against it, who could blame him?

For hours afterwards, Lucifer diligently filled in sheets happily with his favourite brother asleep on him. The eldest was tempted to release Mammon from the spell (not curse, curses were bad and were used to hurt people, it was used to help Mammon) that bound him to not move so they could cuddle. Of course, he did not despite wanting to do so. Demons were notoriously bad at resisting their urges, but Lucifer was no mere demon, he was a lord and the prince’s right-hand man. Lucifer Morningstar was strict on others and stricter on himself. He was not weak against temptation; temptation was weak against him.

Although he did allow himself to place a smooch on Mammon’s forehead.

Lucifer could not express his sheer joy at having this privilege, without there being anybody who could bug him or try to take Mammon away from him. His brothers wouldn’t dare try for at least a week after all that commotion with Barbatos so it was guaranteed that Mammon would stay with him. Right?

Now cut to such a person who would.

Asmodeus was excited to finally spend some time with his favourite big brother and have that spa day they previously couldn’t have due to a certain worm’s evil plot, daring to corrupt his poor brother like that. He knew there was no other reason for being blown off like that! It was Asmodeus! Nobody in their right mind would do that to him! And Mammon wasn’t in his right mind with that terrible curse afflicting him, so his jealousy from before was for nothing as his brother truly preferred his company over what's-it-called.

He knew that Mammon had attacked Barbatos but he wouldn’t do that to his precious, little brother whom he loves very much. And even if he did try for some inexplicable reason, Lucifer couldn’t get mad if he charmed their brother as the circumstances would be different! And it was still for a good reason last time, Leviathan wouldn’t get out of his room last time. Even if the others (especially Lucifer) felt differently.

With a final check of his appearance, Asmodeus bust open the door to Lucifer’s study where the current object of his interest resided.

“Lucifer! I have come to collect my darling brother~” Asmodeus sang.

Lucifer glared up at the offender who had interrupted him admiring Mammon, who turned out to be Asmodeus. He had only been with Mammon for a couple hours and didn’t want to let go so soon. Out of all his brothers, he forgot to account for Asmodeus who’s audacity seemed to have no limit. The first born knew eventually he would have to share with not only his brothers but also five more but why couldn’t that time come later? Stalling could work, it was the best option at that moment.

“Unfortunately, Mammon had thrown a fit earlier and won’t be able to join whatever activities you planned.”

Technically Lucifer wasn’t lying, Mammon had done that and it was a good reason for not letting him go. But of course, Asmodeus wouldn’t care about that, he only wanted to get his way like a brat.

“Oh, I’m sure he can,” Asmodeus stated cheerfully with a smile, his eyes revealing the malice he tried to hide through forced pleasantries. Asmo knew what shit Lucifer was trying to pull but the avatar of lust wouldn’t let him. “Mammon, would you like to have a spa day? I’m sure it will be more exciting than watching Luci do paperwork~”

Mammon, on the other hand, didn’t feel like going with Asmodeus was a better alternative as the spa days he spoke of could consist of many painful beauty products. Not only that but it was long and excruciating and took up so much energy. Even if he was bored, he wasn’t looking to be tortured for the sake of nice skin.

“Well, Luci has been lonely, right?” Mammon looked at Lucifer for conformation who nodded so he could continue, “so I can’t leave ‘im alone.”

Asmodeus dropped the smile in favour of glaring at the eldest brothers with such intensity, Mammon started to shake. Not that it took much to scare Mammon as any brother would tell you. Lucifer returned the gesture with his own glare said to kill those unfortunate enough to receive it, hoping that would make the lustful one flee from the room and never come back. And, as the kind older brother he was, even comforted Mammon from the fear he felt by holding him closer to him.

Mammon never liked his brothers yelling or getting angry, especially at him. Thankfully he could escape it this time by burying his face into Lucifer’s chest who in turn shifted to make Mammon more comfortable in his arms. Having won some type of pissing competition, Lucifer’s glare turned into a smug smile as he had proved yet again he was superior to his other brothers. Now thinking about it, the animal used to symbolise Lucifer was appropriate as it is a peacock, an animal known to fan his feathers to impress females even if it got him killed. Asmo swore he could see Lucifer doing that strange, little dance with his feathers to swoon Mammon.

The fifth born, however, wasn’t like that colourful turkey. He was a scorpion, a venomous predator who were known for attacking quickly with deadly precision. If that weak bird wanted to dance with a superior being like himself, he will just have to accept that challenge.

“Lucifer is a big boy, he can take care of himself. If he was truely lonely, he could have company like I do.” Asmodeus dropped his playful tone altogether.

“I do not wish to spend time with dirty succubus like you do, brother. And I am lonely unlike how you think I am, I missed my favourite brother.” Lucifer cuddled closer to Mammon in the hopes it would piss off his brother. His face was buried in Mammon’s hair which smelt like cinnamon.

Mammon swore these two were fighting like characters would in a video game. He could even picture it.

Lucifer chose to attack Asmodeus. He used affection.

The attack succeeded. It was super effective!

“WELL!” Asmodeus yelled from frustration. “Maybe I’ve been lonely, too! And not for the company of my friends- and they’re not dirty succubi like you think- but family. I told Mammon how much I wanted to hang out, but he ignored me!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes at Asmo’s over dramatics, why couldn’t his brother stop whining? He was ruining his precious time with Mammon. If only he would go away.

“Oh! My brother, how you wound me! I make time to see you and this is how you repay me!” The fifth born started to fake cry to increase the guilt felt by the second elder, he surely felt guilty from disappointing the best of his younger brothers.

With a sigh, Lucifer responded to his dramatic brother’s whining. “Stop creating drama like this, it’s unbecoming of demons of our stature.”

“No, no, no!” Asmodeus stamped his feet in time with his chanting. Lucifer felt a migraine coming from his brother's oncoming tantrum while Mammon was scared to what would happen. His brothers could have... explosive tantrums.

“It’s not fair! Mammon is my brother, too! I want to cuddle with him!” The avatar of lust decided to throw a fit if it meant he could spend time with Mammon after so long away from him.

The longer Asmodeus argued his point, the less patience Lucifer had. Forget the migraine, his blood pressure had risen so high he swore a vein would burst. Mammon noticed the chance in his older brother’s peaceful attitude before Asmo came and then, it was the same anger as when he had stolen from Diavolo’s castle for the second time in a week.

Mammon didn’t want either of his brothers fighting over him as it could get dangerous considering both demons had zero control or chill when it came to fighting other demons, all his brothers were known to have short fuses. On the other hand, for once his brothers want to spend time with him and are willing to fight because of it, a first for Mammon. It was funny how a year ago he was praying to Father for a chance like this to happen even if he thought it was an impossibility at the time. Perhaps Father had a sick sense of humour.

Still, it would be better to take Asmodeus up on his offer before either of the stubborn pair hurt the other.

“It’s fine, Luci. I'll be back later, k?” Mammon told Lucifer as he tried to get up only to fall over. He had forgotten about the hex on him, he was too busy keeping up with his arguing brothers.

With his say, Lucifer relented and undid the spell on Mammon that kept him from leaving his lap (and it was cold when he got up but he wouldn’t admit that.) Asmo wiped away his fake tears from his face and cheered, he got a turn with Mammon! Finally! With a final wave from Mammon, and a victorious look sent Lucifer’s way, both left the office.

Now that Asmodeus was in possession of his brother, it was time for Asmo to spoil him to help Mammon get over that thing. Mammon had really lowered his standards. One day- no, an hour spent with the beauty guru would brighten anybody’s day. It would be easy as they’d do what they would’ve for any spa day, the real treat was spending time with him. The only difference being that they couldn’t leave HoL to visit a retreat as they would’ve.

First, a bath with face masks. Any trace that disgusting, slimy creature left on his brother will be thoroughly cleansed by Asmo. After soaking and gossiping (he really needed to catch Mammon up on the latest drama) they would put on romcoms and other cheesy movies, maybe a musical. Mamma Mia is beloved by all, Mammon did love to sing along to the songs, but Grease had more action and macho men. Although, dirty dancing made Mammon start slow dancing with the brothers last time and Titanic makes him cry every time. Oh well, they could watch them all. And while they watched the movies, they could paint their nails and all that other good stuff they used to do.

Asmo skipped and hummed a tune in joy, happy to have Mammon around again. It hadn’t even been that long yet he was already happy. And when everything went back to normal, it would be best for all of them. It would just take time and Mammon’s cooperation.

He missed his brothers; Mammon had always been a family person. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have fallen for his sister, Lilith. He wouldn’t have done most of what he had done if he didn’t care about family. But how could he side with them when they’re the ones in the wrong?

Mammon was still a family person only his family seems to have changed over time. He had lost more than Lilith during the war; he’d lost his brothers as well. All of them had changed in different ways but not in a good way. Looking at Asmo, all he could see was a hollow shell of who his little brother used to be. Before he was kind to everyone, he was the jewel of the Celestial Realm for a reason and it wasn’t just his looks.

Being kind was one of the most attractive traits an angel could have and Asmodeus was known to be the most attractive angel of all. He had the ability to list off anybody’s best features and was generous to all. Now all that was left was an empty husk of a once beautiful angel, torn apart by his sin.

It upset Mammon to watch all his brothers wither away and fade from what they once were ages ago, all with the knowledge that he couldn’t help. Perhaps, as they fell, his brothers were left back in the Celestial Realm, far from reach, and what fell with him were bodies devoid of life. As time went on, the shadows and sin filled them until all that could have remained of his brothers was pushed out.

All he could rely on was Mephistopheles, the one common in his life that wouldn’t turn against him as the others had. All that was his family anymore was Mephistopheles.

His thoughts were interrupted by the brother currently dragging him around.

“I really missed you. I thought that the creepy weirdo would steal you away forever, that you’d leave us and live with him.” Asmo looked away, in that moment he looked so small and vulnerable. “I thought you’d leave me.”

It was rare for the fifth born to be so honest and upfront with his emotions and let himself be vulnerable. In demon culture, emotion was seen as a weakness that could be exploited and was therefore frowned upon. It had even historically lead to demons losing stature or being killed in extreme cases. And as lords of Devildom, it was a luxury to be able to express their true selves. The extent of what Asmo could reveal to others was veiled as nothing but lust and not love even if that was a lie.

As Mammon looked at Asmo, he couldn’t help but feel bad. It wasn’t his fault that his younger brother felt that way and yet it felt like it was.

“Asmo, I love ya. You're one of mah precious, baby brothers but ya can’t do this. I have a life outside these walls! I have friends who’ll miss me, a lover who’s there for me,” Mammon explained. “Me and Mephistopheles ‘ave been dating for ages. And, as much as I love you, I won’t stop dating him.”

“No!” Asmo exclaimed in anger. “You can’t date him! He'll just use you! He already put a curse on you!”

“He makes me happy! He cares about me like nobody has before!” Mammon shouldn’t do this again but when had he ever made a good decision?

“What about us!? We love you!” Asmo shouted back.

“No! Ya don’t! All of ya hate me, hurt me, call me names! I wanna be able to say ya love me but that would be a lie. But for the first time you pay any positive attention to me is cause you’re all jealous dicks!” He really shouldn’t do this again.

“Mammon...” Asmodeus trailed off. Mammon thought they hated him? Oh, how evil they’ve been, making their brother think they don’t love him.

“And then Mephistopheles came. The first good thing to ‘appen ta me and you took ‘im away! Don’t I deserve happiness? Can’t ya love me in a way that doesn’t kill me inside?” Mammon was crying by this point. It had been so long, he had kept himself together for far too long while breaking and it was just too much.

Mammon sobbed and collapsed to the floor in a heap of a broken person. There was no going back from this, their relationship would never be the same after what they’ve done. Good. They were terrible brothers anyways and Mammon shouldn’t have stuck around and took it like he had. He should’ve taken up Mephistopheles’ offer to move away to the outskirts of Devildom where nobody knew their names or faces.

Asmo, however, was tied. On one hand, he was happy to have Mammon back at home but looking down at him in that moment, crying as if he had been stabbed made it obvious to him that it didn’t make Mammon happy. That vermin might have been better for his brother than he was after all.

Asmo picked Mammon up and carried him to his bedroom all while Mammon clung to him like a koala, bawling his eyes out into his shoulder. So, a very sad koala would be a more appropriate description.

The night carried on as planned after that with manicures, movies and tasty snacks. It was tense between the brothers and Asmo did all the talking whilst Mammon pouted, having calmed down from his breakdown. But spending time with his brother relieved some of Asmo’s worries. Maybe he should talk to Lucifer about him keeping Mephistopheles away from Mammon or how he was locking Mammon up.

Mammon fell asleep half-way through Pearl Harbour, it’s not like it was a favourite of theirs anyways. Asmo quietly turned off the movie so it didn’t wake up his brother, it would be terrible if it did considering his brother had such a cute face when sleeping, so cute he couldn’t help but place kisses all over it. It was no wonder his modelling career was so successful!

Too bad this couldn’t last forever; it was unfortunate Lucifer was around, so Asmodeus had to obey the rules. If Mammon was asleep then he had to bring him back to Lucifer’s room for ‘safe-keeping’. They all knew it was his attempt at an excuse so he could spend time with Mammon but if denial helped to make it easier than they wouldn’t judge.

Asmo entered the room with his sleepy koala in his arms, he had forgotten how cuddly Mammon was in his sleep. Lucifer was sat at his desk reading some book with a glass of wine. At the sound of his door opening and closing, he looked up and saw Asmo with Mammon. He smiled at the two before swiftly getting up to grab Mammon from the avatar of lust.

“Thank you, Asmodeus, I know with the curse being in effect that it could be a challenge being around Mammon, but you seemed to handle it very well. Good job.” Lucifer congratulated him.

The curse! Of course! That’s why Mammon was so unhappy. Although it’s true that they’re not the best brothers, he still wanted to live with them, not Mephistopheles. He's probably- no, definitely happy to be around his brothers, especially Asmo. It’s the curses fault for not letting him tell them that! It made sense now that Lucifer mentioned it.

“No problem! If you need someone to look after Mammon, then I’m your girl!” Asmo exclaimed happily.

“Yes, of course. You are excused now.” Lucifer sighed as the door to his bedroom closed accompanied with a light squeak and soft click. He placed Mammon on the bed and brushed the stray hairs from his face. He sighed when Mammon nuzzled his face into Lucifer’s palm.

That was a close one. If he had left Asmodeus any longer than he had, his brother might have believed Mammon when he spouted all those lies. Of course, he would, his brothers weren’t as strong as him. This curse was beginning to cause them many troubles. Lucifer sighed and looked towards a bowl of poison apples residing on his desk. He smirked as an idea formed in his head.

Only a curse would break a curse, right?

#obey me

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Note

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #obey me Diavolo #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor

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sweettodo · 3 years

Text

we're your best friends.

jean kirstein x freader x eren jaeger.

includes : smut, threesome, swearing, innocent / naive y/n, taking virginity.

word count : 3,4k

a / n , thank you for 400 ( 450 as of 3 / 8 / 21 ) , i love you all <3 you're all so special to me and i’m grateful for you. i hope we can grow together as a big ole’ happy family !

"Do you guys ever stop?!" you bellow, your bedroom filled with the shouting amongst the two men in front of you, their rough voices which completely washed away any interjections you gave.

Sighing, you grab one of your notebooks from your desk, winding up your shoulder, and throwing it at Eren. The book slaps him in the face and he shouts, his hand rubbing his face.

"The fuck y/n!" He screeches, Jean, shutting up right after Eren, hair messy from tugging at it out of frustration. You wondered why a simple conversation about who would be the better gentleman; the better man. We had commenced in the formal meeting area- your room- hours ago, to study; hence the notebook used to bonk Eren's pitiful face, "you don't get it." He huffs.

"You two better stop acting childish before I kick you out." Walking between them and plopping down on your bed, pleased to see that the battle had now dwindled from your -very- empty threat. You couldn't kick them out even if you wanted to.

Everyone at school was very well acquainted with the fact that Jean and Eren both had a persistent problem of rivalry, they fought about everything; from who had the better penmanship, better wardrobes, better walk, to who was prettier.... yes, prettier.

Eren stubbornly sits on one corner of the bed, traversing his legs with his back pressed against the wall, Kerstein made himself relaxed in your desk chair, "as I was saying, before I was so impolitely interrupted-" you snort, glancing at the two men, "you both are gentleman, but it's more than just how you talk to a girl."

"Yeah don't be ridiculous, I'm good at more than you think y/n." Jean boasts, smirking and tauntingly glaring at Eren who returns the glare, hair seeping down his shoulders as he rolls his eyes at the cocky Kerstein.

"I'm a sex god, I can sex anyone up, anytime- anywhere." Jean lunging to his feet and stupidly rocking his hips side to side like the fuck-boy he knows he is, virtually wearing it like a badge. Eren and you snickered at him.

Jean grunts, finger in the air tauntingly, "alright! It's not that funny anymore! Quit laughing!" tears brimming your eyes, chest aching from laughing, the blonde now taking into account that you two were more laughing at him, rather than with him.

Defensively, he shouts, "Keep laughing, virgin." Jean grins, squatting back down in the chair dramatically.

"I can name plenty of girls who want to get with me." Eren retorts. Laying your back against the headboard, listening as Eren spews stories about the 'countless sexcapades' he has with girls every week and the 'countless' girls who plead to fuck him on the daily.

"So childish, especially for a couple of university students."

You're dismissed again, "Y/n, who do you think would be better in bed, be honest!" you evaluate the question as much as you could, not to mention how hard it was to even imagine.

Simply putting it, you were a prude.

They wait hastily for your reply, curious to what you had to say, the silence provoking them to shuffle in their seats.

"I think... hm, Jean." Eren groans out in defeat, Jean cackling and throwing his head back, Eren pouts and crosses his arms, huffing out.

"You know what, how the fuck would you know anyway, huh?" rolling your eyes, Jean who is taking his sweatshirt off and hanging it off your chair, heeding to Eren, who is still weeping, "Jean, that doesn't count, she's never gotten with either of us, to begin with, her judgment doesn't count." Declaring matter-of-factly, Jean rubs his chin with his thumb and index, looking into the distance like he was contemplating to speak.

You watched as Eren stands in annoyance, his arms still crossed, "I mean, we could show her, but-"

"-We should, then it'll be fair."

Left in utter shock, were they insinuating you do something so delusional and sinful with your two closest friends? wouldn't that ruin years of friendship? Have they no morals? And to think Eren would have a little more decency.

"No, no way, don't be ridiculous."

Jean sucks his teeth, leaning in his chair so his elbows sat on his knees, the energy in the room had drastically changed, they were now watching you, making your hands anxiously tremble, their eyes scanning yours, while you tried to look at anything but them, heart out of your chest and now in your throat, they sat so relaxed, so casual like the proposition of sex didn't even phase them.

"C'mon, I want you to tell us who's better, you're our best friend, you're the best one to determine who's best." Jean pouts, this was a very clear-detectable manipulation, and you were not inept.

"Are you trying to manipulate me, Kirstein?" he shakes his head, leisurely stretching back into the chair, "because if you are it won't work on me." Jean peeks over to Eren, looking to be affirmed.

Eren plays with the hem of his shirt, a smug look on his lips, looking down to attempt to hide it.

Both men have talked about getting you to become their little toy, countless times at dinner with all the other cadets to embarrass you- or during the summer when you wore shorts to practice with your gear, sparring with a tank top, they both imagined unholy things, things you would believe to be appalling. "How about- better kisser?" tilting your head, that wasn't so much worse.

"Yeah, we've nearly kissed before too," Jean interjects, he saw your eyebrows scrunch, looking mindless, eyes so naive, his head full of vile thoughts, ways he and Eren could corrupt you, tear you open, and leave you begging for more. But they clearly couldn't let you know what they talked about.

So innocent.

"Sharing drinks," nodding slowly, the boys internally prayed you would loosen up only just a little, just a foot in the door so they could kick the fucking door down and break you in- they both figured it was about time anyways; you were a college student and hadn't done anything?

But you had not even a clue, that dumb little head of yours, how could you not comprehend their tactics. This was their way to get your legs open? This was laughable to them; too easy.

Dragging your ass across the bed, not leaning on the wall anymore; you sat criss-cross in the middle of the mattress, center of their attention, "I guess you're right." Mind racing, Jean would never talk to you again if you had said no to at least kissing, and Eren would probably get upset with you, not eager in being your friend, most likely following in his friend's lead.

Jean rolls closer to the side of the bed in your chair, not even a foot away from you.

"I can go first, Eren?" Eren nods, he was beyond delighted, this was fucking crazy. Truth was, Eren, who was seldom nervous over this type of thing; yet he was envious that Jean could be so... persistent; wishing he could be the same. With Jean grabbing your chin, such a pretty face you had, especially when you were anxious.

Easy to mold, easy to manipulate you; to do whatever he wanted with a bat of his eyelashes and a polite smile.

And here he was- in the back of his head - telling himself that he needed to teach you not to be so susceptible from now on.

He squanders no time, capturing your lips with his own, moving in a swift and low action, you kiss him back. He was incredible, it was at the perfect pace, the residing taste of mint gum that filled your mouth.

No wonder the girls loved Jean so much.

His thumb caressing your cheek which sent little cringes of anxiety throughout your body- realizing you had to kiss Eren after this, this was going to make you so dirty, but how could you kiss Jean and leave your other friend out? How unreasonable that would be.

Eren's abrupt words make you jump, "alright horse face, stop hogging and share." Jean pulls back, lips light rosy pink, even a little swollen, he rolls backward in the chair, the other young man sits up in front of you while still comfortable on the bed.

Instead of Jean's approach, Eren tilts your head, kissing your jawline first, tensing up from the ticklish feeling, soft lips establishing morale towards your choice in agreeing to do what they asserted; it wasn't that terrible after all.

He kisses up to the corner of your mouth and then slowly kisses you on the lips, eyes fluttering closed, drunk off his smell, stomach doing backflips.

Gradually pulling back, he's smiling like a fool before scooching backward back to his spot.

"Who do you think was better?" Jean rushes, blushing and looking to your lap, thumbs playing with each other, subconsciously hoping they would do a little more. You didn't know who was better, they both were so good, too good.

"I don't know, you both are really good,"

Jean was going mad, you tasted so fucking good, and he didn't know how much longer he could contain himself, trying to remain relaxed.

Eren's dick twitching in his pants when he heard you finally say his name instead of Kerstein's, he was ecstatic...

Jean stands and scoffs, "alright I'll give him that, but I'm good at everything else. Eren s' a fucking virgin boy." biting your tongue, you felt guilty, Jean was really good, telling yourself 'maybe I should stop being so uptight, they would never actually hurt me.' Eren sees you ponder, looking into space while you stewed on your sentiments, Jean with no awareness as he rambles on and on about how experienced he is.

Gnawing on your bottom lip, anxious, you needed to make the first move- you needed to make this right.

Slowly, making sure they're both watching, you begin to unbutton your blouse, bottom-up.

"What are you doing?"

"You two wanted to show me who was better?"

Jean's eyes bug out of his head, smile growing across his face, Eren stands, embarrassed from your suggestion, they were nearly jumping for joy, "but I don't know ho-"

Jean jerked your shoulders, "relax," He whispers, out comes a shaky breath when his hands waste no time to finish unbuttoning your top. "You trust us, you wanna' feel good, right?"

The room was silent besides the pounding of your heart; could it have been any louder?

Blouse wide open for both of them to see your chest. Eren, who sat inches from you tugged at the fabric on your right shoulder, "so pretty- look at these Eren," Jean's large hands cupping your tits, sitting pretty in your bra, your throat grows increasingly dry, the feeling in between your legs tingling, though, you had no idea how to interpret it.

Eren stands back up, standing shoulder to shoulder with his friend, his hand caressing down your back and gripping at the flesh of your skin.

Looking at them as they stare at your chest, their hands all over you. "Do you know how to do anything at all?" Eren asks, shaking his head, he looks at Jean and pulls his hand back, "Jean and I are gonna ake care of you."

"Yeah, okay." Jean pushing you on your back, legs barely open, unbuttoned your pants, tugging them off hungrily. Both looking at you with lust-filled eyes, they had never seen you like this; so bare. Your legs are propped up so Jean and Eren can both stand before them. Their hands trailing up your jittery thighs.

"I'll get you ready, yeah? I don't want to hurt you." Responding with a simple nod, Jean is crouching down so his head is leveled to your clothed cunt, Eren sits back on the bed and slides his hand under your back; with one hand, he's unclasping your bra and peeling it off your body, his soft hands massaging your tits, nipples sensitive when his thumbs spend extra time on them.

Nerves doubling over when Jean's hands now pulling down your matching panties, head snapping up, legs shutting to deter them, Eren pushing you back down. "Calm down, you'll be fine." He reassures.

Eren feeling the soft skin, under his hands, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, Jean dragging his large hands in between your thighs, "have you ever fingered yourself y/n? Made yourself cum?" beyond embarrassed, the way they were taking their time on you, slowly feeling you up, you were almost becoming frustrated. Shaking your head, Jean clicks his tongue, "this might feel weird, but you trust us, right?" An audible gasp is shot out of your mouth when his middle finger is raking up between your folds.

Hissing out as he adds another finger, both of them running up and down your slick pussy, pressing down on a bundle of nerves, "feels- weird!" the more he played around with your sensitive clit, the more your leg twitched, the ticking feeling filling up your stomach, core flexing as he repeated his offense, the same sensitive rubs as his two fingers curled and fucked into you.

"Jean-” He was going so slow, making sure he didn't stretch you out too much, he needed to save that for later.

"Here, come taste."

Eren's grabbing Jean's hand, your tongue lolling out, his coated fingers dragging down your tongue, lips wrapping around his digits, tasting the juices from your cunt.

"Tastes good, right?" fingers still deep in your mouth, you're nodding like a fool, Jean smiling at the sight of the reaction bestowed on your face, the taste of your cum tainting your tastebuds; "of course she likes it, look at her, she wants more."

Eren nods in return, he leans down over you, soft hair falling on your chest as he leaves wet little kisses down your chest, peppering you with his lips down to your belly button.

Watching Jean, who is getting on the bed beside you, his knees next to your head, Eren jumping into action to take his best friends place, his sweats falling low just blow his v- line, he pushes them down, craning your neck to look up at Jean who his also pulling down his pants.

Your throat squeezes shut, lifting your head, "I don't you think that I-" Jean's hand grabbing your hair to silence you, jerking your neck up.

"Don't worry, I told you we'll help you."

"Jean, chill out a little." Eren mumbles, your head getting dropped back onto the bed, eyes fixated on Eren's wide torso, the tent in his boxers which made your mouth water, "I'll go slow, okay?" Palming his cock through his boxers, he holds your legs from under your knees, his boxers just under his cock, sliding his hand down and removes the little bit of coverage he had left. Your eyes widening, he spits in his hand, stroking his throbbing tip a few times with his thumb before adjusting forward and rubbing his raw cock up against your slicked pussy.

The feeling of Eren's thick tip squeezing inside of you makes you cry out in pain, the stinging pain of Eren taking his time to slide into you, fitting into you as much as he can.

Jean pinning your arms up above your head, tears spilling from your eyes, "h-hurts!" you whine, Jean beside you pumping his cock in his fist.

"So fuckin' tight, no wonder it hurts so bad." His hands pinning your legs open and up, he pulls out.

Without warning, he picks up speed, your body curling up from the pressure.

“I forgot what virgin pussy feels like, so tight-” he mumbled, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the way he could feel his heartbeat in his cock, he needed this so bad.

The pressure soon becomes desirable, wanting to feel it everything he thrusts into you, your complaints soon turn to moans, looking at jean through your eyelashes while he's fixated on the way your boobs bounce while Eren dives deeper into you.

"Don't forget to help Jean out, remember?"

You're situating yourself up on your elbows, turning your body so your head is between Jean's thighs, he's pushing your hair back and holding it in a loose but sufficient grip, "let me guide you."

His thumb swipes down your bottom lip, opening your jaw, tongue sliding past your lips to wrap around his cock like it's instinct.

"Good, just like that," he groans, his hand on the back of your head guiding you further down the base of his cock, Eren fucking you slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls clench around him, sucking him in, he could stay like this forever.

Your neck uncomfortably stretched to pleasure Jean made it all the more painful when he started pushing down the back of your throat; harder to catch your breath, harder to swallow the saliva that was seeping up the back of your throat, trying not to cough around his length.

"Been waitin’ too long for this,” Eren grunts, the lewd noises of his hits snapping against yours on one end while your nose is barely brushing against Jean’s hair around his stomach.

Jean slowly pulls out of your throat, drool following, giving you the chance to speak, “Eren, h-hot!” you cried, your stomach twisting, pussy squelching around his wide cock, head dizzy as you begin to feel like your floating.

Jean sees your body shake from beside him, while he pumps his cock in his free hand, his other hand is kneading your tit in his hand. “Oi, I think she's gonna cum- c’mon it's gonna feel so good, you're so close, pretty girl.” Eren drilling into you with your legs pinned open, moaning and gasping for air as you feel your hole spasm, body tingling as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“C- I'm cumming!” your hand on Eren’s pec, pushing against him to ease the pressure of his cock buried fully inside of you, “f-fuck! Fuck, Eren!” his body sticky on top of yours, thighs uncomfortably stuck to his waist.

“God, can stay like this all day.” You panted like a dog, blinking the blurred vision out of your eyes from the blinding orgasm.

Jean’s getting off the bed, slapping your thigh to sign for Eren to get off of you, “I hope you can take it, pretty girl.” The brunette pulling up his boxers and sitting on the bed where Jean was just seated.

A panting mess, Jeans tearing you from your spot and pushing you on your hands and knees, Jean presses against the small of your back, pushing you into a deeper arch, abused pussy mere inches away from another cock.

Eren picks your head up by your hair, an evil smile growing on his face as he sees your face twist with pleasure, Jean pushing into your cunt, a mixture of his best friends’ cum already leaking out of your cunt, “gonna fill you some more, just stay still for me, okay?”

He holds your hips in place, the further his cock sunk into you, the more it hurt, the more he stretched you out, the more you were split open by the intimidating of him.

“If you keep squeezin’ me like that, ” he spits, unable to finish his sentence.

He thrusts into you from behind, held grounded in place as Jean ruts into your pussy mercilessly, Eren watching you cry and beg for stupid little nothings.

Cream covering his cock, feeling your walls tighten around him, he snakes his hand over your thigh, and to your clit, rubbing lose and light circles around the bud, your legs quivering, back jolting up from the overstimulation, “hm, what did I say about stating still?” ripping away from your clit, you whine and your back is pushed back down.

Jean mere inches away from climax, hips sputtering against your backside as you feel your juices drip down your thigh, sticking to his stomach.

Your head drops into the mattress.

“Pretty girl, we're far from done with you,” Eren’s purring into your ear, “dont give up now, we haven't gotten to the best part.”

The pad of Jean’s thumb is pressing against the rim of your tight, pretty virgin ass, “you can trust us, we haven't hurt you yet, have we?”

Nodding, this was only the beginning of a very- very long night. One of many, actually.

#i love jean and and eren pls #jean kirstein #jean kirstein smut #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #jean x reader #eren x reader #eren x reader x jean #lemon #attack on titan eren yeager #attack on titan jean #aot #aot smut

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Hug

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Danis grief and the things that come with that (crying, heaviness)

Author’s Note: this was not on my list of things I wanted to write and yet

I feel held by him okay

Summary: You and Pelle meet through Dani and Christian (man I suck at summaries)

Song: Run by Hozier

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Dani liked you. She liked you a lot. You made her feel sane and that helped her in more ways than one. She liked the fact that you would always listen to her and tell her that she was right, even when she was wrong. She liked that your eyes never once flitted away from her when she spoke. She liked that you understood her grief in a way that most people would never try to.

She almost had no desire to introduce you to Christian. She loved Christian, she really did, but you didn’t need to meet her boyfriend.

Dani thought, even though you did appreciate her that you would never understand the way that he loved Christian. Maybe she didn’t even understand it.

In any event, she wouldn’t be able to explain in an adequate way.

But still, you pushed.

You were hanging out with her, in her room. She was walking around the room numbly, trying to understand why her head never seemed to be wrapped around the room when people were speaking. A sorrow was still hanging over her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. You were sitting on her desk, watching her anxiously pace back and forth.

“No.” She stopped walking. “I’m sorry, that was blunt.” You shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” you told her evenly. Dani walked up to you and sat down at the chair in front of you. She felt a little more clear headed with you. It helped to be around people sometimes. Tears started to well up in her eyes but she quickly shook them away.

“Christian has been distant lately. I don’t know how to tell him I still need him without being...needy,” she said, avoiding your eyes.

“He should understand.” You gave her a narrow look and she sighed.

“Yeah yeah. I know you wanna meet him.”

“I just wanna learn about this guy who supposedly has absolute zero ability to read his girlfriends moods.” She sighed.

“You wanna meet him? Alright. You can meet him. But his friends will probably be there and if you don’t wanna-”

“I’d love to meet his friends as well. You can tell a lot about a person based on the company that they keep.”

====

“This is Y/N. Y/N this is Christian, Mark, Josh and Pelle.” You shook their hands, a kind smile on your face. Mark eyed you for a second longer than he should have and you weren’t sure how to feel about them as a whole. A very basic group of boys that may not be all that they seemed. You were all at Christians place which was dirty. Clothes were on the floor and most of his books were strewn around. There was food on the kitchen counters.

You ignored your initial thoughts and waved slyly.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you all.” Truth be told, you didn’t know much about any of them but Christian. You barely knew their names to faces.

“You’re the only friend of Dani’s we hear about. You go to school here too right?” Josh asked. You nodded.

“Yes. It’s how Dani and I met.” Your eyes looked around the four of them and surveyed their expression. The man at the end, Pelle, had a very neutral and soft looking expression on his face. You admired him immediately.

But you ignored that so that you were able to assess Christian better.

“Now Christian, I think it’s about time I teach you how to treat your girlfriend,” you teased gently and the guys raised their eyebrows. Mark patted Christians back.

“She’s got her guns out. How are you going to respond?!” Mark asked loudly. Christian was laughing and so were you but you had been serious. He was a terrible boyfriend. If they had classes on how to be a decent boyfriend, you would force him to take them, for Dani’s sake.

“You’re Dani’s friend which means you are my friend,” he said finally. Your lips twitched and you nodded slowly. “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you though.” Dani sat down at the living room area and the boys quickly followed. Her and Christian were on the love seat, Mark in one of the chairs and you, Pelle and Josh on the couch. You were sitting beside Pelle on the left.

He smelled good.

“How is school treating you?” he asked. You turned to him, pleased to hear that his voice was as soothing as he looked. He had an accent you couldn’t place - you were hopeless with accents.

“Well! At this rate, I should get through finals with only a few scratches here and there,” you told him.

You could hear that Mark had asked Christian a question and they were having a conversation off to the side.

“How about you?” you asked.

“Good, just about as good as you. I wonder, maybe if we have any teachers in common,” he suggested. You nodded.

“It’s entirely possible. What are you studying?”

“I’m in the Anthropology department.”

“We may overlap. I’ll have to check your schedule.”

Dani gave you a look but your eyes were not on her. She couldn’t distinguish what you and Pelle were saying because your voices were so calm while the other boys were booming. She was only a few feet away and still...whatever you were laughing about was lost on her.

====

You didn’t stay long. Dani and you had to get back so that you were able to study for finals. And by that, it was usually you studying with her in the room so she had someone to keep her in check. You didn’t mind.

“You and Pelle seemed to get along well,” she noted.

“I was there to make sure Christian seemed like a decent human,” you told her.

“And?” You thought about it for a moment and she was right. You had talked to Pelle almost exclusively.

“Pelle was really nice,” you conceded. She laughed gently. At least you were able to be honest with her.

“I think he likes you. He’s a Swedish exchange student, if he didn’t tell you.”

“That’s where the accent is from! It was bugging me. I was about to start speaking to Google,” you said laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“You could have just asked him.”

“I didn’t know if it was inappropriate!”

======

You ran your hand through your hair as you walked around your little apartment. It had about everything you could ever need and you loved it. Dani was sleeping on the couch you had managed to squeeze in.

There was a knock at your door.

You checked the clock on the wall and furrowed your brows in confusion. It was still pretty early in the day. You had to go to class soon.

You opened the door and Pelle stood in front of you, a kind smile on his face.

“Pelle! What a nice surprise,” you whispered. He looked confused as to your whisper and you opened the door enough to show Dani sound asleep. He nodded understandingly.

“I hope this isn’t inappropriate,” he said, in the same hushed tone.

“No, no. Although I do have to go to class soon. What is it?” You leaned against the doorframe.

“I thought our conversation the other day was really nice.” He paused for a minute, thinking over his words. You waited patiently. “I would like to take you out for coffee.”

You were a bit surprised that he had come all the way to your apartment to tell you that. You assumed that Christian had given him the address. He had it so he knew where Dani was, she had given it to him.

“I would like that very much. Although, you could have just called,” you said smiling.

“I prefer in person. I think it’s more personal.” You nodded but turned around, grabbing a pen off of your desk. You grabbed his hand and scribbled your number onto his palm.

“For when you want to tell me where to meet you.” He smiled and nodded once, pleasantly.

“Until then.”

====

Pelle called you that night to tell you where to meet him for coffee. You were pleased and excited. Dani woke up the next morning when you were getting ready to leave. It was Saturday so you didn’t have any classes to attend and you figured you were due a break from studying.

“Where are you going?” she asked groggily. You cleaned up your bed and turned to her on the couch.

“I have a coffee date,” you said honestly.

She raised her head up off the pillow and rubbed her eyes.

“Oh?” You nodded, fixing your hair in the mirror. You looked yourself over and nodded nervously at yourself. You looked good. You hoped it wasn’t too much for just a coffee date. “Care to share who it’s with?”

You sheepishly looked at her through the mirror.

“Pelle,” you said quietly. She laughed heartily. It was the first time you had heard her actually laugh in weeks.

“Pelle?”

“Yes. Go back to bed. I’ll probably be back before you get up.” She laid her head back down.

“Have fun at your coffee date!” she called but her voice was muffled by the pillow.

====

“Yes! I told Dani that but she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know, I think maybe we’re all a little too hard on her.”

The coffee date was going swimmingly. Pelle was funny and he was also able to give you good advice. You were amazed at his kind heart.

As for his feelings for you, he loved you. Dani had spoken about you and your kind heart before but he never thought you would be like this. He never thought he would love you this much so instantly. You were charming and honest and there was some quip left in you. He admired your qualities and was pleased to find that you liked him as well.

He could never be sure but he thought you may like it back at his home.

“You’re being a very good friend. Better than most,” he said honestly. He reached a hand forward and laid it on your hands which were sitting on the table. Both of your cups were empty. You looked down at his hand on yours and attempted to suppress your emotions.

“Thank you Pelle.”

You moved your hands apart so they were holding his hand between them. He smiled a bit, sheepishly.

“I really enjoyed this.”

“I did as well.”

You were very pleased to hear it wasn’t one sided.

You both stood up and started for the door. His hand still held yours. It was within walking distance of both of your homes but in opposite directions. Before parting he turned to face you. You smiled up at him, trying your very hardest to not let him know how much you had enjoyed the date.

That was when your phone rang. Your smile fell and you had to know who it was calling.

Dani.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t worry. I will wait.”

You picked up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Yes?”

“I-I need you.” She was crying. She didn’t like to ask for help so this must have been serious. You nodded stiffly.

“I will be there in a couple minutes. Hold on,” you said kindly. You hung up the phone and turned to him. “Dani needs me, I’m sorry.” He shook his head and before you could say another word, he was hugging you.

You had thought he might kiss you but this was almost better. It was almost for sure better than a kiss. His arms engulfed your body and held you tightly. He was wearing a soft sweater and it felt so nice against your face. He smelled like herbs and trees. You hugged him back, tightly. He had his hand on the back of your head and he gently kissed your shoulder.

He pulled away ever so slightly and kissed you softly. You had to pull away to smile.

“I’ll see you soon Pelle.” He nodded and you were about to walk away when he strengthened his hold on you.

“Mark, Josh, Christian and I are going to take a trip back to my home in Sweden for the summer. Dani will likely be invited too. Would you like to come?”

#pelle x reader #midsommar imagines #pelle imagines

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lxvislxdy · 3 years

Text

Imagine Bakugou x stoner!reader

So... maybe I got carried away, and maybe this turned into more of just you and the bakusquad being besties, but I literally love this concept and will 100% be writing more.

Warning(s): obvious mentions of drug use, and some language. All characters are 18+.

So, let’s say, just for the hell of it, that this is a quirkless!college!au

just imagine...

- you befriend Sero and Denki first, meeting them in a class, and they love you right off the bat

- you’re personality just meshes so well with theirs, you become bffs almost instantly

- the three of you raise hell in that class, I’m convinced, like RIP to whoever sits near you goofs

- you slowly start to hang out outside of class. maybe it starts as a study sesh, but let’s be honest here. the three of you can’t focus to save your life, and eventually Sero asks if you guys wanna smoke

- and, to their complete surprise, you outsmoke them (Denki later bows down to you, literally, and proposes to you with a ring pop. he’s such a dork I love him)

- this becomes a weekly thing, as it should, and the three of you are practically attached at the hip

- your favorite part of hanging with them is, of course, all their crazy stories about their friends

- so of course they want to introduce you to the bakusquad, and you are just as eager to meet the rest of the group, if not a little nervous

- Denki and Sero assure you they’ll love you (”c’mon, you’re just like us, they’ll adore you!!!”) and they take you out to lunch with Mina and Kirishima

- now, if you thought you, Denki, and Sero was a chaotic trio, just wait until you add Mina to the equation

- Kirishima lives for the chaos and thinks you’re adorable, but the guy has his hands full keeping the four of you out of trouble, that’s for sure

- (when Bakugou’s not around, Kirishima is in charge of the braincell, I don’t make the rules)

- Mina immediately kidnaps you for a girls night, and is ecstatic about having a girl to hang out with her and the boys

- (SIDE NOTE, Mina introduces you to Jirou, and the three of you are THE baddest bitches around, thank you. the three of you definitely have girl nights and either kick the boys out, or force them to join, face masks and all)

- anyway, you finally get the opportunity to meet Bakugou

- and, as always, he’s in a sour mood. but! you don’t let his grumpiness upset you, in fact, you take it in stride and throw his attitude right back at him

- you aren’t mean, and you certainly aren’t going out of your way to bug him, but if Bakugou makes a snide comment? you better believe you’re throwing one right back at him

- and at first, Bakugou is annoyed, and thinks you’re mocking him. like, who do you think you are?

- but the more he gets to know you, he realizes that you’re way too sweet to be that mean. you fit right in with the idiots he’s friends with.

- and, to be honest, it drives him nuts. because he likes you. he likes you, and he likes when you snap back at him, and he likes watching you goof off and laugh with his friends

- in true Bakugou fashion, though, you’re convinced he hates you. it’s just the icing on top of the cake when one night you notice that every time you’re there, and Sero lights up, Bakugou disappears

- when you finally tell Mina this, she laughs. actually laughs! and you’re just like ....what?

- turns out, Bakugou hardly ever smokes with them, and he’s just like that.

“Trust me, babe,” Mina tells you, “It’s not you. Bakugou just doesn’t know how to relax, he’s got a terrible case of trust issues and a bad attitude to top it off. But he likes you, trust me! He’ll come around.”

- you weren’t so sure about that, but you take her word for it.

- and then, one night it’s just you, Denki, Mina, and Bakugou, and he stays!

“Someone with a brain has to make sure you idiots don’t do something stupid.” He says, when you ask.

- that night ends up being one of the funniest nights of your life. the three of you are high as a kite, and everything is funny. seriously, you can’t stop laughing!

- then, you find out Bakugou’s birthday is on 4/20, and you have never been so excited in your life (so you say). it’s the funniest, most ironic thing to you

- you go up to Bakugou, grabbing both his arms by the biceps, and are going on and on about it, bouncing on the balls of your feet and giggling, and Bakugou just listens to you talk and he blushes

- you’re adorable, and he can’t lie to himself anymore, he likes you. he really likes you. and this realization really freaks him out (he calls Kirishima later that night absolutely freaking out, and he has to totally calm him down. Kiri ships it)

- over the next month or two, he tries his best to not give himself away, but it’s so hard.

- he starts sticking around when everyone smokes together, and sitting next to you during movie nights (because you always fall asleep, and theres a good 80% chance you end up leaning on his shoulder), and he offers to help when you complain about a class you’re struggling with

- and it all comes to a head one night when he gets jealous.

- he was definitely reading too much into things, but he swears you’re acting clingy with Sero, leaning on his shoulder, and grabbing his arm when you laugh, and playing with his hair. he definitely has himself convinced Sero is making a move on you, and he’s pissed.

- at some point during the hangout, he gets up and storms out of the room, and no one really notices but you and Kiri. after a minute or two you’re curiosity gets the best of you, so you go after him

- he’s in the kitchen, glaring at this plant Denki and Sero have (that is totally, 100% dying, and probably can’t be saved) and he’s pouting

“I don’t think staring at it is gonna bring it back to life.” You say, and he just looks at you weird and asks what you want

- you say you’re just checking on him, and he asks why you care. and you’re just like dude ??? i care about you? hello? we’re friends ??

- and Bakugou, being himself, snaps at you and makes some kind of rude comment

- so you snap back, offended because you’d just wanted to check on him

- and halfway through you telling him what a jerk he is, he kisses you

- he kisses you like his life depends on it, because he’s still pissed off about Sero and, come on, Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t do anything halfway

- and maybe the two of you make out in the kitchen for way longer than you want to admit

- and maybe you laugh and call him an idiot when he tells you he was jealous of Sero

- and maybe Denki catches the two of you, and screams like a little girl on christmas morning

- cue protective Denki and Sero telling Bakugou he better not EVER hurt you... and then crying happy tears a minute later because you’re so cute together

- after that, Bakugou is literally never seen without you by his side. he walks you to class, cooks you dinner at least once a week, helps you study and takes you out every time you ace a test. this man knows your coffee order, and has your schedule memorized, it’s impressive

- god forbid he see’s you eating junk food

- listen, he knows how Denki and Sero eat when they get the munchies, okay, and that is absolutely not allowed. this man is such a simp behind closed doors, he will literally make you homemade snacks for when you go smoke with the guys.

- he’s not the greatest with words, okay, but he loves you and he shows it through small things like that. he’s always pushing you to do your best, and bragging about you, and doing little things to remind you how much he cares

- he’s also a little over protective, but he means well, and cmon it’s kinda cute when he get’s jealous, sometimes

- but overall you guys are just the cutest couple. like the bakusquad is absolutely obsessed. (you make Bakugou soft, but don’t tell him they said that)

- and sure you fight over little things every once in a while, but you learn how to handle Bakugou’s attitude quick, and it never lasts too long.

- if you do have a big fight, you take a step back and let each other cool down, and then you make Bakugou talk it out. he hates it at first, because sharing his feelings is so not something he wants to do, but it does help and he knows it.

- if, on the rare occasion, the two of you have a bad fight you can’t resolve on your own, therapist Kiri is there to save the day

Bonus:

- now, let’s get down to the whole reason i made this au in the first place

- the first time the two of you celebrate his birthday after getting together, he makes it clear that the day of he just wants to spend it with you

- so the weekend closest to his bday, the whole squad goes out and celebrates, but when it comes to his actual bday? Bakugou has a surprise for YOU

- you show up to his apartment, not really knowing what to expect, and this man pulls out a pan of brownies

- yeah, those brownies

- turns out, he and Sero used to sell them in high school

“What? Sero already sold, and I can cook, so we just... did it. It was good money.”

“How could you keep this from me?! Have I told you recently that I adore you?”

He just laughs, “You’re such a dork.”

- so you have the PLEASURE of getting high with Bakugou for the first time

- and let me just tell you, you’re in for a treat

- Bakugou. is. so. clingy. as soon as it hits, you know, because he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap

- he’s speaking so softly?? and he’s just relaxed, and content with holding you and talking about anything and everything, just cuddling with music in the background

- high! makeout sessions! with Bakugou! that’s it, that’s literally it. he is INSATIABLE

- the man just wants to kiss you, for hours, okay? give him what he wants!!

- he used to get super paranoid, that’s why he doesn’t smoke much, but with you he’s calm and comfortable, and not anxious

- it becomes tradition to make brownies on both of your birthdays, and you look forward to it all year

- and every once in a while, Bakugou will smoke with the squad, and they quickly learn that he can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s high. they tease him relentlessly, and Sero and Denki definitely have asked him (aka whined to him) to stop hogging all your attention

- also, he definitely lights the bowl for you, because he is a gentlemen

- shotgun kisses. yup. that’s all I have to say.

before I get carried away again, this is the end. Thank you for reading! I literally can’t get enough of this au I’m in love with it!! I’ll be writing more of this au soon, hopefully, and my requests are open!!

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH.

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy.

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty.

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous.

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line.

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying.

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit.

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.”

Great. Already rambling.

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm.

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised.

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name.

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it.

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit.

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited.

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little 📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as.

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down.

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to.

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more.

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note.

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her.

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends.

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting.

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful.

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to.

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already.

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out.

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault.

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it?

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying.

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story.

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy.

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery.

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek.

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked.

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit.

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this.

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck.

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal.

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing.

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion.

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up.

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this.

At least, that was until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

Text

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Slasher Victorian AU series Featuring Brahms Heelshire.

Divider by https://firefly-graphics.tumblr.com/

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 1

Prompt: 79

Brahms taps his foot under his large, dark oak desk. He taps his pencil on a stack of papers, legal documents for his clients, ranging from the mundane like Mr. Krueger complaining about his neighbor Mr. Voorhees, ranging from 'standing there, menacingly' to ' He breathed in my direction.' To the extreme as an abuse case against a young vulnerable girl named Carrie.

Brahms pinches the bridge of his nose, the paper in front of him the most important and he was to not be paid for solving the problem. He picks up the paper to re-read the sections that stuck out the most.

We are advising you on your son, Lawrence, we regret to inform you of his wild, ruckus-filled behavior. We understand that young boys have a degree of tomfoolery to them but he, Lawrence, is turning out to be one who fancies himself an urchin.

Brahms grunts, eyes scanning the page,

He recently had put candy, that was similar in appearance to the headmistresses medication.

Brahms chuckles,

He also has set up a boxing club. He charges the boys a pence a piece for admittance and takes bets against the two boys fighting.

Brahms bit his lip, his cheeks turning pink. He clears his throat as a co-worker glances his way.

His face fell as he re-read the final line.

If these behaviors fail to be corrected over the upcoming break, we recommend a crammer school for young Lawrence.

Brahms slams the paper down on the desk, he leans back in his chair, gripping the arm of the chair, "Crammer school" he seethes. Brahms made a vow to Gerti, to never let their son end up at such a place, he was to be a gentleman and a gentleman comes from a gentlemanly background. Not a Crammer school for the slow and sluggish, a Gentleman's brute offspring to be fed into the army for slaughter.

"Any plans for the night?"

Brahms snaps his head towards his co-worker, Mr. Bates.

"Any plans for the night, Brahms? Taking the maid out for another moving picture?" Mr. Bates grins and nudges Brahms's shoulder with his elbow.

"Ah, no, she's been," Brahms twirls the pencil in his fingers, "Busy."

Brahms glances at his desk, the picture of his late wife and son.

Mr. Bates's eyes follow Brahms's, "You know, I'm sure Gerti doesn't mind. Lawrence adored her, yes, I'm sure that boy is dying for a new one," He rests his clammy hand on Brahms's shoulder, "After all, a boy's best friend is his mother."

Brahms recoils, "By God, Norman, listen to yourself," Brahms brushes off Norman's hand as he stands, "A Boy needs friends his own age," He grabs his important papers, stacking them loosely, he yanks his briefcase from under the desk to slam it on his desk, "Not a mother as a friend."

You gleefully prepare the ginger beer, the old beige and brown bottles embedded with the Heelshire name. You scan the current bottle in your hands, "1771" you read aloud, "My goodness."

You delicately place the plates on the table, humming as you admired the beautiful set. "This costs more than one week's wage." Another tentative glance, "Which is why..." You twirl in the drawing-room, "I'm getting another job!"

Your mind raced back to last week...

The carriage ride was bumpy, every bump from a pothole to a large rock made your already uneasy stomach flip.

"Almost there, miss!" The coach called out to you, "Sorry for the ride, Daniel has made a donation to get the road fix, beautiful ain't it?"

"Yes, that's very kind of him." You opened the flyer in your hand, you read the bold letters over the top,

Apple Pickers wanted weekend work. Only at Daniel Candy's Farm

"Tis nice of him to hire those with no work history or those already with a job, ain't it?"

"Yes, that's very kind of him." You repeated. You brought your attention to the upcoming estate, the large white manor stood out among the hues of greens, from the grass to the pine and oak trees in a neat line leading to the entrance of the manor.

The coachman helped you out of the carriage, "Now, miss, memba' to curtsey and all that."

"Thank you, and thank you for being so kind."

"I only hire the best."

Your breath caught in your throat, eye bugged out to the tall man who appeared to appear as if from nowhere. You looked up, the source of the voice, the deep baritone still carried itself within you.

"My coachman, I only hire the best, shall you prove me right?" His voice was like thick honey, his onyx eyes were warm, his hand was large with not a hint of labor upon it.

You froze, swallowed a hesitant hello, hand reached for his, "It's is very nice to meet you," His hand melded in yours, his thumb rubbed the back of your hand in small delicate circles, "Mr. Robitaille"

"Daniel works just fine." He flashed a bright smile, his eyes twinkled as they stared into yours.

"Daniel," you bite your lip, "It's nice to meet you, Daniel." and curtseyed.

He led you along a light dirt path adjacent to the abundant apple trees. The birds in the trees sang a beautiful melody, they danced between the trees, the songs becoming more jovial as you and Daniel walked.

"You'll be working for the next three weeks, Thursdays," He waved to one of the workers picking apples, "Fridays," He nodded at a male with a wheelbarrow full of apples, "and Saturdays." He placed his large hand on your upper back, "If that is alright with Mr. Heelshire?"

You squeaked at the mention of Brahms, "Ah, yes,"

"Hesitation my dear, would he not be so accepting of a free woman working where she pleases?"

You shook your head, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "It's not that, he just..."

"He doesn't know." Daniel finished for you with a knowing laugh.

You shied away from his words, eyes took in the mass of workers, happily picking apples, chatting with one other, the made it look easy being up twenty feet high on the ladder to pick the apples.

"Pray tell," Daniel removed his hand from your upper back, "Why do you need this job?"

"Well, money." You said earnestly. "I could use the extra money is all."

"For family?" He asked, accepting an apple from one of his workers. He admired the deep red color, "A gift for Mr. Heelshire?"

You wrung your hands together. You chocked in a breath, "It's private."

Daniel stopped, a low chuckle as you had noticed he stopped. He grinned as you fiddled with your fingers, face turned to the ground, a coy smile over your delicate features.

"What's his name?" Daniel stepped to you, his baritone sent a shiver down your spine. "I'd like to hear it be spoken from such shy lips." Daniel rolled the apple in his hand, nudged it towards you, gesturing for you to take it.

You hesitated, your hands shook as you tentatively grabbed the apple. You stared at the red fruit, the color deep and rich, "His name is Daniel Cain, well, Dan, he goes by Dan."

A startled laugh erupted from Daniel. You jumped, eyes darted to the workers around you, their eyes fell upon Daniel. "Do tell, does this Dan Cain happen to be studying at University of London?"

You stammered out, "Yes,"

"How admirable. So tell me, a gift for the young man?"

"No, it's." You roll the apple in your hand, you looked up at Daniel, "A new dress, I wish to look beautiful, well," You grimaced, "At least while with him."

Daniel frowned, his hand reached for yours, you gasped as he held firm, "Pardon for being cliche, but you are already beautiful, How your hair shines in the sun, to how the sun lights up your eyes, your timid nature is quite endearing." He winked at you.

"Come," Daniel gestured, "I shall introduce you to Carrie, she'll be your site boss for the next three weeks."

You jump from the front door slams open, Brahms shouting as he entered, "Please come to the foyer, my love."

You cringe, the nickname spills so easily from him, saying it like it was second nature, "Yes, Sir, be there soon."

"This instant, my love. I need you here."

Your eyes linger on the half-set table, too busy with your dancing and reminiscing to fully finish your job. "Coming, Sir!"

You walk out of the drawing-room, feet picking up pace as you make your way down the narrow hall, the green carpet embroidered with gold string, bought in Egypt, fairly recently. The walls a dark wood, matching the soil in the garden. The small lamps light up the hallway in a yellow hue. The walls lined with portraits of Heelshires past, their eyes unnerved you with every quick walkthrough you made through the hallway.

Brahms sighs and lets his shoulders relax as you step into view. He removes his jacket, tossing it on the coat rack, "Are the Victorian sandwiches done? Is the Ginger Beer ready?" He asks while loosening his tie, his adam's apple bobbed, "Hm?"

You wince "I was a little distracted, I'm terribly sorry, Sir."

"Brahms, we've been over this, my love, you may call me Brahms."

"Sorry, Brahms." You choke out his name, "Is there anything you need of me at this moment?" You place a warm smile over your face, eyes looking at him as he took off his custom-made shoes.

"Is it so bad for a man to want a woman to greet him when he's come after a hard day's work?" His bright smile made rock in place, heart thumping rapidly in your chest. "You know how good it feels to see your warm face as I get home?"

"I can't say I do." You answer earnestly.

"Do you not feel a sense of joy as I come home?"

You squint your eyes, gaze adverting his, you cough "Yes, I do." You look back at him, "I am simply your maid, Si-Brahms." You gesture to him to follow you down the hall, "I feel great joy when I see you come home to your...home."

"Our home. This place is just as much mine as it is yours." Brahms steps in front of you, gesturing for you to follow him. "You sleep here, eat here, are here every weekend..." He glances at the paintings in the dimly lit hall, "I mean, you must like it if you are here in your free time."

You flinch, nails scratching in the back of your hand, "Uhm, Yes."

Brahms reaches the table as he stares back at you, his eyes narrow, "Sit." He pulls out the ornate chair, his hand padding down the expensive leather, "Enjoy lunch with me."

You smooth your dress from behind as you sit, scooting up as he pushed you closer to the table. Brahms rounded the table, a jovial smile as he sat himself across from you, delicately placing a napkin on his lap.

"Now, how has your day been?" He starts, shoving a victoria sandwich in his mouth, rolling his eyes in ecstasy, "Mhm, my love this is delicious, you outdid yourself."

You giggle, shaking your head, "No, Brahms it's nothing. Just same old same old."

"You sell yourself too short." Brahms clears his throat, "This weekend," He wiped his hands of crumbs, "My son is coming home, he hasn't been excelling at school like he should be," He took a sip of the ginger beer, an approving smile after he gulped, "So I shall be sending him to a nearby crammer school."

You nod, "I'm sure in the end it'll work out for the best." He sips the beer, letting the taste linger on your tongue, "After all, probably be for the best he comes back home. I can imagine boarding school can be isolating after a death," You froze, eyes wide in panic as you glance at Brahms, "I'm so sorry." You place down the glass of beer.

Brahms laughs, the corner of his lips pulling up, "No no, don't be sorry, it's very true." He sips again, "Very true. Ever since Gerti crossed onto the other side, little Lawrence has been lost." He coughs, "He'll be more than thrilled to be home, hid loving father, his second favourite lady ready to greet him with open arms."

"This weekend?" you ask, "This Saturday?"

Brahms stills, his eyes squint, "Yes, I already said this weekend."

Your throat constricts, a burning sensation spreads throughout you. You look away, eyes catching on the ornate couch.

Brahms reaches his hand out to you, his thumb running on the back of your hand, "My love, what?" He raises his brow, leaning in, "What's the problem with Saturday?"

"I have something private to attended to." You state, eyes falling back to his, "I won't be here to greet Lawrence." You swallow, the burning searing through you, "I'm terribly sorry."

Brahms stood up, one stride and he was at your side, "Tell, why won't you be there? It mustn't be family matters, they live awfully far away, days by train." He leans in, "Something in town perhaps?"

You nod with a smile, "I shall be away this coming Friday and days thereafter, a flower picking job just a town over, the lady of the manor is allowing me room and board, very sweet of her." You sip more ginger beer, hands shaking as you brought the glass to your chapped lips.

Brahms places his large hand on your upper back, "Flower picking job?"

"Yes."

"What flower?"

"Excuse me?"

"What flower are you picking?" Brahms leans in closer to you, his other hand resting on the table, "I'm sure you know."

You grin at him, "Narcissus, beautiful flowers." You gulp back more ginger beer.

"That's a nice flower. Beautiful." He leans in closer, his eyes holding a critical glint. "Pray tell, how will you be picking a flower out of season?" He smiles down at you, licking his teeth, his hand clenches around yours. Your mouth agape, breath held. You choke as he leans closer to you, "I know apples are in season."

The air felt thick, the air from your lungs fell from your mouth in rapid breaths, the grandfather clock ticked, each one was felt in your spine. You jump as the grandfather clock thunders out his five pm chime.

You breathe in, "It's only for three weekends," You start, "No more than that."

Brahms chuckles, his fingers pressing into your back, "No more than that...why?" He rests his elbow on the table, chin in his palm, "Why the work when I could easily up your pay."

Your lips in a tight line, eyes dry, bugging out as you stare into his, "Savings." You lie.

Brahms slides his arm around your shoulder, his bicep flexing on the back of your neck, his hand running up and down your arm. He leans into your ear, "If by savings, do you mean Dan?"

#Brahms heelshire #Brahms x reader #Brahms x you #Brahms imagine #Brahms heelshire x reader #Brahms heelshire x you #Brahms heelshire imagine #Female reader #sfw #Candyman #daniel robitaille #Victorian era #Victorian AU #edwardian era #Dain Cain

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wetforbritishactors123 · 3 years

Text

Over Emotional (Draco X Reader)

Requested: Yes

Request: Youre 6 months pregnant and ever since draco found out that your are expecting he has been determined to be Working from home and lately he has been so stressed and snappy with you because of the work load he has and one day you were feeling over emotional and just wanted to be with draco, so you went to his office and asked him if he could stop working for little while and come cuddle with you and you hear him sigh and he says he can't, he's super busy and you start to feel a horrible pain in your chest and tears build up as you say to him "you never have time to spend with me anymore" and he snaps back at you and tells you to stop being over emotional, he will be in bed with you later when he is finished working, and you look at him with tears falling and say I don't want to see you for the rest of the night and storm off to find the furtherest away room from yours and dracos room and being in the manor was easy, you eventually find a little room hidden in the back of the manor and curl up in bed and silently cry yourself to sleep, draco walks back to your room and expects to see you waiting for him as usual but your aren't there, he crawls into bed holding your pillow but it isn't the same and he goes on his way to find you feeling sorry for himself, after he eventually finds you, he crawls into bed and pulls you close to him and whispers how sorry he is and how much he needs you beside him and he promises that he won't be working for a while now

Warnings: Possibly some spelling errors

Words: 1000+

...................................

For 6 months you have been blessed with a growing life inside of you, you and your husband were both so happy when you found out of your pregnancy. Your husband Draco, wanted to be there with every step in this journey, so he brought work home. When Draco first started to work from home, it felt like everything fell into place. You were happily with your husband and your unborn child in the big old manor, spending quality time together. Sounds like a dream, right?

As time passed Draco began to seclude himself in his office, suffocating himself with work. You just wanted to spend time with him, but every time you asked to spend time together it was always the same thing, “Just give me five more minutes.” Those 5 minutes never came…

You missed your Draco, where he would hold you close and whisper his undying love for you into your ear. Where you’d both sway to the rhythm of the rain clashing onto the ceiling. Or how you’d wake up in his arms. Now you were only waking up to an empty mattress.

You were lonely in bed, it was 3am and you couldn’t stop tossing and turning. You wanted Draco to hold you in his arms as you 2 would drift away into a peaceful sleep. You carefully got out of bed and slipped onto your slippers before making the journey to your husband’s study.

The door was open and there you saw your husband, browsing over a file. You walked up to the door frame and knocked on it, ”Hey babe, watcha doin?” You ask.

He didn’t even look up to look at you as he was focusing on his papers. “Work”, he mumbled. You let out a breath, “Why don’t you go to bed, babe? I’ve been wanting to cuddle with you for weeks now.”

He continued to study his paperwork, this time writing some notes,”I can’t, I’m busy.”

You leaned against the door frame and placed a hand on your round stomach,”Come on, Draco. You’ve been working too much, come and go cuddle with me!”

Draco lifted up his head and looked at you, he looked like a tornado had hit him. His hair was an unruly mess and his eyes had dark bags underneath. “I said I can’t. ” He repeated.

“Come on Draco, you never spend time with me anymore. I miss you.” You say, trying to convince him to take a break.

“I said I can’t, I’ll be in there once I’m done working!” He snapped before returning to his papers. You looked at him with teary eyes, you didn’t mean to start to tear up but due to your pregnancy, it only made you more emotional. You let the tears cascade down your cheeks. “I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night!” You seethed before storming away.

You didn’t want to go back to your and Draco’s room, you didn’t want the constant reminder that you’d most likely wake up alone again in the morning. So you decided to sleep in the furthest room away from your room. You walked your way through the manor while the tears caressed your cheeks. You finally approached the room, you walked into it and laid down on the bed. You hugged tightly onto the pillow as you soaked it with your tears until you fell asleep.

Draco walked out of his study, feeling terrible for being the reason for your tears. He quietly walked towards your room and opened the door, walking into it. Expecting to see you in the bed, he saw you weren’t in bed. A giant wave of guilt washed over him, he made his pregnant wife cry and sleep in a different room. Draco let a tear escape, you were right. He hasn’t spent any time with you, he felt like a shitty person. He walked out of the room to look for you. Draco checked the whole manor before stumbling across the room you were sleeping in.

He walked quietly into the room and laid in the bed, he carefully maneuvered your body into his arms. He had one of his arms around your shoulder as one was rubbing your baby bump. “Draco?” You whispered as your eyes began to open, slowly.

“Shhhhhh,” Draco shushed, soothingly “Go back to sleep.”

You nodded before snuggling deeper into his chest, “M’sorry for bugging you”, you mumbled into his chest.

“You shouldn’t apologize,” he said as running his fingers through your hair,”I was a jerk, I made you cry.”

“Babe, I’m just over-emotional because of the pregnancy”, You started,” Yesterday I even cried over a pickle jar.” You sleepily giggled at the memory.

“A pickle jar?” He questioned with a sleepy smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was tryna open it but I couldn’t, but it turned out I was twisting the lid the wrong way and-” You rambled into a peaceful sleep.

Draco looked down to you, you were asleep peacefully against his chest. He smiled at the sight before kissing the top of your head, “Goodnight, my love.” He said before rubbing your baby bump,”Goodnight, my little bean. Daddy loves you.”

………………………...

You woke up to an empty bed and sighed. He probably had to do work, you thought before climbing out of bed. You sadly walked out of the bedroom and made your way to the kitchen. As you entered the kitchen you were greeted by your husband who was at the stove. “I thought you went back to work.” You said.

“Work can wait, I want to spend time with you.” He said, ”So why not start the day with some pancakes?”

You smiled,”Pancakes?” He smiled back.

“Pancakes.” He nodded before turning back to the stove in order to flip one. As you waited for breakfast, you smiled, you were so lucky to have a husband that could make you smile, to make you laugh, and to make you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

You loved Draco Malfoy and he loved you too, you were blessed to have this small family with the man you love.

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Requests Open

#draco x you #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco fic #draco x y/n #draco fanfiction

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bootleg-sara · 2 years

Text

Holy FRICK guess who finally has some actual work to show for the purgatory au. Got the first batch of many for all the character reference sheets! This one featuring the star of the show, Isaac Moriah, and his best friend Lazarus.

I do have a little something planned to go along with every batch of characters, which will come out in due time. For now how about we learn a bit more about these two funny fellows

Character bios and more doodles in undercut!

Ended up being longer than expected lol

Isaac: voice claim- milomumbles

There’s no better way to start off than to start with the main character, right? Isaac is a shy, reserved young man. Never been one to stick out from the crowd and never wanted to either. He’s perfectly fine hanging out by himself, drawing away in a little sketchbook he always has on him. Home life has always been shaky at best. Whether it be the messy divorce or his mother’s strict enforcement of her beliefs, Isaac can’t seem to get a break. When particularly stressed, he’ll retreat to the basement which has been renovated to be an extra bedroom for him. All that he has down there is an old mattress, desk, and his dad’s left behind chest. It’s small but homey. Most importantly it’s secluded, as his mother rarely ever goes down there like she does with his bedroom. The only company he needs is his lovable cat Guppy.

Isaac is messy, terribly so. He can keep up appearances well enough and his room is as tidy as can be. But the basement he hangs out in is a disaster. Random items and stuffed animals scattered everywhere. You’ll find plenty of paper littering the floor as well. Any school notes he has are just as unorganized and barely readable. Though his poor handwriting isn’t all his own fault. Being forced to primarily use your right hand when the left is more comfortable will do that to you.

All and all, Isaac tries his hardest to be a good, respectable person past his crippling anxieties. He’s super chatty once he gets to know you better and has quite the sense of humor. Sure it’ll take him awhile but he’s willing to give it the old college try. Just try to not push him too far out of his personal boundaries or he’ll go right back to that comfortable shell of his.

Lazarus: voice claim - Once Bitten Twice Shy by Great White / Everything About You by Ugly Kid Joe

(Can’t choose which one matches him best, but Lazarus definitely has a raspy voice)

Lazarus is an opposite to Isaac in many ways. Outgoing with a love for trying new things. He has a natural understanding of people and is very sociable. He’s much more optimistic than Isaac too, not hardened by the worst life has to offer. There’s nothing Lazarus enjoys more than a good self-contained journey in the wildness. Though only when he has good friends to come along with him as he despises being alone for long periods of time. Lazarus is very explorative of himself, whether it be trying new clothes or experiences. Of course he has his favorites, like his love for bugs. Occasionally he’ll play some video games, but those are reserved for when he is bored alone at home or hanging out with Isaac.

Lazarus has his own pet, an Arizona Blonde Tarantula named Sissy. It’s kept in his room in his closet because his parents are terrified of it. He loves his little spider friend to death and will show her off at any opportunity. You’ll be hard pressed to find Lazarus anywhere but in the outdoors looking at all the little bugs skittering along the ground. His dream job is to be an entomologist; outdoors, studying all kinds of bugs, what more could a dude want?

His passion for life is only held back by his own insecurities. Most of his freckles are sun moles according to him, and he hates having unclear skin. The brimming confidence he has for himself and his beliefs stem from an inner stubbornness rather than true self love. Though that certainly isn’t stopping him from being vocal on his thoughts. Only Isaac knows of how deep these thoughts really go, as he’s the only person Lazarus trusts with them. It’s a slow process of finding himself, but Lazarus is positive he’s going in the right direction.

What’s their relationship like?

Wanted to get more in depth about their friendship, so here you go. One last part briefly going over just that.

On the surface it’s hard to believe the two of them are as close of friends as they are. A shy, pessimistic person who'd rather stay in his home, and the go-getter, optimistic kid with a desire to see the world. And at first you’d be right too. They vaguely knew of each other as their families both go to the same church every Sunday. But it was never more than that. Lazarus always had an eye for Isaac, being the “mysterious older kid in the grade above”. But with how avoidant Isaac is (especially while at church) there was never a good time to talk to him. Though after a big fight between Isaac’s mom and dad after a service nearly destroyed Isaac’s small social standing, Lazarus finally bit the bullet. The initial start up was rocky, but now the two of them are inseparable.

They live within walking distance from one another and frequently visit each other. Most days are spent at Lazarus’ place, being a middle class family with less strict parents as opposed to Isaac’s financially struggling Christian-first household. Lazarus often pulls Isaac around school with his own friend groups. Isaac doesn’t mind this too much as it gets him a bit more active with what goes around around him. Pretty much all of Isaac’s social connections come from Lazarus.

A pair of goofy, fun loving bros that can light up a room when they’re both together. Isaac enjoys his company, letting Lazarus ramble on about whatever is on his mind. Isaac gets some nice background noise while he works on his own things. They’re both very passionate people, and can talk for hours if left undisturbed. Friends until the bitter end.

~~~~

Phew this has been a long time coming. Finally being able to share more of my work is such a wonderful feeling and I can’t wait to share more!

There is a little bonus in the form of a short I’m going to be posting along with each batch of character refs. They’re going to help set up the main setting of the au as well as see the character interactions in action. I am working on Isaac and Lazarus’ right now, and the first part should be coming out soon if I can get myself to work on it this week.

The only character who isn’t going to be getting one is the next batch with Blue Baby and The Lost. It’ll make a bit more sense once I get it out. The Lost will still get something just for him.

See you all in the next post!

#purgatory au #tboi #binding of isaac #the binding of isaac #tboi isaac #tboi lazarus #eeeee I’m so excited to have something official out for the au!!!!#idk why I decided to put a voice claim for everyone because it’s been hell trying to find matching voices lmao #Lazarus’s voice is such a crapshoot I could find nothing for him

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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

Text

Helplessly, Hopelessly

Cutting it a little close to the deadline, but here’s my entry for @levihan-drabbles Angst Monday! My prompt was: Levi and Hange are in an established long distance relationship, Levi surprises Hange by showing up right before midnight on New Year's Eve.

Once again, I got a little carried away :’) it’s not my favourite thing I’ve written this week but it’s done ahaha, please enjoy! And a HUGE thank you to the mods for running this whole thing, it’s been a lot of fun actually writing again.

Warnings: mentions of cheating (but I’m a big ol’ levihan sucker so worry not), body weight, anxiety/depression

It took him three attempts to knock. He even considered turning back and trying to change his flight, to head home and pretend this never happened, to live in blissful, agonising ignorance over Hange’s sudden, disinterested quiet. It was shameful, that he’d rather keep Hange ostensibly his than face any outcome where he lost them.

Levi hadn’t intended on turning up quite so last minute.

His flight was supposed to land at noon, which would have given him ample time to make his way over to Hange’s part of the city. But the weather had not been in his favour—his first flight had been delayed due to intermittent snowstorms, the chill air so thick with snow, Levi could barely see his own hand in front of his face. In consequence, he had missed his connecting flight by well over an hour, and spent the majority of his evening sitting on the floor in the overcrowded airport, surrounded by his bags, sipping piss-water tea and waiting for the next available flight taking off to London.

It had been almost eight months since he had last seen Hange in person, and even then, they hadn’t spent nearly enough time together. Hange had returned home only briefly to attend their grandmother's funeral. Levi had seen them at the service, and they’d snagged a few hours together between family engagements and the regular study periods Hange had set aside for themself during their stay, but it felt rushed, lacking. Hange had seemed flustered, then. They had confessed that their studies were proving a lot more demanding than they had initially anticipated, that they were tired. That they were beginning to feel a little burnt out, but they had no time to take any substantial break without getting too far behind to catch up again.

Levi missed them. He and Hange had, from early in their childhood up until Hange left for university, spent almost every waking second in one another's company. It was impossible to recall a time when they weren’t together, excluding a handful of miserable periods during which Hange’s family had whisked them away on some holiday or other while Levi sat in his mothers tea shop and made himself as useful as any child could.

They had grown together, through school, through their awkward, angsty teenage phases, through Hange’s stuttering realisation that gender and sexuality were incredibly confusing things, and they had no idea where they stood on either spectrum. They had tried alcohol together for the first time, tried holding hands, tried kissing and fumbling with clumsy, nervous, eager hands in Hange’s old treehouse, a touch too small for two grown teenagers, but just big enough.

They had been each other's first partners, in every sense of the term. The progression, Levi remembers, had felt equal parts strange and yet completely natural. Expected. He and Hange fell into step with the same absent simplicity as breathing; it took little thought and even less effort, to love Hange as more than a friend.

And then, Hange left for university, and Levi stayed behind to help his mother with the shop. And things had still been easy, in a way. Hange was only a phone call away, and they made sure to call or text at least once a day, even if they only had the time to spare for a quick good morning or good night or did you shower? I can smell you from here or I love you, too.

It was okay. Not ideal, but manageable. But in the last few months, Hange’s texts had grown infrequent. They were busy, they’d told him. Too many deadlines, not enough time. They would get back to him when they could.

They never did.

It was always up to Levi to reach out, and Hange, to their credit, was always incredibly apologetic about the time elapsing between points of contact—I completely forgot, Levi! I’m so sorry. Now isn’t a good time though, I promise I’ll call you back when I get a minute?

Levi had tried to reason that they probably were busy. But there were terrible, guilty, nagging doubts, and they had only grown more as time went on, as Hange’s texts and calls dribbled down to almost nothing.

It wasn’t that Levi didn’t trust Hange. He did, implicitly so. But they are young. A young couple from a small town, where a handful of kids their age are all they’ve ever known. And suddenly Hange was living in the big city, surrounded by like minded people—people who were astronomically smart, academically driven, who shared Hange’s interests. Who could do more than just listen while they chatted endlessly about plants or bugs or the vastness of the ocean, the movement of the Earth’s crust, the stars, the atmosphere in outer space, anything and everything that caught their interest. Levi had never been able to keep up, could only lend an ear and let Hange ramble until they were spent.

But they would meet people now, who could match them word for word and raise them facts they’d never even heard before. People Hange could have discussions with, debates with. People who could engage with Hange in a way Levi could never even hope to. The thought of it made his stomach hurt, and it crossed his mind too often, a guilty little echo in the back of his head every time Hange was too busy to talk to him. Every time his texts went unanswered.

And so, he had dipped into his savings and, with a little help from his mother, had bought a ticket to surprise Hange with a visit on New Years Eve. His mother assured him it was a sweet idea—romantic, she’d said, which had made Levi flush and scowl—but in truth, Levi had only decided on surprising Hange with the visit in fear that they wouldn’t want him to come, if he told them he planned on it.

Now, he was stuck navigating an endless network of underground trains, staring hopelessly at the maps on his phone and trying to figure out which line he needed to be on to make his way out to Hange’s apartment. It was already 11pm. Levi felt drained, his back and shoulders aching from carrying his luggage. The weather was cold and wet, the streets lined with slush that splashed up his legs and soaked into his shoes as he walked, and by the time he made it to what he hoped was Hange’s apartment building, an icy rain had started to fall, soaking into his pants and running in great rivulets from his coat.

He paused at the entrance. There was no keypad on the door, no way to buzz up to Hange’s room to get them to let him inside. He could ring them, but it had been weeks since Hange had answered his calls. Levi groaned, huddling under the small canopy above the door. It offered little shelter from the rain, and no barrier at all to the biting chill of the wind.

Levi had resolved to at least trying to call Hange when, by a stroke of luck he hadn’t thought possible today, the door opened, and three rather drunk and incredibly underdressed people tumbled out. They apologised to him as they stumbled by, but had the decency—or else the stupidity, Levi thought—to hold the door open for him. He thanked them quietly and slipped inside.

Hange’s apartment was on the third floor. Levi took the lift, which clattered ominously as it crawled four stories before shuddering to a stop. Levi’s stomach churned as he stepped out into the quiet hallway. There was a bubble of excitement, a thrill at the prospect of seeing Hange again after such a long time, but more than that, he felt nervous. He had no back up plan if Hange couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accommodate him. He wasn’t sure he had the money for a hotel even for a night or two, and he had optimistically booked his return flight for seven days’ time. If Hange had really changed their mind about him, about them, he had no idea what he would do.

Marking this off as one of his worst ideas to date, he dragged his luggage down the hall until he found apartment 3C.

But he was here now. He had made his bed, and he would lie in it, whatever the outcome turned out to be. He rapped three times on the door, and waited.

And waited. And waited.

His mind wandered back to the party-goers he had passed in the doorway. It was New Year's Eve, and Hange was in university. It hadn’t crossed his mind that they might have plans, since he and Hange had always spent the night together, before now. But Hange couldn’t have anticipated Levi’s appearance; it would make sense, if they had taken one night off to enjoy themselves. Pass the occasion away with friends. With someone special, even. Someone who wasn’t him. Levi’s gut turned unpleasantly at the thought.

Lost in his musings, Levi almost missed the door opening. He blinked dazedly, took in the figure in the doorway, and his stomach dropped.

There was a man standing there. Taller than Levi, with a mop of light hair and a sweet, open face, wearing a somewhat rumpled, baggy shirt and a pair of threadbare sweatpants. He took in Levi’s appearance with a startled expression. Levi swallowed hard, mouth dry, tongue thick behind his teeth.

“I’m looking for Hange,” he said. Cleared his throat. “Are they home?”

The man jumped at the sound of Levi’s voice. He rallied himself well enough, then nodded, and turned to call over his shoulder, “Hange? There’s someone at the door for you.”

Levi mumbled his thanks. He felt lightheaded, heart thudding in his chest. For a moment he and the strange man simply looked at each other, until he heard a familiar voice from inside saying, “Moblit? If it’s Nanaba, tell her to go away. I already said I’m not going.”

“Not Nanaba,” Moblit called back. Levi heard the shuffle of footsteps, and then Moblit stepped aside, and he was face to face with Hange.

It seemed to take them a second to register who he was. Their tired eyes landed on him, bloodshot and bruised purple behind their glasses. Levi watched slowly as realisation dawned on them. Their eyes grew wide, lips—dry, cracked—parted in surprise, and their skin, already sickly looking, paled further. Levi’s gaze darted to Moblit over their shoulder and back again. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words would come. Blood pounded in his ears.

He never should have come. He had thought he was prepared for any eventuality, ready to accept that Hange might have found some happiness in somebody else. Ready to let them go. It would be painful, he knew; it’d suck, more than anything. But he had thought he was ready for that.

In front of Hange now, staring the prospect in the face, Levi realised he was terribly mistaken. He could not have anticipated how sick he would feel, how dizzy; his chest felt heavy, full and leaden and yet hollow all the same. The most painful kind of emptiness. He looked at Hange and tried to find something to say, but his mind was blank. He could think of nothing but Hange, and the man still standing a little way behind them, watching curiously out of the corner of his eye.

The silence was long, and dreadful. Neither Levi nor Hange spoke. Levi, for his part, couldn’t find words to say, and wouldn’t have been able to push them past the lump in his throat either way. Hange had tears welling in their eyes. They built up thick and heavy on their lash line, swimming in the light from the hallway, before spilling down their cheeks.

A terrible, bitter part of him thought that Hange had no right to cry.

And then, without any warning at all, hange launched themselves at him. Their weight hit him full in the chest, their arms winding around his back and squeezing tightly, punching the air from his lungs. Their face pressed into the side of Levi’s neck and he could feel wetness on his skin, an endless flow of tears as something wretched and agonising ripped from their throat; a sob, the heavy, desperate kind that bursts up from the gut and hacks out like a terrible cough. Again, and again, Hange sobbed, sucking jumpy, shaking breaths and crying them out again.

Instinctively, Levi’s arms came up around Hange, too. One hand carded into their hair—it felt limp and greasy and knotted between his fingers—and the other flattened against their back. Something twisted in his gut. Hange felt thin. Too thin. He could trace the knots of their spine and the ridges and valleys of their rib cage; their skin pulled taut over their shoulder blades; their hip bones dug into him where Hange had pressed themself impossibly close.

Levi’s pain was replaced abruptly by concern. He held Hange a little tighter, but they felt breakable in his arms now. Fragile. Hange had never felt so small before.

Moblit’s voice broke Levi out of his stupor. He had a kind smile on his face, though his eyes held the same worry Levi felt.

“Maybe you should come inside?” He suggested. Hange sniffled against Levi’s neck. They took a few big, gulping breaths to steady themself, pulling away, though still remaining close. Levi watched as Hange pulled the sleeve of their jumper over their hand and rubbed at their cheeks, at their eyes. Something in his chest ballooned, pressing hard against his ribs, his throat. Hange looked a complete mess. Levi felt concerned, and confused. Even still, looking at Hange now, he felt terribly certain of one thing: he loved them. Helplessly, hopelessly, he loved them.

He let Hange step out of his grip slowly. His hands lingered, slipping around their waist and down their arm, but before he could move too far away, Hange closed their fingers tight around his. Levi stared at their knotted hands, then at Hange, and wordlessly let them drag him inside.

Belatedly, Levi remembered he was drenched. He could see wet patches on Hange’s jumper where they had been pressed against him, and the chill of his wet clothes seemed to sink into his bones as he crossed over the entryway. They passed Moblit, who watched them with some intrigue, then wandered out into the hallway only to return with Levi’s luggage in tow.

Hange’s apartment was open plan, the kitchen separated from the sitting room only by a countertop. It was small, and cosy, cluttered in the way Hange’s spaces always tended to be. They kept plants on every available surface, but Levi could see that some were in desperate need of tending, with dry, shrivelling leaves and sagging stems. That wasn’t like Hange at all.

By the sofas, Hange stopped him.

“Give me your coat,” they said. Their voice still sounded thick and choked, and they sniffled pitifully, but they were no longer crying. Levi obliged them in a daze. Hange took his dripping coat and tossed it, uncaring, over one of the stools by the counter. Moblit quietly collected it and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.

“What are you even doing here?” Hange asked, sitting down and pulling on Levi’s sleeve until he dropped down beside them. “How did you get here? When?”

Levi’s eyes roved over Hange’s face. He couldn’t figure out how they felt. It was an uncomfortable realisation—Hange had always been an open book to him, easy to parse no matter what they were feeling. Now, they seemed...reserved. Subdued. Not the Hange he was used to.

“I had some savings,” Levi said slowly. He cleared his throat, debated on what level of honesty he was going to reply with, before saying, “I hadn’t heard from you in a while. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t up and died on me.”

At that, Hange’s expression grew somber. They grimaced, and Levi watched fresh tears well in their eyes. He reached for their hand without thought, and Hange gripped on tightly. Levi let his thumb brush lazily back and forth over their knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Hange said. “I’m really sorry. I just—things have been—I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Hange rubbed a hand tiredly over their face, then let their head drop onto his shoulder. They felt warm, a welcome weight against him. Levi let his cheek rest against their head, felt the tickle of their hair against his skin. Hange pressed closer, and Levi turned to nudge a kiss to their hairline.

The sound a stool scraping the floor turned Levi’s attention to Moblit. Levi shot him a look that was probably a little more murderous than intended, but fought to relax his frown at Moblit’s wide-eyed expression. Moblit scratched a little awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Would you--ah, would you like a drink of anything?”

“Tea,” Hange mumbled. “He likes tea. There’s early grey in the cupboard, I think.”

Moblit nodded, and turned quickly into the kitchen. Hange adjusted their grip on Levi’s hand, until they were palm to palm, fingers slotted loosely together. Levi could feel them taking long, measured breaths.

“I’m really sorry,” they said again. Levi half wanted to tell them to stop apologising, but—well, until he knew for certain what they were apologising for, he couldn't be sure if they really needed to say it. “I know I’ve been a little...distant, lately. I’m sorry. I kept—I wanted to get back to you, I promise I did. I wanted to talk to you more than anything, but everything is just—God, Levi. Everything is going wrong.”

Levi gave a quiet, questioning hum. He knew Hange; there was no need for him to prompt them. If Hange had something to say, they would say it whether he probed or not. He waited, and eventually, Hange let out a distressed little sound and turned their face fully into his neck.

“Everything’s...so much harder than I thought it would be. There’s so much work to do, all the time. I’m struggling to meet all the deadlines. I keep failing my tests. I’m so tired, Levi. I just want a break, but there’s no time.”

Levi unthreaded his fingers from theirs and looped his arm around their back instead. He ran his fingers lightly up and down Hange’s spine, settled his face into their hair.

This side of Hange wasn’t wholly new to him. He had seen Hange upset and overwhelmed a handful of times before, but it hurt all the same—and more still, when he considered the fact that Hange had been feeling like this for who knows how long, without him even being aware.

“You can tell me shit like this,” he said. Hange flinched a little.

“I know,” they said quietly. “I know I can. But I...you’re so far away. And I knew you’d want to help, if I told you, but travelling this far isn’t—I couldn’t ask that of you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

Levi knocked his knuckles gently to Hange’s head. “Stupid. Look how that turned out.”

Hange let out a wet laugh. “Yeah, it kinda backfired, huh? Or did it? Maybe it was a ploy to get you to come out here all along.”

Hange sounded tired. Drained. The joke was weak and hollow without the right injection of humour, but Hange, it seemed, didn’t even have the energy to pretend to sound amused. Levi gave a scoff of a laugh anyway.

“Congratulations,” he said, deadpan. “You got me.”

The conversation fell flat. He was so used to having Hange talk his ear off that the quiet between them felt awkward, stifling. Hange only breathed, long, measured breaths, while Levi held them loosely against him. Moblit pottered around in the kitchen. While Levi felt mostly certain that things between them, at least, were okay, he was still curious about Moblit’s presence—but it felt like the wrong time to ask.

As if they could read his mind, though, Hange said, “Moblit’s been helping me study for the catch-up exams.”

“Oh?”

Hange hummed. “He’s good. I think I’ll give him an aneurysm one day, though.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Oi,” Hange grumbled, digging their fingers weakly into his sides. Moblit chose that moment to come into the sitting room juggling three cups of tea. He looked a little apologetic as he handed one over to Levi, who took it with a mumbled thanks.

“I’ve been telling Hange they should speak to you,” he said. Hange made a quiet, affronted noise, lifting their head and sitting up straight to take the tea Moblit offered them. “I thought it might help if they had someone to actually talk to. I can help out with the academic stuff, but the rest…” he trailed away, and Levi caught his gaze flitting to Hange’s thin frame, then back up to Levi’s face.

“Moblit, you’re a whole traitor,” Hange said.

In unison, Levi and Moblit rolled their eyes. Hange had settled their weight against Levi’s side again, feet tucked up on the sofa next to them, and was busy glaring at Moblit over their steaming tea cup. Levi laid his hand on Hange’s knee and gave it a small squeeze.

“I like him,” Levi said. “He’s got good ideas. You should listen to him more, Hange.”

Moblit looked pleased with himself, though there was nothing smug about it. He seemed like the kind, earnest type—pair that with his intellect, and Levi wasn’t surprised at all that Hange seemed fond of him. He felt a pang of jealousy at the thought, then considered their positions; Hange was nestled into his side, had cried on his shoulder, and was holding his hand. It was petty, but Levi took some small delight in it all the same.

Hange poked out their tongue at Moblit, who wasted no time in telling them he knew he had been right. Hange struggled to find a compelling argument against him, and resorted instead to more petulant, childish gestures. Moblit looked perfectly used to the behaviour and retaliated little, only reiterated his stance and pointed out rather happily that Levi agreed with him.

The atmosphere felt warm, calm. Hange seemed, for the moment at least, something close to content, with a soft smile that almost reached their eyes. Levi felt marginally more at ease than he had done prior to coming, though Hange's current state made him anxious—but at least he understood the problem, now. He could help in the coming days, and then continue to offer whatever support the distance would allow. He determined then that he wouldn't let Hange go silent on him, that they'd come to an agreement before he left, to ensure Hange would talk to him next time.

He listened as Moblit and Hange quietly bickered over their tea. Hange's usual energy was severely lacking, their tone less volatile. There was no indignant flush of colour to their cheeks and the shine in their eyes was dull, subdued. But they were no longer crying. No longer on the brink of breaking. Levi would take that, for now.

The three of them were startled suddenly by the loud crack and boom of fireworks outside. The sky lit up in vibrant colour, flashing and receding in tandem with each bang and pop and fizz that rent the air. For a moment, they all paused. Hange and Moblit turned to look out the window, while Levi—sappy, hopeless fool that he was, could only look at Hange. The light played across their pale face, glinting from their glasses, filling out the hollows of their cheeks and their sunken eyes until they looked almost whole again. Levi gave their hand a small squeeze. Hange's gaze remained glued to the sky, but they squeezed back just as hard.

Moblit was the first to speak, when the light show came to an end. He checked his watch, then looked up and smiled.

"Happy New Year."

Levi blinked. He had all but forgotten the day and the time, too wrapped up in his concern for Hange. He turned to look at them, and found Hange watching him already. Now, they had some colour—a light blush of pink on the apple of each cheek. Levi's heart stuttered in his chest. They'd been together for long enough, had years of sure kisses and even more stray ones, and yet, every damn time, the prospect of kissing Hange made his palms sweat, his chest tighten with giddy, childish excitement.

“Another year without breaking tradition,” Hange said, a little breathlessly. Levi felt gratified to know that Hange seemed just as affected as he did. “You made it right on time.”

Hange kissed him as softly as ever. Levi's hand braced on their narrow waist as he kissed them back. Hange melted against him, their lips rough and dry but pliant, opening easily to the gentle press of his tongue. It took a concentrated effort to remember himself, remember their company, to keep the kiss somewhat chaste; to stop himself nudging Hange to lay back on the sofa and cover their body with his own.

He pulled away reluctantly, entirely too pleased when Hange chased him a little way, stealing another quick kiss or two before leaning against the back of the sofa and looking at him. The flush on their face was more prominent, now. Levi quietly delighted in it.

Moblit sighed, almost wistfully, and gathered up their empty cups. Hange cooed quietly at him.

"Don't worry, Moblit," they said. "You'll get your turn soon. When does Nifa get back again?"

Moblit's face flamed. Levi had never seen someone colour so quickly, bright red from his neck to his hairline.

He stormed through to the kitchen, and choked out, "Next week, I think. And it's not like that, Hange."

"Not yet," Hange corrected. "We'll get you there."

Hange let out a great yawn. The little light of life in them, the small pleasure of teasing, snuffed out as they sat up straighter, spine crunching in several places as they did.

"We should get back to work," they said. They sounded dull again—Levi could hear the strain of stress in their tone. Moblit looked a little torn. Levi shook his head.

"It can wait," Levi said. "I've had a long, shitty day, and you," he pinched the skin of their cheek, tugging a little, "need sleep. You look like shit."

Hange's face twisted. Levi could see the anxiety building in them, churning. He cut them off before they could say anything more. "A few hours, four-eyes. You're not gonna remember shit when you're tired anyway."

"Levi's right, Hange," Moblit interjected. He looked tired, too. Levi felt a pang of sympathy for him—how many hours of sleep had he sacrificed trying to help Hange desperately prepare?

Levi tugged on their hand, pulling them in closer as he sunk back, reclining a little on the sofa.

"I'm tired," he said plainly. And then, embarrassed by the heat already flooding his cheeks, he added, "I've missed you. Just a few hours."

Levi was never blatantly vocal about his feelings. He considered himself very lucky that Hange knew him well, and could understand the intent behind his rude remarks. Right now, though, he felt desperate. And his honesty paid off.

Hange scrutinised him for a short moment, then said, "okay. But only a few hours."

"Deal."

"Just a nap."

"Fine."

Hange adjusted to tuck themself against his chest. They drew their knees up and curled into his side, dragging a throw from the back of the sofa and adjusting it to drape over them both. Moblit settled himself quietly on the other sofa.

Levi drew absent patterns over Hange's back with his fingertips. His touch bumped over their spine, bones even more pronounced with their back curled the way it was. How long had it been since they ate a proper meal? How regularly did they ingest something more substantial than a protein bar? He knew Hange was prone to fits of forgetfulness when they became too fixated on one task or another, easily bypassing meal times and leaving it too long between showers, but hunger always won out in the end. Hange had always been a little on the skinny side, but this, now; it scared him. They looked, and felt, unhealthy.

He dropped a harsh kiss to the top of their head. He wanted to say so many things, felt full with the weight of it all—I'm worried about you, you're scaring me, please look after yourself, I love you. Instead, he kissed them again, roughly, nuzzling his face into their hair, and hoped somehow they would understand.

Tomorrow, Levi will drag them for a shower. He will make them a good breakfast. He will make sure they drink water, and take small breaks during their studies, even just five minutes to breathe and regroup. Tomorrow, he will stand by as a silent support. He will let Moblit guide Hange through their studies, help where Levi cannot, and then, if things get too much, if Hange needs something to ground themself again, Levi will be right there.

Tomorrow.

But for now, Levi will make sure they rest.

#levihan #snk #my writing #angst

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Notes: Title stolen from Song Of The Soul XXII by Khalil Gibran.

Companion piece: In the absence of sound (she hears her heart break)

Wrote this indulgent piece angst and fluff to reset after the very angsty The Astrophile (which took a lot of my own heart). As always, comments are gladly appreciated <3

Summary: Yaku bursts into her life like a hurricane, even whilst Akaashi lingers on like the memory of a summer breeze.

Pairings: Yaku x reader, Akaashi x reader

She runs into Yaku at the New Year’s Party the Japanese embassy in Moscow throws for expatriates (a fancy term to describe birds who’ve flown the coop after finding it unbearably small). He’s in the middle of chattering with a bemused waiter in very broken Russian about the spread when he explodes into a delighted laugh, so loud that she startles and spills her drink all over his shoes.

Pandemonium ensues – the restaurant staff scatter to fetch napkins and she’s trying to pick up the pieces of her broken glass, stammering out apologies (because dear god, her boss is going to have her head for upsetting a guest – especially one so prominent as Yaku Morisuke, the only Japanese volleyball player who broke into the Russian professional league), when his laugh cuts through the noise.

‘This was my favourite pair of shoes’ he tells her when he stops laughing, and she’s about to launch into a litany of apologies when he grins at her cheekily – ‘But you can make it up to me by buying me dinner instead’.

‘Now?’ she gapes at him in shock. ‘I can’t, I’m working’.

‘Whenever’, he answers, stealing her phone from her hands. ‘Look – here’s my number. Call me when you can’.

She’s left in shock, watching him in silence as he bounces off to join another conversation.

She texts him that night (because a deal is a deal, and she always pays her debts) and they arrange to meet the next day at a dumpling place he recommends.

She’s there five minutes early, and he bursts into the restaurant five minutes late, apologizing whilst complaining about goddamned Russian traffic. He orders for the both of them in such an excruciatingly terrible Russian accent that she winces, but he must have been here before because the waiter takes their order without batting an eye. The owner, a wizened old lady with apples in her cheeks swings by to smack kisses on his cheeks noisily.

‘It’s a little strange, but it’s the closest thing I can find to home’, he tells her when the waiter presents them with their dumplings with a flourish. It is indeed strange – the dumpling skin is thicker and doughier than she’s used to with Japanese gyozas, stuffed with varying fillings of beef and pork and cheese, but his eyes are bright when she takes her first bite and gives a hum of appreciation because it is as he says, strange but good.

There is indeed an echo of home in her heart but she clamps it down firmly.

‘It’s good right?’ he asks and she nods mutely, mouth full of dumplings. He talks her ear away, telling her about his time in the Russian league, how he’s just made the first team this week. She learns he can’t remember a time when he doesn’t know the feel of a volleyball in his hands, and how he broke his mother’s heart when he chose to train outside of Japan, six thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles away from home.

He asks her why she’s in Moscow. She tells him she’s studied Russian as a child – her father, a math professor, believed it necessary for her and her sister to learn Russian, and while she’s never quite had a head for numbers, she takes to languages like a fish to water – and since she was looking for a new adventure, Moscow seemed like a good fit.

(She does not tell him she’s actually on the run from her broken heart)

‘You can teach me Russian then’, his words presumptuous, but there’s mirth and warmth flickering in his eyes that makes her hesitate to tell him off.

‘Maybe’, she responds with a shrug, standing up to pay the bill. To her surprise he lets her pay without a fight - very unlike Akaashi, who had only agreed grudgingly to allow her to split the bill on their first date.

‘It’s my turn to pay when we go out next time’, he tells her when they stand outside the restaurant about to part.

‘Will there be a next time?’ she asks him archly, and he pouts at her with puppy-dog eyes. He texts her less than five minutes after he takes his leave, inviting her to an ice skating rink.

To neither of their surprise, there is indeed, a next time, and a next time after that.

Yaku has an extremely sweet tooth, unlike Akaashi who prefers the bitterness of black coffee.

She tells him to drop in on her apartment after training (only if he’s up to it of course, she’s learnt that lesson from Akaashi after all). He does so without complaint, and she’s removing the pie from the oven when he lets himself in with the key he sweet-talked out of her.

‘Tadaima’, he calls cheerily, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he drops his gloves on the kitchen table. ‘Is that for me?’ he asks, gaping bug-eyed at the steaming pie in her hands.

‘I don’t see anyone else it could be for’, she teases, setting the pie down on the table, cutting him a slice. The fruit seller at the corner of her street had a sale on apples, and she remembers Yaku telling her that he used to buy apple pie on the way to school every week, but would always end up giving it up to Kenma as a bribe to train harder during practice and finish running his laps.

He takes a bite and moans loudly even though he burns his tongue – it’s so good, a flaky, buttery crust hiding a jammy filling of caramelized apple and browned butter. It tastes like home in the fall when the leaves turn golden and red, when his mother brings home apples on discount from the store and he and his little brothers fight over the apples pastries his grandmother makes.

‘I love you’, he declares firmly, as he reaches for a second helping, and he pretends not to notice when she shrinks back and does not respond.

Yaku revels in public displays of affection - unlike Akaashi, who used to shy away from it.

‘I like your hair. Have you always kept it short?’ He asks her one day when they’re feeding ducks in the park near his house.

She laughs at him as he quacks exaggeratedly back at a very greedy duck chasing the bread in his hand and answers without thinking - ‘no, I cut it before I left Japan because I hear it’s what break-ups make you do’. Then she freezes, because this is the first time she’s ever alluded to Keiji to him – it’s a part of her life that she’d very much like to bury in a deep, dark vault and throw the key away.

But the expression on his face is very much like a cat eyeing a rat it’d like very much to trap and she’s right, he’s relentless (she should’ve known that, could’ve seen that from just watching one of his matches). As he walks her home, she finds herself telling him about Keiji - how his lack of affection and inability to step away from his job created a silence so still she heard her heart break.

When she finishes what she self-deprecatingly terms her tale of woe, he pulls her to a stop, ignoring the indignant protests of the people walking behind them. ‘What on earth, Mori’, she squawks, but he ignores her too, choosing instead to wind his hands into the ends of her scarf and tug her face to face with him. She does not want to look at him, does not want to see pity in his eyes – but there is none of that, only a quiet tenderness that warms her to her core.

‘I love you’, he tells her softly, and it’s a wonder she can hear every inflection of his voice through the rush of blood to her ears. ‘I will continue saying it as many times as you need, as loudly as I can until your heart is no longer broken and the silence is gone’.

Then, without an ounce of shame, he kisses her right in the middle of the busy street, completely oblivious to the glares of the people who pass them by.

Yaku is quick to anger, whereas Akaashi is the calm before the storm.

She’s told him again and again not to send her flowers – she swears she’s developed an allergy to them, the memory of Keiji sending her flowers every Friday even after they broke up sends bile up her throat (pink camellias for longing, violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for obvious reasons) – but Yaku doesn’t listen and sends her a bouquet of red roses for her birthday (for love).

So she screams at him when he pops by her flat after training – because why on earth doesn’t he just listen to her, he knows she hates flowers, what on earth would possess him to send her flowers for her birthday, and he screams back that he does, damn it - but he’s not Keiji, he’s spent their entire time together trying to prove that, why can’t she just trust him for once.

Finally, he storms out shouting that he’ll come back when she’s calmed down, when she’s finally ready to forgive him for whatever Keiji has done – even though for the last goddamned time, he’s not bloody Keiji and she sinks to the floor, wondering why she’s allowed the ghost of Keiji to continue haunting her, six thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles away from home.

He’s right - it isn’t fair to him for her to keep comparing him to Keiji, to keep watching and waiting for him to slip up, not when he’s poured all his love and affection into her – into them . He’s not Keiji, never has been and never will be, and she wonders if this is the point his patience and kindness and love finally runs out.

But she’s not going to let another man she loves walk out of her life without a fight.

So she throws on her coat and climbs down the stairs, determined to march to Yaku’s apartment just a couple of streets away when she slams into him head-first at the corner of her street. ‘I’m sorry’ they both chorus immediately, and despite themselves, they break into a laugh.

‘I’m sorry for not listening’, he says, but she shakes her head, determined to say her piece. ‘You're right, it's my fault for not letting Keiji go. I should have figured this out earlier, but I know you’re not Keiji, you never have been, and I trust you never will be’.

And to drive the point home, thanking her lucky stars he’s not tall, she pulls him close by his collar and presses her lips to his. ‘I love you’, she whispers, when they finally come up for air. He looks at her like she just hung the stars up in the sky.

The next day, she presents him with a literal bushel of red roses, and he laughs at that - loud and clear and bright.

(The sound makes her heart feel whole again)

‘Why don’t you move with me’, Yaku asks her matter of factly through a mouthful of rice, at the end of her tirade about her awful landlord who just tried to stiff her by doubling her rent in less than a year with a month’s notice.

She stills, hand frozen halfway to her mouth. He does not swallow for fear of choking the mix of uncertainty and hope rising in his throat - because sometimes even though he promises to wait for her as long as she needs, he wonders if she’ll ever forget that he’s not her bloody ex – until he senses her relaxing her tense shoulders, and decides to close in for the kill.

‘Come on’, he wheedles. ‘We could even adopt a kitten so you won’t be lonely when I’m away for work’, and he laughs fondly when her face lights up. There we go.

‘You drive a hard bargain, but alright’, she pretends to grouse, but she laughs along with him when he triumphantly presses his lips to her cheek, dodging her swats when she scolds him for leaving grains of rice on her face.

They adopt a black kitten from the shelter and they name him ‘Kuroo’.

Much like its namesake, their cat is a piece of shit and contrary as hell. He doubles over in laughter when he comes home one day to find her chasing Kuroo (the cat, not the middle blocker) around the house, furniture upended everywhere. He later understands through her huffs that she meant to give him a bath.

He sends endless pictures of Kuroo (again, the cat and not the middle blocker) to the Nekoma groupchat and they all fall head over heels in love. Kai sends him advice on how to grow catnip in an apartment. Fukunaga asks to video call the cat more than he texts him. Shibayama and Inouka ship a box of clothes for the cat because they’re worried it won’t survive the Russian winter. The worst offenders are Kenma who sets up social media accounts for it, and bloody international supermodel Lev who pours oil on flames by tagging the damn cat on his own posts. Yaku is alarmed to wake up one day and find that his cat is more popular than him.

Well, all of them save for its namesake, who threatens to retaliate by naming his dog ‘Yaku’.

He gets drafted onto the National Team, and he’s elated until he realizes that he’ll have to spend months away from her.

‘It’s fine’, she reassures him. ‘Kuroo will keep me company while you’re back home’. The little demon licks its ass and looks intolerably smug when he shoots a glare at it behind her back, because he knows damn well the cat is going to take advantage of his absence to take over his side of the bed.

He extracts a promise from her to call him every day (screw the time difference, seriously) and he in turn promises to send her tickets to watch him play. Then he packs his bags and flies back to Tokyo.

It’s nostalgic being back in his childhood home. The posters from his teenage years are still on his bedroom walls (gods – he was such a horny bastard back then), and his mother smothers him with his favourite foods and far too much attention. But he lays awake at night thinking of their little apartment filled with the smell of her baking and the sound of her singing and realizes he misses Kuroo - again, the cat, not the middle blocker, who’d miss him - despite its despicable way of stalking him while he takes a shit and most of all - he misses her.

He figures he has it bad when he starts turning down his grandmother’s apple pastries because they remind him too painfully of the apple pies she makes after either of them have had a hard day at work, and wonders when he started thinking of Moscow and the little apartment he shares with her as home.

But he soldiers on because playing for Japan is his dream (and has been, ever since he first learnt the thrill of keeping the ball in flight with his hands), and gets by on video calls and texts and pictures of Kuroo and the promise of dumplings and apple pies when he comes home.

He makes the mistake of mentioning that he has a girlfriend in Miya Atsumu’s earshot after practice one day.

‘You have a girlfriend?’ the piss-haired setter asks in disbelief. ‘You? Mr bossy - under five foot five – libero-chan managed to land himself a girl that’s willing to tolerate him?’

‘Just because you have an issue keeping girls from running away from you doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t find girlfriends’, Sakusa interjects flatly, face firmly masked up, trusty bottle of sanitizer pointed in Atsumu’s direction.

Yaku is about to claw Atsumu’s eyes out when Hinata prances by and asks to see a picture of said girlfriend. Growling, he whips out his phone, and is mollified when the rest of the team crowds around and pronounces her to be very pretty. Everyone – except Atsumu, who sulks in a corner, sneering that he could do better (no he can’t - he really can’t get a girl to save his life), and Bokuto, who corners him later when he’s about to leave.

‘She used to date Akaashi, you know?’ Bokuto tells him solemnly, a marked departure from his usual jovial self. ‘They broke up on a pretty bad note’.

Yaku does not in fact know, because she’s never mentioned her ex-boyfriend’s last name, always opting to refer to him as ‘Keiji’, a fairly popular name for guys their age. ‘Oh?’ he replies, and tries his best to sound encouraging and not derisive or threatening or whatever it is that Atsumu has accused him of over the past few weeks of training.

‘Yeah. She’s a nice girl, I met her once or twice, but between you and me, I don’t think Akaashi is really over her’.

Too bad for him, he wants to say but doesn’t, because despite whatever Atsumu might say about him, he’s tactful, thank you very much, and knows it’s probably not the best idea to badmouth his teammate’s best friend to his face, especially a teammate he likes as much as Bokuto. Instead, he stuffs his shoes in his bag, shrugging and grunting noncommittally before heading off.

He doesn’t mention this to her during their nightly video calls. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want them to have to talk about him being an old acquaintance with her idiot ex over a call, their time together is too precious to be tainted by any mention of him. But there’s a part of him that wonders if it’s because he’s afraid that she’ll bump into Akaashi when she’s back in Japan and he might convince her to let him sweep her away. Akaashi is tall, dark and handsome, and most definitely smarter and more educated after all - a better match for her than him, an idiot that chases balls for a living.

But then her laughter chimes through his phone’s speakers as he pouts when she carries Kuroo to the screen to ask if he misses his daddy (the traitorous hell spawn refuses to even look at him) and it banishes the shadow of his doubts away. It’s as clear as day that she loves him, ball chasing idiot Yaku Morisuke.

He falls asleep to the sound of her humming his favourite songs.

She flies to Japan with their cat in tow a week before the Olympics and even though he’s moved into the Olympic dorms by then, he sneaks out to meet her for dinner as often as he can. Atsumu catches him once and grumbles something about ‘hypocritical bossy know-it-alls’ - but shuts up when Yaku turns up for practice the next day and is too busy grinning ear to ear to yell at him for flubbing an easy receive as he usually does.

When he finally steps onto the court for his first match, it’s easy to get carried away, because the light bearing down on the court is brighter than any game he’s played in before, and the roar of the home crowd is so loud he swears the tremors in his feet are from the floor - but he doesn’t. Because there’s a girl in the VIP stands shouting his name, and maybe it’s childish of him, but he has something to prove - he wants to make her proud.

And he does, because they win.

The entire team is in the locker room when he hears the clatter of familiar footsteps, then a shrieked ‘Mori’ before she tackles him into a bone-crushing hug. Atsumu barks at her ‘not to break our dear libero-chan’, but neither of them pay him any mind - she doesn’t even care that he’s literally dripping in sweat and snot and tears - because they won, they won, they won -

Then he looks up and sees Akaashi staring at them. Ah. The idiot ex-boyfriend has to ruin their moment.

Just as he’s wondering whether his fist should meet Akaashi’s eye or nose first, Bokuto swings by at the moment to distract her. She’s so excited at seeing a familiar face that she disengages herself from their hug and throws her arms around Bokuto instead. Yaku thinks that Bokuto is probably a lot smarter than most people give him credit for as Akaashi approaches him, his hand outstretched.

‘Take care of her’, Akaashi says with a bittersweet smile on his lips. ‘You’re a lucky man’.

He pauses briefly to glance at her - and gods she’s radiant even as she’s chattering away to Bokuto, her eyes sparkling, the light shining softly on her hair - fuck, Atsumu’s right, he’s whipped - and tries to imagine a world where she slips through his hands. Suddenly, the twisted knot of spite in his chest unravels, and he can only feel the dregs of pity pooling in his belly. He's not blind, he can recognise the look of wistful regret on the taller man’s face, and he's certainly not deaf - he suspects that if he listens hard enough, he can hear Akaashi’s heart break.

I know, I’m lucky to have her - he wants to say but does not because that would mean twisting a knife in an already broken man. Instead, he steps forward to take Akaashi’s hand.

‘Always’, he promises firmly. Akaashi inclines his head in thanks.

Her heart is safe in my hands.

She returns to Russia first, and he follows a few weeks later, after a whirlwind of awards and press interviews.

He breaks into a run when he sees her standing at the arrivals gate with a bouquet of red roses and a cheeky grin on her face. ‘You’re rubbing it in at this point’, he pretends to pout, but rather spoils its effect when he swings her into his arms.

She cooks dumplings for dinner and there’s an apple pie waiting for him in the oven. His jaw drops in surprise when the dumplings taste exactly like his mother’s cooking. ‘I learnt it from your mum while you were at training, in case you already miss home’, she teases.

‘But with you, I am home’, he responds, his voice earnest and low. She flushes pink and blushes bright red when he carries her off to bed.

She is his home now, she and their cat in their little flat in Moscow bursting at its seams with apple pies and dumplings and love .

‘I want this to be my forever’, he tells her later, laying his head in her lap. His heart skips a beat, waiting for her response.

‘So do I’, she finally replies, running her hands through his hair. Her heart hums quietly, finally in safe hands.

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