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bby-deerling · 1 month

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7 of coins + the tower (marco x reader nsfw)

and now for something completely different...

this is one of my tarot prompt drabbles that @kazieai was gracious enough to allow me to share with you all <3 thank you!!, i love ya! these are always super fun because i get the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone and write for new characters :)

masterlist || commissions

cw: friends to lovers, afab!fem!reader, cowgirl position

tagging: @fanaticsnail @indydonuts

Content with your simple life and the sprawling greens of Sphinx, you had never envisioned yourself getting entangled with a pirate; as far as you were concerned, Whitebeard was the only one with some sort of tangible moral fabric seeing as he had turned your village in a hidden paradise with his financial support, a far cry from the lawless wasteland your parents had described growing up in. The cloistered state of your village meant that meeting outsiders, let alone pirates, with good intentions happened few and far between—that is, until the new doctor rolled into town.

It should be noted that he didn’t technically roll, he flew, with blue and yellow streaking flames across the sky that had you rubbing your eyes, convinced you were either hallucinating or developing a migraine. Following the trail of colors left nothing but a man in its wake; it was Marco—that much you were certain of when you saw the fluffy mess of hair at the top of his head—but his presence only causes you to swivel your head around, concerned that a gaggle of boisterous pirates were about to follow not far behind. Whitebeard’s funeral had been a solemn affair, but afterwards, Red-Haired Shanks and his crew had drank the entire village dry and kept every inhabitant up far past their bedtime, and their idea of “fun” was quite frankly too much for you to handle.

But thankfully, Marco had come alone this time, setting up a small doctor’s office within his new home, and quickly ingraining himself in the community; so calm and carefree, you nearly forget he’s a retired pirate at all, until the occasional group of bandits attack the village from behind the waterfall, and the phoenix takes care of the issue in mere minutes before smiling to himself and returning his attention to patching up the minor scrapes and bruises of the village kids. Though you had long ago resigned yourself to becoming the village spinster, you couldn’t help yourself from letting a bud of blooming affection sprout as you watch him tend to any issues that crop up around town, including things as trivial as helping you weed your garden or cleaning out your gutters. In fact, you quite enjoyed having someone to talk to who possessed both intelligence and humility in spades, that you end up finding yourself seeking him out for tasks that don’t really require his assistance simply so that you can spend time with him—and that’s all well and good, until one day, he calls you out on it.

“You can just invite me over without the silly pretense, you know.” he says with a smug grin one sunny afternoon after you asked him to come look at a creaky floorboard in your kitchen; to his credit, it was a flimsy excuse, but the wood does let out a squeak as his feet cross through the room on the way to your living room. Tray of tea in hand, you place the refreshments on your coffee table as you sit nearby in your favorite armchair, close enough for your knee to occasionally brush against his, making idle conversation with him as you sip on the piping hot liquid. The topics stay centered around the present, the current happenings of the village; though he sometimes told a story or two, you rarely asked him about his past, and perhaps he liked that your friendship centered around this new phase in his life. Mind wandering as he talks, the laid-back, soothing tone of his voice admittedly going straight to your core, leaving you with a flushed face. Zoning out, you don’t even realize how flustered you look until he snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“You’re spacing out today, yoi.” he says lowly, carefully worming your teacup out of your hands and placing it onto the table. He’s beyond amused as he watches the way your face fails to hide the feelings you’ve been trying to hard to swallow down; your little crush has been quite clear for some time, but he was intent on worming a confession out of you himself. “Any reason why?” he probes, leaning forward with a smug smile spread across his face.

Unsure if he was messing with you or not, you avert your gaze away from him and let out a deep sigh. “Marco, if you’re gonna reject me, just tell me now and quit teasing me.” you mumble out, cheeks heated as you steal a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Now that’d just be mean.” he says with a small chuckle as he cups your face, gently urging you to look at him before he presses his lips to yours, admittedly with more passion than you were expecting. The way his hands trail along your torso is steeped in heaps of experience that you lack, with precision and confidence that has you melting under his touch.

“Such a pretty little thing, yoi.” he muses as he pulls you into his lap, keeping a firm grip on your waist as he rolls his hips into yours. The intoxicating pull in the air makes you lose all dignity and composure, not thinking twice about how things might look to anyone nosy enough to peek thorugh your window when he reaches under your sundress and pulls your panties to the side. Circling the tip of his cock around your entrance teasingly, you bite on his lip as you sink down onto his length, knees buried into the plush fabric of your couch as you rock your hips against his. His firm hold on you makes every twitch of your body more intense; you can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex, let alone good sex, but the way Marco turns you into a feverish mess so easily leaves you spellbound, even more under his thumb than you already were.

“Let go for me.” he murmurs in your ear; with your clit grinding against him with each guided snap of your hips, you’re unbearably close. The vibrations from his words couple with the handful of your thigh that he grips possessively send you over the edge, unraveling you into a spit up, tangled ball of string as your walls flutter around him. Ears pounding and head light, your eyes are bleary and blurry as you come to your senses; he’s whispering sweet praises to you, but as the look in his eyes comes into focus, another wave of heat floods your core.

He's not done with you—not even close.

#one piece x reader #marco x reader #marco the phoenix #x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece drabble #one piece smut

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kingofallthecosmos · 8 months

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Ofmd season 2 episode 6 spoilers!!

The way they showed Ed and Stede's first time was so interesting to me. First of all, it happened directly after Stede killed someone for the first time, so automatically, Stede was in a very strange and vulnerable headspace. And that's not to say he was taken advantage of--he very much initiated it--but it happened while both of their identities were up in the air. Stede was adjusting to being an *actual* killer, while Ed had just apologized earlier for shooting Izzys leg.

And then we see Ed sitting on the bed, still fully clothed in leather while a shirtless Stede closes the curtains. And what interests me the most is that we don't even see his face. All we see is Ed looking up from the bed, and Stede looming close to the camera, mirroring the way that Blackbeard was first introduced to the show--facing away from the camera and smoking a pipe, obscured with power and mystery. The fact that their first time co-occurred with such a dramatic shift in dynamics is a little concerning but I have total faith that they will *eventually* talk their shit out).

I don't fully believe Ed when he said that night was a mistake. I do believe he has commitment issues like a bitch, and when Stede started to become more like him, he got scared. We can see him pulling away, sitting in the corner of Spanish Jackie's as Stede revels in his infamy. He wants to truly make amends to the people he's hurt and traumatized, and he can't do that if he's with someone who's drinking, and making people walk the plank, and lighting people on fire.

And it's not because Stede is evil--sure he's a bitch, and occasionally ends a life or two, but that's not who he truly is--its who he's trying to be. A murderer, not a bitch--cause he is a bitch, but he's trying to be a murderer, because his whole life he's been bullied and mocked for not being manly enough. For not being a good husband, for being sensitive and soft, and well, gay. And Ed doesn't understand that this is why he wants to be like him, like Blackbeard (because they haven't fucking talked about it), because for Ed, being Blackbeard ruined his life. It nearly ended it (and others) and he doesn't want Stede to fall down the same path.

So yeah, Ed decides to become a fisherman, because like he said, he has no idea who he is. He still has so much healing to do, so many wrongs to right, and it's just so fucking tragic that now is the time when they need each other the most, but they're moving so rapidly in opposite directions, and neither of them know how to communicate it.

I think Anne and Mary were right--they are fucking 14 year old boys. I mean, Stede literally called Ed a coward for leaving instead of chasing after him. But they're not going to turn out like them. Ed and Stede are going to grow up, and they're going to talk, and they're going to heal each other's scars instead of causing each other more. They're going to learn how to commit to each other and stay even when things get hard or scary. (David Jenkins please for the love of all that is holy let them better each other and also fuck again but after they come to terms with who they are and want to be)

Edit: actually, hot take, but I think them having sex actually was a mistake. And yeah, Ed left instead of talking about it, but still. Their relationship is still so new and unstable, and I wish they waited until they were in a more grounded place. I wish they would have reckoned with their opposing paths before doing something so intimate and vulnerable, but I have a feeling they're going to reckon with it by the end of the season.

Ed asked Stede to go slow for a reason. And yeah, they both consented, which is more important than anything, but damn, it happened so fucking fast. I mean, they are gay, so. (David Jenkins I am in your walls please make Ed and Stede practice healthy sexuality and communicate about their life goals so they can prevent further miscommunication and heartbreak)

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #our flag means death meta #ofmd season 2 #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

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buckyismybicycle · 1 year

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Title: “sugar, spice and everything nice” [AO3 Link] Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers (Bucky x Nat and Bucky x Clint if you squint) Rating: Gen Summary/Notes: Cuddles, Tooth-rotting fluff, outsider POVs, Christmas Cookies, Deaf Clint Barton, Partially Deaf Steve Rogers, Amputee Bucky Barnes

For @cabottombingo - E3: “Didn’t know they were dating” (but not the way you think this is gonna go) @stuckybingo - B1: “AU: Coffee Shop”

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to everyone! Please have some xmas cuddles and floofs.

💖 OVERALL MASTERLIST

“Hi! Welcome to Purrfectly Brewed!” Janet chirps from behind the counter. She watches a stunning redheaded woman approach, her hand around the arm of a handsome brunette. They might just be the most devastating couple Janet has ever seen.

“Hi,” the woman says, her voice huskier than Janet expected. “Would you be able to make an iced latte with half the sugar, and with almond milk instead of whole milk?”

“Yes, absolutely! Can I get your name?”

“Natasha.”

The man beside her pipes up then. “Look, Nat.” He’s pointing at one of their several kittens, lounging on the arm of a cat tree by the window.

“Her name is Alpine,” Janet volunteers.

“She’s so…” The man trails off, seemingly forgetting what he was saying, though his eyes go soft and Janet has a pretty good idea of what’s happening. He’s falling for the little ball of fluff that’s sunbathing, her tail flicking occasionally.

“Can we also get two large coffees, both black, and a large caramel macchiato with extra caramel?” Natasha asks, sensing that she’s lost her companion to the snowball of fur.

Janet blinks, thrown off by the number of drinks to the number of customers ratio before nodding with her Customer Service Smile on. “Sure thing, coming right up.”

She sets the total, swings the machine around to face them and then hands Hope all four cups with her instructions and Natasha’s name written across them.

There’s a murmur of a language that definitely isn’t English, and she tries not to ogle when Natasha presses a kiss to the man’s temple. Sweet. Loving.

Looking like everything that Janet loves about rom-coms.

When the two leave, it’s Hope that blurts it out first. “Jesus, they’re hot.”

✧

“That was a cute shop, I bet Clint would really like it here,” Bucky says as they leave to walk back to their apartment. “Steve would too, I bet, if he liked cats.”

“Bet you twenty dollars I can get him to go with you in under a minute,” Natasha gloats.

Bucky knows better. He does. But that doesn’t stop him from smirking back. “You’re on, love.”

When they get home, she stands in front of the TV, blocking Steve’s view and signs very clearly. “Bucky fell in love with someone at the new cafe down the street.”

“How?!” Steve exclaims, sitting up and looking at Natasha before he raises an eyebrow at Bucky. “It’s been fifteen minutes, Buck.”

When Bucky opens his mouth to correct Steve, Nat places a finger over his lips. “I think Steve’s just gotta see for himself, don’t you think?”

When it’s settled that Steve will be going to the cafe and turns back to the TV, Bucky signs from behind him. “You evil woman.”

She blows a kiss back at him and he sighs in defeat.

✧

It’s a week and a half before Janet sees them again, and this time Scott is working the cash register. Janet peeks over Scott’s shoulder and spots the same brunette ordering drinks, but this time he’s with a shorter, slighter blonde.

Scott has a laugh with them before handing over two cups with the name “Bucky” on them. She thinks it’s strange, but then again, with Scott’s chicken scratch handwriting it could be just about anything.

She makes a caramel macchiato, and pours a latte with almond milk and half the sugar. Familiar.

“For… Bucky?” Janet calls.

Bucky, presumably, comes to claim their drinks, and doesn’t correct her. “Thanks!”

Huh. Maybe it is “Bucky” after all. Bucky has a very nice smile.

She watches Bucky hand over the latte and take a seat at their table, facing the cat tree. Bucky talks then, but his hands come up to sign, as well. Even though Janet is much too far to make out the words, it’s obvious the story is funny given the way the other man is stifling his laugh behind his own hands before signing back.

Janet thinks it’s so sweet. Had Bucky learned to sign, just for this? He seems so comfortable with it already.

“He’s so in love,” Scott says abruptly, startling Janet out of her thoughts.

She looks at the table again, trying to see what Scott sees. The way Bucky looks at Steve, with bright eyes and a smile to match — the way their feet are hooked around each other’s ankles? Janet has no choice but to agree, though she wonders what happened to Natasha.

“Yeah,” she says eventually. “S’too bad about Natasha, though.”

“Huh?” Scott asks, confused. “I was talking about the cat.”

“OH.”

✧

“Nat tells me you went to scope out Bucky’s new girl,” Clint hollers, hands flying as he signs, giddy. “I want to meet her too!”

“Well… She’s white.”

Clint scrunches his face, furrowing his brows at Steve and looking around the room. Surely, he hadn’t read that right.

At the confusion, Steve doubles over laughing, and can’t get himself straightened out to let Clint in on the joke.

Bucky finally comes over with a picture he’d taken of Alpine while they were sitting down.

“Oooooooooooh!” Clint exclaims. “That makes… Way more sense.”

✧

Hope is wiping down the tables when the chime above the door rings, and she looks up to see Natasha, but this time she’s not with Bucky. Even though Janet had filled her in during their last shift together, it still takes Hope by surprise. The sandy-blonde man, dressed like he’d fallen into a vat of grape juice, has a wide smile on his face and a peculiar band-aid across his chin.

Hope busies herself nearby just in case there's any juicy gossip to share with Janet while Scott handles the order at the counter.

“Two large coffees please, black” the man orders, taking out his wallet to pay, and batting Natasha’s hand away from where she’d been reaching into her bag.

“Easy peasy,” Scott sings, with that charming grin he gives all the customers. “Under what name?”

Even though Hope notices the hearing aid, the man doesn’t seem to miss a beat. “Clint.”

Oooooh. Hope stores that away for later. So, Natasha-not-with-Bucky is Natasha-with-Clint now, and Bucky-not-with-Natasha is Bucky-with-Blonde, it seems.

There’s a handful of people in the cafe right now, most of them are busy petting the cats around the shop, drinks long finished. Hope refills the cat’s water bowls, and when she gets to the cat tree, she stops to pet Alpine.

“These cats are all up for adoption, correct?”

Hope spins around and comes face to face with Natasha, whose green eyes are brighter than emeralds this close.

“Yes! Yeah, they are, of course,” Hope fumbles, watching Natasha’s eyes on Alpine. The very same cat that Hope knows Bucky has been eyeing.

Oh no.

“That’s great to hear,” Natasha says, smiling softly like she isn’t stealing away Bucky’s best buddy at this cafe. “I’d like to adopt this one please.”

OH NO.

✧

“She didn’t!” Janet gasps the moment Hope tells her. Janet’s eyes are wide and she’s got a death grip on Hope’s arm, blunt nails digging in.

“I know!” Hope exclaims. “I felt so guilty giving Alpine to her… Even though that’s exactly what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“But Bucky will be so heartbroken,” Janet nearly wails. “Again.”

“Hey you don’t know what happened between those two,” Hope admonishes, elbowing her friend. “Besides, they both seem… Happy.”

“But Alpine.”

“Oh my god,” Hope huffs, tossing a rag in Hope’s direction. “Go clean something for crying out loud, I can’t look at your pouty face anymore.”

✧

“Oh! Here they come, here they come,” Hope squeals, shoving Janet towards the cash register.

“Oooooh, he’s with Nat’s boyfriend!” Janet proclaims, smoothing her apron down.

“They look cozy together.”

“Stop that! He was just in here with Bucky yesterday,” Janet reminds her. “And they adopted a cat!”

“You don’t know they adopted Liho together,” Hope points out. “Bucky could just be finally taking that step to adopt, now that Alpine is no longer up for grabs.”

“Okay, fine, maybe the cat adoption wasn’t a clear indicator but you know what is? The fact they definitely shared a very steamy kiss.”

“Gee, I didn’t realize you were such a creep.”

“You watch them too, what the f —”

“Shh!” Hope hisses as she scurries back to her machines. “Here they come!”

“No way, he’s not cheating on Bucky,” Janet vehemently denies under her breath, though Hope has long stopped listening.

Janet plasters a smile on her face as the two approach. She watches as the slighter blonde — Steve, Bucky’s boyfriend — gestures with his hands to his companion.

“Uhhh, I forgot to ask Bucky what he wants,” Clint confesses, squinting at the menu hanging above the counter when they get closer.

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him aside a bit before smiling at her. “A large praline latte, large sugar cookie oat latte a — Clint —”

The nudge makes Clint look back down at Steve, who’s gesturing for him to order.

“One extra large salted caramel hot chocolate, please.” He watches Steve’s lips as he rattles off the remainder of their order.

“A large — actually, make that an extra large — caramel macchiato. With extra caramel, please.”

“Spoiling your boy, hm?” Clint asks, and Janet has to fight to keep the smile off her face.

Steve’s look softens as he pays, signing to Clint after tucking his wallet away. Janet desperately wishes she knew what he was saying.

“Ah,” Clint says, as if that explains everything.

Hope is a whirlwind preparing the drinks, so Janet tucks them all neatly into a tray, and tops them off accordingly before they hand the tray over.

“Have a wonderful day!” Janet sings with a bright smile.

“You too,” they reply in unison before leaving together.

“Did you hear?” Janet asks, poking Hope in the side. “He called Bucky Steve’s boy. I told you.”

“Sure, sure, but like, how weird is it that they all know each other?”

“Maybe they all went to school together, there can be a simple explanation you know.”

Hope rolls her eyes and starts to wipe the countertop. “Sure, I guess. Guh, they’re just so cute.”

“We should stop speculating,” Janet suggests, albeit reluctantly. “What matters is that all four of them are happy and they’re somehow together one way or another.”

“I’m sure they’re together. Like all together.” Hope’s eyes sparkle a bit.

Janet gasps, “Oh.”

✧

“You’re worse than Alpine,” Nat says with a chuckle, her hands raking through Bucky’s hair as he lays in her lap.

Bucky closes his eyes, leaning into the touch and mumbling what was supposed to be a protest back at her.

As if on cue, Alpine hops down from the back of the couch and onto Bucky’s hip.

“Easy girl, daddy’s still not feeling well,” Nat warns, scratching under Alpine’s chin to stop her from climbing any further up Bucky’s side.

Bucky whines at the loss and as obnoxious as it is, it gets Natasha’s hand to come back, so he counts it as a win. His prosthetic currently lays on the ground beside him, until he can handle putting it back on.

The telltale click of the lock indicates the return of Clint and Steve, followed by Clint’s hollering, of course.

“HONIES, WE’RE HOOOOOOOME! Oooooh, smells good in here.”

Lucky, who’d been asleep in his bed, bolts up and runs to the door, barking happily while Clint sniffs the air like a bloodhound.

“Gee, I hadn’t noticed,” Natasha deadpans. “What’d you get?”

Bucky forgives her, this time, for abandoning his petting as she uses her hands to sign. He sits himself up, slowly, to see Clint with a shopping bag in his hand and Steve with a tray of hot drinks from what they've now dubbed as their their coffee shop. A successful trip, it seems.

“C’mon Nat, I can’t just tell you what I got for my lucky giftee,” Clint says with a smile. “But this means I’m not the last to finish my shopping this year!”

Bucky and Nat share a look, as if contemplating whether or not to burst Clint’s bubble. Steve, who’s toeing off his shoes, is suspiciously quiet.

“Aw, seriously?” Clint whines, having seen enough of Bucky and Nat’s looks to decipher it. He turns to Steve, eyes narrowed.

“Sorry?” Steve shrugs with a smile that indicates he’s not sorry whatsoever. He makes his way to the couch, handing out drinks.

Clint throws his hands up in exasperation before going to stash his gift in his room.

Liho chooses that moment to jump up onto the arm of the couch, trying to headbutt Steve’s hand.

“Liho, princess, if you spill this macchiato, Bucky will never forgive you,” Steve chuckles.

“Oh please, Bucky falls for a bat of an eyelash,” Nat teases.

“Hey!”

“She’s right, Buck,” Steve agrees, pressing the macchiato into his boyfriend’s hand.

When Clint re-emerges, he’s all smiles again. “Okay, I may be last, but I have the best gift.”

Bucky, halfway through his macchiato in bliss, doesn’t even argue. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve drops a light kiss to his temple from behind the couch, his hands over Bucky’s shoulders, a little lighter on the left side. “Figured it’d be a rough day with your physio. Feeling okay?”

Bucky drops his head on the back of the couch to look up at Steve with his lips pursed for a kiss. “Could be better.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but obliges. Their kiss is a sugary sweet exchange, chaste as it was, and Steve’s voice is softer after. “Seriously, Buck. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky placates. Then with a smug smile, he adds, “I even got pets from Nat.”

“You never —”

Clint is cut off by Natasha, who’s already predicted what he was going to say. “Yes, I have. When you broke your arm falling out of that tree.”

“She petted you for hours after you slipped mopping the kitchen last year,” Steve adds.

“And,” Bucky chimes in, poking Nat to sign for him as he holds onto his lifeline that is the macchiato. “When Lucky was at the vet’s a month after you picked him up.”

“I hate all of you,” Clint chirps, cheerfully as he returns to his earlier quest of sniffing around. “Did you guys make cookies?”

“Nat made cookies,” Bucky corrects. “I —”

“You helped,” Natasha interjects.

“Yeah, sure, I lent a hand,” Bucky replies with a grin, wiggling the fingers of his right hand.

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh, Natasha rolls her eyes and Clint guffaws in the kitchen so enthusiastically he nearly brains himself on the cupboard.

Natasha tugs at Steve’s sleeve to take her place, brushing Bucky’s hair back as she stands. “You pick first!”

Bucky’s eyes widen at the high honour of picking their first movie for the night. The tradition had slowly morphed over the years, but watching scary movies has always been something they all agreed on.

He jumps off the couch gleefully to grab the remote, knowing exactly what he wants to watch. First, he gets distracted by petting Lucky, then refilling the food bowl for Liho and Alpine, then refilling the water dispenser for Biscuit, Steve’s hamster.

Steve diligently starts to pull the blankets and pillows from their rooms. Since Bucky sleeps with an absurd amount of pillows, it takes him two trips just to bring out what he needs from their room. He lays the blue and white duvet that he and Bucky share out on the floor in front of the couch. Haphazardly tossing the pillows down, he moves on to retrieve Nat’s black and red bedding, then the purple monstrosity Clint claims to be his pillow, blanket and eye mask.

“Nat, get the lights! Where’re the cookies at?”

“Clint’s on cookies!”

“Buck, if you take any longer to find your movie, I’m stealing your turn.”

It’s an affair of cookies, coffee and cushions as they all settle in.

Nat settles into Bucky’s right side, taking the tray of cookies from Clint to spread around. She’s tired from the day, and Bucky knows she likely won’t even make it through the movie.

Steve is careful as he sits on Bucky’s left, doing his best not to lean into the aching muscles there. He instead turns his body in, his hands light as he massages Bucky’s shoulder, where it usually aches the most.

Clint obnoxiously lays across their feet in front of them, feet tangling with Steve’s as he rests his head against Nat’s shins, Lucky dutifully takes his place curled up against Clint’s stomach, wagging tail brushing over toes.

Bucky, surrounded by warmth, surrounded by love, passes the remote to Clint so he can hold his drink again.

“Ready?” Clint asks.

They all give him a few love-taps with their toes, and Clint starts Hereditary.

Halfway through the movie, Nat’s soft breaths in Bucky’s ear tell him she’s asleep, and Steve might not be too far behind. Clint’s munching away on cookies, eyes glued to the close captions.

It’s perfect.

It’s home.

“Love you guys,” Bucky whispers, even though nobody can hear him.

#stucky #stucky bingo round 4 #captain bottom bingo 2022 #steve/bucky #stucky fanfiction #fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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miggylol · 11 months

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Hi! Long time liker, occasional reblogger, first time asker piping up to ask what your favorite Rimworld mods are! I just picked it up and am enjoying it so far, minus getting wrecked by rabid squirrels an embarrassing amount...

OH BOY LOL ARE YOU IN FOR A LONG ANSWER

First off: I am someone who takes zero shame in enabling Development Mode, so my subscriptions are big on adding complexity to the game while being able to address things spiraling out of control with a panic button. If you're not into that, I would ramp up slowly with these.

Putting behind a cut, because again: long.

For context, though they're not all currently active, I'm subscribed to 268 mods. ...I am not going to recommend them all.

Here are some favorites I would recommend for starting to round out the game. I'm grouping them up into significant vs. smaller QoL improvements. If you enjoy a mod, I would highly recommend going to your subscription page and checking out that modmaker's full workshop to see what else looks fun. That's how I discovered most of these.

Big Deal Mods

Harmony - a framework mod required by a lot of other mods.

HugsLib - same deal. Use autosort with your mods, and these will get moved up to the top where they need to be.

Humanoid Alien Races - and another framework. Needed for a bunch of new race mods, e.g. if you want Star Wars alien races. (I'm sure someone's made that somewhere.)

Hospitality - you can host visitors from other factions, improve relations, and even convince the visitors to join your faction.

Expanded Prosthetics and Organ Engineering - exactly what it says. A huge new range of options to buy/craft, from very low tech emergency options to very powerful upgrades.

Pawnmorpher - quite possibly the inspiration for Biotech, and in some ways I still prefer parts of it to that gene system. (But I do have a bunch of fun playing with genes.) You can upgrade pawns with fur for their boreal home, or downgrade them all the way into mindless animals.

Ambition of the Cosmic - adds a bunch of high-tech research tiers above and beyond the core game.

Glittertech - adds a bunch of new tech and gear, along with a new faction (commandos) who pose a strong lategame threat. They'll ignore you until you're worth their while.

Misc. Robots - this came well before the Biotech mechanoids, and here, I clearly prefer it. It requires research and materials (or buying from a trader), but you can get mindless hauling and cleaning robots that let your pawns focus on more important tasks. They're available in different tiers for speed/battery life.

Misc. Robots++ - adds the other types of robots (crafting, cooking, etc.). I enjoy setting up a custom starting scenario with one rich, pampered explorer and a bunch of robots.

Prepare Carefully - lets you super-customize your pawns for the starting experience you want. I use this (and the next one) to craft myself a group of pawns from [some fandom] and watch the chaos develop.

Character Editor - I actually use this one a lot more. It's a great way to change the basics of individual pawns at any point, and can also adjust their health conditions. I refuse to let some beloved pets bleed out! (The pawns themselves... whatever.)

More Vanilla Biomes - obviously only applies for newly-generated worlds, but these are some interesting new conditions to deal with. I'm a big fan of grasslands and cloud forests.

Dubs Bad Hygiene - adds hygiene/bladder needs. This will make the early game harder, as your pawns deal with being miserable and filthy. As you are able to take better care of them, you'll instead see them with mood buffs from being nice and clean, enjoying the swimming pool and hot tub, etc. I don't know why, but I love this mod to pieces. Lol.

TD Enhancement Pack - DOWNLOAD THIS ONE, IF NOTHING ELSE. All this shit should be in the base game.

Quality of Life Mods

Metals Trader - adds an orbital trader that's the best place to find certain materials. Not a big deal if you like to play mountain bases, very useful elsewhere.

Smarter Deconstruction and Mining - should avoid your pawns bringing down roofs on top of themselves.

Faction Customizer - yep. What it says. You can easily make other factions your allies or enemies.

Variety Matters - pawns expect a certain level of variety in their diet, based on colony wealth. Like with Hygiene, it'll be more challenging early on but can add buffs later.

Tier 2 Temperature - you can research additional temperature control devices.

Vanilla Plants Expanded - also look at Oscar Potocki's Workshop linked at the top of the page. Vanilla _______ Expanded is a MASSIVE collection he's created, and there's a shitton of neat stuff in there.

Healer Mech Serum Choice - you can pick which condition it's used on.

Stockpile Ranking - I put this as a QoL mod, but honestly, it's pretty core to how I play. You can prioritize different stockpiles, so—for example—I can set medicine to critical inside my infirmary, and rest assured that it'll be placed there instead of over in the general spillover warehouse. (While still allowing myself lots of room to store all of the different types of medicine I have access to with all of my mods.)

Tilled Soil - with effort, your pawns can turn any growable soil into fertile soil.

Prisoner Harvesting - :)

Incident Person Stat - get a feeling for what sort of stranger you're dealing with, so you can avoid admitting a pawn being chased by maneaters only to discover they're a pyromaniac.

Apparel Tainted Only When Corpse Rots - it's so much easier to clothe your pawns in early game with this.

Bad Can Be Good - re-balances some bad traits and gives them tradeoffs.

VGP Vegetable Garden - again, linking for the workshop at the top. Tons of mods for new crops, etc.

Ore Yields - yep. Adjustable.

Tradeable Meals - another way to make money, if you're flush with crops and meat.

Tech Advancing - you can customize when you move up to the next tier (e.g. Industrial -> Spacer).

Smarter Construction - get this one. Your life will be much less frustrating.

RimHUD - a nice redesign of the pawn info window.

Lightning Rod - once you have the resources to spare, storms become much less of a threat.

Replace Stuff - yep. Replace it without dismantling the old one, first. Terrific for situations like, say, upgrading your freezer walls to something non-flammable.

OgreStack - adjust stack sizes for all items. Get this one.

Medical Tab - adds a tab where you can see everyone's medical conditions at a glance. Check this workshop, too; there are other good tabs you can add.

Mad Skills - adjust learning speeds, slow or turn off knowledge decay, etc. Very useful.

Map Designer - you can set specific conditions (e.g., maybe you want a fuckton of ruins, or mountains at a certain angle, or a river so wide that it's nearly impassable). You can also reroll a map to get variations on its core features. Love this mod.

Adjust Quest Chance - there are some quests I hate and will never accept, and others I'd want more of. I can go in and adjust my chances accordingly.

Quick Stockpile Creation - so simple. So nice. The very definition of a QoL mod.

Underground Power Conduits - and finally: NO MORE UGLY WIRES EVERYWHERE.

Okay, as mentioned, this is just a small fraction of my subscriptions, but... I am sure it's more than enough. More. Than. Enough.

#turtledovlin #rimworld

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shartt-let · 6 months

Text

Chapter 2 - Damn Bugs

The door creaked as Anan pushed it open and walked into the facility. A slowly rotating fan made lazy shadows along the wall in front of them and to her right she could hear Paxton’s footsteps echoing down the metal corridor. Ahead of them, through the open doorway, she could see a stone walled hallway, clearly built into the surrounding hill. A single light hung from the ceiling, swinging back and forth ever so slightly. It wasn’t silent in the facility, the faint buzzing of a generator penetrated through the thick walls, along with various creaks and thuds Anan tried to chalk up to an old building and not to something terrifying lurking down in the dark. She gave one last check to her belt to make sure she had everything she needed, not that there was much she was carrying, an old radio and a flashlight were about all she had. At least I’ll be light on my feet, she thought.

A loud noise to their left threw Anan out of her thoughts and both Kristopher and she looked to the door, but nothing could be seen through the dusty glass window. “Why don’t we go this way.” Kristopher finally said. Anan was grateful to let someone else lead the way. She trusted in her ability to defend herself from other humans, but from what he had told her, they weren’t exactly the concern in a place like this.

As they walked through the doorway, Kristopher took out his radio and flipped it on, “Art, do you read me?”

A crackle of static, then Arturo’s gruff voice came through the small speaker, “Yeah, whaddya want?” Anan rolled her eyes, but Kristopher kept his response level.

“I uh- forgot to check our quota, what is it?”

His annoyance was palpable, “325, anything else I can do for you?” He asked, sarcastically.

“No, thank you.” He didn’t even give him a chance to respond before flicking off his radio. “You know, I appreciate everything he does for the team, but would it kill him to be a little nicer?” Kristopher turned to Anan and gave her a crooked smile.

“Yeah,” she laughed softly, “it seems like he can be a bit of an uh- “

“An asshole?”

“Well, I was gonna say an old man, but I guess that to.”

“Eh, don’t let him get to you. He’s seen more than any of us could ever imagine.” His voice trailed off. “Anyways, were just wasting time, come on, we’ve got 325 credits to make.” He continued walking and Anan trailed close behind.

The stone hallway she had seen earlier turned out to be much larger than she imagined. It opened up into countless winding corridors, she had no idea how anyone would have been able to find their way around this place, back when it was still in operation. Large copper pipes lined the walls as they walked, and occasionally they would find one that was leaking, shooting hot steam into the hallway, blocking their vision entirely. Anan typically stayed outside of the steam cloud keeping an eye out while Kristopher went in to fix it. She wondered how Paxton was able to manage on his own.

After over an hour of wandering around on the first level, they had yet to find anything, scrap or otherwise. Kristopher finally suggested that they take the stairs down to see if there was anything left over. He explained that Paxton had chosen Assurance specifically for Anan, because she was so new. This was one of the safer moons, but it was also the most picked through. Over the years, hundreds of other employees had landed on bases just like the one they were on now, also hoping to make a quick buck. He suggested going deeper might yield more scraps. “Just keep your eyes peeled for anything.”

Their footfalls on the metal stairs echoed loudly through the hallways and Anan cringed at the sheer amount of noise the two of them were able to produce. She suddenly found herself wishing for her old worn-out sneakers instead of her bulky, too-large boots. Even so, Kristopher himself made double the amount of noise she did, she huffed and tried to focus on stepping carefully.

“Hey also, keep an eye out for landmines and turrets.” He said, too nonchalantly for her comfort.

“For what? Landmines? What are you talking about?”

“Uh, after the conflict, ya know?” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “The Xeo rebels knew that Lexion would come looking for all the metal that was left behind after they were kicked off the moons. I think they knew they wouldn’t make it, so they wanted to make it hell for whatever assholes came to take this shit. And who else would want it besides Lexion?”

A beat, “You mean us, right? We’re the assholes who are doing their bidding?”

Kristopher smiled and held his hands up sarcastically as they continued down the halls, “Hey there is no official connection between The Company and Lexion, but it is kinda strange how fast The Company popped up after they finally kicked Lexion outta the system.”

Anan laughed, “You can’t be serious. The treaties were written to keep Lexion from having anything to do with the system. I’m sure The Company is just profiting from everything that was left over. I’d probably do the same if it made me enough money.”

“You would send hundreds of people through some of the most dangerous conditions in the universe for a few creds?” His tone was still as light as always, but Anan could tell her argument was faltering.

“Well… I mean. I guess not, I’m just saying…”

“Yeah, and I’m just saying that the timing is weird, that’s all.” They continued walking in silence for a few moments before coming on a room with a bright golden light streaming from behind the half open door. “Oh shit, apparatus. Come on, I need your help with this one.”

Inside the room was a large metal structure encasing a tube that almost looked like it contained solid sunlight. Anan’s eyes were wide as she went forward to touch it.

“Ah, I would wait,” Kristopher called from behind her, “We can’t take that out just yet.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the apparatus of the facility, it’s basically the power source of this whole place. Once we pull it, all the lights will go out. Tends to make the things in here go a little crazy. But the fact that we found it still intact makes me think that there will be more stuff that people missed nearby.”

“Got it.” Anan busied herself with looking around. The lights on this side of the facility still worked, and things were pretty quiet, so they decided it was safe to split up, provided they were still within shouting distance. Kristopher was right, and after looking through a couple near empty storage rooms, Anan had found more scrap than they had in the entire time they had been on this moon. With her arms full of various empty cans and jars, she started retracing her steps back to the apparatus room.

“Kristopher?” She yelled, “Hey, Kris, are you there?” No response, she set down her stuff in a small pile beside the apparatus and started walking in the direction she last saw him walk. “Kristopher? Can you hear me?” Still nothing. She couldn’t tamp down the anxiety that was starting to simmer in her stomach. Distantly, she heard something calling. Immediately she fell into a sprint, calling his name the whole time. Finally, turning a corner, she found him surrounded by several massive bugs. She always hated bugs. They reminded Anan of the roaches that lived in her kitchen back home on Pliea. They would scurry out in a thick black wave once she or her mom would flick the lights on.

Unfortunately, these didn’t want to leave once the light from her flashlight hit them, instead they screeched and turned towards her. Up on their back legs, they must have been almost 4 feet tall. She could hear Kristopher telling her to run, but her body worked faster than her brain. She took the butt end of her flashlight and swung it right at the gaping mouth of the bug closest to her. It skidded back against the concrete, and she turned on another to her right.

Out of the corner of her eye, in the dim light, she saw Kristopher reach down to grab something, and before she knew it, all three of the bugs were running away and down the hall, following a flying shard of metal. “Are you ok?” Kristopher asked, his voice urgent.

Anan looked at him, there were several holes in his suit and small stains of blood were spreading around them. “Are you?” She asked, probably louder than was necessary, “We need to get you back, come on” She started to bend down to pick up the scraps that he had left, hurrying to get him back to the ship. Maybe the wounds themselves weren’t serious but who knows what kind of infections those things carried.

“No, Anan, we need to get the apparatus, those things are worth a lot, probably a third of our quota right there. I’m ok, let's just get out of here. Also, does your radio not work? I was trying to call for you.”

Anan felt her face go pale, she had forgotten to turn it on when they left the ship, “I- I thought that we were staying within shouting distance.” Her voice lacked the conviction she wanted.

“Whatever, we need to get going.” He pulled his own radio out of his belt and talked into it, “Hey, Pax? Are you there? I just got fucked by some lootbugs, we need to go. But we’ve got an apparatus here. Are you ready to leave?”

Paxton’s muffled response came through, “Yeah, pull it. I’m on my way out.”

He put the radio away and picked up the rest of his scrap that way laying on the floor. Quickly, the two of them walked back to the room with the apparatus. “Okay,” Kristopher finally said, “When we pull this, shit is going to get crazy, are you ready to run once we do? There really isn’t any point in being quiet, we just gotta be fast. I’ll carry it if you keep a light ahead of us. Ok?”

Anan nodded and Kristopher got to work. It took almost all of his strength to yank it from the wall, and as soon as he did, all of the lights around them cut out. For a moment, it was as if all sound had been cut out from the empty halls completely. Anan didn’t like it.

“Let’s go. Now.” Kristopher said, and he took off out the door. Anan flicked on her flashlight and followed after him.

The trip back to the entrance was horrible. She could no longer chalk up all the sounds to just residual plumbing or electricity. Every noise was a warning of something horrible to come. But with Kristopher’s injuries, she was unable to urge him to go any faster than he already was. She could see that he was in pain, holding the large apparatus, but she didn’t dare offer to switch roles. It would take too long, and she didn’t want to be in the facility any longer than she had to.

The uneasy silence was interrupted by the crackle of a radio and the voice of Arturo, “Hey, not to alarm you two, but there is something on your tail. I’d pick up the pace.”

Anan fumbled in her belt and flicked her own radio on, “What is it?”

“I don’t know what it is, but I do know you had better start hauling ass” he replied, both annoyed and anxious at the same time.

How the hell doesn’t he know what it is, Anan thought, but she bit her tongue. They needed to run. “Can you go any faster?” She said to Kristopher who was beginning to lag behind her.

“Uh, no, not really.” He was panting just trying to keep pace with her jog.

“Dammit” she muttered, more to herself. She slowed down just enough to run right along side him, and yanked the apparatus out of his hand, thrusting her flashlight into his empty one, “Come on, you were the one who told me we needed to be fast runners, right? Let’s go.” He didn’t respond, but his breathing became slightly less ragged, and he was able to keep up with Anan’s now faster pace.

Just as they reached the same metal stairs they had climbed down; she heard the thumping. So quiet she could have missed it, but it was definitely there. She let Kristopher run up the stairs first, then followed quickly behind him. She made sure to slam the doors they passed through closed behind them, but she didn’t know what good it would do. She certainly couldn’t lock them, but maybe it would slow down whatever was following them.

Finally, Anan saw the first evidence of natural light, it was coming through a door right ahead of them, “That way!” She yelled, allowing relief to creep back into her, maybe they were going to make it. Pushing through the final door, she was once again in the entrance room, the same shadows from the fan over the door were laying on the floor. The two of them pushed their full weight into the front door and let it slam behind them.

“Holy shit,” Kristopher was panting next to her, “We made it.”

“What the hell was that behind us?” She said, also trying to catch her breath.

“No idea, but I don’t want to find out. Come on, lets get back to the ship, I’m sure Paxton is back on by now.” The stains on his suit had spread, but there was still color in his face and Anan was confident he could at least make it back to the ship.

“Hey, what were those things, that did that,” she pointed to his chest, “to you?”

“Lootbugs, they’re harmless, normally.” He smiled weakly, “They hoard scraps and don’t like people taking what is theirs. I must have taken something from their nest. Once I gave it back, they left me alone, they just had me cornered before I could do that.”

“Oh, I’m just glad you’re ok.” She was still ashamed she couldn’t have been there sooner; she couldn’t help but feel that his injuries were her own fault. “I’m sorry. About the radio. I should have turned it on.”

“Hey, its ok,” he turned his head to look at her properly. “It was your first run, and I would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t done what you did. Don’t sweat it. Anyways, we need to get back. We shouldn’t be out here after dark. Let’s go.”

Their walk back to the ship was slow, but neither had much energy left in them to go much faster than a walk. The sun sat low in the sky but already the air was beginning to develop a chill. Anan didn’t know exactly what they had to worry about after dark, but she wasn’t particularly keen on finding out.

By the time the two of them reached the ship, the shadows cast by the setting sun stretched long against the dusty red ground. They stepped up the short ladder and walked in through the open door on the ship. As soon as they were in, the doors slid closed, and Arturo started the autopilot on the navigation console. The ship jolted slightly before lifting smoothly into the air.

“Hey.” Paxton’s voice startled Anan out of her exhausted haze, “Do you want to explain why none of us could reach you?” Her eyes widened as he ripped her radio out of her belt and held it up.

“I- er, I forgot.” Came her sheepish reply, she knew it wasn’t good enough, but it was the truth. She had truly forgotten to turn it on.

“You could have died, he could have died,” He pointed at Kristopher, who was sitting on his bunk trying to patch up his various bites and scratches. He looked up and stared at Paxton who took a step back away from Anan. There was something unsaid in their stare, but she couldn’t discern it.

“Pax, stop. She saved my life. I wouldn’t be here right now if she hadn’t stepped in when she did. Plus, remember how much of an idiot I was when I started?” His eyes were colder than Anan was used to.

“Was? Kid, you still are!” Arturo’s response earned harsh glares from all three, he laughed to himself and turned back to the console.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that you should give her a break. She’s not some idiot, okay?” Kristopher said.

“Hey,” Anan finally butted in, “Would any of you like to let me speak for myself here?” All three pairs of eyes turned to her, “I’m sorry I forgot to turn my radio on, that is my fault. But Kristopher is right, I know how to handle myself.”

Paxton and Kristopher continued to stare daggers at one another. Anan couldn’t help but smile as she was thrust into a memory of her old arguments with her brother, they would have the same staring contests, not really arguing, but still fighting. Their mom would normally have to come in and break the two of them up.

Finally, Paxton spoke, “Fine,” he turned to Anan, “But it doesn’t happen again, your radio is always charged and always stays on when not in this ship. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir.” She replied.

“Hey I’m not a fuckin cap-“ Anan flashed him a smile before walking over to Kristopher who was laughing at his flustered response.

“Want a hand cleaning those up?” She asked him, pointing to his wounds. Behind them, Paxton had turned to type something into the computer terminal.

“Uh, yeah, if you’re offering.” He gave her a crooked half smile while she stepped out of her orange suit, wondering if there would be an opportunity to clean it anytime soon. She took the med-kit from his hands and looked through it quickly, impressed with the selection available.

She made quick work of his injuries, they were very mild, nothing she hadn’t seen before. But she made special care to disinfect them properly, still worried about alien infections. “Had a lot of practice with this kinda stuff?” He asked her.

“Yeah, a bit. I’m not like a pro or anything, but doctors were overworked enough back home.”

“Where is home for you?” He asked, wincing as she pressed a cotton round soaked in alcohol into a particularly wide gash on his shoulder.

“Pliea, at first. After the conflict ended, I’ve been drifting. But Pliea will always be home. How about you?”

“Oh, I grew up on one of Gordion’s moons, not really much to talk about, used to be a farming economy ages ago, became a mining economy, pretty common story, I guess. I left as soon as I was old enough to work, not a lot back home. Plus I’ve got my Ma and family to take care of.” Anan hummed, she had heard stories like his, people forced to roam the system, wiring money back home. Moments like these made her almost grateful it was just her.

“None of these are bad enough for stitches, you’re lucky. Lemme just bandage these up and you’re good. Everything feel okay?” She pulled out a wad of white gauze.

“Yeah, you should give yourself more credit, you’re a natural.” Anan smiled softly as she secured the gauze to his cuts. After wiping away some stray bits of dried blood, she let him put his shirt back on. “Anyone want some food?” He offered, pulling an airtight box out from the red storage locker. Paxton and Arturo’s heads turned at the same time, pausing whatever they were doing to eat.

“I think I’ll just go shower” Anan said, a sudden wave of weakness hitting her body, “I’m not really that hungry.”

“You need to eat.” Paxton huffed as he pulled out a brown packaged rectangle from the box, but he didn’t push her, which she was grateful for.

Anan hopped up onto her bunk and gathered a pair of clothes, along with her soap and toothbrush. Wanting to do nothing more than sleep, she figured a shower would do her better in the long run. She just had to pray there was hot water.

There wasn’t of course, but being able to wash the sweat and grime off her body was such a blessing that she could excuse the cold water. She was careful to not go for too long, not really knowing how large of a water tank the ship had. Once her skin felt clean enough, she dressed herself in her sleeping clothes and stepped back out into the main compartment. The overhead lights were off, the only light came from the navigation console, the only person still out of bed was Arturo. Anan took a deep breath, she was hungry and needed to eat, but wanted to avoid contact with him as much as possible. She grabbed the same bar she had seen them all eat previously and headed to the only other empty chair.

Right as she sat down, he turned on his chair to face her. “You ain’t supposed to be here, girl.”

Anan could feel the blood drain out of her face. She stopped messing with the package and sat perfectly still, as though by not moving she could avoid his scrutiny.

“I did a bit of digging on you,” he continued, “something ‘bout you seemed not quite right. Pretty sure there’s a strict age limit at The Company.” He was right, she was almost three years shy of the 25-year-old minimum to apply, but she needed this job.

Finally, she bit back, no longer feeling the need to hold her tongue. She kept her voice low, but there was no way to know if the other two were really sleeping, “I honestly don’t know how my personal details are any of your damn business. How dare you pry into my private inf-” he cut her off with a hearty chuckle.

“Ah, don’t worry. Not like I’m s’pposed to be here either. You see these fuckin’ legs? They don’t let cripples like me in. But hey, I’ve got a proclivity for staring at screens,” he flashed her a toothy smile, “Company has no business keeping us from making some creds, ‘specially if we’re risking our damn lives every day for them.” Anan stared, wide eyed at him, “You’re a good kid, you kept Mr. Family Man alive today, wouldn’t wanna tell his Ma he got eaten by a damn bug. And,” he paused, his voice turning sincere, “I oughta apologize for the way I treated you when you arrived. It sure as shit ain’t my place to judge, we’re all just trying to make it out here, huh?”

Anan finally allowed herself to smile, “I owe you an apology too, Arturo, I judged you wrong, and I figure that this crew wouldn’t last a day here without you.” He smiled back, she continued, “As long as you don’t let The Company know I’m underage, I promise to keep your secret to myself too, deal?”

He stuck out a thick, hair covered hand, “We’ve got a deal young lady.”

They chatted absently about nothing until she was finished eating. Finally, Anan excused herself to go to sleep, climbing up the bunks careful to not disrupt the other two sleeping. She pulled the shabby drape shut over the opening and let herself fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

#lethal company #fanfiction #lethal company fanfiction

0 notes

bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Text

Request: nii!bokuto fucking y/n dumb at a team reunion party and the whole team ends up joining.

Okay so I made it so the whole team is there but Akaashi and Konoha are the only ones who really get to do anything. The others are enjoying the show.

Warnings: incest, humping/grinding, voyeurism/exhibitionism, watersports/piss play, gangbang, squirting, fire play/lighter use, breeding, dirty talk, cum shots, human urinal, thigh riding, asphyxiation briefly creampie, swallowing urine

Kōtarō-nii + Gangbang [includes Bokuto, Akaashi, Konoha]

It’s just supposed to be a little get together was what you were told. Two hours later, each old teammate of Bokuto was still downstairs, chatting and laughing. Every time Bokuto laughed so joyously, it rubbed you the wrong way. It was like he forgot about you, sitting back and talking to his old teammates. You were supposed to be hidden out of sight, but your needs needed to be met and if that meant walking downstairs to remind your brother you were still waiting for him, that’s what you’d do.

You didn’t expect him and his friends to wave you over.

“[Y/N]! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Visiting your nii-san, eh?” Komi asked, an eyebrow raised. ‘Visiting’ was one way to put it, but you were actually living with Bokuto, guest room still unused as your belongings were in his bedroom.

“Guess you could say that,” Bokuto threw out, then continued. “She’s going to college here, so it’s easier to live with me than pay for on-campus living,”

“Saving money, I see,” Akaashi piped up, taking a drink from his glass. It was just water, which meant they weren’t drinking alcohol. Bokuto had a soda, but everyone else looked like they were drinking tea or water.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Bokuto tapped you on the shoulder, making you turning your head towards him. “Can you get me another drink?”

“Of course, Kōtarō-nii,” taking his empty bottle, you go into the kitchen to see where he keeps the soda. Since he doesn’t want you to have any, they’re usually up high. Standing on your toes, you still can’t reach the sweet drinks. To speed up the time, you hop on the counter only to feel someone’s hands guiding you off.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Bokuto says, caging you to the counter. “I thought I told you to stay upstairs,”

“I was bored, nii-san,” you whine, pressing yourself against him. “You’re ignoring me,”

“I’m entertaining my guests. You need to learn how to be patient,” he whispers, one of his hands rubbing at the spot between your thighs. “You’re dripping. Have you been touching yourself?”

“It’s not the same, plea—”

“If you’re good, I’ll fill you up so many times you’ll be swollen with my seed, how about that?” You nod your head, still pressing yourself against him. “Stop pushing yourself on me or I’m gonna have to punish you,”

With a final warning, Bokuto gets his own drink and removes himself from you, sighing as he sees your pout. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he pats your head. “Just another hour, okay?”

That’s what he said.. an hour ago.

Sitting beside him was almost too much to bear. Knowing he could take you whenever he wanted to and him knowing you’re desperately waiting for him to touch you, it’s all too much. Even as your thoughts swim with the image of him absolutely ravishingly you in front of his friends, your pleading eyes and a pout his way whenever he glances at you, yet all he gives is his arm around your shoulders. As a good big brother should, but this is getting to be too much.

Sarukai is the one who decided to play a game. It was a silly card game you played as kids, but it was fun to pass time. Since you didn’t wanna play, you had to sacrifice your spot to Akaashi, your bottom instead being placed on Bokuto’s thigh. A warning squeeze on your hip was all you got, quickly telling them that you were cold which they all brushed off, going on with the game. He was like a heater, warmth rising from beneath his clothes, but it just made you more hot and bothered. It wasn’t until he started rubbing a hand on your thigh — inner thigh, included, his fingers brushing against your sensitive area — did you really feel impatient.

You hoped nobody would notice as your body started moving, and it seemed like they didn’t. Legs on either side of his thigh, you rubbing yourself against him, trying to get as much friction as you could. Bokuto doesn’t stop you, his hand instead rubbing soothing circles into your hip as you continue to grind against his thigh. Eventually, you end up humping his thigh as the rubbing effect wears off, only to have him lean down to your ear. “You can’t wait, can’t you? Such a needy slut needs to be punished, you know?”

There’s no other warning, you suddenly being pushed in the middle of the game as everyone shoots back in shock, surprised at Bokuto’s actions. “You’ve wanted this for a bit, haven’t you? That’s why you’re even wetter, isn’t it?” He smiles down at you, prying your shorts off. He then addresses the guests of his abode, “you guys get to see how much my beloved sister loves me,”

With your shorts and panties off, you’re staining the wooden table with your dripping juices as Bokuto gets his cock out. His friends seem into it, sitting back on the couches and chairs, eyes glued to the way Bokuto spreads your sopping cunt, clenching around nothing as you wait for him in anticipation. Licking his lips, he sinks into you, without letting you adjust as your legs tense and your toes curl, squeezing him as he pushes himself all the way in.

“Did you already cum?” He asks, seemingly dumbfounded by your sudden orgasm. You don’t answer, simply keeping your head against the table and having your eyes rolled into the back of your head. With no response, he decides to roughly thrust up into you, making you gasp as he pushes in so far, feeling so full as he snaps his hips to yours, your hands grasping at the edges of the table as you moan. Through your blurry vision, you’re able to see his old teammates with their own cocks out, hands around the thick appendages as their eyes are trained on how well you take in their former captain’s cock.

It’s only mere seconds before you’re mewling, back arching as you’re clamping around his cock again, body twisting with the force of your orgasm as you shake. Bokuto removes himself from your cunt, though, making you whine. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna let my friends have a turn with you, though. You seem eager Akaashi, wanna go first?”

“I’d much prefer her mouth than her pussy, Bokuto-san,” he says, moving around to your head. His cock comes into view, to which you eagerly open your mouth to take him in, tongue killing out to lick at the tip.

“I won’t pass up free pussy,” Konoha chuckles, taking Bokuto’s position and pushing into you. “Thought she’d be loose after taking a cock that big, but you’re tight as a virgin!” He laughs, pinching your clit as you squeeze down on him even more, muffled moans coming from your throat which is stuffed with Akaashi’s cock.

“Mhm! I taught her well, didn’t I?” Bokuto hums, guiding one of your hands to his cock. “Don’t forget about me, baby girl,” he says, low as he watches your hand jerk him off. Despite your eyes not being anywhere around his form, your hand works expertly from experience of handjobs. Akaashi seems pleased himself, fingers occasionally tracing your jaw and throat, only to close your nose as he face fucks you. Konoha seems to be enjoying himself, as well, your legs secured around his waist as he thrusts into you, his thumb rubbing at your bundle of nerves that has milky fluid coating his cock with each thrust.

“I’m close, can I do it inside?” He asks, looking at Bokuto, using his own hand to guide yours.

“No. You can cum in her ass, but not her cunt. That’s only for her nii-san, isn’t that right?” He directs the last bit at you, fingers pinching your nipples as your body jerks. Konoha decides to pull out, letting his semen paint your stomach white as he groans, making sure every drop lands on your skin. Akaashi is right behind him, closing your nose as he shoots his own load down your throat, your eyes glazed over as you drink it all.

Konoha takes it upon himself to push back into your cunt, feeling your walls clamp around him once more time. It’s too much and you feel something warm fill your insides, eyes widening as you think he put a load in you. When he pulls out, however, you feel it trickling out as the warm liquid drips from your cunt. “Seems she’ll only take cum, not piss,”

“She’ll take it, won’t you, pretty girl?” Bokuto coos, fingers keeping your mouth open as Akaashi takes his turn, warm liquid filling your mouth as you struggle to not let any spill. Once he’s done, Bokuto closes your mouth and nose to force it down, your eyes squeezed shut as it tastes bitter. “See? Just gotta know which hole to use. It’s okay, I’ll clean her out so you can use her again,” he hums once more, pushing his thick cock into your still leaking pussy. The force of his thrust has you mewling, drool spilling from your lips as your body jostles with each thrust. “There’s a cute little trick her cunt will do if you give her a bit of pain,” he grunts, fishing a lighter out of his pocket. Your eyes widen at the familiar click of the item, brief light before it’s shut off. He hands it to Konoha, who then flicks it on as he brings the fire close to your face, the light dancing ridiculously close to your cheek. Akaashi keeps you fron moving your head, sweat beginning to form as Konoha brings the lighter closer, the flame barely licking your skin as you scream, tongue lolling out as your squirt all over Bokuto’s abdomen, his groan overwhelmed by your cute noises. With another thrust, he’s spilling his own load into you, fill you up exactly how you wanted him to.

Konoha shuts off the lighter, then locks across the mark against your cheek where the flame touched you, pressing a sweet kiss in apology to the hot skin. “Now, what do we say, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for filling me up nii-san. I’ll take anything you give to me, I promise,” you sweetly say, another moan as you feel Bokuto’s piss fill you up as well, his thumb rubbing your clit.

“Don’t worry, baby. Only I’ll be able to breed you, but my friends can have their fun, can’t they? I’ll promise to give you all my attention later, is that okay?” Your response is a nod of the head, the rest of his friends eager to have your holes and your hands around their cocks.

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Note

request: an MC thats very good w playing games or like,,, is proficiently skilled in all game categories or smrhn

alsp hi xander i love ur writing

and can i giv u a kith? if so: mwah 😚

Well I hate to tell ya, sweetie, but I’m not Xander. I’m Jazzy. Hello! I can see why you’d want something written by Xander, though. He’s mad talented (better at this than I am quite frankly) and he’s on the list of people I wish I could write as well as. I guess we can both take a moment to be sad that I’m not Xander… *sigh*... to be Xander… 😔

Oh well, I am who I am and I don’t begrudge that fact. Meanwhile, I’ve wanted to do more shout-outs so everybody go read @sevendeadlymorons! If you’re not… I mean… why not? He’s more than worth your time. In the meantime, I hope I can entertain you despite my not-Xanderness.

Brothers React to an MC Who’s Good at Games and Stuff

Lucifer

Honestly couldn’t care less about the MC’s game proficiency in most cases. So they’re good at games? Good for them, he’s sure they’re happy.

But when they’re playing against him on the other hand…

Well, Lucifer may or may not be skilled at whatever game you set him on (he’s a very quick learner so never underestimate him), but he’s whole new levels of competitive when he wants to be. ESPECIALLY if he already thinks he’s hot shit at something.

Video games? Not his forte. Table top games? One word for you: Chess.

Lucifer believes that he can and will whip pretty much anyone’s ass in chess. That includes Satan, Solomon, Levi, and even Diavolo. He is at grandmaster level.

So imagine his shock, no, his disdain to have lost a game of chess to the MC… The moment they said "Checkmate" he stared at the board in front of them for a solid five minutes trying to work out where he went wrong…

And he wasn’t having that.

He and the MC now have regular chess matches in which he wins some and loses some so the tally stays pretty evenly tied. Really it’s all good fun... (but if they think he’s going to let them go home when he’s on a losing count, they’re Dead. Wrong. He’ll drag them back to down just to play chess with him until the score is right again. He DOES NOT lose, you hear? 🤨).

Mammon

Guess who’s found his gambling buddy??

No, really. He and the MC can make a KILLING at a Poker or Blackjack table! He’s never seen anyone better at poker than they are!! They have nerves of steel and give nothing away, so he’s lost more than a few hands to them before...

Even past the casinos, they’re perfect for making bets on! He once arranged a Devil Cart competition between the MC and Levi and took bets around RAD for who’d win...

Naturally, everybody assumed the Devildom’s resident Super-Otaku would win hands down, but the MC had this insane last minute save with a blue shell and pulled ahead in the last lap!!

He was like, the only person that bet on the MC and he got soooo much money that MC found HIM crying and hugging a bag of Grimm after the match…

Any time they win a game that gets him money, he’ll treat them like royalty for the next week. Man knows not to bite the hand that feeds him!... and creditors at bay... 😬

It may get slightly annoying that Mammon won't stop telling them about gaming competitions where they can get him more prize money, but hey, at least he's supportive, I guess.

Leviathan

Oh they are either his best friend or mortal enemy… Sometimes both in the same day.

Our boy hates losing, can't stand it any better than Lucifer, you KNOW the second he knows there's someone out there who even has a chance of beating him, he gets serious. This is not a "friendly rivalry," MC.

When they’re playing any game against each other, he'll call them by their gamertag/online persona to keep himself focused (yes, even if they’re playing Monopoly). They can't be his MC right now, they gotta be the person he's going to beat...

He's NOT opposed to dirty tactics to win, either. Saying things that will get them mad or flustered mid-match? Check. Using his tail to distract or tease them? Check. Just being a general nuisance/annoyance in game for the hell of it? Guilty as charged!

He's both a sore winner AND a sore loser, so unfortunately MC, you really can't win here... He'll be obnoxious regardless of the outcome.

However… when they’re on the same team, it's really something special. They don't just destroy the competition, they bulldoze over them like an armored tank barreling through rush hour traffic!

These two are legends in the online gaming community and have even started a streaming channel on the side. Sometimes your worst enemies also make the best allies... Who knew? 🤷‍♀️

Satan

Is surprisingly impressed by their gaming prowess. Are they just supremely skilled or incredibly lucky, you think…?

That being said, he's not the biggest gaming man on the planet so he's not too competitive with them one way or the other.

When Satan plays a video game, he usually goes for story-based, single-person experiences anyway so it's not like he could compete with them even if he wanted to.

That being said, they do share an informal challenge of sorts when it comes to puzzle/detective games (a not so guilty pleasure of his). He likes to try and beat the levels first, so when they start playing a new one they'll both compare time spent and scores.

He even enjoys playing those Devildom-style AR murder mystery games with them! It’s pretty cute to watch Satan get into it, he dips into his inner Levi and cosplays as some of his favorite TV drama detectives for the occasion and insists they dress as his co-star (best just go along with him. It’s not a bad time, even if they have to carry around an old tobacco pipe for a few hours).

Asmodeus

Good at games? That sounds dangerously like they're another Levi… 🙄 What about party games? Oh oh, or drinking games??

Actually scratch that. How about ANY game while drunk? That sounds pretty fun doesn’t it??

Like Drunk Truth or Dare!! Oh that's a favorite of his… 🤭

To be fair to the MC, the booze does diminish their skills somewhat (because that's kind of what it does in general) but not by all that much… It's pretty impressive.

He once challenged them to a game of Drunk Twister figuring that they'd be too unsteady to actually win for once, but no. If anything, the alcohol must have numbed the stretching pains because they bent over him like a pretzel!

Not that he was complaining or anything… 😏

He likes to take the MC to parties where he knows a game or two will be played just to show off to the crowd and brag that they’re HIS lovely, talented human! You go, MC, beat that competition to a pulp! 😌

Beelzebub

Sports count as games too, right? Well, they aren't half bad at those either.

Beel found it surprising that he found a human who could actually keep up with him. His brothers rarely want to play practice games with him anyway so it’s pretty exciting to have a sports partner at home!

He likes to ask the MC to help him train with practice matches or to go over certain moves or maneuvers he’s having trouble with. It’s not uncommon for the brothers to come home and find the two of them tossing a ball around in the front yard or something.

And the both of them on the same team? Forget it. It takes the dream team of Lucifer and Mammon (who aren’t just arguing with each other for once) to even come close to a challenge for them.

He also enjoys playing the occasional video game with them, though he treats it a lot like playing with Levi and just assumes he’ll never win unless he gets lucky - which does happen from time to time.

He doesn’t mind losing that much as long as he’s having fun, and if nothing else he can always win against them in an eating contest… He’s got those on lockdown. Come at’em MC, he’ll pack away an entire fridge before you’re done with your first plate. Try him.

Belphegor

So Belphie enjoys a good game or two - video-based or otherwise - it comes with the lazy-bastard territory. He may not be as skilled as Levi, but he can hold his own in some genres.

But he’s given up on beating the MC looong ago.

Do you know how much practice it would take? How many hours that he would have to use?? The hours where he could be napping instead??? Yeah, no thanks. They can continue to be the reigning Super Smash Devils champion for all he cares.

Buuuut even he has to admit, it’s pretty relaxing to watch the MC play something in the background... There’s a certain sort of satisfaction to watching someone who’s good at a game just play it straight through.

If they’re set up in Levi’s room or the Common area then Belphie may come over, set his pillow up on the floor, and watch them play. He may even throw in a comment or two like, “You missed a health pack,” or “Better save now,” but other than that he likes to just let them do their thing.

The MC has had many an all-nighter with Belphie spectating until about 4am or so. Then he’s dead to the world and they have to work out how to get his not-exactly-light demon ass onto a couch…

Or they can just leave him faceplanted and snoring on the floor. Up to them, really cause he did it to himself. 🤷‍♀️

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me requests #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons

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disenchantedif · 3 years

Note

Either 27 (fluff) or 17 (general) for Cameron? Whichever you think fits best, sorry I couldn't choose lol.

"Are you blushing?" and "Are you jealous?" for Cameron.

Early relationship and M!Cameron. Also, AU where MC's university experience doesn't immediately go to shit.

This probably got way too long so I broke it up some, read the rest under the cut.

The university cafeteria is packed as always. You're certain it looks the same as most like it around the country except this one...well, one table is full of Nephilim lounging with their wings out and another has Basilisks partaking in a venom shooting competition.

Maybe it's a bit unique.

You're sat in the back corner with your laptop propped open, a document on magical politics open on one side of the screen. Your homework for Advanced Lightning Manipulation occupies the other side, though it's more doodles than any actual work so far.

You absentmindedly begin to pick at your sandwich when-

"Hells!" You jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You twist around to see none other than Cameron with his hands up in surrender, smiling sheepishly. You also notice that all eyes are now on your previously secluded corner, and the whispers are already beginning.

They say kids are vicious, and you can attest to that better than anyone. Everybody always fails to mention that a shit ton of young adults crammed into a cafeteria can feel like facing down a pack of hyenas, though. They thrive on gossip, and what's juicier than a fling between the Chosen One and the Unchosen One?

Nothing. Nothing is the answer. Or it appears to be, at least, when every pair of eyes follow you both around every corner. You had just started to fade into obscurity, then Cameron had to come along and fuck it all up.

Again.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He says, keeping his voice down and out of range of prying ears.

"I wasn't scared." You huff, pushing your plate away.

You had already lost your appetite.

"It's no good?" His nose scrunches sympathetically as he sits beside you, "If you want, we can go grab dinner-"

"I don't have any money." You interrupt him, "Besides, it's fine. I'll take it back to my dorm."

"It probably tastes like cardboard." He jokes, but you see the way his eyes dart around, making sure no one approaches.

"Maybe, but it's food." You shrug, "I need to finish this anyway."

You nod at your assignment and his eyes light up when he recognizes it, "For Professor Karlin's class, right? I'm in another section of it, and the assignment is super easy. I can help if you want?"

You almost snap, say no and tell him to get lost. It's your gut instinct when it comes to Cameron; just get him to leave you the hell alone. Except you don't really want that anymore.

Which is the absolute weirdest feeling ever, to want Cameron Fletcher around. Theo would be laughing his ass off at you right now, and you're sure Viktor would give you his patented disappointed eyebrows.

"If you want." You say instead, still stiff but slowly relaxing as people grow bored of your apparently normal conversation.

If they wanted to see you throw a glass of Sprite in Cameron's face, they're about six months too late.

He twiddles his thumbs for a bit as you work, occasionally piping up in assistance, but his nervous energy is overwhelming.

"Is there something you're wanting to talk about?" You say, pretending to be uninterested as you read the same question five times over to look busy.

"Oh." He startles, "Um. Yes, actually."

It's silent for a moment, so you continue to prompt him, "About?"

"Um, this weekend." He glances down at his hands, "A bunch of the freshmen are going to Inferno."

You know Inferno well. Every supernatural person with even a slight social life in New York knows Inferno well. It's the only club around town that's hidden from mortal eyes; you have to be supernatural to get in...and twenty-one.

"Most of them aren't even old enough." You say, "They get fakes?"

"Yeah. Apparently, Theo knows someone." His face sours as he says his name, "That's actually what I wanted to ask you about."

"What? Inferno?" You raise an eyebrow, "I'm not going, if that's what you're wondering."

He gets what you're saying without you having to actually say it. You might enjoy parties or clubbing, getting a fake ID, living it up with friends.

You'll never know, though.

Your presence is like a sedative to any social gathering you attend. Usually, things just end up awkward and you leave early to go home and cry in the shower. At worst, someone mentions your reputation that so often proceeds you and you have to beat off a panic attack with a stick.

"I know." He says quickly, "I'm not asking you to go. I was actually going to suggest a movie night."

"Movie night?" You say, more than a little shocked, "You're that nervous about suggesting a movie night?"

"No." He twists the edge of his shirt between his hands and you almost feel sorry for the cotton, "I was going to ask if anyone else asked you to go?"

You blink at him, incredulous for a moment, "Cam, who the hell would ever ask me out?"

He frowns momentarily, "Off-topic, but you're a catch."

"I'm a walking bad luck charm." You scoff, "The question remains."

"I overheard Theo and Penelope talking in Alchemy." He explains, "Apparently they were both going to ask you to go."

His face lights up like a stoplight, the dark flush hard to spot against his tan but certainly there.

"Are you blushing?" You ask, eyes wide, "Cameron-"

"I just wanted to know if they did ask you." He frowns.

"They know we're...a thing." You say, unable to call it dating, "They knew you were listening and wanted to fuck with you."

His mouth drops open slightly before he closes it, lips pursed. He doesn't say anything for a moment, leading you to draw your own conclusions.

"Hold on, are you jealous?" You question, "Why would you be jealous?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He responds, catching you off guard, "Barely a year ago you couldn't tolerate me and everyone thought you and Theo were already dating."

"So?" You ask, "I never dated Theo. I've never wanted to date Theo. And, don't get me wrong, Penelope is gorgeous-"

"You're not helping."

"Like, drop-dead stunning-"

"Now you're just being an asshole."

"I would totally let her step on me kind of hot-"

Cameron groans and you finally take mercy on him.

"But she hasn't asked me either." You confirm, "As of now, I have movie plans with this annoying kid I used to go to school with."

He smiles hesitantly, "If they did ask you, would you rather go with one of them? I mean, I guess I'd understand."

Your brows furrow, studying the weight of the words before you respond, "If I wanted to be with someone else, I would. I want to be with you, though, so that's where I am."

He grins now, a full-on beam of sunshine glowing on his face, "I want to be with you, too."

"I hope so." You say, "I spent a lot of time convincing Viktor and Theo not to break your kneecaps. I'd hate to have that hard work go to waste."

He just sighs in response.

#disenchantedif #cameron fletcher #short story

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memxntomxri · 3 years

Text

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - bisexual!hinata shouyou x gn!reader, hinata shouyou x miya atsumu

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst, break up

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - hinata shouyou is trustworthy - with everything except for your heart

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.4k words

𝘵𝘸 - slightly descriptive nsfw?, cheating (i'm sorry to be doing my children hinata and atsumu dirty this way but this got stuck in my head 😭), major angst, break-up, no happy ending, lots and lots of crying, lots and lots of reader's internal thoughts, atsumu is an asshole

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of brainrot i had stuck in my head after reading chapter 18 of SabbyWrites' A Study in Depravity. HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS - I REPEAT, HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS. BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE ALSO NOT CHEATERS. i just couldn't resist writing this lmao

also, i'm doing my best to make this a gender-neutral reader, but it might lean more towards AFAB/non-binary readers since i'm both ashelkgjkdlkjf male-identifying readers i'm sorry

thanks @meiansmistress, lou (LouEve_094 on ao3), lena, and emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3) for betaing! your feedback helped me a lot

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - there are some descriptive scenes of smut in here 👀 shoo, shoo

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

You know this.

It's the reason you met, after all.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The summer you moved to Miyagi, following your father's dream of teaching in a little town similar to the one he lived in as a child, you were unhappy. Who could blame you, after all? You had a comfortable life back in Osaka, and unlike your father, you were a city dweller at heart. It was also the middle of your first year of high school—who wanted to transfer schools, let alone across prefectures, in the middle of a school year?

It was hot in Miyagi, and when the moving truck broke down on the side of the road, the entire family piled out and sat on the curb. Just your father (who you were still mad at), your mother, and you. That was what it had always been. Sure, you had friends, but somehow the friendships never got too deep. You were willing to bet that within a month, there would be no texts other than the occasional New Year's greeting or "happy birthday" from your so-called friends back in Osaka.

And don't even get you started on romantic relationships. It wasn't that you weren't attractive, or that you weren't easy to get along with—it was just that there was never anybody. Yes, you had liked people before, but nothing had ever come of it.

Your mother piped up, saving you from your dark thoughts about the state of your relationships with other people. "Y/n, love, can you go back down the hill again? I think we saw a konbini a bit that way, please buy some cool drinks." she says, depositing coins in your outstretched hand. Oh well, something to do, you supposed.

You strolled casually down the road, sweating buckets. When you pushed open the doors of the konbini—Sakanoshita Store, you noted, it definitely didn’t look like a konbini—opened, you basked in the cold air of the air conditioner for a bit. As you stood there, looking a bit dumb with your arms outstretched, you felt a weight barrel into you from behind.

With a bang, you fell forward, the weight landing on your back. "Ow!" you cried, rubbing your right wrist, which had unceremoniously made contact with the ground, pain shooting up the limb. You twisted around to glare at whatever had so unceremoniously bowled you over. You were met with the sight of wide, brown eyes and flushed cheeks. "Sorry!" the boy squeaked, getting off of you quickly. "So sorry!" You frowned and got up.

"Watch where you’re going, okay?" You were a few centimeters taller than him, you noted.

He started blabbering, talking about how he needed to get the first-aid kit because a "Stingyshima" had "accidentally" ran into "Bakageyama" and this "Bakageyama" now had a bleeding knee and that he was the fastest runner in their volleyball club (he was strangely emphatic about this point). By the time he was finished rambling, you were chuckling slightly. It was obvious that he hadn't meant anything by running into you, and it was actually kind of endearing how earnestly he was trying to explain himself.

You held up a hand, stopping him from continuing to ramble. "Y-you aren't mad, right?" he asked anxiously. You smiled and shook your head slightly. "It seems your team trusts you to help take care of your friend, so why don't you grab the first-aid kit and go help him?" You suggested gently.

He nodded quickly and darted behind the counter, grabbing a white box. As he jogged away, he seemed to remember something and turned around to holler at you. "My name's Hinata Shouyou! I'm a first year!" he introduced himself in a bright voice.

Just inside the konbini, a small smile slipped across your face.

Hinata Shouyou, huh. He seemed nice.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason you fell in love with him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The first day of school, you meet Hinata Shouyou again. And again. And again. He somehow seems to pop up everywhere you go—not that you're complaining, he's entertaining and nice—and soon, you think you can count yourself as his friend.

You go to his game against Aoba Johsai, then Shiratorizawa, then you're hugging him as he jumps up and down, celebrating their win. That’s the first time your heart jumps when you look at him, haloed by the lights of the gym.

Slowly, you feel yourself falling in love with him. Not just falling for him, no, because Hinata Shouyou will not let anyone do anything in halves, especially not falling in love. Shouyou, to you, (because by then you were on first-name basis) is someone you can rely on, someone that is always there, like the sun, trustworthy.

And because he is always there, it's also easy to confess to him in your second year. You know him well enough by now to know that even if he doesn't feel the same, nothing would change about your friendship except for the addition of unspoken words. And you think that he might love you back, if the lingering glances and brighter smiles are any indication.

Your guess is right, and by New Year's break, the two of you are a happy couple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you let him go, if only for a little bit.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou left for Brazil, you took a break from each other. To be honest, it was your idea.

It wasn't that you didn't think that you couldn't trust him ten thousand kilometers away—it was that you knew you would hold him back. He was going to Brazil to chase his dream, and having a tether to his hometown would only slow him down. It hurt, having to say goodbye at the airport, but somehow the two of you got through it.

You still talked—a little more than "just friends" should—but you were careful not to let him think that you were together.

Shouyou was meant for greater things, and back then, as an insecure, just-barely-adult going into medical school, you weren't sure if you fit into the picture.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you let him back in.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou returns from Brazil, the first person he visits is you. You, all the way out in Osaka, pushing yourself to your limits as you study for med school. When you open your door and see him standing there, smiling as bright as ever, you fall into his arms—both literally and metaphorically. It turns out, even two years later, you trust him to catch you.

It was all too natural for you and Shouyou to get back together, and by a stroke of luck, he joins the MSBY Black Jackals, right there in Osaka. You move in together, his slightly larger salary allowing the two of you to rent a bigger apartment.

Yes, it's hard work being in a relationship again, but you like having Shouyou to return to every night after your shift is over. You wake up early every morning to make the two of you breakfast and lunch, and Shouyou always has dinner waiting for you when you step back in the door, often also staying up so that you can talk.

You're content.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you think nothing of his closeness with his teammates.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shouyou has always been a people-magnet. Even back in high school, everyone loved him. Shouyou is bisexual. You know this. He’s always had more than enough love to give back, too, and his bisexuality had never impacted your relationship. Why should it, when you’re every bit as queer as him? Your relationship was strong, and you believed in it. That's why, at every team dinner that he takes you to, when someone else inevitably takes the seats next to him instead of you and you're relegated to a corner, you don't worry about it. Shouyou loves you, and it doesn't matter where you sit for a couple of hours.

Yes, Miya Atsumu is a bit aggressive whenever Shouyou compliments him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at you triumphantly, but you chalk it to them being good friends and Miya-san wanting to get to know you better by having a little friendly competition, and that's okay.

Yes, Shouyou starts going out with his team more and more, but they're his team. He's supposed to be close with them.

Yes, you start to feel a little neglected, but it wasn't as if you were the most attentive back when you were still struggling through med school.

And anyways, Shouyou always makes time for the two of you on Saturdays, your designated date nights. You have trust in your relationship, in its rock-tight foundation built upon years of knowing each other.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you believe his words.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

One Friday, after an especially busy shift at the hospital that got cut short for you when a coworker unexpectedly came in to fill in for you, you decide to head home early and get some rest, maybe cuddle with Shouyou while watching those romcoms you both enjoy.

You had told him that you'd be home late that night, and you hoped that you could surprise him with some dinner. So, you swung by his favorite yakitori place and ordered dinner, driving home as fast as you safely could.

As you open the door to your apartment, you hear the distinctive sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, grunts and moans, high keens. You frown. Maybe Shouyou was watching porn? He sometimes liked to get himself ready (the two of you enjoyed the occasional pegging) before you got home. You drop the food on the kitchen table and put your jacket on the hook.

"Love, I'm home!" you call out softly. No response.

Frowning deeper now, you move towards the bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you hear something that stops you cold.

"A-ah, Atsumu!" It's distinctively Shouyou's voice, and suddenly, you can't move anymore.

Shouyou, who told you you could make it through med school.

Shouyou, who made you yakisoba and miso soup whenever you were stuck studying.

Shouyou, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear every morning as the two of you made breakfast.

Shouyou, who is currently in bed with Miya fucking Atsumu.

You want to get up, you want to slam open the door, you want to demand answers, but somehow, you can't get your legs to budge from the spot in the ground they've rooted themselves to.

Then,

"Who do you love, Sho?" Atsumu growls.

Your heart skips a beat.

No.

You pray to all the gods you know that what's about to pass Shouyou's lips will miraculously stay trapped in his throat, but it seems like the gods don't feel kind today.

"Y-you, Atsumu, you!" you hear Shouyou cry.

Your heart shatters into a million little kaleidoscopic pieces. Tears start running down your face, hot, involuntary, painful, because they represent the six years of a beautiful relationship down the drain, because nothing will ever be the same, because Shouyou is cheating on you.

Finally, your legs decide to move again. It seems like someone else is controlling your body as you walk towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

Shouyou is pinned down by Miya-san on the bed, legs thrown over his shoulder, as he slams into him.

The door bangs against the wall.

Shouyou looks up, and when he sees you, his face floods with guilt.

You don't say anything. You just stand there, tears flooding down your face, betrayal evident in your expression.

"Y-y/n!" he says. "I-I- I swear, this isn't-" he begins.

You cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Shouyou." you spit.

Miya-san chuckles. "Who are we kidding, this is exactly what they think it is. What, did you think that you would be enough to satisfy Sho? You, with your infinitely busy schedule? You, who has no clue about volleyball?" he says, cutting into you.

"Atsumu, stop!" Shouyou says, frantic. He can tell that he's going to lose you, but he's not going to go down without a fight. "Babe, I love you, please-" he says, getting out of Miya-san's embrace and moving towards you. You sidestep him, holding a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

You stand there, looking at the scene, chuckling darkly inside your head. Just a scorned lover, a man, and his side-piece. You take a deep breath.

"You know, Shouyou, if you fell in love with someone else, you should've just told me. I trust you to be honest. I'm leaving—because even though you might love me, you're in love with Miya-san." you said.

Shouyou looks stricken with guilt, but you know it's from lying, not because he loves you anymore. Your laugh is broken and rough on the ears. "You think I didn't hear you? Oh, Shouyou, I heard more than enough. Have a nice life, and I hope that you remember how you broke me. I hope it fucking haunts you to the day of your death," you hurl at him.

Because even though at that moment you're screaming at him, you know that you still love him, that you’ll always will love him, and that you will carry this scar for the rest of your life. And even though you love him enough to leave now, to let him be with the person he loves—you still have enough love for yourself to hope that he bears some of the weight of this horrible, messy end too.

And with that, you walk out the door.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

But you're wrong.

Hinata Shouyou might love Miya Atsumu, but he still loves you more.

Years later, looking back, he comprehends that he didn't just break you. As he stares at his empty apartment, devoid of a lover—because what you said was true, he still carries the guilt, the memory of your tear-stained face, the recollections of your golden time together that ruined any relationship he might have had before it started, the echo of your absolute trust in him,

—Hinata Shouyou realizes he ruined himself too.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hinata x reader #hinata shouyou x reader #atsuhina #canon universe #angst #haikyu angst #cheating #no happy ending

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anon-e-miss · 3 years

Note

AU where Jazz runs a TON of charge. It takes ten spike overloads to satisfy him, and he doesn’t have a refractory period. After ten overloads in a row, he tends to go utterly feral—as if he’s in rut. Just mounting and clawing and biting and rutting away until he finally knots his partner and blacks out. This is only occasionally a problem, because basically no one can handle getting him off ten times in a row anyway.

Prowl, SiC, sees how this endless charge is impacting Jazz’s work (and quality of life). He has a crush, but he tells himself that’s not his motivating factor. Jazz needs someone he can trust to see him to blackout. Someone who won’t tap out three overloads in. Someone who won’t judge him for getting increasingly desperate and feral and possessive as he frags them.

Jazz maybe thinks no one could tolerate that kind of behavior. He might feel ashamed of the fantasy he has of ruthlessly fucking someone completely helpless. Someone who trusts him. (Possibly someone who would trust him enough to knowingly drink drugged energon hand fed to them)

Fortunately for him, Prowl thinks that fantasy is HOT AS A SMELTER.

Time for Jazz to finally get some satisfaction.

Despite the war ravaging the planet, Cybertron was seeing a mixing of frametypes like never before. It was by in large a positive as cultures that once stood well apart rubbed one side by side. It was not entirely positive. The differing needs if frame types could class, as Praxian Prowl had experienced this firsthand but at the moment he was not worried about himself or his framekin. He was worried about Jazz.

As Praxus had segregated itself from its neighbours with the great dome, Polihex had itself been segregated, the nomadic and semi nomadic groups had roamed the Wastes and the Rust Sea without fear of heat or storms where no other frametype had. Their frames had developed their own quirks and one of Jazz’s was coming into play.

He needed to frag. But Jazz did not trust so much and so easily as mechanisms thought. Why anyone believed a spy would be trusting, Prowl could not begin to understand. There were Bots Jazz trusted, his team, of course but his team did not comprise mecha capable of taking what Jazz had to give them. He was starting go get snappy, standoffish. It was effecting moral, that seemed like a good excuse.

"You need to frag," Prowl declared as Jazz smacked the datapad he was fiddling with. The Polihexian's visor flashed white.

"Not really yer business, Prowl," he replied. Prowl flicked a single doorwing.

"It is affecting your productivity," Prowl said. "There is no way in Pit I will authorize your deployment when you are in such a state."

"Ya can't order me to frag," Jazz said. "OP would have yer helm."

"Why would I order you?" Prowl asked. "We both know how well you listen to my orders. I am offering my assistance."

"I would ruin ya in two overloads," Jazz said. "Not worth the effort."

"You will find I was forged for endurance," Prowl replied. "I could take anything you give and more."

Jazz stared at him and cocked his helm as he looked Prowl up and down. Prowl did not flinch from the hungry in the mech's expression. He had won, and he knew it. At the best of times Jazz was hard pressed to resist a challenge. This was far from the best of times.

"We'll see."

There was something to be said for Jazz’s self-restraint, he had more of it than anyone, including Prowl would have guessed. He did not push Prowl down on his desk and frag him, but made an honest to Primus appointment for the coming dark-cycle and suggested Prowl take them both off the schedule for the next mega-cycle. Prowl had never gotten so thoroughly fragged that he could not work the next mega-cycle but he acquiesced. It was not as if he could not put himself back on duty as it suited him.

They met in Jazz’s quarters rather than Prowl’s, though Prowl’s rank afforded him best quarters; he had never changed from the original suite he had been afforded as a tactical officer. All he used his quarters for was recharge and the narrow berth was adequate for that. That berth would not serve a marathon interface. Jazz’s would serve that purpose far better. Prowl was not clear of what expectations he had possessed prior to his arrival but every preconception fled as soon as he stepped through the door. That unexpected self-restraint he had observed in Jazz in the light-cycle was gone and as soon as Prowl entered, Jazz was there. Prowl gasped with start as Jazz effortlessly disrobed him.

“Nice tits.”

Servos cupping Prowl’s wells, Jazz pushed Prowl up against the wall and covered his mouth in a crushing grip. He hiked up Prowl’s leg, hooked it over his hip and shoved Prowl’s modesty panel aside as it was still retracting. Prowl moaned into the brutal kiss as Jazz’s ground his palm into his node as his digits spread his folds. The preparations were quick, rough and Prowl was at a loss to do anything but cling to Jazz’s shoulders. He was embarrassingly wet, just dripping with slick before Jazz’s digits ever entered him. His valve made an obscene squelch as Jazz digit-fragged him, spreading his too long empty lining. Apart from the squelch all sounds of Prowl’s overload were muted, swallowed by Jazz’s hungry mouth.

With the nip of his swollen lower lipplate, Jazz broke the kiss and stared into his glassy optics. Prowl dug his digits into Jazz’s shoulders as the other mech suddenly pulled his leg over his shoulder and drove his spike deep into Prowl’s frame. The speed and the force knocked the intakes from Prowl and the sudden stretch burned but along with the burn was a sudden scalding pleasure as his internal sensors and nodes were quickly triggered. It was embarrassing how quickly he overloaded, screaming Jazz’s designation, before Jazz had even sheathed himself in his quickly spasming valve. His leg, the one still on the floor felt like gel and he trembled. Before he could fall, before he could even secure his grip on Jazz’s shoulders, Jazz yanked that leg out from under him and held him up as he thrust up into Prowl’s valve, carving through his internal seal, carving him open. Prowl’s mouth fell open in a shocked O. His doorwings smacked back against the wall. Jazz groaned, denta clenched as he took his pleasure. Blistering hot transfluids flooded Prowl’s tank. He panted. That was one for Jazz. How many did a Polihexian usually have in a session? Oh yes, ten or twelve.

Jazz’s spike was already pressurized again before he pulled out of Prowl. He tossed the Praxian over his shoulder and carried he over to his berthroom. Prowl squeaked when he was tossed onto the berth. Flushing madly, he shuffled back so his helm rested on Jazz’s pillow, then through his legs open and canted his hips as he reached between his thighs and he moaned as he held the rim of his oozing valve open. When Jazz fell over him, Prowl cried out with ecstasy. Jazz held Prowl’s legs up and open as he filled him in one great plunge. He caught Prowl’s nozzle between his denta and nipped and sucked.

With his helm pulled back by the firm grip Jazz had on his chevron, Prowl grunted and panted as Jazz reamed out his aft pipe. He had always enjoyed aftplay and nothing at all had changed here. Prowl dug his digits into the blankets below him and he pushed back into Jazz’s churning thrusts. His wells, too large for his frame, swayed under him. Jazz covered Prowl’s long neck with denting bites. When Jazz pulled out, transfluids drooled Prowl’s slack rim. That was three.

“New ya’d have a tight aft,” Jazz groaned as he watched his spend leak out of Prowl’s afthole.

A mech possessed, Jazz gave Prowl quarter, there was no respite. Prowl braced himself on Jazz’s taunt belly as he rode the Polihexian’s spike. Jazz tugged and pinched Prowl’s nozzles. He was rough as he played with Prowl’s heavy wells and fragged up into Prowl’s well fragged core. As his node ground into Jazz’s array, Prowl round Jazz harder, faster. His glossa lulled from his mouth as he moaned deliriously. Jazz reared up, taking Prowl’s nozzle into his mouth again as his digits drove into his drooling afthole.Prowl’s optics crossed and he overloaded with a wail as Jazz’s splattered his gestation tank with more transfluids. That was... four? Five? Prowl had lost track already.

He was not sure if he was overloading anymore, or if he just never stopped. Prowl panted as he twisted the pillow under his helm in his servos. Another pillow was beneath his hips as Jazz pinned him down, servos folded over his shoulders and drilled him deep. Prowl moaned softly as Jazz ran his servos over his back and doorwings and squeezed his round aft segments. He sucked a denta into the edge of Prowl’s doorwings. Somehow, Prowl found the energy to wail as he overloaded. His protoform rounded slightly as Jazz released into his tank again. Prowl panted. He spent. Jazz rolled him and pushed his legs open. Jazz was not.

Jazz stood up on his knees and rutted into Prowl’s sloppy valve.The angle he was using dragged Jazz’s spike against Prowl’s gamma cluster and his internals clenched as sparks flew across his vision. HIs peds curled, Prowl reached between his own legs to furiously, rub his anterior node. With a shrilled shriek, Prowl overloaded but Jazz never stopped stimulating Prowl’s gamma cluster and soon Prowl was overloading again, his valve sprayed lubricants out around Jazz’s spike.

Prowl drooled against the pillow as Jazz crouched over his upturned aft and growled as he plunged his spike into Prowl’s quivering channel. His protoform was bloated, inflated with Jazz’s transfluids. It was going to take orns for the swelling to go down, Everyone was going to think he was carrying. Something heavy and solid ground against Prowl’s slack folds. The knot. He still needed to take Jazz’s knot. Prowl sobbed as the thick swelling at the base of Jazz’s spike butted against his rim. As it was, he was already so full. Overwhelmed, Prowl tried to wriggle away but Jazz bit his doorwing and hiked his hips up, and forced the knot passed the last of his internals’ resistance.

Jazz’s overloaded with a grunt, the force of his spill so much strong and the amount so much greater. Prowl dragged his servo under him and felt his swollen belly where he was inflated with Jazz’s spend. Groaning softly, Jazz collapsed against his back and his spike twitch with another spurt of transfluids as he fell into stasis lock. Prowl tried to push himself up, to get himself out from under Jazz but he was too tired to dislodge the mech. His optics grew dim and he resigned himself to recharging with Jazz pinning him to his filthy berth and his spike knot deep in his tank.

#valveplug #maccadams #ruination #tf prowl #tf jazz #come inflation #rut #challenge acceped #anon fic ask #anon asks ficlet #tasty tuesday

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hockeyboysimagines · 3 years

Note

Can you do fuck up the friendship with Tyler Seguin ? ♡

This was so fun! I’m so glad someone requested this song for him because he’s exactly who I wanted to write it for. Thanks so much and enjoy!-💕

Warnings: sex and implied sex.

Are you gonna kiss me?/‘Cause you're taking me homeIt's four in the morning/Are we doing this wrong?/This weekend I saw you/Through eyes that are new/You got me falling for you/And I kinda want to (want to)

Tell me what you mean/Is it all me? (Ah ah ah ah ah ah)/Start to overthink everything (Ah ah ah ah ah ah)/When you're close to me, I can't breathe (Ah ah ah ah ah ah)/We're already six-feet deep/Let's fuck up the friendship/Come get in my head/Baby, cut the tension/I'm hung by a thread

Maybe it's something/But let's not pretend/Or maybe it's nothing/And this is the end

“All I’m saying is you guys look good together.” Jamie said giving Tyler a mischievous smile. Tyler rolled his eyes and waved him off.

“Come on Dude. You mean to tell me you don’t think she’s hot?”

“Of course I do. She’s fucking gorgeous, but she’s my friend.”

“You guys flirt all the time.”

“I flirt with you all the time too Big Rig, maybe I should ask you on a date. ”

“I mean if you insist-“

“Enough you two Jesus!” Roope said shushing them both and shaking his head “If he doesn’t wanna ask her out then leave him alone.” Jamie wasn’t wrong. He did want to take her out but he wasn’t so sure she felt the same about him. Being flirty people it was hard sometimes to tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t, so he pushed it out of his mind and admired her from a friend standpoint.

“Thank you.” Tyler said taking a drag from his beer bottle. She was standing about ten feet away absorbed in an intense game of beer pong that had been going for a while. She and Esa were partners and had been the reigning champs for over two hours. As if she felt him looking at her she turned to smile at him, and without looking tossed the ball and sank it into the final cup, winning the game. With a screech Esa came flying around the table lifting her up over his shoulder and took a victory lap around the living room. When he finally set her down, she came over and accepted a high five from Jamie.

“Nice game.” Tyler said holding up a beer. She had on this tight little white tank top and these dark jeans and he wanted nothing more than to rub the beer bottle all over her exposed skin.

Wait what? He shook his head, and felt heat creep up his neck.

“Nah. I actually have to get going it’s almost 4 in the morning.”

“I’ll take you.” He piped up before anyone else could offer. She smiled and went to say goodbye to her friends as Tyler trailed behind her. He tried really hard not to stare at her ass, but he couldn’t help himself. He had always looked at her different but the guys on his team had been pushing the idea extra hard lately. He was mostly silent as he drove her home, and as they walked to her front door. The streets were dead, as they should be at 3:50 in the morning, the only sounds coming from the highway and the occasional car that rolled down the street.

“Are you okay?” She asked when they reached the door. She leaned against it, keys hanging loosely in her hand.

“Fine why?” She shrugged “Your unusually quiet.”

He bit his lip. It was now or never “The guys are just kind of riding me that’s all.”

“About me?” Tyler froze, eyes moving slowly over to hers. How could she know? Fucking big mouth Jamie no doubt had said something to her. She started laughing.

“You guys are all extremely loud.” Tyler laughed nervously and looked at his feet “Yeah they just like to tease me is all. Sorry about them. We’re friends right? I don’t wanna mess that up.”

She shrugged and cocked her head to the side “I kinda do.”

She had this look, a look he had never seen before. Tension hung thick and heavy in the air. It sent a chill down his spine and into his other extremities and before he knew it he had crossed the porch, and pulled her into a heated kiss. It never occurred to him that this would completely fuck their friendship up, and if it hadn’t he wouldn’t have cared.

She was tugging at the button on his jeans when he reached around her to unlock the door and they disappeared inside, not even able to make it to her bedroom.

We could never be (oh, no)/We could never be friends/We could never be (oh, no)/We could never be friends

It got kind of scary/My bones always knew/Oh, I didn't mean to/Are you feeling this, too?/Tell me what you mean/Is it all me? (Ah ah ah ah ah ah)/Start to overthink everything (Ah ah ah ah ah ah)

When you're close to me, I can't breathe (Ah ah ah ah ah ah)/We're already six-feet deep

Let's fuck up the friendship/Come get in my head/Baby, cut the tension/I'm hung by a thread/Maybe it's something/But let's not pretend/Or maybe it's nothing/And this is the end

We could never be (oh, no)/We could never be friends/We could never be (oh, no)/We could never be friends

She was thoroughly over sexed and exhausted by the time Tyler made his way from her house the next morning but she felt good. The flirtatious behavior had always been there but it had finally come to a head. She would be lying if she had said she hadn’t enjoyed what had happened but now that she came down from her high she had realized that maybe that was all it was. Tyler was in her head now.

Was she just a hookup? Surely he cared about her more than that. Did she want to be more than that? She rubbed her forehead and sighed, feeling the effects of beer pong, and sex start to catch up with her. Flyers cologne still hung in the air, and she sighed. It was both enthralling and intoxicating to be in the presence of Tyler Seguin. He funny and good looking, and the charm was always laid on thick for just about anyone. But she didn’t miss the way he seemed to bend over backwards for her in particular. She had always assumed it was because she was a conquest he wouldn’t ever achieve, and here she was completely ruined by him for any other guy going forward.

She felt her phone buzz and pulled it up to see a text.

I really enjoyed last night….but what does this mean for us?

She drummed her fingers on the nightstand and typed out a reply.

Let’s find out later tonight.

From that point on a beautiful and complicated situation was born. While they loved to be around eachother, they kept things under wraps. But the days turned into nights filled with sex, quick meetups after practice and a lot of secrecy.

Now that they were having actual sex, the tension and the flirting was worse than ever. Roope raised his eyebrows at them as the flirty banter between them turned sexual one night, and shook his head.

“Jesus.” He mumbled elbowing Esa who was pretending not to listen “Get a room.” She smiled and leaned in to whisper,

“Maybe we should.” She disappeared through the crowd leaving Tyler to face his friends.

“Are you guys fucking?” Jamie asked squinting at him.

“What? No.” Tyler said. Someone called his name and he was thankful to be pulled from the conversation before he had to lie to them. He was even more anxious to leave this party to Y/N could call his name later that night.

On the edge of my seat/I'll wait for the outcome/If we ever have one (if we ever have one)/Let me take the lead/You follow me closely/But come on and show me (come on and show me)

Let's fuck up the friendship/Come get in my head/Baby, cut the tension/I'm hung by a thread/Maybe it's something/But let's not pretend/Or maybe it's nothing/And this is the end (woo)

We could never be (oh, no)/We could never be friends/We could never be (oh, no)/We could never be friends (friends)

Tyler felt himself falling hard and fast, something he swore he would never do. Things had changed from the night of the first hookup. The relationship between them began to feel more like dating than friends with benefits. Tyler wasn’t sure how to approach the subject and ask her how she felt, but it had to be said.

“Do you wanna go out on a date?” He blurted out one day, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth.

“What?”

“I said do you want to go out on a date?”

“A date? Like a couple? Tyler I thought this was like a friend-“

“We’ve never been just friends and you know it.” He looked so good, long tattooed arms braced behind him, T-shirt right across his chest. Her feelings for him had gone beyond sex, and way beyond friendship.

“Come on.” He said good naturedly, giving her a smile “Lemme take you out.”

She bit her lip and nodded “Okay Tyler Seguin. Take me on a date. Maybe we’ll never have to be friends again.”

“We could never be friends.”

#tyler seguin #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey blurbs #hockeyblr #hockey tumblr #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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theladyismyshepard · 3 years

Note

37 kill for Daniela the red head, She kills one of the servents because of jealousy but the maiden is into it?? Maybe kinda nsfw

Sorry for the wait, my friend

I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me (NSFW)

TW: Violence

The sun was beating down on your back as you tended to the garden that you grew in the back courtyard. You had appealed to the Dimitrescus the benefits of planting your own vegetables and fruits and possibly the occasional pretty flower here or there. The Lady seemed uninterested in the thought altogether, making it clear that her mind was reserved for more stimulating subjects. Bela seemed halfhearted with her thoughtfulness, quickly zoning out. Cassandra had rolled her eyes and walked away after the word “garden”. Daniela was smiling though, her eyes glittery before she nodded along almost vehemently.

“I agree,” she said unabashed, ignoring her mother’s arched brow and Bela’s scoff. “Think of the ingredients we could grow ourselves instead of sending for delivery every other week.”

“Daniela, dear,” started Alcina, sighing almost exasperatedly, “Do you plan on going out and tending to this “garden”, hmm?”

You wanted to interject, it was the perfect moment to take responsibility for the care of the garden, and possibly even the grounds just to improve your worth around the castle. Yet, it required a lack in manners to interrupt a Lady when she’s speaking, and Alcina had a severe standard when it came to manners. And so you were forced to go with the smart move and bite your tongue as Daniela’s face dropped. That didn’t stop you from attempting to gain eye contact to give her a beseeching look.

“I’m sure we can find someone.” insisted Daniela, her eyes cutting to you before snapping back to her mother. “Someone very dependable,”

“I can do it,” you piped up, taking the opportunity, eyes dropping to the floor once Alcina’s gaze fell onto you.

“The question is will you,” drawled Alcina, eyes narrow as they looked you up and down. “As in, will I allow a human thing as yourself to control anything that is mine?”

You would have fell to your knees beneath the weight of the Lady’s attention had it not been for a certain redhead to stepped closer to you. You wanted to grab her hand, pull her close, wrap yourself around her for comfort, but you don’t. You never act on it, and she never dragged you to her bedroom cackling and giggling wildly as she did with other maids when she needed to get off. Though you were also the only one who didn’t emerge scarred and torn up.

“Of course, my Lady,” you conceded, bowing your head to show a sign of submission.

“Mother,” said Bela quietly, calmly interjecting, and waited until Alcina turned to address her. “I also think that a garden would be beneficial.”

Daniela had clapped happily when she realized her sister was aiding her in swaying their mother. Your eyes couldn’t settle between the three of the Dimitrescus. Alcina cocked her head to the side, adopting a fake look of thoughtfulness to cover how unimpressed she was.

“Oh, you do, darling?”

“Yes,” pressed Bela before her mother could continue on. “Imagine the access to ingredients for remedies to give the livestock. We could even grow foreign plants required for different potions!”

Fuck the fruits and vegetables, I guess.

And that was how the Lady was worn down and forced to give into her daughters desires. The garden didn’t necessarily consist of the produces that you originally planned for, but it got you out of the castle for extended points of time, and you weren’t complaining one bit. Castle Dimitrescu was a rather large estate, so there was plenty of room for the several varieties of roots, plants, and flowers that the Dimitrescus requested you take care of.

The heat of the sun had you pulling at the hem of your shirt to bring it up and wipe the sweat from your brow. The warm breeze hit you squarely on your exposed midsection, and you felt the dripping sweat drying grossly against your flesh. It felt as though eyes were upon you and when you let go of your shirt, ready to turn to check the windows of the castle, a person standing next to you nearly had you jumping out of your skin.

“Oh!” gasped the woman — a maid, “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured, breathless and attempting to return your heart rate back to normal. “What’re you doing out here?”

Being outside was a luxury that none of the other maids could afford, so you were confused as to how this maid, Elle, had managed to avoid the lingering eyes that were everywhere. Her eyes averted as a slight blush came to her cheeks, and that’s when you saw the glass of water in her hand and your brain put two and two together. Oh.

“It’s hot today,” said Elle nonchalantly, even shrugging. “I figured you might need this.”

“Thank you,” you replied earnestly, grabbing the glass and taking greedy sips before you handed it back. “I appreciate it.”

“Well, I can’t have you fainting and bringing attention to yourself, now can I?” joked Elle, smiling bashfully.

You could’ve sworn that eyes were upon you, and you even went as far as to turn and check the windows, and while you thought you saw one of the curtains shifting, it also could’ve been a trick on your eyes. You furrowed your brow but turned back to Elle, who was looking at you expectantly, and for what, you weren’t sure. You smiled warmly.

“Thank you again, Elle, but I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have.” You warned, making a face to emphasize, and she nodded in disappointment but reached forward to squeeze your hand.

“Stay safe,” she said, the maids’ usual words of departure.

“Stay safe,”

Eyes were watching you, but you couldn’t see from where, and that was the most dangerous predator: the one who hides before striking, and there was one predator who always had her watchful eye on you. Daniela. You gulped at the thought of Daniela catching another maid outside just to talk to you... no one, not even you were allowed to bend any of the rules, not even once... not when you were so easily replaced. Hopefully if you just went back to attending to the garden (rather stiffly), you could pretend that nothing would be amiss when you went back inside.

***

There was tension hanging in the air, thick enough to choke, and it had your spine as straight as a rod as you trudged through the pristine castle with your overall dirtiness, your shoes abandoned at the door. It was oddly quiet, and when the maids spotted you, they turned away quick, eyes wide with fright. Every step you took towards any of them, the maids took about six or seven steps away from you. Castle Dimitrescu might’ve been weird, but that was a new one...

You gave up on making conversation and instead wandered off to find a clean uniform to change out of the more comfortable wear you wore to tend to the ingredients. There was the nagging feeling that something was off in the air... Where were the Lady’s daughters? Their signature cackles failed to echo off the walls, and it left an uneasy silence in its wake. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t running into Elle either as you wandered deeper into the castle and found the maids’ quarters.

You quickly changed and made yourself presentable for your next task, and then you were again walking through the silent halls as you made your way to the kitchen. There was no real warmth to the kitchen, not when the stove had gone untouched for as long as you had been there. It wasn’t your place to question things around there, but you couldn’t help but to ask questions when you stepped inside and there was a silver platter with the cover still hiding what was underneath. What had you puzzled was the note that simply read your name propped right up against the cover.

You craned your neck when you felt eyes upon you yet again, but nobody was there... you knew better though and that’s what had needles prickling your skin and a cold sweat to break out. All that was missing was the giggling, but this really seemed like one of Daniela’s games she enjoyed playing. You turned back to the platter, and reached for the handle of the lid. After a shaky moment of building yourself up, you ripped the cover off like a bandaid, and froze, arm still raised.

Placed neatly upon the silver platter was Elle’s severed head. Her eyes were closed, and for that, you were grateful... you were too ashamed to look her in the eye seeing as this was all your fault. As your breathing hollowed out, that was when you finally heard a deep chuckle, one that had you going rigid... this wasn’t the Daniela that you had gotten used to, but it was one you were aware she could possess. Was she directing it towards you? You dropped the lid with a clatter.

“I didn’t like her very much.” said Daniela simply, and you gulped. “She liked you too much.”

You couldn’t miss the edge in her voice on the word. You finally blinked (your eyes suddenly burned) and looked away from the platter to connect eyes with the redhead. She wasn’t smiling and that was never a good sign. You forced a smile, one that you were scared was too obviously false.

“I didn’t like her either.” You choked out, fully turning your body away.

“You didn’t?” asked Daniela, her voice suddenly small and seeking reassurance, and you were struggling to keep up with her complete 180.

“Daniela...” You couldn’t say what you really wanted to... She was just bringing me water! “Why does it really matter to you so much?”

“Because you are mine!” She snapped, and you frowned.

“Doesn’t every maid here belong to you?” You countered, though you had to admit, you have more leeway than others did.

“They belong to the family, but you, you are mine, darling.” purred Daniela, stalking forward very slowly until she was before you. “No one else can even look at you the way I do.”

“But the other maids that you’ve...” You cringed, unwilling to finish, but Daniela picked up on what you were trying to say.

“I feed from them and that is all... Getting them a little scared makes the blood just a bit sweeter.” chuckled Daniela, and you frowned yet again.

“I thought you-”

“Slept with them?” Daniela drawled, now it was her turn to frown at you. “As tempting as it was, I think there’s one delicacy that I’m saving my pallet for.”

Her eyes roamed over your body with no holds barred, and you weren’t sure how you felt about the shiver that tingled down your spine. The fact that there was a severed head behind you was kinda throwing you for a loop. Daniela had her index finger and her middle finger tiptoeing up your arm until she was gingerly holding the side of your neck with obvious care. You gazed into her eyes and you were thoroughly entranced by the red headed beauty that would kill for you.

“Do you love me?” You whispered, almost afraid that what you were asking was a stupid question. Daniela’s face softened.

“I absolutely adore you, my love,” cooed Daniela, pulling you into a searing kiss that had your heart stuttering in your chest, and when the need for air had you pulling back, she already had her eyes open and watching you. “No one can take you away from me.”

Any sane person would hear the threat for what it really was, but there was nothing sane about the feelings she evoked from you just by being near you, even with Elle’s head served up right beside you. There was something about her possessiveness that could make you either feel very secured, or somewhat aroused, and you could hardly think of anything else but the fingers scratching at the hair at the base of your neck.

“I doubt anyone would be capable of taking me away from you.” You mused, and it was true. Bless the soul who tried to free you from the clutches of Daniela.

“Hm,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as her eyes cut over every inch of your face. “Perhaps I should leave my mark for all to see?”

What surprised you the most was it seemed as though she was genuinely asking you. Her hand was still scratching the back of your neck, and her free hand reached up to rub soothing circles along your jugular with the pad of her thumb. Daniela’s compulsive attitude can lead her to doing whatever the hell she wanted without fear, but here she was, asking for your permission to drink from you. This redhead never failed to be full of surprises, and you found that you kinda liked that Daniela was so crazy for you.

“I belong to you,” You said quietly, unwilling to break the atmosphere that was enveloping the two of you, and you knew you said the right thing when her eyes shone with nothing but adoration and if you looked closer, love.

Daniela continued to cup the back of your neck with one hand, and used the other to hold you carefully by your shoulder, and she gently guided you to expose your throat just a bit more before she slowly bit into your throat. You gasped at the initial sting of your flesh giving way beneath the power of her teeth, but you allowed her to continue what she needed to do and permitted the subtle pull at your bloodstream. You felt the vibration of her own moan against your skin and it had you lightheaded.

“Daniela,” you groaned, feeling her teeth still inside of your skin with every syllable, and it also felt good when the hand on your shoulder rubbed down your arm and up your back.

“Does that feel good, darling?” pressed Daniela, unlatching just long enough to pull back and bat her eyelashes at you. “Do you love this as much as I do?”

Her tongue flattened against your bite mark, cleaning you of any trickling blood before she moved to the opposite side. She placed an open mouthed kiss there before she latched on once more, prompting your whole body to flinch within her grasp, but trust Daniela to hold on tight. It felt as though there would be a couple bruises by the time the next morning rolled around, but something told you that was a good thing to have within Castle Dimitrescu. It was like your own charm to ward off the evil that could lurk around the many hidden corridors.

You felt her pushing you back up against the table, and your foot brushed against the lid, causing it to scratch against the floor with an unflattering sound. The small of your back connected with the table, leaving you no more room to go backwards. Your hands flew to the edge as you used the table as support as Daniela basically leaned her full weight into you as she fed and marked you.

Your eyes flew open when she abruptly pulled away, her chin smeared with your blood and her eyes crazed with desire, but also soft with emotion and it was directed right at you. She never broke eye contact as she slowly dropped to her knees before you, and your breathing became irregular as she reached forward to push the end of your uniform up higher and higher until you had to shiver at how exposed you felt.

“Do you love me?” asked Daniela suddenly, bringing your wandering mind to a complete halt, and you looked down into her wide, almost innocent eyes as she stared earnestly up at you. “I never heard you say it to me.”

“I love you more than life itself,” You responded and you were surprised at just how honest it felt... You could die tomorrow and you’d have felt content enough to just allow it.

Daniela’s megawatt grin was so wide that you knew there was no way of it coming off anytime soon, not with the pure happiness radiating from it, and certainly not with the way it reached itself to her eyes. She giggled madly and soon it was the only indication of her because she disappeared beneath the skirt of your uniform and you jumped at the warm tongue that was persistent in searching your body. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the table tightened and you lost yourself to the wetness of Daniela’s tongue on you, and you found that it was true...

No one could ever steal you away from the perfection that was Daniela. Not when she was the only one that could turn you on with a familiar severed head just inches away..

#bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

So Cold

(NOT A PR0MPT)

******

“The world is ending. You realize that, right?”

Villain’s brow twitched before his eyes became squinted in a cool, calculated gaze. He realized, Hero knew, he just didn’t care.

“You’ve already won.” The statement- that admittance- it hurt. Hurt in a way Hero couldn’t have even begun to describe herself. It was emptiness and it was starvation, but it was necessary if Hero wanted any chance at receiving a semi-proper death. “I’ll die regardless of where. Let me go,” she said- rather begged.

Hero glanced down as Villain leant forward, newspaper in hand. She’d seen this paper before- seen it more times than she cared to count. It was part of Villain’s breaking in process. “The streets are empty,” Villain told her. She nodded.

“I know.” Her voice was quiet, hardly existent.

“You would rather die alone than in my company.”

Her chin lifted in an instant, and she couldn’t tell whether it was her own response, or if Villain had made her do it. Either was likely. Both was likely. “That isn’t what I said.” Her voice was already much more solid, albeit panicked. “I just…”

“Yes?”

“I want to see light again. Real light.”

Villain hummed, his eyes becoming hooded again as he brought the paper back to himself, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs. “There is none.”

“There has to be. It’s warm in here; that means the sun is out.”

“It’s warm in here because the sun is too hot, too close for the air conditioning to stop us from cooking.”

It was this sentence that Hero had a revelation. He’s scared to die. Not only this, but he was scared to die alone. It was why he chose to keep Hero instead of letting her go. It didn’t matter to him whether Hero had her final moments with someone else, just as long as they weren’t without him.

“You would rather die in my company,” Hero whispered. “You don’t want to be alone when the world ends.”

There was something- something hidden- in Villains posture. He was grouchy all the time, but his posture was straight, confident, and otherwise concealed. He used his stances as a veil- a mask.

“You’re scared.”

“You are becoming cocky, Hero.” It was a warning, a threat of sorts, though there was nothing for him to do to Hero anymore. She might as well have been a pet parrot, a useless thing that spoke and mocked on occasion.

“I’m curious,” she piped. Any amount of fear or caution was slipping away, crawling down off her body like a thick and slow oil. “You won, finally. You could have- should have killed me, and I’ve wondered all this time why you haven’t.” She paused, and there was a heavy silence draped between the two of them. “It’s because you knew the world was ending…wasn’t it? Because you knew and you knew there was no one else to take advantage of which would give you so much satisfaction.”

Hero didn’t say it in hopes of besting him; she knew that was impossible at this point. Impossible when she hadn’t trained in a year. It took one capture, one method of restricting her. Of course, Villain had failed at first, keeping her from escaping whatever bonds he had her in. She would twist and turn, burn her wrists to get out- could never figure out the alarm system though. Regardless, Villain finally found a way that Hero couldn’t escape, and that was all it took.

“Are you the reason we’re going to die?”

Villain cleared his throat, and Hero knew she would need to sit down if she were standing. “Not exactly,” he admitted. The constant authoritative tone in his voice dropped, the sound of his voice becoming lighter itself. “What am I, Hero?”

“An oracle.”

He nodded.

“So, you did know the world would end,” Hero snapped. “If you are so scared to die,” she began to ask, “why not stop this? You must know the way.”

He nodded once again. “I do.” Villain rolled his neck, letting it crack one way, then the other. He was stalling, but there was only so much he could do before he had to fess up. “But I’ve never killed anyone before- only hunted them down and gave them to someone else. That someone else died before I could give them the person the world needed to die.”

An anchor dropped in Hero’s stomach. It didn’t occur to her yet that she was the one meant to die. “You’ve taken others?”

“Didn’t think you were the only one worth hunting, did you?” Villain scoffed, lightly. “Prophets are cursed, Hero. Plagued with every way the world could fall into catastrophe. It isn’t fixed in killing one person; someone else just takes their place. It’s like Earth wants to die, alright?” His fists were clenched, fingernails undoubtedly digging into his palms, likely almost enough to draw blood. “You’re the first one who can’t be killed.”

To both of their surprises, Hero said, quite simply, “I can be killed.” She wouldn’t meet Villain’s eyes as she continued by saying, “If it’d save everyone, even temporarily, I could be killed.” The idea had finally struck her- that she needed to die- but she couldn’t respond as fearfully as she typically would have.

The newspaper slid across the floor in an angry sweep. “You weren’t listening.” Villain stood, paced. “I can’t kill you, Hero. I don’t have it in me to.”

A silence laid still in the room. Neither’s breath could be heard, nor the scribbles within their mind. They sat, Villain, comfortably in a chair, and Hero, uncomfortably on the floor.

“If you couldn’t kill me, why be cruel to me? Why not just let me go?”

Hadn’t she already said it herself? Villain didn’t want to die alone.

“I thought if I could convince myself you were an untamed animal, then I could just put you down. Shoot you, or poison you, or shove an empty syringe between your toes, but…dying is worth it to not have to kill you.”

“I’ll die anyways.”

“We all will.”

“You can stop it!” Hero protested. “I can stop it! Stop everyone from dying. Why would you let the world end when you know how to prevent it?” Hero didn’t understand. If killing her would save everyone, even if temporarily, why not jump on the opportunity? Villain had been doing it all along, according to him. Maybe not the killing part, but generally. “I’m going to stop it,” Hero declared.

“You are? How do you plan on executing that plan?”

“I’ll hold my breath.” And she did, but not before sucking a breath in to hold.

Villain chuckled, “If your plan is to kill yourself, taking that big breath you did was pointless. The point is to not have air.”

Hero let the breath out. “So, you won’t kill me yourself to save the world, but you’ll instruct me on how to do it myself?”

“I’m doing neither. You’ll die with the rest of the world.”

Another stretch of pause. Hero spoke up, “And if the end of the world is more painful than anything you could ever do to me?”

This was an outcome Villain hadn’t thought of; Hero could tell. His posture slackened, shoulders dropping like weights had been placed on them.

“Would you kill me then? If you knew the alternative was worse?”

“I would,” Villain admitted, “but you don’t know what the end will look like.”

“Shouldn’t you, prophet?”

“I said if it were worse then I would kill you.”

The two never bickered like this. They only ever stared at one another, while Villain might have occasionally sent a soft insult at Hero, calling her a rat, or a pesky mouse. She would do nothing because there was nothing to do.

Now, though? Now, it was a matter of the universe, and Hero had every intention of saving it. Intentions meant nothing, unfortunately. “Why can’t you kill me yourself? Beyond the end of the world doing it more gently.” She stated this last part firmly, making sure Villain had no way to run around the question by giving the same answer.

“I told you. The person that could have killed you died. He’s dead, so you’re not.”

“That’s not you,” Hero once again protested. “Whoever that was, they’re irrelevant. You can stop this. This heat. This devastation. This end. You can stop all of it in its tracks.”

Hero clearly didn’t understand that it was Villain himself who he was talking about. She didn’t understand that a piece of him died at the thought of killing her. Her. Only her, dammit. Villain had killed so many people before her, centuries before her, and yet…he couldn’t kill her.

“I have a handheld fan. It’s about the only thing I have to cool you down. You want it?”

With the slightest nod, Hero accepted the offer. She wanted to argue. Wanted to keep going, keep pushing, but she was finally gaging that doing such was pointless.

The world was going to end.

#NOT A PR0MPT #So Cold #1515 words #for the record- the title is the song I used as inspiration #so even though cold has nothing to do with the story- it actually does haha #anyways! hiya! it's been a second #I write as much as i can but it doesn't always work out that i can post when i'm ready #hero x villain #hero x villain stories #hero x villain story #hero x villain drabble #hero x villain snippet #hero #villain #end of the world

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lenaariewrld · 3 years

Text

content loading

KUROO — 8. a strange feeling

You wake up when you feel an unexpected weight suddenly placed on your chest, a gentle rumbling echoing through your ribcage. Your eyes peek open to see your cat, a shark hat strapped under her chin. “Bimmie!” You coo sleepily, your arms cradling the cat and rubbing her spine. She arches her butt against your palms.

“Good morning. Time to get up,” Kuroo stands at the foot of your bed, fully dressed and staring at you over a mug of coffee. You turn your attention away from your cat to glare at him.

“What time is it?”

“Seven,”

“Fuck that,” You turn back to loving on your cat, scratching her ears and chin and rubbing the sides of her fluffy body. She purrs and coos from all the wonderful attention, kneading her paws into you particularly hard when she enjoys the rubs you give her. A gentle laugh leaves you when she finally decides she has had enough and she saunters her way to the space on your bed not occupied by humans, curling up and tucking her paws beneath herself.

Kuroo is still standing by your bed and waiting for you to get up. You sigh and sit up, frowning deeply. “Why am I getting up so early for?” You ask, “It better be for those good pancakes, or else I will kill you,” You threaten softly.

The man chuckles, watching you get up sluggishly. His amusement continues as you drag yourself around the room to gather your proper materials for waking up and being a functioning member of society. Because mornings do not make you look like a functional member of society.

He seats himself in your chair while you leave to head to your bathroom.

“We need to go grocery shopping... I got the others to make lists of things they wanted or needed, what meals we could make, and all that. I just need someone to keep track of the list,” He informs you, spinning the chair to look around your room.

The walls are decorated with posters of your favorite characters from anime and tv shows you like, shelves stacked with manga or figurines from games you’ve adored. Your desk is a neat mess of gaming things and just cute knick-knacks that make it look more you. Kuroo finds himself smiling at it all.

The bathroom door opens sometime later and he turns his head to hear you if you should speak. “Okay, I’m assuming this is your roundabout way of telling me if I go, you’ll buy me snacks?” You pose the question, rubbing a towel over your head to dry your hair.

Kuroo hums.

“You got a deal,” He finally declares, a cheeky smile flashing in your direction. You sarcastically smile back, heading to your closet and grabbing clothes to change into. Kuroo once again takes the time to look around your room.

You don’t go through your entire morning routine this time, deciding to save the man the trouble and put it off until you feel more energized to actually have thoughts. Instead, you just settle for a good shower and clean clothes. Kuroo waits patiently for you the entire time, standing up and holding out his mug for you. To your surprise, it’s not his coffee but yours, made exactly how you like it.

A funny warmth spreads in your chest, and you haven’t even drank the coffee yet.

“Thank you,” You hum, following him downstairs and towards the front door, nursing your mug the whole way. It’s not piping hot so drinking larger gulps is much easier.

You make a quick stop in the kitchen to transfer your coffee to a more portable cup before heading outside. Kuroo is waiting for you once again, a patient smile on his face.

The whole drive he plays soft music, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You notice he only moves his pointer finger or pinkie to drum.

“Okay,” You brace yourself in your seat, wiggling your body as much as you can to face Kuroo more. “What is the plan this time, chief?” You raise your brow and slide your cup into the cup holder that separates the driver and passenger seat.

“I’ve already organized the shopping list into different categories so we can just go from aisle to aisle and get it all rather than jumping throughout the whole store,” Kuroo says, “It’s on my phone,” He adds before you can question where this oh-so-meticulously put-together list is. Instead, you nod. Kuroo smiles and hands you the device from his sweatpants pocket.

“Add your snacks,”

The rest of the drive is short and helps wake you up completely. By the time Kuroo parks and you climb out, you have the energy to ransack a whole 7-11. Hypothetically.

Kuroo leads you inside, letting you push the cart and being, for once, responsible about the shopping while you trail behind with a small smile. He tells you all the tips for making sure vegetables are ripe or fruits are the kind of look and taste you might want, how to get the best quality of items without overpaying, and what to look for when buying fresh meat.

Admittedly, you are indulging him. You know a good portion of the tips (let’s be honest, who doesn’t know how to make sure an apple or a tomato is good?). However, his happiness to tell you and his earnest helpfulness are refreshing.

“Do you eat salads?” You question as he turns the third variety of lettuce in his hand, inspecting it for bug bites and dirt. “Because that’s the only thing I can think of why you need multiple kinds of lettuces,” You add when he looks at you. Kuroo pouts.

“Don’t be mean,” He huffs. You giggle.

“Then put down the lettuce. Stick to the list. And I don’t see three types of lettuces on here,”

Kuroo sets down the lettuce and turns to you, lightly keeping his hand on the cart. He leans close to you as if preparing to share a secret. “What if I just wanted us all to be healthier?” He says, adding a ‘hmm’ at the end as if he owned you with his sick hypothetical logic. You bump his shoulder and keep pushing the cart past all the leafy vegetables.

“As if you care,”

Kuroo dramatically slaps his hand over his chest. “I am wounded, muffin,” He leans over the cart to lay against your back, laughing as you try to shove him off. However, he was an athlete in high school and still kind of works out thanks to Bokuto being his roommate. You, who has never even looked at an exercise machine, are not as strong as him, and struggle to move him.

“You’re wounding me now!” You shove his bicep, earning a laugh from him. He only drapes his arms around your shoulders, relaxing his body against you further without actually hurting you.

A few other shoppers in the store look at you two. It’s mainly older women, and they simply smile at the two of you and shuffle past without saying anything.

How cute they are, they must think, so happy.

You finally manage to get Kuroo off of you and continue the shopping trip, now with a lot fewer distractions. You make Kuroo keep one hand on the cart as a precaution, reading off items he needs to grab. He doesn’t pout or complain, simply nodding along and going with what you say.

“I know this song,” You comment as you push the cart farther into an aisle. You strain your ears to hear the music faintly playing over the store’s speakers, a smile spreading on your lips as you recognize the tune you had listened to on repeat before. “It’s one of my favorites,”

“Really?” Kuroo carefully grabs a jar of jam and sets it in the car basket. You hum and nod. He smiles back and crosses his arms as he leans on the side of the cart, watching your face. “Why did you like it?”

You stop pushing the cart to check the list. “Why wouldn’t I? It was a great dancing song,” You shrug and cross off the items the both of you already set in the cart. A good chunk of the list had been cleared, and you smile at how much you’ve already completed of this trip. You turn off the phone and hold it out for the man, letting him take it back.

“Show me?” Kuroo asks, holding out his hand. You let out a small laugh. Dancing in the middle of a store aisle sounds like something from a romantic book or movie. Gently, you take his hand and step closer to him. The shopping was temporarily forgotten.

You start leading him in a simple dance, stumbling through the motions as you try to hear the music over the other noises of the store. Kuroo chuckles and follows your lead, holding both your hands and twisting around the small space. A laugh bubbles in your throat and he twirls you, his hand coming around your waist to pull you in again. “You’re quite skilled!” You say, squeezing his hand twice.

He squeezes back.

Again, you feel a funny warmth in your chest. This time, paired with a fluttering in your stomach. Kuroo’s smile never fades as he stares at you, continuing the silly made-up dance you both perform.

“You’re the one leading, I should say that about you,” Kuroo once again twirls you. You release one of his hands and extend your arm, twirling back in until your back hits his chest. You giggle. “See?” He comments, humming along to the song.

You both rock back and forth like that for a moment.

“Now you’re just being cheesy,” You tease, stepping away from the man. He shakes his head playfully, brushing off your words. You run your fingers through your hair, clearing your throat. “We should get back to the shopping,” You take the cart again. Kuroo is right behind you, already with a new item from the list in his hand. He sets it in the basket before placing his hand back on the handle.

You pat the back of his hand, relaxing your hand over his absentmindedly.

The shopping continues like normal, with occasional breaks for Kuroo to look at items or point out interesting things he sees. It’s quick work, and you find yourself at the checkout before you know it, packing your items into bags and carrying them to the car.

The strange stomach twisting doesn’t die down. Even when you unpack the bags with Kuroo, roping Kageyama and Bokuto into helping you both put all the groceries away, it sticks.

Strange.

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funfacts:

Kuroo is in charge of the grocery shopping because he’s the only one who likes doing it

Kenma or Yamaguchi usually go shopping with Kuroo but he decided to torment you instead

taglist: @odxrilove @pogpixelz @toshiswifey @thechaosoflonging @anime-meme-sanctuary @chaseyui @lucyrocks86 @mirikusashes @bolinhodadestruicao @w0rm-babie @fandomsgotmefucked @meena-in-a-nutshell @halcyondaisy @emisse @cerealfrdinner797 @sakusasimpbot

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq smau #haikyū!!#haikyuu smau #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

57. “Wait a second.. are you jealous?” + Poorly Timed Confession + modern au 😍 pretty please!!!

~Notes: OMFG angel!!! Thank you SO SO much for the prompt<3 You are a complete babe! I hope you like :S It’s cheese, but like also what else would I do? LMFAO XD

Smash Prompt Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Is Like An I Love You!!

“Hmmm… All right, would you rather, mmm… Smell Borris Johnson’s sweaty gym socks, or snog Professor Slughorn full on the mouth for a straight minute— oh erm, not so straight I reckon on second thought.”

Remus wrinkles his nose at him from across the bed, and clucks his tongue at the awful pun. “You’re unruly.”

“And you’re dodging,”

“Am not arse, I’m just recovering from that very terrifying scenario you’ve spewed out like the sadistic satanist you are.”

“Which scenario are you recovering from though?” Sirius leers, wiggling his eyebrows and jostling Remus’s textbook with his foot.

“I hate that you’re enjoying this so much,” Remus intones in a deadpan.

“Mary John, I’m waiting,” Sirius says with far too much glee.

Sometimes Remus is sure that he hates him. “Fine, the answer is I hate you.”

“Filthy and slanderous lies, Lupin.”

“You’re demented.”

“Five. Four. Three—“

“I won’t choose.”

“See, all I hear is that you wanna get it on with our chemistry professor, you saucy minx, you.”

Remus sniffs. “Better than touching that prick with even a ten foot pole.”

“Mmmm, have I ever told you how hot and heavy I get hearing you talk politics at me?”

Remus throws him the bird, which makes Sirius laugh. Remus can objectively say that Sirius has the most beautiful variations of laughter in the world, and he’d know considering he’s catalogued each one. This version is definitely top three. His care free, effortless laugh when Remus takes him off guard with a snide remark or lowly muttered retort that’s not appropriate for most company— It’s really more of a experience, truly. His breaths stutter out in a lovely staccato, and his eyes glimmer like the sea, and sometimes it feels like the world’s been suspended and it’s only the two of them in that slice of eternity.

Erm, Ah, but yeah…. That only happens occasionally, and it’s only because Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend— has been since the final year of primary school after Remus had moved to the London outskirts from his small, coastal town in Wales, and on first sight, Sirius swung a snowball straight to Remus’s face, which he of course responded to by throwing two more his way, and well… The pair of them were soaking and breathless by the end of it, but their fate was sealed, they were the greatest of friends, and nothing would ever alter that unquestionable staple.

So what if sometimes Remus’s chest thuds painfully when Sirius dimples his way, or Remus only ever wants to talk to him over anyone else— even Lily or his Mam— if he’s had a bad day, or good one, or if something remarkable had happened, or , or… Or whenever really. And there’s absolutely no significance that Remus can’t help the totally delighted grin that splits his face in half whenever he gets a text or snap from Sirius.

None of that is at all relevant.

Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend, and he’d never risk ruining that by allowing some pesky little crush swallow him whole and clammer out his mouth— vulnerable and throbbing in the open space between them. It doesn’t matter if Marlene always makes kissy faces their way, or how James only ever refers to them as a couple, and so what if Peter’s got a pole running that Remus knows basically the whole school is betting on.

They’re all wrong, Sirius would never, ever feel the same sort of way that Remus does him, that’s downright preposterous and ridiculous and just simply impossible. And Remus’s perfectly content with that very real truth… He is.

Remus is fine with it God help him. So everyone else just needs to but the fuck out of their business.

Besides, this, this right now— Him and Sirius splayed out on opposite ends of Remus’s bed, with Sirius’s feet nudging at Remus’s elbow whenever he’s got a question about there homework, with the window cracked open just so, letting in some of the chilly winter air because Sirius absolutely can not focus if he’s not cold— the fucking furnace— Where Remus can still hear the going ons of his family playing out on the floor below them… This is the most perfect place in Remus’s eyes, and he won’t ever change that, especially not to live out some boyhood fantasy that would never come into fruition in his wildest of dreams.

Remus’s content… He is… He has to be or else he’d lose one of the most vital people in his world.

“You’ve got footie practice after school, right?”

“Mmhmm, you coming to watch?”

“Only if you admit i’m your good luck charm,” Remus sardonically bats his lashes at Sirius as if he was in a mascara advert, and the taller boy blows a raspberry right back at him.

“Nice, real nice. You’re extraordinarily mature, you know that, Black?”

“And sexy, don’t forget that, oh so important descriptor Lupin.”

Remus leans against the locker besides Sirius’s, watches as he trades his current binders for the lot he’ll need for the afternoon, and tries really hard not to stare too longingly at how Sirius’s arm muscles ripple beneath their school’s maroon, uniform jackets in the most delicious of ways. (He hates the fact he’s been dissolved into a starry eyed mess lusting over the star striker, but thus is his fate.)

“I’d never commit such a faux pas, and I’m insulted that you’d ever think as much.”

Sirius sneers at him with a slight shake to his head. “So you coming or not?”

“I’m still contemplating my options,” he preens, but before Sirius could retort, Marlene, megawatt smile and dangerously sharp smirk— swaggers over towards them.

“Good morning my two beautiful chums!”

“What do you want?” Sirius asks before even glancing her way, to which Marlene blinks up at him, faux owlish. “S, I just wanted to greet a couple of my closest companions this lovely December morning,” she defends herself.

“Marls, you’re never this agreeable before noon,” Remus points out hesitantly.

“ And you rarely are even afterwards,” Sirius tacks on.

“Rude,” she pouts.

“Accurate,” Remus pipes in with an apologetic grimace.

Marlene stares them both down for a solid minute before finally relaxing her shoulders, and thrusting out the legal pad in her grasp. “The student council and spirit society are selling corsages for the snowflake formal, and Dorcas has deployed me to get some orders.”

“Whipped,” Sirius teases through a counter-fit cough.

Marlene doesn’t hesitate before smashing the legal pad on his head. “And you traipsing around getting people to buy the tickets for the theatre department last semester even though Re was only playing Mercutio wasn’t you being wrapped around his littlest finger?”

Remus flushes, feeling an unnerving amount of bees stinging around his stomach, and is thankful when the conversation pauses after Sirius casts her a very heated V. “Sod off.”

“So are you guys gonna buy or not?” Marlene huffs, weight slung to her left hip, and arms crossed against her chest.

“I’m a gay bloke, Marls, did you forget that?” Remus pins her with a one eyed squint, and she just scrunches her face up at him, exasperated.

“I’m sure there’s matching boutonnieres.”

“Fine, I just don’t have any school spirit then.”

This time she glares. “Lily and James are Head Boy and Head Girl, isn’t there like an oath between you lot, one for all and all for one, or some rot?”

“That’s the three musketeers,” he says.

“isn’t that basically who you guys are?” She reasons.

Before their wage of words could continue, Sirius just grabs the order form out of Marlene’s hands and fills out a sheet with the flurry of his pen. “Happy?”

“Positively delighted,” she leers, pecking them both on the cheek before strutting off, reminding them of their group study session at Alice’s tonight in her wake.

Sirius shakes his head, reluctantly amused with a grin gathering on the corners of his mouth, but for Remus everything feels like it’s frozen. “You didn’t have to do that you know? ’S not like James is much of a Head Boy anyhow, and Lily wouldn’t have really cared.”

Sirius shrugs, commences their walk to the opposite wing of the school for their shared history class. “Emmy likes that sort of romantical shite.”

Remus sees red, feels his heart lodging in his damn esophagus. “Oh, so— Erm, you’re taking her then,” Remus wonders if his tone sounds as detached as he feels.

“Yeah,” Sirius eyes him, questioning. “She wants that title of snow queen real bad, made me promise I’d campaign with her and the whole shtick.”

“Oh,” it’s like Remus could feel it when he closes off completely, can feel his hopes squashed down and his heart contract and his every organ collapsing in on themselves, leaving him feeling hollowed out completely.

Sirius slows down marginally, eyeing him with a slight frown. “Is that all right? I know you two don’t exactly get along and we were planning to go as a group, bu—“

“It’s fine,” Remus hates how screechy his voice gets, how he feels like he’s about to scream. “You two are a shoe in, no doubt.”

Sirius tries to mirror Remus’s faux excitement with a tepid grin of his own, but Remus doesn’t let him, instead commandeering their typical table on the back row and tries focussing on the thousandth war with France while his world tilts off kilter.

Emmy is beautiful, and popular and her smile alone dazzles the whole room. She’s everything that Sirius should look for in a partner, someone to match his whip lash wit, and his taste for all things exuberant that skirt on flashy, and someone who’s got just as many friends and admirers as him.

They’re perfect and Remus should just get over his petty ass hatred of her, even if he still thinks she can be down right cruel and selective and selfish. Qualities Sirius surely isn’t… But maybe it’s all in his head how she sneers at people who she finds plane, or how she literally guffaws over the misfortune of others. Maybe his perception of how she wields people in like moths to a flame just to get what she wants is all a misunderstanding, or in his head or something.

Maybe all that’s possible, even if Remus seriously doubts it.

But at the end of the day, Sirius loves her— has been basically infatuated by Emmeline Vance since she first transferred at the start of their Freshman year. Sirius loves her, and who ever Sirius loves is merely an extension of him… Right?

Remus just needs to get over it and somehow rid himself of this crush he’s been fostering for so long it’s basically a part of him at this point. Though, he thinks it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t see their faces plastered on posters everywhere the week and a half leading up to the dance— looking like actual royals that would put Will and cate to shame.

“Yo cheekbones!”

Remus starts, swivels around from where he was scratching his pen to paper, finding Sirius— as glimmering and beautiful as always— swaggering up to him, insanely electric smile painted over his face.

“Would you rather eat a jumbo jar of jalapeños without a break, or eat the toenails from someone with athlete’s foot next to your dinner every night of the rest of your life?”

“I thought you were having lunch with Emmy to keep up your royalty status before this weekend?” Remus asks, tacitly side stepping from the horrific images swimming to the forefront of his mind because of his cruel question.

“Now that doesn’t sound like an answer to my ultimatum,” Sirius says in a singsong sort of voice.

“You answer me first,” Remus says airily.

“But I asked first,” Sirius argues haughtily.

“Well both your options would kill me, so I wouldn’t do either,” Remus retorts.

“That’s not how the game works!”

“You’re the one who always says that rules were made to be broken,” Remus says, lofty as all get out,, and dissolves into laughter at the completely cross look Sirius’s giving him.

“You were born to be contrary, weren’t you?”

“So lunch?”

“Got bored,” he shrugs, hopping onto the corner of the desk Remus’s working on. “What you up to instead of eating?”

“My position paper for Model UN.” Sirius smiles down at him, and Remus can’t help the flush that spreads across his cheeks in return. “Not as glamorous as running as Snow King, I know.”

“It’s precious,” Sirius contends, his soft timbre sounding like syrup and his long fingers fluttering against Remus’s skin, pushing back a lock of his ever disheveled, tawny curls in a far to gentle way, and Remus gulps before averting his gaze to break the sudden tautness that’s built between them.

They’ve had so many of these almost moments, ones that Remus’s always treasured but he knows doesn’t mean much of anything at all to Sirius— Sirius who is effortlessly hilarious, and brims with genius and who is so beautiful that sometimes it hurts looking at him for too long. Sirius who has a new suitor at his beck and call on a near weekly basis. But whenever they transpire now, it just hurts all the more because Remus knows in his heart of hearts that they will never lead anywhere, and Sirius is in love with Emmy and Remus can’t let himself float around in this daydream for any longer.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, shuffles in his seat only slightly. “I’m Algeria so my Mam’s pretty excited about it. She’s been telling me all the stuff Wikipedia’s got wrong and everything.”

Sirius laughs, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Your mother is kinda everything, you know that?”

Remus twists his mouth up, reluctant. “Don’t tell her as much, or else she’ll go on and on how she won Miss Teen Great Britain when she was only sixteen.”

“Hmm, I was wondering where you got that pretty face.”

“You, Sirius Black, can go lick an unwashed arse.”

“You’ll never catch a suitor with that cheek of yours though. I’d work on that, Lupin.”

“I don’t think I could ever win Miss Congeniality, alas.” Remus doesn’t quite catch Sirius’s reply, to busy responding too the text his phone just chirped with instead.

“Mary John, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sirius’s brows hike up, flabbergasted smile stretched across his face. “So totally rude! And I came all the way here— to the place where dreamers die— just to spend time with you.”

“Sorry,” Remus gives him an abashed little half grin before setting the phone back down. “’s just Fabian.”

Sirius’s expression drops, goes inquisitive instead of his typical ebullience. “Fabian? Why’s Fabian Prewett texting you, and why is he,” Sirius crooks his head so he’s able to read the new message that popped up on Remus’s phone’s screen. “Asking about color coordination?”

Remus blushes for an entirely new reason now, one he likes much less. “Ah, he’s the sort to like it when our suits like match, but not in an abrasive fashion, you know?”

Sirius’s face goes scarily blank.

“Your suits? Suits for what?”

“The dance…” Remus says slowly, he’s confused what Sirius’s confused about.

“The dance… Right… I thought you were still going with everyone else?”

“Pff, no way,” Remus scoffs. “Lily’s only pretending to be single, you know how red in the face she gets whenever around James. They’ll end up dancing the whole night away. And with Dorcas running the whole event and Benjy thinking any social function is a plague on society, that’d leave me stuck with Peter and Mary, . And honestly I’ve seen enough of her tongue shoved down his throat for a lifetime.” Remus is only slightly surprised that doesn’t even elicit a chuckle from Sirius, who’s now looking a bit stormy— and he thinks he’ll never be accustomed to his mercurial moods that can change as quickly as the snap of the finger.

“Right… So you’re going with Fabian Prewett… as your date?”

“Yes… Why is that so hard to believe?”

“it’s, it’s not,” Sirius scrambles, suddenly standing up.

“Then why are you being so weird about this,” Remus argues, getting up to meet him at his level.

“Am not!”

“You’re going with Emmy,” Remus reminds him, this edge of desperate.

“I know I am, okay. But you— you—“ Sirius tappers off, eyes glassy and lips parted with words he can’t get out, and Jesus fucking Christ is it weird how for the first time ever their roles have reversed. Sirius can’t put any sentences together, and everything Remus’s been beating down— everything thrashing inside of him— are now burning his throat and warring over who can spill out first.

“What? I’m suppose to stay behind like the pathetic, nobody friend. The guy who’s just there to moon after you while you have an actual life. The Judie garland to your Mickie Roomie!”

“What are you even talking about right now!” Sirius shouts, sounding as torn apart as Remus feels.

“As if you don’t know!” He snarls, collecting his books into his backpack— Suddenly this room feels to stifling. He can’t breathe and it’s too hot and his chest is pounding.

He’s imploding and Remus has no idea how to rectify it.

“Just stop! Remus Stop!”

“leave me the fuck alone Sirius!”

“Why are you being such a prick about this!”

And that, that makes Remus angry, angrier than he’s ever been.

Before he could even think about it for a moment longer, Remus is rounding on him, dashing so close to Sirius that he can taste his breath with how close their faces are skirting against each other.

“I’m in love with you! I’ve been in love with you for forever, and I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I know that you’re in love with Emmy and, and I just know okay.”

“Wha—“ Sirius sputters, looking like a gaping fish. “Wait a second, are you jealous? Of sodding Emmy Vance?”

“Don’t!” Remus practically growls out. "Don’t disrespect me, okay? Don’t pretend that you never knew, or that I was such a good actor. I’ve been in love with you for years and you always knew and Fine, I get it. You never felt the same way, that’s fine. But just don’t pretend as if you never had the choice, don’t make me out as the bad guy for actually, finally saying yes to a bloke who’s actually into me. I need to fucking give up on the premise of us, I need to get over you. So I’m going out with fucking Fabian Prewett and you’re going out with Emmy Vance and that’s that!”

His breaths are labored, jagged and painful, as they race out of him, but Remus can’t move. He’s staring straight into Sirius’s beautiful, gray eyes, and he sees everything he’s always seen there, and hates that this is probably the last time he’ll get to be this close to him.

Not after this.

“I didn’t,” is the first thing Sirius croaks out, broken and helpless. “i didn’t know, Remus you have to believe me— I didn’t—”

“How! How could you not know!” He shouts back, but Remus doesn’t get his answer in so many words, instead he feels it.

He feels it when Sirius clamps his hands on either end of his waste-line, feels it when Sirius smashes their lips together in a cacophony of lips, and teeth and spit. He feels it when Sirius moans in side of him, when his hand moves down, spreads across the width of the small of his back, pushing their torsos even closer. Remus feels it when everything goes into focus, when he takes Sirius into his arms, greedy and excited and disbelieving.

And Remus thinks to all the other times he’s kissed another boy— To this prior weekend swapping snogs with a beaming Fabian in the back of a theatre. He thinks of how there was never anything worth anything when he kissed any of them Because it was all Sirius, always Sirius. And he could try to love Fabian, or some other cute boy, and he tried, and he tried, and he tried, and he gave all he had…but it was never enough, could it ever be enough?

Remus knows it in his bones that it’s enough when it’s with Sirius.

When they finally pull apart it’s difficult to breathe and Remus feels lightheaded and it’s wonderful in the most marvelous of ways.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says in a whisper.

“Maybe next time give a guy some warning?” Remus can’t help the shit eating smirk that swipes across his mouth and is elated at the adorably cross scowl Sirius answers him with.

“Fine jackass, how’s this for a warning, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“That’ll be sufficient, I suppose,” Remus goads, laughing against Sirius’s lips when he does just that.

~*~

Sirius ends up winning snow king, but rejects the dance with Emmy, opts to ask Remus to join him instead, as if they were in the middle of some John Hughes movie from the fucking 80s.

It’s utterly ridiculous and overdone and simply way too much— but everyone applauded and cheered and when Sirius kissed him in the middle of it, Remus felt as if his whole body sung with joy.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #SPILT INK #PROMPTS #I love you endlessly #!!!!

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