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kaeyas-beloved · 6 months

Text

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

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melonn-soda · 27 days

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❝GIDDY UP & GO!!... ❞

word count: 3.3k

warnings: subbot! male reader, domtop! boothill, genitals are not explicitly mentioned, grinding, no actual penetration, unnecessary descriptions how much there is of spit (sorry if ur not into that), predator/prey if u squint, nd gunplay if u squint really really hard (is implied), lots of pentnames, praise, save a horse ride a cowboy but I change a factor, cowboy hat rule because RRGHGHGRHRGHHGHGHG

prompt: boothill has made it his life mission to cash in the money he gets when he lands you behind bars. however, when it becomes apparent as to why you let him pursue you, he begins to chase you for an entirely different reason

notes: lost 50/50 to yanqing (he's still my kid nd I love him regardless YANQING HATERS LEAVE!!!!) when wishing for aventurine. now I'm pulling for boothill if I don't get my little gambler (if Sunday is playable and better than boothill then im sorry to my fav cowboy yeehaw) not beta read

fem aligned dni

“Oh, my.”

Boothill hates your guts. That’s a given.

He hates the way you carry yourself, the sly remarks you’ll make if you spot even one hint of insecurity, the slight draw on certain syllables to give a mocking tone- you, in general. Although he’s more on the bothering side than the bothered, you’re just so much more annoying than he thought even possible. Guess that’s why you’re known as a high-end bandit.

He’s been on your tail for weeks, chasing any leads (a lot of them, like you wanted the chase) he could get his hands on. He’s even seen you slinking around taverns, poker tables, run-down hotels- for fucks’ sake, even on horseback racing down a dirt path while attempting to rob a moving train. To feel the satisfaction of seeing the credits Boothill would obtain after putting you behind bars is all he wants to experience because this is just getting ridiculous.

So, why the hell now, is he bound up to the ceiling with chains thicker than his own ankle after finding your base?

The amused smile finds its way upon your lips and Boothill wants to do nothing more than to kick it right off. You were in a vulnerable position before he decided to sneak in, with your chair tipped as your feet were kicked up on a busted wooden table, a bandana resting over your eyes to block out the sunlight that dared to drift into the room. Boothill made the dumbest mistake by alerting you of his presence through triggering a well hidden trip-wire. Perking you up, you began to rise from your seat, swiftly removing the bandana from your eyes and fingers instinctively on the handle of your revolver that sat on the gun holster strapped to your thigh. The trap triggered so fast, Boothill’s sensors barely had time to react to it before the ‘snap!’s and ‘crack!’s echoed throughout the room and he was pressed against the ceiling within seconds.

Sharp glares were stabbing through your form as your hand rested on your hip as you whistled, looking up at the ranger in slight surprise and smugness. Aeons, he hated you.

“Wow, such a reckless move to jus’ prance yer way in here, no? Hey, aren't cha a Galaxy Ranger or somethin’?” You tease, swiveling your chair so that you could sit backwards on it, crossing your arms atop of the back rest so you could rest your chin on your forearms, “Surely, ya coulda suspected that I woulda set up a trap. But why waste all yer precious time on someone as measly as me? I ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ ol’ bandit.”

“You better seal yer pretty lil’ lips, doll.” Boothill hisses at you, his voicebank glitching to censor the words he so desperately wanted to say, “My bullets don’t take too kindly to sweet talkers n’ foxes.”

A laugh echoes throughout the falling apart structure then settles into a hum as you stand up and kick the chair against the wall, “Ya sure like to talk big. Kinda fits ya, though.” The chair slams right under Boothill and you slowly make your way towards it, the clinking of spurs on your boots highlighting every step you take.

Looking up at the suspended robot, your left foot raises and rests on the seat, leaning in to provoke the cyborg even further, “It’s kinda cute how ya keep pursuin’ me despite all these failed attempts. How ‘bout I give ya more of a reason to keep chasin’ me than only doin’ it for jus’ the credits?”

Boothill’s eyebrows creased in suspicion as your hand raises up to his face, contemplating just biting your fingers straight off until he hears the click of the safety and a metal barrel against the human skin of his jaw. His teeth clench in anger as you nearly laugh at his compliance, reaching above his head and snatching his hat right off.

Oh, he was going to kill you for sure-

The hat plops onto your head and you wink at him while sticking your tongue out.

What.

There wasn’t-

There was no way.

“Catch me if ya can, cowboy.” You say dismissively, briskly turning around and walking out of the rundown hideout. However, before you could get out of his line of sight, your head turned to face him and you said, “I’ll be waitin’. As always.”

Dumbfounded and a half an hour later collapsed on the floor from the wooden boards snapping- which loosened the chains, he replays that minute over and over again. He didn’t want to believe that had actually happened but his memory told him otherwise.

There was no way that you...

Whatever. He’ll think about it later. He needs to get his damn hat back.

The first time Boothill finds you, it’s in a more forest-y area. You’re on your trusty steed, talking to some other criminals with little interest. The cowboy watches the interaction, paying special attention to your reactions to see if you’ve noticed his presence. From what he could tell, you didn’t seem to see that he was watching while using the shrubbery to cover him and the horse he was on. The people you were talking to he recognized from some wanted posters, only worth some credits. Not as much as your bounty, though.

...

...You’re still wearing his hat.

“Look, partner,” Your voice dips into an exhausted, low, sigh, “I need that shipment as soon as possible, ya hear? I ain’t got too much time left before she’s reached her time. Ion care how ya get it, I need it in at least a week! Otherwise she’ll get real snappy and I’m gonna hafta put some lead in some poor person's head.”

One of the bandits flashes a worried look to another, “Boss, ya don’t understand! The Xianshou Luofu’s been havin’ sum sorta delay! We ain’t gonna get those packages ‘til some long period of time!”

Boothill’s interest peaks as you begin to snap, “Did ya not hear me? I said, ‘Ion care how ya get them!’ Find a way! Talk to that Trailblazer everyone’s been praisin’ about or somethin’! Jus’ get me my stuff before ‘m gonna start blowin’ some brains out-”

A rustle causes you to pause your sentence as you draw your weapon immediately, the barrel facing his direction and bullets fly. Boothill’s horse had begun to munch on the bush, which gave away his position, but thankfully he moved quick enough to get out of the way.

You decided to book it when you caught sight of the familiar white and black hair, spurs hitting the sides of your horse as you begin to get out of the area to leave nothing but a trail of dust. Boothill doesn’t hesitate to race after you, whipping the reins of his horse to get her going.

Branches and twigs tug at Boothill’s hair as he chases you through the forest, lowering his torso so that he could lessen the wind resistance as his horse’s hooves slam against the ground. You’re quite the distance away, mostly because your horse is pretty speedy. It’s how you get away from crime scenes so fast. However, Nellie, the horse Boothill is riding currently, is also quite fast.

Although, not fast enough because in the end, he still loses you.

The curses he spits all get censored immediately as he slows into a stop, head turning in every direction to see if you left any trail behind. Only to see none. Didn’t expect as much from a skilled criminal.

The second time he spots you is in the tavern, playing a game of poker with people that had their pockets stuffed full of cash. ‘Rich folk,’ Boothill grimaces as he could see them tilt their chin up like the world owes them something. If you rob them, he won’t feel even a sliver of remorse.

He knows that you can see him as he leans against the wall to watch the match, some of the rich getting intensively frustrated as they begin to fold after betting so high. Judging by the scheming smile on your face, he could tell you have a winning hand. Then again, when are you never smiling like you have something up your sleeve?

Finally, in the showdown, you and the person you’re going up against reveal your cards and you win with a four of a kind. Lucky.

The people at the table groan and push their chips in your direction, getting up to leave as their attitudes have just been soured over that singular match. Boothill takes the opportunity to walk over to you and remove the gun from his holster and press it right up against your lower back, hand coming up to snatch his hat that rests atop your head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A window shatters behind him and he could hear flames begin to roar but he doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from you. Only when he feels cold metal press against the nape of his neck does his actions falter and his eyes turn to face whoever decided to draw their weapon.

He blinks in shock to see a figure completely made of water, his gaze returning to you and seeing you sitting on the edge of the table with your gun pressed against his forehead. Shit. He’s lost again.

The tavern completely surrenders to the flames as people scream at the sight of fire, swallowing up the alcohol and wood. Boothill can hear his fans whirring to prevent himself from overheating but the attempt is futile as the room begins to get unbearably hot. He’s not sure if it’s just the fire that’s causing him to overheat or it’s because you look insanely good with all this red and orange light.

...

What is he even thinking right now?

“Y’know, it’s gettin’ real fun toyin’ with ya, cowboy.” You speak, completely unbothered by all the heat in the building. He can’t even see a single drop of sweat on your face. Even so, you continue, “But I think ya can do a little better than this.”

The ranger’s lips purse in offense, glaring at you as best as he could. The gun you had pointed lazily at his forehead falls to the floor and Boothill isn’t sure how long he can last in this heat. Before his system could finally shut down because of overheating, he could feel your lips press against the area where your gun was pressed up against. Then, he falls over as his system forcibly turns him off.

The third time Boothill sees you, he’s lying on a metal workbench with cold water floating above him and fans blowing in his direction. He’s confused, obviously, and on his toes as he realizes he’s not in an area he’s not familiar with. He attempts to sit up to find a way to escape only to realize that he can’t move his arm. Now, he’s terrified.

“Relax, cowboy.” Your voice coos from behind a computer, typing away at something as you're taking a tip from a glass. Presumably water. “I’m cooling ya off. You’re welcome... You should be able to move now.”

Boothill shoots up from his spot and rips off the cables that are attached to his left arm, head darting around to look for his gun. He hears a click and once again finds himself with a gun pressed up against his jaw.

“Lookin’ for this?”

The crosshair that replaces his once human pupils flit over to your direction, noticing that you were holding his revolver in your dominant hand. Boothill swears that you must like pointing a barrel in his direction for how many times this has been done. He also sees that you’re wearing his very cropped jacket over your usual attire. ... And you’re still wearing his hat.

“That’s mine, pretty boy.” The ranger gives you a half-assed growl as his censor kicks in once more, already getting annoyed at your sly behaviour, “Ya really got a knack for takin’ stuff that’s not yours, huh? No wonder yer a criminal.”

You giggle at his words, tossing his gun on the metal workbench, “It’s not loaded, neither is your little gun hand.” You tell him, like he was going to start unloading mags into your skin. Turning around, you walk back to your computer and open up a drawer on the desk it sits on, “Well?” You ask after a momentary silence, leaning on one of your legs as you crack open a bottle of whiskey and begin to pour it into your empty glass.

“‘Well’, what?” Boothill narrows his eyes at you, picking up his revolver and shoving it back into his thigh holster. He’ll just have to go to the nearest mechant and buy more bullets.

“Ain’t ya gonna, I don’t know, take yer hat back?” You ask him, taking a sip of the alcohol that gives a slight burn down your throat, “We’re in an enclosed space, barely any room t’move around, exit’s right behind ya ‘n all. Perfect chance t’arrest me, if I dare so say m’self.”

He blinks. There’s got to be some sort of trap if the setup is this perfect. He’s not going to make the same mistake he did before, not again. So, his sensors scan the room quickly, which leaves you unamused, and he sees that there are in fact no traps in this room. Boothill almost doesn’t want to believe it.

“Are ya playin’ some sort of game with me?” Boothill’s eyes begin to squint in suspicion, carefully trying to think of a situation you might pull that puts him on the losing end of the stick, “Yer jus’ gonna let yourself get arrested? Jus’ like that?”

“What? Ya don’t wanna do it? Too scared?” You taunt him again, causing the cowboy’s circuits to boil in animosity.

“Ya know what?” Boothill smiles a tense one, taking long, menacing steps in your direction, “I’ve ‘bout had it with your attitude, pretty boy. Seems like ya didn’t have anybody ta teach ya proper manners.” All of a sudden, you felt yourself being slammed up against the wall behind you with a grunt, Boothill’s right hand keeping your wrists together and his left hand tilting your chin up to look at him, his eyes glowing a dangerous red, “I mean, after that stunt ya pulled in yer lil’ base, it seems like ya wanna be caught by me.”

“Hah.. guilty as charged.” You laugh, attempting to keep your smooth facade up, only for it to crack once you could feel his metal knee nudge between your thighs. A whine rips through your throat as he keeps his knee still, not bothering to give you the pleasure you oh so wanted from the day you saw him.

“How ‘bout it, doll?” Boothill sneers at your pathetic expression, lips getting dangerously close to yours, “I can give ya a better punishment than jail could.”

One thing’s for sure: Boothill’s mechanical body does not have any built in... pleasure devices, he’s nearly as smooth as a doll. However, there is a slightly large bump on his pelvis in the shape of an oval that if you were to grind just right up against, you’ll-

“O-oh!”

Boothill’s lips curve up into a smirk as he sees you push down hard against his metallic form, trying to settle your trembles by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to stabilize yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, seeing you all desperate for sexual relief. The way you hopelessly cling to him like he’s the last thing keeping you alive. He can’t believe he actually thought about putting you behind bars if getting you wrapped around his finger was this satisfying.

“How’s it feel, pretty boy?” Boothill whispers in your ear, causing a shiver to rack your spine as his grip adjusts to settle on your lower waist, pushing you even further against him, “Feel like yer gonna explode yet?”

Whimpering in response, your shaky fingertips grip onto his shoulders as your forehead now presses against his. Soft pants fill the room and Boothill can practically see the hearts in your eyes as your hips continue to move against his. You both still have your clothes on but this all still feels so intimate, probably better than actual penetration.

The ranger’s hand reaches up to tug his hat that still rests on your head, fixing it back from its tilted state, “Ya look like ya wanna kiss, doll.” He teases, bringing your chin closer to the point where your noses brushed up against one another.

“Pl-please..” You say breathily, gently tugging at his hair.

“Attaboy.” Boothill snickers in response, “Looks like yer finally learning.” His freakishly long tongue slithers past his lips as soon as they press against yours, slipping into your mouth as saliva begins to spill down your chin. Aeons, you’re just so cute.

Soft moans are swallowed up by Boothill’s greedy mouth, his thumb coming up to pull against your bottom lip before he pulls away and the only thing that connects your mouths is the thin trail of spit. His robotic thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as drool continues to spill down your pretty lips. He could get used to this.

He notices how much faster your hips move, calculating that you were close as whines and whimpers flood the room. The smile on Boothill’s face only widens even further, bumping his hips up to catch you off guard. He knows he succeeds when he hears a shaky squeak come from your mouth.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Ya gonna bust?” The ranger sneers, the thumb in your mouth shifting so he widens your lips by pushing at the sides, “Y’know, I could easily deny ya of that relief. Ya kinda deserve it for teasin’ me this whole time.”

You shake your head violently, already too close to be pulled away now. Boothill snickers in response, “No? What makes ya think you can tell me what to do?” A pleading look flashes across your features and Boothill has half the decency to make you beg for release. He decides to have mercy on you, though, “Mmmn, I mean, I guess ya have been pretty obedient. Go on and blow yer load f’me, pretty.”

With a shudder and a slight bite on Boothill’s metal thumb, your pants get soaked in your fluids, staining the fabric. Your hips jerk a couple of times to ride out your orgasm then you started slumping onto his chest in exhaustion. Boothill’s other hand rubs at your hip to soothe you, letting you rest in place to calm the trembles that still cause your body to twitch in overstimulation.

“Good boy.” He says softly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, watching as it dripped since it was slick with your spit. Letting you catch your breath for a moment, he waits before he decides to ask, “So, what package were ya waitin’ for?”

“Baby stuff.” You sigh, face burying into Boothill’s neck, “My sister’s expecting ‘nd her wife’s been tellin’ me to get that stuff as soon as possible. The Luofu has been delaying their packages for a bit, somethin’ about shippin’ difficulties. Can’t believe ya’d remember something like that, though.”

The cowboy huffs in response, “Bein’ a cyborg’s got some perks. The only bad part is that ion got a dick to fuck ya with. Woulda been nice to see ya unable to walk for a few days.”

You sit up and give him a weird look, hands resting on his shoulders, “Ya do know strap-ons exist, right?” The way you said that made him feel much stupider, like you were pointing out the obvious to him.

“...Oh.” Boothill’s face flushes embarrassingly hot as his fans kick in once more.

Aeons, he hated you.

#x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader

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murdrdocs · 4 months

Text

THRILL OF IT. luke castellan

description. when luke chases you, most of the fun comes with what happens next.

includes. suggestive content MDNI, GN!reader, chasing, hunter/prey vibes, luke lifts r once, size kink vibes, dom!luke

wc: 1k+

a/n: inspired by luke saying "they know better"

Footsteps sound from behind you, heavy and thunderous as they snap twigs and leaves with each step. You know he’s not attempting to be stealthy. He wants you to know he’s right on you. He wants you a little scared.

You try to pretend you’re not, but your heart is thumping with more than exertion.

You, on the other hand, run as light as you can. Lodging your sneakers amongst the in-between spots, searching for the softest part of the ground to press into. You hope he's not checking for foot prints, you can't afford time to cover your tracks.

Speed is your main concern, and Luke Castellan is fast. He's agile. And he's going to catch you. it's only a matter of time before you're wrapped in his arms and left at his mercy.

No matter how many times you and Luke rehearse this dance, changing moves throughout, the ending is always the same.

He gives you a head start only to catch up in less than a minute. He runs a little bit slower only to eventually have you in his arms. No matter how much mercy he chooses to give you, you always lose.

He's always the winner.

(Yet, with the reward he chooses, you figure that you both win in the end)

Luke snaps a twig diagonal to your left and sings your name. He's smiling, you can hear it in the syllables. Just as you know he's going to catch you, he knows the same.

He's a natural at this. He was born with something you weren't. Something you had to work to gain. Something he had to train you in, and even then the skill wasn't completely hardwired into your body.

Still, he must have taught you something because it is pure instinct whenever your body sends you to the right.

You weave between trees, bouncing off of rocks with trained deftness. If luke wasn’t hunting you like you were prey currently, you would boast to him about your improvement. Instead, you worry about how you're accidentally triggering the loud crunch of leaves along the way. You're breathing too hard, too, you can't really help it, and you figure that at this point you should try to hide.

You thought you would have more time, maybe a little more distance to adequately prepare yourself, but you turn around the base of a large tree and then you’re being pulled into his chest, lifted off the ground a little without much effort from him.

You hadn't heard him get closer to you, or maybe you misinterpreted where he was the entire time. Still, it doesn't matter because you've been caught.

You try to squirm out of his grasp. Maybe get away and buy yourself some more time. After all, it's not over until you've given up. Until he's made you submit.

But Luke's strong. His arms aren't budging and after only a few fruitless seconds of trying to escape, you go limp.

He’s laughing as he's putting you down facing that same tree, not even gracing you with the sight of his face. He cages you against bark by pushing his groin into your ass and pressing both of his hands into the tree on either side of your head. He's a little tired, too, breathing just loud enough for you to hear.

When he rests his forehead against the back of your neck, you can feel how damp his skin is. It makes you proud. Finally, you'd given Luke a real challenge. Gone were the times where he had you in his arms within five minutes.

"Longest you've lasted," he admits, laughing a little against your skin before he presses a kiss there.

You're about to say something snarky and full of pride, feeling like you're allowed to brag this once. But Luke speaks before you can even think of a reply.

“But you know better, don't you?” He speaks next to your ear, his cheek soft against your earlobe and your own cheek with the proximity. You know the question isn't rhetorical, he expects you to respond.

You're too headstrong to do so. Too upset at having been caught again.

As if to prompt you, Luke nudges the side of your face with his nose. "Hm? Don't you, angel?"

He removes one hand from the rough bark to run it down your side, gripping your hip with enough strength to warn you.

Don't try to run, he's telling you.

With where this is leading, you wouldn't dream of it.

You sigh with a little too much attitude. It's harsh, a small growl almost forming in your throat like you're one of Hades' own creatures and not Luke's lover.

He briefly comments on your behavior with a tut, digging into your side and pulling you back against him with more force. "You know how I get when you're like this."

It's not a threat or a warning. He likes when you have some bite. The stiff erection in his pants is testament.

His head ducks and he nips at your neck. "Answer me."

You might as well. Especially if you want to get what you want.

"Yes, Luke."

"'Yes' what?"

"I know better."

He hums a little appreciatively. Like he's pleased.

His hand circles around to the front of your shorts where he pops the button and slides the zipper down. He slips his hand into the gap created, pressing two fingers into the damp spot of your underwear. His free hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side so he can fully stare down at you.

There's a hard look in his eyes. The deep brown, practically black, is full of arrogance. The look of a winner.

"And what else do you know?" He's slid his hand under the elastic of your underwear at this point. He's not wasting any time, and you understand that there's no point in prolonging things.

This time, you're quick to respond, letting your head fall back to rest against the solid flesh of Luke's chest as you wrap a hand around his wrist to ground yourself.

"You'll always catch me," comes your response, a little breathless.

That only makes Luke grin wider. Bigger. More triumphant.

"That's right."

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes misc #luke castellan

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lowkeyremi · 9 days

Text

Choso who went into battle not knowing if he'd ever see you again. You knew this as well as he did, but he didn't want you to worry so he tried to comfort your mind.

"When I get back you gotta make me one of those cakes with the strawberries in it. I'll be thinking about it the whole time." He's hugging you, your head resting on his chest, tears from your leaky eyes stain his shirt.

"Don't go." Is all you can say. For some reason your heart is telling you that this is the last time you'll ever see your husband. This isn't just an assumption either, it's a very, very strong feeling inside of you.

"Baby. You know I have to.." His cold hands rub up and down your back, the coldness reminds of you of death.

"But.. what if this is our last time together?" He freezes completely, even his breath stops for a few seconds.

"I promise you, honey, this will not be our last time together." Choso leans down to meet your lips in a kiss, this kiss held so much slow, raw emotion. His hands caressed the back of your head and you felt more tears roll down your face.

"Choso! We gotta get goin'!" Yuki says tapping her foot impatiently. You have nothing against Yuki, but at that moment so much hate builds up inside of you- she's trying to take him away from you. She's trying to bring him closer to death.

"Choso please..." It's desperate and whiny, your voice cracks upon the last syllable. He gives you one last tight squeeze before muttering a, "I'll see you later baby."

The worst part about the departure is he doesn't look back, but you don't blame him. If he had looked back at your weepy eyes, he probably would have stayed instead of fighting for Japan.

Over the months of his absence you grow bitter, hateful, and quiet. Rarely do you talk anymore so when you hear your own voice it sounds foreign. Even your closest friends can't bring you out of the house without you bursting into tears, because the same door you walk out of is the same door he left out of.

"[name] you have to get out of here, you're going to spiral sooner or later," Your best friend mutters for the nth time.

"I'M NOT LEAVING! THIS IS ALL I HAVE LEFT!" You scream out. Regret instantly washes over you. "I'm-"

"I know you're hurting, don't worry about it." They say in a calming manner.

"I just- it's been two weeks since he's called me. Two. Weeks." Your best friend joins you on your couch, the same couch you and your husband have had many movie nights on.

"I know you're worried, [name]. About him, about your future, about everything... and I'm not going to tell you to be optimistic about the whole thing because it's 50/50 but I do want you to stay strong. It's what your husband would want, right?" They're right, if Choso were here he would tell you to push through and stay strong like you always do.

"Okay- fuck- alright. I'll go put some different clothes, let's get out of here. I haven't left in a long time."

The call came a month later. It was Yaga, he didn't sugar coat it, not that you wanted him to anyway.

"I'm sorry for your loss." It hurts when you hear those words being said to you over the phone. Your ears get a fuzzy feeling your vision blurs, and you start to hyperventilate.

"[name]? [name] are you there?" Everything went dark after that.

Trying to cope was the worst part of it all. Yaga had called you a couple of weeks later saying his body was so mutilated that they couldn't bring it back to bury him properly.

Now, you truly have nothing left, well, technically you have all the things he's given to you over the years, but you don't have him.

You went to therapy, you went to stay with your family, none of it worked. All you could think about was the last time he held you, his body was warm but his hands were cold to the touch.

As much as it hurts, your therapist has suggested moving out of your house because your pain is still raw and being in the house will bring up painful memories. Of course you refuse, why is everyone trying to take away what you have left of your husband?

In your bed was a picture of Choso, one you'd always keep with you when you missed him horribly. As you lie down for the night, you hug the picture tightly while tears silently fall from your eyes. At this point you don't even make sound anymore when you cry, it's just tears.

Ultimately, Yuji was the one to help you start your healing process. When everything had faded he came back, in rough shape might you add, but at least he was back. Instead of going to see all his friends when he returns, he goes to see you.

When he knocks on your door you assume it's your friends or a family member coming to get you out of the house. Seeing Yuji at your front door was very unexpected on your part. Before you can even get a sentence out he's squeezing you in a bone crushing hug.

"Choso told me to give you a hug for him. It was the last thing he asked for." His softly spoken words meet your ears. Almost immediately you squeezed Yuji tighter, "Thank you ,Yuji..."

"I know that you've known him longer than I have but.." he pauses, "his death hurt me just as much, and shit- I'm not gonna lie and say everything will be okay or everything will go back to normal, but I will say that he wants us to continue on even when it's rough."

Yuji's words sink into your brain and your first thought is selfish 'he wouldn't want me to keep going without him'. After a few seconds of rethinking you agree with Yuji, Choso was a fighter and he pressed on for what he believed, and yes, he would want you and his brother to do the same.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 259 #jjk spoilers #kinda???#jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso #choso kamo #choso angst #choso kamo angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x reader #jjk x reader angst #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso drabbles

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wileys-russo · 1 month

Note

https://x.com/kaitsgooner/status/1752015922892620031?s=46&t=k-Lwg3ELXoOdR-KcbCNumw

Leah’s always gossiping😭 she’s so funny. Would love a little fic of Leah and reader just on the bench and Leah is just full on gossiping to reader while your trying to focus on the game. Eventually getting pulled into Leah’s gossip

gossip II l.williamson

you watched with pride as your girlfriend jogged over to the sidelines, smacking her palm against laia's and clapping the catalonian on the back who raced across the pitch to take her place.

you waited patiently as leah greeted the coaching staff, shaking hands and having a quick word with the defensive head and pointing out a few things as he slid over to speak with jonas and leah made her way down the line of subs, fist bumping each girl as she went.

"hello bench warmer." the blonde teased with a grin, quickly pecking your lips and dropping down onto the grass in front of you, waving off frida's offer to move down a seat so your girlfriend could sit beside you.

"charming as ever darling." you sighed with a smile, handing her a recovery shake as she shuffled back slightly to lean against your legs, patting your knee affectionately.

as she locked into a conversation with alessia who was sat on your other side you zoned out a little, chin resting on your fist and watching the game.

"babe!" you glanced down as leah shook your leg, raising an eyebrow. "do you remember the florist? the one down the street from that bakery we like?" leah questioned as you smiled.

"lee we can gossip all you want on the drive home, watch the game." you laughed quietly, knowing the blondes tendencies far too well as she huffed and turned back to speak with alessia.

arsenal had a two goal lead but you knew even if there was only twenty minutes left that anything could happen, which is why you paid little attention to your girlfriends stories.

though you could tell she was getting into them given the way her hands darted about as she spoke making you smile fondly as alessia and now kyra hung off the older girls every word, also now clearly invested into her tales.

"leah!" you whined shoving her shoulder as your girlfriend pinched your inner thigh, having tapped you a few times and getting no response. "i called your name nicely first! space cadet." her hand reached up to poke at your cheek as you pushed it away and sat back properly.

"you know the girl from the bakery we like yeah? the one who always slips us extra pastries when the boss isn't in, olivia? olive? i think its olivia." leah again tried to draw you in as you shook your head.

"you're a terrible gossip williamson, watch the girls! and you, stop encouraging her less!" you warned the grinning blonde beside you who shrugged, kyras head popping over her shoulder matching her eagerness. "why? she's a great story teller!" the australian defended as leah hit your knee with a happy smirk and you rolled your eyes.

"stop yapping and support your teammates! all three of you." you warned a little more sternly, the younger girls beside you deflating somewhat as leah rolled her eyes but turned around to face the pitch, sipping at her shake.

but once the beverage was finished it failed to serve as a distraction, leah growing restless and leaning over to tap alessia's knee and you sighed as within seconds both her and kyra were once more hanging off your girlfriends every syllable.

"-the florist!" you only caught the last of your girlfriends sentence, drawn into the conversation by the loud gasps of shock from the younger girls beside you and even frida who leah seemed to have sucked in now too.

"wait what?" you questioned with a frown, clearly having missed the build up as you watched manu make a diving save and breathed a sigh of relief.

"well well well. look who wants in on the gossip train!" leah smirked as you rolled your eyes and shook your head, ignoring her and instead turning back to the game. "whatever." you rolled your eyes stubbornly, focusing on the pitch again but feeling leahs eyes bore up into you.

"fine! you've twisted my arm, i'll tell you." leah tapped your thigh to gain your attention back as you couldn't help but be amused by her obvious enthusiasm. "back to my original question, you know the florist-" leah began tracking backward as you nodded.

"the one near the bakery we like, i do. what about him?" you frowned as leah huffed. "bubba theres layers to this story, don't interrupt!" the blonde warned sternly wagging a finger at you as you shoved alessia who giggled.

"well the florist. so he's married yeah? he has that photo of his wife and kid on the counter, and he always has that gold wedding band on. i remember because its got his wives initials carved into it which is quite cute, or maybe its their kids initials?" leah frowned, pausing as you again nodded though this time wordlessly.

"anyway not important. well i went in to see him on tuesday, remember i got you that huge bouquet and brought you breakfast in bed and then we had second bre-" you hurried to cover her mouth as the tips of your ears flushed red.

"leah what we do in the bedroom is private!" you hissed in warning for the words which you'd stopped before they fell. "we already heard about it when she told us the story." kyra piped up cheekily as you groaned and removed your hand, shrinking a little in embarrassment.

"anyway. well i went in on tuesday and no wedding band, no picture." leah continued on completely ignoring your reaction, pulling your hand away and kissing your knuckles sweetly before letting go.

"which is weird right? but then i also went to the bakery because as we both know their bread is the very best bread for a ham sandwich. so i went in to get a loaf and i noticed there was a different woman serving, not olivia or olive whatever her name is who usually always works on tuesdays." leahs eyes narrowed as you hummed to show you were listening.

"so i subtly asked, more so joked really, about where she was. turns out she's on maternity leave? i didn't even notice she was pregnant but apparently she's due in a few weeks!" leah scoffed in disbelief as you frowned, also not having picked up on that throughout the many months you and leah had frequented the bakery.

"so while i was waiting for the bread, and i won't lie babe i did get a croissant and finish it before i got home so you wouldn't know." leah smiled apologetically as you shoved her head with a playful roll of your eyes.

"but this is the scandal of it all. so i overheard one of the bakers on the phone and it turns out that-" leah was cut off as cheers errupted around meadow park, the final whistle blowing signalling the game was over and arsenal had indeed reigned victorious.

you waited patiently for leah to finish, watching as she placed her palms on your knees and used them to help her push up to her feet before holding out her hands to help you up.

"turns out that..." you trailed off eagerly with wide eyes as the rest of the girls began to jog out onto the pitch to congratulate everyone and greet the fans.

"i'll tell you later. come on gorgeous!" leah kissed your cheek and wandered off after lia as your jaw dropped. "what happened?" you grabbed alessia with wide eyes who shrugged. "its leahs story! i'll probably miss details and tell it wrong." the blonde tugged her hands away and followed after kyra as you groaned.

"leah!" you huffed in annoyance, hurrying after her and hating how much she'd peaked your curiousity.

"leah you can't leave it there, finish the story!" you whined catching up to her as lia just smiled in amusement not even needing to know the context as your girlfriend just tutted and slung an arm over your shoulder, kissing your cheek again with a grin.

"nah we can gossip all you want on the drive home, right baby?"

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #arsenal wfc

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undercoverpena · 1 year

Text

had to see you

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

summary: And then, he says, “It’s nice.” “You can tell me if it isn’t, I promise I won’t be offended—it’s not as though I cook often.” “It is nice,” he repeats, giving you a look which tells you to stop worrying as if you have any control over your feelings.

an: eventual smut. angst with happy ending. will-they-won't-they, but they do. smut. he loves you 100%. word count: 5.7k || there’s a part two to this here

simon ghost riley masterlist

You love the rain.

Not so much when you’re away. When you’re strapped up, weighed down by all your gear. The additional weight of being wet makes for an uncomfortable experience, with hair clinging to foreheads and mud sticking to your skin. It also forces things to rub more, chaff. Your skin is often raw from where the buckles and belts sit.

But, at home, it’s refreshing.

It’s why you never hated your nickname, the one given to you in jest—to remind you that you are a female, soft, emotional. Only for it to grow more fitting. Because Rain comes from above, sharp, falling where needed—catching people by surprise, and leaving traces behind, but never enough to know where you’ll land next.

Rain is also one word. One syllable. Short, sharp and easy.

It can be spat, it can be sweetly said and affectionately called.

On good days, it reminds you of long car rides, staring out of windows at passing traffic as you watch beads of its travel down—racing. On bad days, it reminds you of more unpleasant memories, ones born in moments you’d sooner forget, an emptiness in your chest from betrayal, loss and bad choices.

At home, rain itself keeps you rooted. The scent, for one, not allowing your mind to whisk you off too old memories of war and enemy territories. The sound, for another, hits your windows and dulls the silence. All three senses are busied by it. It all blends perfectly together with the crackling of your candles and the low-light vibe you have going off in your flat.

Plus, there’s nothing more British than bad weather.

Each time you’re able to come home, you hope it’s raining. Landing back, greeted with cold and horrid rain. Preferably the kind which looks misty through windows and soaks you in seconds when you step into it. The kind which makes it hard to know which speed to put your car wipers on, and socks get drenched as puddles form quicker than people can account for.

You didn’t care that you looked like a drowned rat when you unlocked your flat door. Or that your wet clothes were difficult to remove as steam filled your bathroom because you were always going to have a shower. A routine—a tradition of sorts.

Hands desperate to wash the months away, let your expensive soaps and scents soak into neglected skin and smother old scars and newly gained ones. Plus, the water was hotter at home, almost scolding your skin as you stood under it, letting each droplet massage a part of your neck and upper back as your living room music drifted through the cracked door.

You dress before you really prune, sliding on silk PJs—the ones which you buy as a treat and wear once, maybe twice a year. Your skin sighs in relief, thankful to forget sand, bullets and bruises, the same as your mind. Busying your hands with preparing a lavish dinner, a large dish too ridiculous for one person—but again, you’d missed it. Home.

The scent of gravy, potatoes and meat.

When asked, you’d been quiet about your plans with the others. Them only having a slight idea of which city you call home. It’s not that you didn’t want to see them—not even sure you’d be able to fall asleep without Soap’s snores, Ghost’s huffs and Gaz’s odd bedtime stories. But, you’d gained new nightmares on the last job—ones which you needed to make peace with before they stole another fraction of your soul.

That’s what it did, eventually. Even to the best of them.

Bad choices, untested intel and wrong moves left little marks before they claimed a piece of innocence, kindness and happiness.

It’s a little different with the 141. Without realising it, you’re sure you all help smother each other's struggles away. But it’s only temporary. You know it, you can feel it in the muscles in your back and in the knots in your stomach. So, if you saw them now when you needed to heal—if you relied on them—you’d go back weaker than when you left. And they needed you; you needed them. A team where you could only trust one another—having been betrayed so often, you were all each other had.

It’s why you were taken back by a firm knock.

Short. Deliberate.

Pausing, allowing whoever they were to realise their mistake. Even if the sound didn’t appear as though they’d chosen the wrong flat or someone who was cherry-knocking. It was purposeful, direct, and your hands quickly dried on the kitchen towel as your feet crossed the tiles and laminate to your front door.

When you’d left, you’d asked a friend to check in on the flat—fix the peephole. Something having forced it to get stuck, leaving you blind to whoever was on the other side. Your friend is good, kind, and sweet but forgetful. Something which also reminds you of home as you snort, undoing the chain, and unlocking the door, half expecting them.

Only to see him.

“Ghost?”

He has a hood up, and a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face.

His eyes fall over you, taking you in centimetre by centimetre, digging into you as if he’d not expected to see you.

You find it just as odd to see the skin around his eyes not tainted in grey or black and that his frame is still as ridiculously large, even in plain clothes, as he holds a duffel bag in his hand.

Suddenly aware of the thin layer covering your body from him. Especially as his eyes drop from your face to the silk shirt with its three buttons undone and then to your legs, where silk shorts did their best but were futile in hiding thighs, knees or legs from him.

“You lettin’ me in?”

Instinctively, you move, not even questioning it.

Even if he didn’t say it like an order, he was still your lieutenant. Even on home ground, you slipped into your sergeant role too quickly. Watching him pass you, turning to face the direction he moves in before pressing your back against the inside of your door. Fingers sliding to the side of you, turning the lock, the sound filling the small space as you watch him stop at your key hook, slowly sliding his feet from his boots—finding him wearing thick, bobbly socks.

He turns to face you, eyes washing over you again as his hood remains up as he undoes the scarf. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen his face a handful of times, each time, it still renders you silent, if only for a second.

Clearing your throat, you rub the back of your neck. “I don’t mean this to come out as rude, but why are you—“

“Someone broke into my place.”

You move, almost too quickly, from the door. Your hand brushing his shoulder, wanting—needing—to comfort him, soothe him like you would a friend. Before you remembered who this was.

Almost surprised he doesn’t flinch. Even if he does shoot you a surprised look before you wrench your hand back.

“S-sorry. Habit.” He frowns, and you wish the floor would swallow you whole. “Not with y—when I’m home, I’m… well, I—did they take anything?”

“Not sure.”

Right. “Do you need somewhere to stay?”

He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick away, the tell-tale signs of him processing and thinking. You’ve seen him do it often, especially when Price is talking and when he reads files. As if he’s choosing where to store it in the filing cabinet, he calls his brain.

“Please,” he says, the word almost coming out as a whisper.

As if it’s so rarely ever said.

You’re unsure what to say, even if there’s so much swirling around your brain. So many questions you want to pepper him with, but he’s not Soap, who’ll answer them all or Gaz, who’ll have already told you everything.

He’s Ghost.

Silent. Quiet, Ghost.

Your oven beeps, his head turning to the sound.

Sighing, you rub your arms, suddenly aware of how cold your hallway feels, as you cover your chest with your elbows. “You hungry?”

Silence.

A beat or two blossoming, your eyes unable to move from his face, even if you know you should, before he licks his lips, saying, “Starving.”

You smile, “Good. It's not a lot, just some chicken, potatoes… a bit of veg. Nothing huge. And, not quite a typical Sunday roast, but enough to ease me back in.”

He doesn’t laugh, not that you expect him to.

“Bathroom is there, to your right. If you need it,” you say quickly, almost stepping past him to answer your beeping oven. “I just need to dish up, and… yeah.”

You expect to feel calmer by the time he’s back. Especially with your dressing gown on, loosely knotted at your waist, covering more of you from him.

But you’re more nervous.

Doubting the food you’ve plated, the scent of the candles, whether the low lights make it romantic and whether you should turn up the acoustic songs playing or let the rain be the soundtrack of the evening. Suddenly aware of how fucking odd this is.

Him being here.

And yet, not that odd at all.

“Hope it’s okay…” you mumble nervously as you place the plate down.

He looks like he belongs at your table, even if your table is small and usually for one-person. He’d helped, in as much of a way as a stranger can in someone’s home, grabbing glasses from cupboards you direct him to, making squash for you and water for him.

His hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie as he waited for further instruction, catching sight of the hood still being up, having noticed he’d swapped jeans for dark joggers before you told him to sit.

“There’s more gravy… just wasn’t sure how you liked it,” you add.

Ghost doesn’t answer, not even as you slide into the chair opposite. Your hands have a slight tremble to them as you pick up your cutlery, trying not to watch him take a bite—suddenly feeling like a contestant on a judging show.

And then, he says, “It’s nice.”

“You can tell me if it isn’t, I promise I won’t be offended—it’s not as though I cook often.”

“It is nice,” he repeats, giving you a look which tells you to stop worrying as if you have any control over your feelings.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the occasional sound of a fork grazing the plate and the knife slicing through food. It’s almost normal—as though this happens regularly.

“Your place is nice, too,” he mumbles.

Lifting your head, you find he’s looking at you already. “You don’t have to lie, Simon. You can still stay even if you think my decor is odd.”

His eyes widen a fraction before it vanishes like it never existed. A brief moment of you wondering why, until you realise the slip—the way you used his name and not his alias. Making it feel personal. More so than the two of your knees occasionally butting under the table.

“It’s not what I expected.”

“You’ve thought about my place?”

Ghost says nothing, hovering his fork over his dinner as he keeps his eyes down.

You smile if only to yourself, pushing some meat and vegetables onto your fork, continuing—wondering if he’s hoping you would. That silence would settle over the two of you, the storm outside being enough background noise to keep it from being awkward.

“I have to ask,” you say suddenly, keeping your gaze down, trying to still your pulse as you manoeuvre food around the sauce. “Why me? I mean… I don’t mind you being here, but I thought, well, I assumed you’d pick Soap—if you needed a place to stay.”

You try not to look, even when you hear a faint snort, seeing his plate—empty, only traces of broccoli stalks remaining—slide closer as the chair creaks in his movement.

“You were closer.”

Oh.

Your stomach drops, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking there could be any other reason.

Almost wanting to kick yourself for allowing yourself to consider another option, one which you’ve been stuffing down for weeks, months…

It isn’t as though you were meant to fall for him. The man who originally kept his face a higher guarded secret than his own name. But, it stemmed naturally and out of nowhere. He made you laugh as you moved into an enemy building—nerves humming in your bones. He made it worse when he flung himself in front of you before a car exploded, gripping you tightly against him, not letting go for minutes later before his hand cupped your cheek, mouthing words you couldn’t hear as ears rang and rang.

Smiling, you nod, not sure what else to say as you take his plate and yours, turning your back to him as you hear him clear his throat.

“I had to see if you were okay.”

You don’t place the plates down, not immediately.

Eyes trying to peer at him through the corner of your vision, slowly lowering the porcelain to the counter—too afraid to break the moment with a single sound, even as your heart hammered in your ears, in your chest, and throat.

He had said it so softly, you have to wonder how long it’s been churning on his tongue.

Slowly turning, you face him, finding his eyes already on you with an awkwardness in his shoulders as he looks up at you.

“Well, I’m fine.”

“Had to be sure.”

You smile, pulling your dressing gown around you tighter. “Well, that’s because you’re a good lieutenant.”

His brows knit, lips spreading into a thin light before you notice the subtle shift in his nostrils as though he’s sighed before Ghost nods with his usual professionalism. That’s when your stomach drops, fluttering ridiculously near your feet as you feel you’ve made a mistake.

“Tea?” you ask.

Ghost’s face shifts and you’re almost sure there’s a faint smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry, I know how you like it,” you add, pulling open a cupboard as you retrieve two mugs and flick the kettle on. “I’ve heard you berate Soap for his piss-poor tea skills.”

You make him snort.

And it does nothing to stifle the fluttering.

If anything, it adds to it.

Shit.

Even though it’ll be his bed for the night, Ghost refuses to sit on the sofa and doesn’t allow you to sit in the armchair. Practically insisting you sit how you would if he wasn’t here. Even if you’re worried he won’t be comfortable, the ridiculous chair was bought as a filler—an accessory, rather than something people actually used.

“Fine,” you mumbled, grabbing your blanket and curling up across both seats as he clutched the mug in his hand.

You put something crap on the TV, the volume low—just in case he doesn’t feel like talking. Your eyes flick to it occasionally, half-listening as you softly wiggle your toes under the blanket—needing something to focus on. Because you couldn’t keep looking at him.

Not with how your mind was running away from you, imagining ifs and buts and everything else in between.

He fits here. Your home rarely feels warm and comforting, but with his presence, it does. As though your place has always wanted to be enjoyed by two people, not one person who rarely ever visited it.

It doesn’t feel weird, even if it should. It makes you feel unsteady, and dizzy. Suddenly unable to stop focusing on the fact there’s a six-foot-something amount of feelings in your chest, twisting and tightening, trying to unlock everything you stuffed down.

That same instinct and set of emotions which made you try to rip yourself from Soap’s grip when Ghost had entered a blazing building just for a stupid USB; how you’d been so angry, feral—as Soap called it—not able to think, how it had filled you, consuming you. How you’d even told Price you needed benching, unable to even look at your lieutenant, never mind be in the same room.

He eventually cornered you on the base, pushing you, mixing between berating and taunting you until you slammed your small fist into his shoulder as you called him an idiot, a fucking cunt, a liability, a heartless cunt. How your tiny fist hammered into him with each array of insults until he grasped it tenderly, staring at you until tears bubbled in your eyes.

You cannot die.

Why?

But, he had to know. His eyes followed a single tear down your cheek as he released your wrist, allowing you to walk away from him and begin the process of stuffing everything down again.

Then you’d been shot. Through and through. Fire, gasp and fucking pain, your mind rendered uselessly, but he was still the person you called for. Not Soap, who was closer, not Gaz, who could actually stitch you. But Ghost.

Ghost who came in a flash, telling you what you needed to hear—ordering you to do things like look at him, gripping his arm.

“What?”

Blinking, you didn’t even realise you’d been looking at him. Your mind blanking excuses tumbling from your grasp as you offer the quickest smile and a ‘nothing’.

You forget how good he is at reading people.

Especially you. Almost sure you make it easy for him, even if everyone else says they struggle.

Ghost always knows, as though he’s in your head, digging his way through each time he stares at you. You wonder how much you let him in, whether he finds it easy before you want him in there—in your mind, in your heart.

Now, he’s giving you a stern look, one which makes the truth rattle in your chest and snakes up your throat.

Sighing, you shake your head. “Fine, I was thinking about how weirdly normal it is that you’re here. That it doesn’t feel weird, alright? That was it.”

Anyone else, you’d think they’d smirk.

But with him, it’s the slightest movement of his lip which tells you he has heard you.

Ghost takes a sip, purposefully holding your gaze as he does so before filling the silence with, “You thought about it, then? Me being here.”

“Of course I have,” you answer too quickly, wanting to kick yourself as the words hit the air, his brows raising as he sips his tea. “Not… Not like that.”

“How then?”

Shit. Swallowing, you sigh, trying to buy yourself time. Shit, bollocks, shit.

“Should tell you, lying to your lieutenant isn’t smart.”

You give him a sharp look of your own, and he snorts—actually snorts. Your eyes are all set to roll until he says your name.

Your real name.

Not your nickname. Not sergeant or soldier.

“Fine. I’ve thought about it.”

“It?”

You groan, pulling the blanket up further—not that it’ll hide the obvious warming of your cheeks or embarrassment. You’re sure that’s painted across the room, likely even doing a jig at your expense.

“Us. You, me. In a bed,” you mumble. “Happy?”

Wanting to hide your face, almost about to when the sound of his mug meeting your coaster makes you freeze. Your armchair—the one his frame has somehow fit into comfortably—groans as he moves, and you let yourself see him from the corner of your eye. His forearms leaning on his knees, his hand sliding his hood down as he watches you.

He’s silent.

So silent it almost kills you. The adverts in the background do nothing to stop it; the rain, now hammering against the windows, was not stifling it.

Slowly breathing as you place your mug down, standing before you can even consider the options. “I didn’t realise how late it is,” you say, forcing a yawn. “I should… go to bed. Let you make your bed.”

You fold the blanket, throwing it over the arm as you try to shrug, and play it off, but he’s quicker at recognising you—he knows you better than that. His hand comes to touch your wrist, like he did months ago, eyes scanning yours.

For what you’re not sure.

Not wanting to get your hopes up. Not wanting to lose yourself in dreams and imagination.

So, you smile. As sweetly and as believable as you can as you point to the coffee table chest. “Blankets, pillows, the lot are in there,” you say, almost breathlessly, as he releases you. “Have a nice sleep, Gh—Simon.”

He swallows, his face remains unreadable as he chokes out, “You too.”

But you’re already moving, desperately seeking your room—throwing the door open and shutting it as you place your back against it. She’s closing, chest hammering so hard you’re sure it’s trying to escape.

Go back.

Go back to him.

Your eyes slowly open, catching sight of yourself in the mirror as the street lamps partially light your room.

He came to check on you. You.

Rolling your neck, your fingers flex at your side, twisting your wrists, wanting to shake it all from you. Trying, desperately to rid yourself of the tension and adrenaline. Almost doing so until you hear the floorboards outside your door creak.

It doubles your heart rate as a lump forms in your throat, suffocating you. You don’t want to give in, but wish to all at once. Your hand cupping your mouth, trying to hide the extra breaths the sound has forced you to make. Needing him. Wanting his calloused fingers to leave marks over your skin, his stubble to slice against your cheeks as his lips capture your breath, words and soul.

It’s that which makes you shift from the door. Not sure what you’re expecting, what you’re going to see, as your hand twists the doorknob, coming face to face with him all over again.

His hoodie is gone.

Expression torn—that same awkwardness in his shoulders.

Your hallway light touches his unreadable expression, highlighting all the lines and shading of his tattoo that stand out against his skin.

“Tell me to go back to your living room.”

Inhaling sharply, your hand drops from your mouth and falls limply to your side.

You are not thinking, thoughts all scattered, scrambled. Not even sure you can find words to tell him you want anything but. That you want him here, right in front of you; you want him to be rough and also kind, you want him to kiss you like he’ll never have the chance to again.

As though reading you, he moves closer, not even touching you, but your body yearns for him, muscles tensing and spasming at the endless thoughts of what could be—what he could do, what you already know he’d be good at. Suddenly wanting to rid yourself of your dressing gown, of your PJs, of the thin lace between your thighs you’ve already ruined.

“Words, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Your legs almost give way, a smile wanting to bloom and spread across your lips, up your cheeks until it's radiating from you.

“Tell me. Or I’ll kiss you.”

Speechless, your lips part.

Yes. Please, yes.

Not even sure you are even breathing as you imagine his hands on you, his mouth against yours, against your neck, descending down and down—

His hand cups your cheek, pulling your eyes to his as he examines you. He studies you like he’s capturing every fucking inch of you: the curve of your cheeks, the position of your brows, the way your lips are waiting for him. The clear crisis you’re going through is rendered and broken at the mere thought of this becoming a reality.

“Simon…” you manage to whisper.

Hoping it's enough. Needing it to be enough.

He blinks once more before he lowers his head, his lips planting against yours and you’re sure you explode. Your heart furiously beating, ears buzzing and burning all at once.

Barely focusing on the way his arm snakes around you as your mouth moves to meet each one of his movements. His lips are soft, even if his tongue is rough; his grip tight, purposeful—desperate, even if yours are gentle, nervous. The pads of your fingers slide past the healed scar on his cheek, moving into his hair, his groan vibrating against your lips.

Gh—Simon is almost lifting you, moving you back as his foot kicks your bedroom door shut behind him, blocking out the light from the hallway. Only the streetlights dance shadows across your room as kisses grow messier, fingers brushing over skin as he hooks a finger in the waistband of your shorts, then sliding, freeing you, until you’re stepping out of them. Your robe next, falling with a thud as your hands slide under his t-shirt, feeling taut, hard muscle and silver scars which paint stories as your legs find your bed.

He smells different than usual.

Less sweat and fireworks, and more some combination of Ghost meeting sandalwood and amber as the two of you bend down onto your bed, the frame hissing at the weight and movement—not even aware of what’ll be expected to support soon enough.

“Shit, woman. Y’know how beautiful you are?”

His teeth nipping, sucking, leaving an answer to your prayer before you feel him unbuttoning your top, all slow and gentle, as if undoing a present he’s waited desperately for.

“Rip it,” you moan, his teeth grazing over the space between your breasts before he lifts up.

His eyes burn into yours, the smallest evidence of a smirk on his mouth as he slowly shakes his head. “I’ve waited too fuckin’ long to get here, I’m takin’ my damn time.”

If you weren’t already soaked for him, that did it.

All slick, swollen and hungry for him. Not sure if it’ll even take much, not with how precise you can imagine him being—how fucking thick his fingers are, how he’s staring at you like he wants to break you in all the ways he can before sunrise.

And you want it. Desperate for it. So much so that just the fan of his warm breath against your exposed nipples makes you rub your thighs together, needing friction—something he can tell, he must do.

“Wait.”

It’s sharp, authoritative, and he’s going to be the death of you.

Your body is so tense, you’re sure it’ll snap if you keep any more still as he undoes the last button and exposes your skin to the cool air and his breath. So focused on his eyes, you’ve forgotten all about his hand until you feel lace dig into your waist, tightening and tightening—snap.

And he smirks.

The devious bastard smirks.

Your lips part to make a remark—one you’re not even wholeheartedly sure will come out right—but it dies when he touches you, one finger, one thick calloused finger sliding between your thighs, brushing where you need him.

“Fuck…”

“Part them, sweetheart.”

And you do.

You do it like he’s said open-fucking-sésame. Two fingers sliding against you, diving between your folds. It’s intense, teasing and everything all at once. It’s making you burn and shiver, sweat building on your brow as you pant and whimper. His name falls freely, almost chanting it, like a song you’re the only one who can sing it. He captures what he can, tasting each syllable you say of his name until you’re tightening and clenching, and he whispers in your ear how good you are, how perfect you are, and you meet your orgasm with blinding lights and arched back.

The sight of him licking your want from his fingers brings you back, his mouth crashing against yours as you pull him down, knee bent against his hip as his hand comes to rest on your hip—the one you hope he’s bruising. Wanting, wishing for him to leave literal fingerprints as your hand slides between the two of you.

You knew before tonight Simon Riley would be big.

Almost too big.

The weight of him against your palm is something else, the thickness of his cock in between your fingers as you make him hiss, thumb swiping over the head as he groans.

He mixes kissing and nipping at your neck depending on what your hand does, the groans of your name making you desperate—needing him inside you, suddenly empty and desperate all over again, but not for his fingers.

You want him so deep in you you’ll forever feel empty without him. You want to feel every inch of him, want to rock against his hips as you press half-moons into his skin as nails dig into him.

The ache growing, worsening as his tongue draws a line from your neck to your earlobe, his fist clenching around your bed sheets at your side.

“Fuck… stop. Stop,” he groans, a hand smothering yours, halting you as he stares at you before pressing his forehead against yours.

Letting him go, touching his cheek—his eyes full of lust, searing into you.

“I want you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, his lips sliding up into a half-smirk—a Simon special. “I’ll go slow.”

“I hope you fucking don’t.”

His eyes harden. “I’m going slow. I’ll ruin you later,” he whispers darkly, before capturing your lips, a hand gripping the back of your thigh—shifting it just over his hip.

You're set to argue, and comment you can handle it until you feel him lineup, the head of his cock pushing against your folds.

You gasp as his hips move forward, slowly pushing himself in, your nails digging into his shoulder, into his waist as shivers run down your spine. The stretch being both too much and everything all at once, your toes curling, him slowly burying his cock all the way in as his fingers stroke your jaw.

“So fu—tight. Fuckin'-shit, sweetheart.”

“Simon…”

Your hips roll, moaning at the way it feels, having never felt so full. Never felt so stretched.

He’s slow, as he has been since he stepped over the threshold. His determination to take things slow, to take his time, not lessening now that he’s deep inside of you.

You’re sure you’ve left an array of welts and half-moon marks into his shoulders as he begins to roll his hips, his thrusts purposeful, desperately seeking that spot he already knows.

“Eyes on me,” he says, thumb against your jaw as your eyes lashes beg to flutter, but land on him all the same. “There’s my girl.”

It’s sinful the moan you let escape at his praise, your legs almost jelly as he steals it with a kiss—as though to taste it. Your mouth grasping for him when he pulls his head back, gripping your hip, helping you both to find a steady pace.

He does ruin you.

Not the first time, the second, but on the third.

Legs so sore, boneless and aching you can barely walk without his aid to the bathroom.

You’re not surprised he places you down on the side of the bath, taking a cloth you point him to as he cleans between your thighs as your hisses feel the space. You catch sight of yourself, an array of colours developing across your neck, collarbone and waist—just like you wanted.

A painting in colours of his own design.

You expect awkwardness once you shuffle back, giving him a moment. Finding underwear, sliding it over shaky legs before surrendering the idea of PJs as you slid between your duvet and sheets. When he returns, you brace for regret—for words you wish he’d swallow, face hidden in the scarf or behind a mask, but he’s in boxers and shuts your door with care.

Simon crosses the room, lifting the duvet as he slides in next to you, reaching out, tugging your back to his chest as he places a single kiss on the space below your earlobe.

You want to tell him everything. That you like him, could even love him by now. That you look for him too, that you worry, that you care. You'd tell him that he has pierced your heart, and you welcome the sting, that you'd be there, whenever he needed it. Even with knowing he likes space and distance and everything else in between.

"Stop thinkin' so loud," he grumbles against your skin.

Smiling, you fix your eyes across the darkness, finding the outline of your dresser as his hand finds your hip. Whether to soothe you or silence you, it makes your hands clammy.

Unsure if he knows that someone loves him. Someone wants him alive, wants him uninjured.

“I have feelings for you…” you whisper, fixing your eyes on your dresser as you swallow. “In case it wasn’t obvious.”

He doesn’t tense, doesn’t move.

Blinking, you try to trace the shapes of your handles, keeping your mind busy, the silence building and building.

"Say that again." You turn your head, meeting his stare, watching as he raises his knuckles before he traces your cheekbone. "Please."

His touch is so gentle, so soft that it makes your heart swell—your face relaxing as you repeat it again. "I have feelings for you.

"I care about you and...I like you alive, Simon."

You don't expect a reply, a declaration of his own. The fact he hasn't moved and hasn't pulled his knuckles from stroking your cheek, is enough of a declaration. Your lips turn, meeting them, pressing the softest kiss to them as if saying I know, I don't need to hear it. I know.

Letting your eyes ensure the message lands as you hold his gaze, ever-so-slightly nodding.

“I texted him. Johnny," he says. His fingers spread, cupping your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek. “But, I had to see you. Had to be sure.”

Your eyes lower briefly, feeling your heart almost stammer at his words. “Because I’m your sergeant or because I’m your girl.”

You’re my girl. Mine. Fuck, you’re mine. Mine. All mine. You hear me, sweetheart?

His thumb pauses against your cheek, likely remembering the same words he chanted over and over as he fucked you senseless. His eyes narrow ever so slightly as his lips twitch, and yours try not to smile.

“The latter.”

You nod. Feeling your body flush with warmth, turning your head back away from him, grinning as he pulls you flush against him.

Your heart thumping mine, mine, mine. Hearing him get comfortable against the pillow, a soft sigh blowing past his lips and kissing your skin.

“You make shit tea, though.”

read part two

a huge thank you to @ghostaholics for this absolutely gorgeous graphic. I can’t believe how much it encapsulates the entire piece and is just so me, and so pretty. thank you so much, I appreciate it so much 💕!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost riley #cod ghost x reader smut #simon ghost riley x reader smut #simon ghost riley x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x you #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost angst #cod ghost smut #ghost smut

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squirmhoney · 5 months

Text

ALL ALONE AT CHRISTMAS

Requested by @queenofthekeep ♡ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader Warning: Smut. incest. Angst. Arguing. 18+ MDNI A/N:we’ve had a very late start to Christmas today. So even though I know a lot of you won’t see this, I thought I’d grace your Christmas Day with this soft smut❤️ Merry Christmas guys 🎄

“One job,” you shouted, throwing the tickets onto the counter. “It was the one thing I let you do and you fucked it.”

All you wanted was to tear your hair out in frustration, not knowing who you should be angry with, Aegon for booking the wrong tickets or yourself for thinking that he could be given that much responsibility.

Aegon’s lips opened, unable to get a syllable out before you were screaming at him again.

“Don’t,” you told him, putting your hand out. “I’m stuck here for Christmas because you booked the wrong flight.”

“We,” Aegon stated, standing up from his seat. He made his way over to you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “I’m here as well.”

You pushed his hands away, “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Aegon’s face dropped at this, a frown covering his face as he retreated away from you. He was at an end with you, back to square one like he had been months ago. All the phone calls, messages and constant reassurance on his end felt like it was for nothing. Had he really spent months patching things up between him and you, just for him to fuck it up over booking the wrong flights.

Yes, he had booked the wrong flights on purpose. But this isn’t how he planned things turning out, you weren’t supposed to get this upset. Well, at least not in his head.

Things couldn’t get any worse, until they did.

Christmas should be spent with your family, not just with your older brother. Especially not one like Aegon. To add to your Christmas nightmare, the power had cut out in Aegon’s apartment, leaving you both curled up on the couch wrapped under an array of blankets trying desperately to keep warm.

“You can get a bit closer,” Aegon said from the other end of the couch.

You were shivering, trying to hide your chattering teeth by biting down on your t-shirt. Even with how cold you felt, goosebumps covering your skin, you didn’t want to let him know that.

“Seriously, you’re freezing over there.”

In the candle light Aegon saw your eyes look up at him, narrowing your eyes at him with a coldness he had only seen once before.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“This distance between us, not just physically but in every way shape and form,” he snapped out, throwing his head back.

“It’s good,” you paused for a second, drawing your legs further in. “To have space.”

You could feel him rolling his eyes even if you couldn’t see it.

“Space is good.” You squeezed your knees to your chest. “It’s healthy.”

“Here we go again.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“I thought we were over it. I’ve apologised, I’ve kept my distance, I’ve phoned and texted at the right times. What else can I do?”

“You kissed me,” you shouted at him, a croak in the back of your throat. Realising the sound of your own voice, you looked around the darkness as if someone could hear you. “And you can’t do that.”

“If I remember correctly, you kissed me back.”

“You’re delusional.”

He huffed and when he spoke again you could hear the tears lodged in his airways, begging to spill. “Fuck you.” It was shaky, full of pain that you both shared.

“I’m your sister, Aegon. Can’t you see how fucked up it is?”

“You don’t think I know.” He stood up, taking a step away from you. “I hate myself for feeling this way but I can’t help it.”

“It’s sick,” as soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. But maybe it’s what he needed to hear, what you both needed to hear.

“You act so fucking high and mighty,” he stormed around the room, in the darkness where he wasn’t visible to you. “Like you weren’t a part of this. Like you don’t feel the way I feel.”

“I don’t-”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Christmas wasn’t meant to be spent in silence but for the most part it had been.

Both you and Aegon had put on glowing smiles for your family when you called, making up lies about how you both were enjoying yourselves. In reality you had been looking at the earliest flight you could catch to get yourself out of there but there weren’t any for a few more days.

Eventually your phone died and the sun went down, meaning all you could do was stare up into the darkness as you curled up on the couch. You were still cold, the layers of blankets not doing much to help. You were glad for the friendly neighbour that dropped off an array of candles, the apartment being less depressing than it had been.

In the silence of it all you could only think about Aegon as you were sure he was thinking about you. He had been hauled up in his room, giving you the silent treatment. The only time you had really seen him he was puffy eyed and pale in the face, barely able to look at you.

You hated him for it. The way your stomach dropped at the sight of him, so distraught and how your eyes could barely look up from your knees to meet his face. With every second that passed you felt your chest tightening more, the silent tears unable to alleviate the weight that was holding you down.

You weren’t sure of the time when you next saw Aegon. Maybe minutes had passed since the sun had set, maybe even hours. But for some reason you felt stuck in the passage of time, as if you didn’t do something, you’d never leave that apartment. Maybe that was just an excuse.

Nothing really mattered to you when Aegon opened his bedroom door, finding you standing on the other side. You stood there contemplating for a while on what to do or what you were going to say. All you managed to think of was…

“I was cold,” your voice was quiet, barely audible. You looked up at him, that tight feeling in your chest snapped and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your tears at bay.

He was so close you could feel the heavy breaths he was taking, his chest almost touching yours. You couldn’t help but place your hand against his bare skin, wanting to ease the pain and sadness you were both feeling.

When his hands cupped your cheeks, you accepted it. The pads of his thumb wiping at your wet skin, saying the things that you knew he was clearly too scared to say. But his lips said much more when they reached down to yours, hovering a centimetre away from you.

It was a brush of lips when you closed the distance, delicate and fearful of one another’s rejection. You sobbed into his lips after a second, hands wrapping around his neck as you latched yourself onto him.

That feeling in your chest finally eased when he pulled you into his room, wrapping an arm around your waist. Your bodies moved on instinct, sinking into each other as you clumsily travelled over to his bed. When your foot stumbled on something, Aegon was quick to stop you from falling, snatching you up and throwing you onto his bed.

You didn’t even know if it was you or him stripping you of your clothes, all you knew was that you were both desperate, tearing them from your body. Before you knew it you were chest to chest, bare against each other and completely vulnerable. His hands roamed your sides, not taking any time as he grabbed at the flesh, almost violently as if he was trying to bruise your skin, leaving his mark for everyone to see.

“Aegon,” it slipped out in a moan when he grinded his hips into yours, his arousal clear to feel through his boxers. Your legs opened wider, wrapping around his waist to rub yourself up at him. “Please.”

There was a wetness that had pooled between your thighs, one that Aegon could probably feel through his boxers. You were sure of it when he pressed himself flush against you, his stiff cock nudging at you as much as it could.

You were breathless when his lips finally retreated from yours, only to latch onto your neck, sucking at the skin of your throat. You weren’t sure how you’d explain the marks he was surely leaving, purple and pink, but that was the last thing you wanted to think of when his tongue lazily trailed over your skin.

You didn’t realise how much he moved till you felt his hand press against you, dragging his fingers around your soaked cunt. You gasped out, throwing your head back at the sensation as his fingers began to play with you. The swirling in your stomach was unfamiliar to you but it only grew with each drag of his fingers against you. He was barely doing anything but you were a mess, hands clawing at the sheets beneath you.

When he finally slipped a finger in, you shuddered, only for him to push a second finger in with complete ease. Your pussy sucked him in with each thrust and the moan that fell from your lips made him smile against your skin.

Was this what you had been depriving yourself of? Months of battling with unfamiliar feelings, only for you to cave just like this. Had it all been for nothing.

“Aegon, it’s-” you were babbling, unable to finish your words as you let out a harsh breath.

Your walls squeezed him when you came, back arching off the bed as you felt yourself squirting onto his abdomen. All your thighs wanted to do was close, wriggling around as you tried to escape his touch out of pure embarrassment. But he wasn’t letting you go, grip tightening around you as he yanked you further down onto the bed.

In the candle lit room, you could barely see what he was doing but you didn’t need to see it. Not when you felt the tip of him press against your folds, hard and wet as he pushed it around, lubing himself up.

“Aegon,” you pleaded, tears lodged in your throat as you lifted your leg around him. “Please, I need you.”

He kissed you again, inhaling your very being with just one kiss.

“I love you,” it came out in a broken cry that vibrated through your whole chest.

“Say it again,” he demanded, sliding his cock against you.

Even though you were still terrified of his rejection, worried that after all this he could still push you away, you said it again, “I love you.”

The next kiss was hungrier than the last, teeth clashing against each other as he pressed himself fully against you and finally pushed himself into you. You both moaned into each other at this, your hands clawing at his back to get closer to him, if that was even possible.

When he finally lifted his head, giving you space to breathe, he finally said, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

With that you let out a sharp breath you didn’t realise you had been holding.

It felt like sweet torture the way Aegon thrusted into you, each brush of his cock inside your walls was like a new kind of ecstasy that you couldn’t understand. He was savouring the moment, that much you could tell, enjoying the way your thighs shook with each harsh snap of his hips and your walls clenched around him begging for more.

The way he fucked you was as if he was still trying to stretch you out, get you ready for what was really about to take place. Even though you weren’t sure if you were ready for it, you were gasping for it, on the verge of crying if he didn’t give you what you so desperately craved right then.

“You need something, baby?” Aegon taunted from above you, lifting one of your thighs to sit between your bodies.

You gave him a small nod, all you felt like you could manage.

“I need you to tell me,” Aegon lifted the other legs now, the angle allowing him to reach deeper inside of you. “Speak for me.”

“I can’t,” you gulped, shaking your head at him.

“How am I supposed to know what you want?”

“Please,” tears slid down your cheeks as he delivered a violent thrust. “I-I just n-need more.”

Aegon slowly pulled out from you, making you whine when his tip sat at your entrance. But before you knew it was sinking back into your walls, snapping his hips into yours with a vicious rage that he clearly had been holding back on.

Your thighs were shaking at this, unable to keep down each moan that fell from your lips until he pressed his lips against yours. Only for a moment though, letting out a groan of his own as he curved himself into you.

“You like this,” Aegon stated, grinning against your cheek. “No. No.”

You were so delirious, you could barely focus on his words.

“You love this.”

You clenched around him at this, your cunt clearly agreeing with him.

“As much as I do.”

Your eyes widened, feeling that familiar pressure in your stomach ready to snap. With the way your walls were squeezing him, you were sure that Aegon could tell, holding your face in place so he could watch this time.

“Please,” he pleaded with you, eyes latched onto yours.

You came for him, walls pulsating around him as the ecstasy spread across your skin. His lips only became more frantic after that, keeping you hooked on that feeling as he chased his own orgasm. One more clench from your cunt, had him spilling into you finally. He sighed as he rocked his hips against yours, making sure to feel you up completely with every last drip of his cum.

He slipped out of you with a sharp hiss, collapsing on top of you right after. Your breathing was still harsh as you fell slack against the bed, mind starting to become clear. You didn’t want that, not wanting to think of the consequences of what you both had truly done. Not right then at least.

But Aegon was already softening against you.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered.

“Hmm- What was that?” Aegon asked, shifting to hover above you.

You were getting choked up again as reality began to hit you, “I-”

“It’s okay,” Aegon was quick to reassure you, rolling you both over so you were resting on his chest. “You just gotta trust me.”

You buried your head into his neck, letting him soothe you as his hand rubbed your back.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #dark aegon smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #dark aegon targaryen #squirmhoneysmutmas

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dragonsfictavern · 3 months

Text

Little Lamb

Astarion Ancunin x f!reader x Halsin Silverbough

a/n: This is also a repost from last week as I tried a new format and hated it. So going back to this loveliness!

Summary: When you offer Astarion a treat after a long day, he more than takes you up on the offer, he suggests a treat for you both. Upon their demise, handlers will ensure their animals are pleased. Astarion thinks the same can be said for your blood. But he needs Halsin's help in order to prove it. To please you and upon your release he will feed and taste it in your blood. You're more than up for trying.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, threesome? Kinda, cunnilingus, breast fondling, blood, biting, aftercare

Word count: 2.9K

The fire crackles lively as you take a damp cloth to Astarion’s face. Washing off the blood from the previous battle. You could tell he was tired, or drained being more accurate of a term. Especially given as he only attempted to wave you off a couple of times, claiming he could clean himself, before giving in and letting you care for him.

In fact, by the look of pure content and adoration plastered across his features, you’d claim him to be downright exhausted. He’d never allow himself to show this side to you otherwise. You try not to show your shock as when moving away curl off his forehead, he hums lowly, leaning into your touch.

You set down the cloth once all the blood is off of his face and he almost stumbles leaning in closer to you. Eyes fluttering open he looks around, coming back to his senses. That mask you know so well falls right over his perfectly clean face.

“Darling, if you wanted an excuse to touch me, you know you didn’t need to wait so long,” Astarion drawls, looking down at his hand to make sure no blood got beneath his fingernails. You raise a brow, the corner of lip twitching up in amusement. Seeing past the persona he hides behind was something that took you longer to do than you’re willing to admit. To know what he was truly asking for between the lines of his snark. But now it almost seems to be second nature to you.

“If you want more of my attention Astarion, you only have to ask,” you reply calmly, though by the look of incredulity he sends you, you know he can hear the humor in your tone. He scoffs loudly, pretending as if he despises every syllable of that sentence. Despite the way he leans into you, his shoulder brushing yours, and the way he pointedly avoids your gaze.

“Needing attention? What am I, a dog?” He sputters, shaking his head for good measure. Even as his shoulder is now completely resting into your chest. You bite your lip in order to suppress the size of your grin. Resting your elbow on your knee, you use it to prop your chin in your hand in order to get a better look at him.

“Not at all. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a treat,” a deep fondness seeps into your tone without your control. You had never been able to hide your feelings for Astarion that well. Not when you first met, when he was manipulating things, and especially not since he’s confessed his own feelings for you. But by now there were things he couldn’t hide from you either.

“A treat you say?” Astarion asks with a pause, going still. He quirks his head, looking at you without really turning toward you. You bite down harder on your lip, desperate not to laugh. You were sure you had him in the palm of your hand by now.

“Hungry?” You offer, pressing into him more fully and angling your neck for him. It had been a few days since Astarion last fed. You knew he was in need, especially after the events of today. He always looked forward to it whenever you walked up to his camp offering yourself up on a silver platter. As you ask, you see a glimmer of interest pass over Astarion’s eyes and before you can blink, he’s sitting up straighter and looking right at you.

“Oh? Why, I have a treat in mind for both of us if you’re willing to indulge yourself with me,” Astarion says, voice turning teasingly sultry for effect and sounding much more invested than he did a moment prior. He takes your hand gently, bringing it to his lips and pressing soft kisses into your warm flesh. Though his eyes remain on you and his lips curl into a grin.

“What did you have in mind?” Your question comes out without hesitance and you’re instead surprised to find… intrigue. Astarion must be able to sense it too as just as the last word leaves your lips, he’s lifting you both up from your spots in front of the fireplace. He turns your bodies, directing them to wherever he plans on taking you two. His arm curls around your waist, pulling you tight against him, causing your hip to caress his with every step.

“You know the way poor helpless animals are led to the slaughter every day, yes? How their handlers aim to please them so their precious meat tastes better,” he explains as you slowly walk throughout the camp, your eyes more on each other than where you’re walking. You don’t know where this, or where you are, going but you know you trust Astarion with your life and everything beyond it. But his choice of wording does raise some questions.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘please them’ in this context?” You wonder, your heart picking up speed as you seem to have some idea of where this is going. Since Astarion’s confession, you two have taken things as slow as he’s needed. He’s experimented here and there, testing his limits. You’ve stopped whenever and wherever he draws that line and you’ve been happy to do so for him. Just when you think it’ll be another one of those nights, you and Astarion round the corner and you see your other partner, Halsin, standing there waiting. You feel your face drop comically as what Astarion’s asking for settles in. “Oh no.”

The area around them was a bit ways outside of camp. You could no longer see the fire or hear any voices. There was complete privacy… for the moment anyway. The only thing around you all was the greenery of the forest, tall and wide trees for as far as the eye could see. Standing amidst them all was your other partner. Smiling at you softly as you both make your way toward him.

“Now, darling, make sure not to tell the big oaf— sorry, oak— what inspired this little idea of mine. Not sure he’d do it if he knew,” Astarion mocks as he leans down to your ear, whispering to you. Though you know he’s teasing and even being aware of Astarion’s true feelings surrounding Halsin, you can't help but send your partner a small glare at his words. To which he only grins cheekily in response.

As you both finally reach Halsin, you slip out of Astarion’s arms. His arm falls easily from around your waist and his feet stop in their tracks as yours continue. You take a few steps forward and before you know it, Halsin’s big arms are wrapping themselves around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Resting your hands on his hips, you look up at him with slight concern. But his smile remains just as soft.

“Halsin, are you sure of this?” You ask him quietly, hoping he felt no pressure to do this. You were happy to see him, of course. But the idea of any of you being uncomfortable from this situation made your chest ache from simply the thought. The beginnings of that ache are immediately soothed as Halsin’s expression somehow becomes even more tender.

“I trust you, little lamb, and you can provide much more consent for this than the animals he’d take from can,” Halsin explains and his words instantly ring true for you. It’s also true that you honestly prefer Astarion taking from you instead of an animal. Though Halsin doesn’t need to know all the details surrounding that. “It’s an honorable sacrifice, what you’re doing.”

“Oh, yes, a real sacrifice it is indeed.” Astarion snorts loudly, standing about a foot away with his arms crossed. Letting you and Halsin talk without allowing his presence to be forgotten. Not that it ever could. Your cheeks flush at his words and in your fluster you step away from Halsin who lets you go without a beat before you start heading back over to Astarion. He gives a resounding clap of his hands that make your eyes and smile widen in amusement. “Now then! Shall we go ahead and start? Today has caused me to become absolutely famished.”

As you reach Astarion you take his hands in yours, separating them with humor dancing in your eyes. Astarion is mirroring the look when you make eye contact with him. Slowly, you start walking backwards, keeping his hands in yours as you guide him closer to Halsin. When you can feel the heat of his body behind you, you stop, never looking away from Astarion.

“You’re lucky I adore you,” you say, lightly teasing him. One hand drops his to reach up and gently cup his cheek in your hand. Astarion’s eyes flutter, flickering over your palm and what he can see of your hand and the simple gesture of soft affection. All signs of humor and laughter leave his face and the rare signs of vulnerability and affection shine through as he looks back into your eyes.

“I know that,” he rasps quietly, three words that shoot straight into your heart and make it soar. In his gaze and in this moment you know you have his complete trust and nothing has ever felt better. With a subtle tug on his face, Astarion catches the hint and leans down, his eyes sparking with tension as they look at your lips. You both share a kiss that was short and sweet and completely perfect. After, you let go of him with a loving smile and face Halsin once more.

“You’re sure this is ok, my love?” You ask, reaching out a hand to gently rest it on his forearm. Astarion and Halsin were both very different people. Though you hold much love for them both, you had never attempted to bring you all together before. So something like this being the first occurrence of it was making you more than nervous.

“It is more than. You know how I have long since imagined a night where Astarion and I may partake in sharing the pleasures of your body,” Halsin’s smile is wide as he confesses this all to you and Astarion. His free hand moves to rest over yours on his arm. Looking deep into your eyes, you know he wishes for you to fully digest his next few words. “Though I had imagined them under better circumstances, I am truly blessed to have you both here with me tonight. Let me prove this to you. Lay down.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, eyes widening as you fully come to the realization of what’s about to happen. Butterflies flutter rapidly in your stomach as you watch Astarion sit with his back resting against a nearby tree. When his legs widen in invitation, you swallow thickly before moving to rest between them. As soon as you settle, both men are surrounding you and making quick work of removing your clothes.

Astarion’s hands move up and down along your sides, his eyes watchful of your every expression. You look upon Halsin, eyes wide as he settles back onto his knees once you’re fully bared to them. Suddenly feeling Astarion’s lips graze your ear, you jump slightly, angling your head more towards him.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, darling? One word, at any time, and it will be just you and I once more,” Astarion murmurs, nose instinctively nuzzling behind your ear. A spot where your scent is most prominent. Your heart melts and while you didn’t hold many reservations about this to start, you certainly didn’t now.

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m alright, I swear,” you respond, turning your head further and allowing Astarion to look into your eyes as you say this. To let him know you truly mean it. A flash of adoration passes over his face but it’s gone in a blink and in its place is his usual grin.

“I didn’t think you’d protest. But, you know, just to make sure,” he explains smoothly, though you can pick up on his subtle notes of concern. A smile graces your lips, settling back into his chest as you turn back toward the ever patient Halsin who sits there watching you two with an adoring smile of his own.

“Shall I proceed?” He asks, also checking in. Your heart beats so loudly you know for a fact they can hear it. Warmth spreads through your chest as you nod at him, your legs hooking around Astarion’s as you spread yourself wide for Halsin. A soft rumble escapes from Halsin’s chest as he crawls in between your legs. His hands slide up the length of your limbs, stopping along the inside of your thighs. Your breath hitches and you rest your head on Astarion’s shoulder as you look down at Halsin.

Halsin leans down, slowly kissing up your sensitive inner thighs. Reaching closer and closer to the place where you need him most. You try to ignore your embarrassment at him seeing how turned on you are. How wet the idea of doing this had made you. But as Halsin reaches your core, your toes curl as his breath fans against your wet lips, and all embarrassment is wiped away. Goosebumps form across your arms and you shiver in Astarion’s hold.

His thick fingers part your folds and you have to physically force yourself not to clench, whimpering as tingles light up your core. You watch his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze just as the flat of his tongue laps slowly up your slip. You cry out, arching your chest back into Astarion’s chest and his arms immediately wrap around you, holding you firmly and massaging your breasts.

Halsin groans at the taste of you, his eyes fluttering closed. It’s like something is unleashed within him as your essence hits his tongue. Moving in closer to your cunt, Halsin ravages you like a man starved, his tongue moving at short and quick strokes. You cry out, hips jerking up into his face and his hands on your thighs hold you down, keeping you wide open for him.

Pleasure swirls in your gut, the pressure building with every thrust of his tongue that delves inside you and every flick of your clit. The battling sensations have you moaning and squirming against Astarion who watches you hungrily, a wide smirk on his face. Halsin growls, latching onto your clit and sucking harshly.

Lighting shocks its way through your system as your nerves ignite from his skilled mouth. Your face twists in pleasure as his tongue swirls around your clit before sliding down your folds into the cavern of your core. Your body starts to shake as that pressure grows heavier and heavier. You feel as though you’re on fire as Halsin fucks you with his tongue.

His pace remains steady and it has you writhing and whining in pleasure, desperate for release, your stomach clenching as your thighs shake from the pressure. Halsin’s jaw unhinges as far as he can, doubling in his efforts to eat you out. His tongue consumes you, eagerly devouring everything you’re giving him. His teeth nip at your clit and the coil in your stomach snaps.

You cry out loudly as your orgasm hits you. All you hear is a low chuckle before Astarion swoops in, fangs easily sinking into your flesh. Letting out a short scream, your body jolts as the pleasure of Astarion’s bite combines with the movements of Halsin’s tongue in a perfect symphony of ecstasy.

Astarion drinks from you heavily and you moan, your body rocking both into his mouth and into Halsin’s tongue as he doesn’t stop riding you through your high. Your entire body buzzes and shakes, feeling light as air as your climax moves through and out of you. Right into Halsin’s patient tongue.

You sigh, sagging into Astarion’s body as your orgasm slowly fades. Halsin continues to lap at your core though much slower, considering and being careful of any overstimulation. A rumble sounds out from his chest as he cleans up your release, causing your hips to lightly twitch.

Waiting as patiently as Halsin, you let Astarion get his fill of you. A small smile rests on your face from the overwhelming but pleasing experience they put you through. A grunt leaves your lips once Astarion pulls his fangs out but that sting is quickly forgotten as he nuzzles into your neck afterward. The feeling has you giggling quietly.

Halsin pushes up from between your thighs once the mess is licked clean and moves further up your body. Leaning in he kisses you softly and you hum contently as you kiss him back, enjoying the sight of your wetness coating his lips and chin. When he pulls back he lays down on you two gently, resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around both of you. You all quickly settle into the comfort of everyone’s embrace.

“I’d say this went well, don’t you think?” Astarion asks lightly, effectively breaking the peaceful silence. The question has you all laughing as ‘well’ is not strong enough of a word to describe the feeling of what just happened between you three. You know you certainly wouldn’t be against this happening again and you feel as though neither of them would surely mind either.

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decibly · 1 year

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It had been a fairly calm night so far, so obviously something had to ruin it. However, Danny never expected that something to be a tiny feral child swinging past him using a… was that a grappling hook? Yes, it was. A tiny feral child swinging past him with a grappling hook in one hand, sword in another, trying to stab him.

The child also appeared to be Robin. Well, that’s what Danny gets for thinking he could pass through Gotham to try and lose the GIW. (It was a better plan in his head. Much better.) But if Robin was here, that meant… oh, crap.

Right on cue, a dark shadow appeared out of a spot Danny was sure didn’t have Batman hiding in it a few seconds before. Danny didn’t have a clue about how to loom over someone 15 metres above him, but Batman clearly did. It seemed more terrifying than if he were on the rooftop with Batman, because at least then the feeling of being loomed over would make sense.

Danny’s attention snapped back to the rooftop with Batman and Robin, Robin yelling at him. “WHAT?” he yelled right back, given that he had no idea what the child was trying to tell him. Robin repeated himself, but Danny still couldn’t understand. He got a few syllables this time, but not really enough to decipher the sentence. Something something-own something-ear something something-ant.

Own, maybe like in clown? Had something happened with the Joker? Maybe they recognized him as a hero-slash-vigilante and needed his help with something else, because surely they would be fighting the Joker right now if he was out. Unsure, Danny floated down from where he had been – well, not stargazing, something else - cloudgazing? – cloudgazing, until he was floating on his stomach just a bit above Batman. Oh wow, the looming was so much worse.

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you,” Danny asked Robin.

The younger boy growled out, “I was telling you to get down here.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, I guess! Uh, why?” Danny asked curiously.

“To determine what your intentions in Gotham were, and if you are a threat,” Batman growled, the same as Robin but much deeper. Maybe it was genetic?

“Well… nothing, really? I might be here another night, or maybe two, but I’ll be gone soon. Just passing through, trying to get some people off my tail, you know?” Danny explained. Robin’s expression remained impassive, but Batman’s cowl shifted in a way that reminded Danny of a face Jazz wore a lot.

“Do you… have anywhere to stay?”

Oh. The expression was concern.

“Yeah, I totally do!” Danny lied. It was very obvious that neither of the others on the rooftop bought it.

“If you need it, I can set you up somewhere–” Batman tried, but Danny was already speaking.

“Ok, is that all? That’s all, now would you look at the time, I need to leave, to go to, uh, the place to sleep I totally have! Ok bye!” The words came in a rush, and the moment he finished speaking, Danny vanished from view. The two other vigilantes blinked, slightly shocked or startled, and Danny flew as far away as he could.

#dannymay #dannymay2023 #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne #batmans adoption radar

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mvniro · 5 months

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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 RIDE IT, FOLLOW MY LEAD ; a nakahara chuuya fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . here, a chu fic.. in my defense, i blame my upcoming exams and busy schedule for posting so late.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; older brother's bestfriend!chuuya, fem!reader, nsfw, mutual pinning but confessions aren't direct, riding, cowgirl, virginity loss, mentions of consensual prostitution, spitting (not in mouth), angst and yeah that's all i can remember.

many things are kept away or hidden from children. drugs and intoxicated substances are usually tried to keep away from the reach of addicts and the lust for blood and itching for violence is desperately being avoided by a one time murderer with crooked morals.

yet the outcome remains the same most of the time with the forbidden being taken by the one it was supposedly kept away from is the one they acquire. it's a given in due course of time.

yet still chuuya watched for years as your brother tried to play the role of a protective brother and keep you away from most of his friends and social circle, the amount of his friends you met could be pathetically counted on one hand and even they haven't met you many times to actually put an identity and persona to your face except the title of being their 'friend's little sister.'

all but one.

"shit." your brother curses lowly, closing his eyes as he tried to find a way out of this sudden complication. he opened his eyes again and glared at you who showed up unannounced.

"i-i just wanted to surprise you -- i --"

and even now the ends of chuuya's lips quirk up when he saw you standing while gulping, cowering under your brother's glare.

"it's not about coming here unannounced or announced, it's about what would have happened if you didn't know your way? you would have been lost here and i wouldn't have a clue because i would be drunk out of my mind! you hear me?" your brother exclaimed loudly yet you don't fight like you usually do for each syllable he spoke, he raised the frequency of his voice to get his words across your brain.

"i am sorry --"

"i am not angry." your brother intrupted your apology but with the way imaginary annoyance dripped down his eyes as he continued to glower down at you told you anything but that.

"i can stay at a hotel or --"

"nonsense. i am not letting my sister stay at a cheap hotel when her brother has a good enough place for her to stay." your brother once again intrupted you, he glanced at the clock and furrowed his eyebrows.

"not good, there is an hour we have left to think of some solution." your brother muttered before he turned to look up at the second floor where the two rooms are -- one belonging to him and one to chuuya.

"well the solution is standing infront of you bastard." the boastful voice belongs to the red haired who spreaded his arms and looked at your brother with eyebrows cocked, faux offense painted all over the preety features which michelangelo would be in awe of and be inspired by.

your brother mimicked his best friend by raising his own eyebrows as he demanded the man before him to answer and make his point clear and maybe this is why he turned a blind eye to the way your eyes sparkles as you stare at the red haired man who you always favored over any other man.

"she can stay with me in my room till your party is finished, no?"

"you won't be attending?" your brother furrowed his eyebrows but didn't bother saying anything as he saw chuuya walk towards you and sling an arm over your shoulder.

"i rather not have iguana cling onto me. plus it's been so long since i last saw doll, let me catch up with her?" chuuya looked at you with the same gentleness which could be found in your brother's eyes when you aren't looking at him and your brother's eyes soften.

he is staring at the man who he could trust his life with, you with.

"iguana?" you repeat, a smile threatening to break onto your face at the joy of knowing chuuya and your brother still hold onto their silly habit of giving nicknames to people so they can shit on them later

"yeah doll, iguana is a verrrrry mean and bitchy girl." chuuya widened his eyes playfully to faux seriousness, comfortingly squeezing your forearm as he joked with you.

the tragedy started when the poverty ridden man found illegal means to acquire quick cash to fill his stomach.

and tragedy began when your brother, a man of looks and a bad personality which rich girls usually swoon over met his pandora's box and never closed it for what easy way to make money then to be the fantasy of girls who eat french cuisine for breakfast, italian for lunch and japanese for dinners? and who can make him experience success better then those boys who drives ferraris in the day and spend the nights in bmw's with a girl on their laps?

prostitution on his own will where he is the abuser and he is the abused. he is the hopeless in a situation fabricated by your parents but you don't need to know it. any of it. for he would prefer if you still saw him as the brother you always knew, he is enough to feel disgusted by himself and chuuya is enough to have sympathy for him.

that exchange took place fifty five minutes ago and so this was why you are now laying on chuuya's bed after taking a shower, arms and legs spread as you stared up at the ceiling, basking in the silence of the room and the giddiness of your heart of being in the room of the one who first made you swallow the innocent drink of a crush which stirred into a drug of love.

the door to the room opened to pull you out of your lovesick and teenage girl like thoughts, you leaned your head up to see chuuya enter, half body inside the room while the other remained outside in a very obvious way to tell you that he had been stopped by someone on his way to the room.

you sat up, leaned a bit forwards to hear the voice of the man who made goosebumps to litter your skin,

"yeah man, kinda don't feel good today or i would've joined the party for sure." chuuya chuckled and exchanged a few more short words with whoever he is talking to before he turned around to face you, closing the door and locking it as well.

you tilt your head as you hear the click indicating the door is locked and safe from outside intruptions and chuuya grins, the same boyish grin which promised nothing but thrill and excitement from all those years ago and it sturred the same feeling of being smitten with the man infront of you who now stood right infront of you, hands on his knees as he leaned to be on the same eye level as you.

"just making sure no drunk bastard barges here doll. can't i be protective of the precious doll in my room?" chuuya is a big tease. a very big and mean tease for if not then why would he play with the fire that is your heart by caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

you immediately look away to distance yourself from the addicting touch of the attractive and fanciable man, eyes falling on the skateboard leaning against the wall instead.

"you still skate?" you ask as you try to change the topic but chuuya had never been one to be easily stirred away from his goals, his knuckles still felt the smoothness and roughness of your skin. his eyes were still trained on your face as he stared, earnestly.

"gotta have something up my sleeve to impress you, no? my doll is getting prettier every time i see her, i gotta work to maintain my position as your favorite, yeah? am i still your favorite?" he teases you and it's at moments like this which makes you be aware of the tease which he is, his words which drips with playful flirtation. oh shit, you feel your heart beating quicker.

chuuya nakahara is the type of guy daughters are kept away from. older, a tease, someone who isn't afraid to talk using their fists when words fail to make a point clear and a foul mouth to combine with his devilish features.

the devil may wear prada but chuuya nakahara wears a leather jacket and choker.

yet he is also the same boy who you met all those years ago when he first moved to your area, the guy you introduced your brother to and watched them clicking instantly to even watching them leaving together for university.

"you were and will always be my favorite." you mumble and nearly feel the charms of the man named chuuya choking you when he tilts his head as he heard you before he grinned, reassurance and confidence flowing through his veins and mixing with his blood.

"you are my favorite girl too, doll. my only girl." chuuya whispered in a tone which can be imagined to be close to a murmur and a whisper, as his words were meant only for you to hear.

he relished in seeing you squirm under his intense gaze as you looked away and chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in amusement as he saw your lingering stares at his skateboard increase, he asked,

"wanna try it?" gently oh gently did the wind blow through the garden you sat alone in or is it chuuya's loving voice that is stirring emotions in the garden of feelings of your heart?

you shake your head softly but he pouts, he saw the intrest glinting in your eyes.

so he does what he does best. making girls fall for him and his charms but there is only one he will catch from falling into the abyss of heartbreak.

"come on, i am gonna be there to catch you. trust me doll." why is he suddenly being so adamant, he doesn't know. but he does know that he should be viewing you as the little sister of his bestfriend and not as an insanely preety woman in his room.

the woman infront of him right now was previously the girl he used to carry on his back whenever he and your older brother used to go out and took you with them.

chuuya's eyes trail down your neck to your collarbones to those two sinful mounds on your chest which makes it very evident that you aren't the pubescent girl anymore but an actual grown woman.

and what better way to greet himself with this better reminder that the woman infront of him is the sister of his best friend than to indulge in innocent activities with her like he used to?

but your stubbornness to remain seated and not cause any noise which could possibly ruin whatever party your brother is having downstairs is being a big hindrance in this self realization trip chuuya wants to take his heart on.

for would he really break his bestfriend's trust like this even after knowing he is the only person your brother could blindly trust you with?

no, he can't.

chuuya playfully rolls his eyes to make it seem as if his inner self isn't torn between choosing what's right for his heart or what's right for his conscience, he extended his arm as if reaching for a decision but what good is it when both include you?

chuuya's hand wraps around your wrist as he pulled you to stand up and when you widen your eyes in surprise at his action, he wonders if you are walking on the same thin rope of desire and conscience.

"i will catch you from falling." chuuya muttered but the way his voice is low, his usual teasing and playful tone absent, can one really be ignorant to think he is still talking about the skateboard?

"always?" you whisper out and isn't it great that you two have a skateboard to use as a decoy for speaking about matters much deeper then the wood the said skateboard was craved from?

"i'll be damned if i don't." chuuya whispered and smiled before his smile faltered a bit and he chuckled nervously, this chain reaction of emotions within him made you feel as if you are the only one who wants to push the boundaries to the point of no return while he is comfortable with where you two stand right now.

you nod, not as excited as chuuya hoped to see but he doesn't let this bring his mood down, instead, he releases his grip on your forearm to hold your hand instead, leading you towards his skateboard which was proped against the wall.

chuuya leaned down to pick it up and as he did so, his hand brushed against your knee which made you gulp the shaky breath which were to leave your mouth to let chuuya know the effect of his touch on your body, trapping the breath inside your chest forever.

"i never tried skateboarding." you feel it's appropriate to let him know in advance of what an immature and inexperienced student he will be dealing with but chuuya stood straight after placing the skateboard on the ground, one leg on the skateboard while the other was on the floor, he waves his hand.

"this is why i want to be the one to teach you doll. trust me, yeah? i'll catch you before you fall."

and what could you do except nod, trusting the man as you grabbed his hand which he offered, you looked down at the skateboard and with a uncomfortable feeling gnawing at your heart, you slowly raised to place one of your feets on it, going for the centre of the board till chuuya stopped you,

"not here, near the ends. if you stand on the centre then you will loose your balance." he guided you as your heart felt a violent flutter when you noticed his leg which was still planted on top of on the skateboard to offer you stability on this otherwise unstable object of joy and amusement.

you nod and tightened your grip on his palm as you placed your leg on the end of the skateboard while his remained on the other end and he stood behind you, the free hand of his itching to close the distance between his palm and the curve of your waist.

"good, now try to lift your second leg up as well, put the weight on this one." he pats your thigh of the leg planted on the skateboard and you gulp, out of fear or out of desire?

chuuya didn't notice you biting your bottom lip for he was looking down at your shaky leg with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he muttered next to your ear,

"come on, try it." the gravel and low tone one of the man had you nearly closing your eyes but you resisted, the grip on his hand tightened even more as you lifted your leg from the ground for the slightest second before yelping, grabbing onto chuuya's arm with both hands as you felt your body shake due to the rawest taste of feeling the control you have over your body leave you as gravity plays a little trick on you to take advantage of the instability of your body.

but chuuya has always been the one to have an effect more stronger then gravity on you, it's like gravity bends to his will.

so it isn't a shock when chuuya's arm is wrapped around your waist as he pulls your body towards his, chuckling breathlessly as if he just recovered from being taken aback,

"easy there doll, i got you." he whispers, you nod.

he makes you regain your balance and you allow him to lead, his hand on your hip while you remained clasping one of his hands with your own to have support.

the hand on your hip tightened its hold and you wonder if it's how it would feel to have him grip you while your naked bodies laid sprawled with each other's?

"slowly . . . slowly, yeah, that's it . . . right there, such a good girl." chuuya guided you but your brain is salacious or why would your thoughts revolving your older brother's bestfriend be filled with concupiscence?

but alas, had the heart not been strong to a fault, would the humankind have gone through the many tragedies and achievements it did?

and chuuya's heart always had a hold on his brain so when he spoke the next sentence, it is utmost important to know his intentions behind it, he does when he does in a spur of emotions, of his desires which tickled him whenever he looked down to see his hand grabbing your hip and he almost had a urge to lift the cloth of your loose t-shirt up to see the skin his hands are on top of.

"did you kiss anyone while i was away?" he rapsed out and gulped thickly when he realised his words but what is giving him confidence to keep going on is the way he heard your breath hitch despite the blaring music from downstairs. and so he did.

"pardon?" you breath out and blinked.

"i will pardon you, no doubt in that." chuuya smirked, once he saw you purse your lips with no signs of discomfort or anything related to it on your face, "eyes on the skateboard doll." he tsked.

"right, right." you breath out as if being shaken awake from whatever daze you went in after listening to his words. now that chuuya's feet wasn't on the skateboard any longer, you felt even more nervous and scared.

"so did you? you know it's not nice to not answer someone." he mumbled, using his leg to guide your other leg on top of the skateboard.

his knee is pressed against the back of your's as he moves your leg sideways to find the perfect position for you to stand in without wobbling constantly, all while the other hand gripped and gripped your hip more tightly and the thought that it would be sure to leave a mark, his mark, is making his breathing pattern to be disturbed, hastening it's pace.

"no." you shakily breath out before repeating yourself in a more presentable and audible tone, "no i didn't, did you?"

you screwed your eyes shut, the instinct to show the same curiosity he did took the best of you and once the words were spoken, you were left all alone with your embarrassment in your body.

chuuya scooted a bit closer to you as if he wasn't already way too close then needed but who were you to point it out when you liked the body heat he radiated and the smell of his cologne faintly hitting your nose, but this step closer to you made his crotch to brush against the plush of your ass and you did everything to not grind against him or try to feel his crotch again.

"i didn't as well." he whispers, head dipped to such an angle that when he spoke, his breath hitted your jaw and is this how consuming cocaine for the first time feels like as well?

no wonder they are taboo and kept away from the curious minds.

"why? you are such a preety guy, don't you have girls begging to fall on your lap?" your curiosity couldn't be stopped now once it flowed out of the chambers of your brain. now, this curiosity flowed out and wrapped around chuuya's heart to make it feel giddy to know you care enough to be this invested in his personal affairs.

"ah," you exclaim as he makes you stand on the skateboard, your imbalance leading you to grabbing his shirt but as he stood behind you and you grabbed the nearest support you could find, you did not realize your grip was painfully near the waistband of his sweatpants because what need is there for you to look back when you were able to feel the faint outlines of his abs through the fabric of his cloth?

he helped you to stand on the skateboard and when he moved back to make you stand without his support, your knees wobbled and you widened your eyes as you were to fall backwards if it wasn't for chuuya to wrap his arms around your hips.

"got the girl i wanted to have on my lap finally." chuuya mused before helping you stand again, his hands on your hips as he stares down at your legs before he leaned down a bit to place his hand on top of your knee and your eyes widened for why would they not when your drug is flowing though your veins and into your kidney?

chuuya guided you to the position he deemed right before he stood up straight and as he did, so did the impure blood which was now once again filtered yet why did the drug still flow with it? why did it not get filtered?

you exhale a shaky breath as chuuya takes a step back after and you wobble on your feet but remain standing in place.

lines are being blurred. drugs are being inhaled and their intake is high. sin is in the air and chuuya is behind you. you are on a thin line and you loose or win is up to you. whether you fall or not is something only time will tell.

sin didn't just randomly appear, no, but it was excreted out by chuuya's brain and now the same sin of concupiscence was being felt by you too but the only difference is that chuuya has the confidence to act upon it and you don't.

"what? cat got your tongue all of a sudden?" chuuya mocked and oh, the words of mockery went straight to your cunt. "you used to talk a lot when we were kids, it was honestly so cute."

chuuya saw from his peripheral vision how his words resulted in you to bite your bottom lip to not release a breath which would come out a bit too shaky, he sucked in his inner cheek for he wanted you to react to his words and you weren't so he guesses he would need to push you a bit more.

chuuya lightly pushed the skateboard with his heel and you squealed. chuuya immediately wrapped his hands around you again but this time his hands were on your upper abdomen, just a bit from grabbing your boobs.

"easy there, doll." chuuya released a breathy laugh and you suck in air and your annoyance for how is it fair for you to be this hot and bothered by his teasing while he looks like he is having the time of his life?

"perhaps you aren't doing a good job at teaching me chu." you mumble only for the purpose to earn a reaction from him which you do but not in the way you wanted but you aren't one to complain for his cocky attitude as chuuya cocked his eyebrows in amusement at your words, is something no one could deny from finding attractive.

"i think so too, maybe i am being a bit too soft with you?" chuuya played along with your pathetic attempt as he finds areas of concern within himself, he helped you stand again and the sight of your figure shaking as you tried to stand steadily on the object is cute in his eyes.

"please hold me." your request is not innocent at all, or well, that's what chuuya thinks when your tone used is breathy and low but nevertheless, the cocaine in your blood does it work to strip away your troubles, chuuya's hands once again find their favorite spot ; your hips as he stands in a proximity so close that your heart busted with joy when you felt the outline of his chest on your back.

"what a greedy girl, aren't you a bit too demanding?" chuuya smirked and you could feel it in that cocky tone of his.

"you made me like this by giving into my every need." you whisper out as his voice is doing wonders on you, stimulating and making you shy but where rationality surrenders, arousal takes over.

this is why you placed your hand on top of his under the disguise of being 'scared' as you tilted your head back to rest it on his shoulder and looked up at him, whispering, "what should i do now?"

with a gulp, chuuya's faltered smirk returned as he rubbed his nose against your cheek, "the hardest thing when riding a skateboard -- for me -- was to stop. so let's teach you that first? hm?"

closing your eyes for the way he hums has you going crazy, you aren't sure if you want him to see your eyes exposing your true feelings for him but chuuya did, anyways, he knew it the second he had slinged his arm over your shoulder and watched you become the schoolgirl you once were as you shyly stood beside him.

chuuya is smart. and for a certain pair of siblings, he had always been the most observant and always on his heels if they needed help.

like a dance, chuuya pushed the skateboard gently with his heel while his hands remained on your hips and your's on top of his, now chuuya and you both knew this wasn't actually how one was supposed to ride a skateboard but it served as a good disguise to keep on feeling each other up.

"i don't want to do this anymore." you sigh, craning your neck to look at him with a pout on your lips, you temptress, you were just begging for chuuys to let go of his rationality and lean down to kiss you, weren't you?

"come on, don't give me that. you were looking at the skateboard so much and you used to always accompany us when we went skateboarding back then as well." chuuya tells as he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it on his index finger but bites off a smile when you shake your head.

"i don't really care much about skateboarding. i just liked looking at you riding it." you had confessed your childhood long secret of accompanying them with the purpose of letting your eyes drink in the sight of the then teenager who laughed cockily at your brother who gaped at him and another one of his tricks he performed on the skateboard, chuuya would laugh only louder when his eyes would trail towards you to see you looking at him the same way your brother would but the only difference would be that your stare would stir a feeling in him which would end with blush on his ear shells and cheeks.

now chuuya knew of your 'admiration' and 'fondness' for him. hell, he even knew of your feelings for him but what he did not know was how deeply and far back were they rooted into your heart. so he blinked.

you sighed as you saw his baffled expression and raised your head to stop resting it on his shoulder and if chuuya wasn't busy in repeating your words over and over again, he would've whined.

he froze, sure, but your thinking of the reason being awkwardness and utter surprise at your confession is not correct even in the slightest, he is frozen due to how the scene is playing out. chuuya knew of your feelings towards him as stated before and he had, ever since your brother broke the news of you coming to live with them to him, been imagining different ways of how the confession from both sides would go.

what he never thought was it happening during a moment of utter lust and attempts of breaking confinements, which, in this case happens to be their own conscience.

you run a hand through your hair, "well the cat is out of the bag." you shrug, disappointment is way too close to find a home inside your body. you smile helplessly as you look down at how you are standing steadily on top of the skateboard before muttering so only chuuya could hear though maybe it would've been better if he didn't, "i am helplessly in love with you, always were. i don't have intrest in skateboarding -- i just liked seeing you on it. i got offered to stay at the dorms near the university but i declined because i wanted to stay under the same roof as you . . . " you trail off, getting off the skateboard before turning around to face him.

your action is useless if you aren't actually going to look into his eyes and continue to stand with your head dropped low.

"i was excited. till i came here. chu . . ." you look up at him, eyes which he once dreamt of staring into his in classes he found boring, now stared at him but his dream didn't come true for your eyes didn't hold the spark he wanted to see in them, " . . what are you and my brother hiding? why are you so hesitant?"

you looked at the skateboard which served as a small beacon of the line you wanted to cross but couldn't.

you took a step forwards and tried to take a step past chuuya who snapped put of his frozen state, immediately clasping his hand around your wrist to stop you and pulled you back infront of him. he placed his arm on your shoulder as he leaned near you, smiling in defeat.

"the girl i desired is the sister of the man i consider my bestfriend, who stayed with me in my thick and thin moments. must i choose between love and loyalty? i am torn doll, oh so torn." he confessed too. not in the way he or you (in your dreams) could ever imagine.

so please, you begged yourself to not focus on how close his face is to your's and how if you tipped your head forwards, you could place your lips against his.

"you can't choose?" you asked as you stared up at eyes so filled with life that you could mock the oceans for not even their beauty could be compared to the pigment of the man's eyes in your opinion. "i kinda get it though. i knew this would never work. this is why i never wanted to confess but you made me." your smile gave it away that you are still stuck on the same rope.

"i made you confess?" chuuya grinned and clasped his hands behind your head, he leaned forwards even more to ruse his brain into being satisfied with him brushing his nose against your's though what his brain itched for was to have his hands on your ass or on your back or on any part of your body as long as he could feel your skin on his.

"mhm, you did." you continue to play with your teasing accusation as chuuya took a step back and as his arms were around you, you were forced to take a step forwards too to maintain the close proximity between you two.

there is a voice hammering in the back of chuuya's head which is telling him to stop before he does something which will give arousal a upper hand on him but when he looked at the smile playing on your lips, chuuya felt the urge to break free from his confinement.

"wow, this is what i get for trying to teach you how to stand on a skateboard? what a ungrateful girl." chuuya teased, his own grin making you gulp and he watched how you swallowed your saliva and how the lump flowed down your throat before his eyes rested on your breasts covered by the fabric of your shirt and how his hands shook as he tried to ignore the urge to pry your shirt off of you. he continued to walk back and make you walk alongside him.

"i didn't ask you to teach me, you did it yourself chu." you point out, licking your lips as you tried not to focus on his hands on you by staring at his face which he tilted to the side to let his eyes to trail even lower and oh, he smirked arrogantly and raised his eyes in amusement.

the confinements couldn't hold the man named chuuya nakahara who felt something snap in him when he stared at your legs clenching together and your hand twirling the end of your shirt as if the fabric is annoying you as much as he is.

"yet you followed my instructions like a good girl." chuuya raised his eyebrow in amusement and the excitement almost made his heart bust when he felt the under of his knee hitting the bed and chuuya fell on it and of course, you found yourself falling on top of him with your arms on either side of him to support yourself.

"i like being praised. especially if the praises are from you." what shame remains when everything else is being kept in the open? you do not fear the outcome for once chuuya had reciprocated with confessions of his own, your mind circulated and worshipped only one thought ; to lay it all bare infront of him and let time and luck decides what happens next.

the words you uttered sounded like mirth to chuuya but your body being pressed on his, thighs brushing against his inner thigh and the lower part of your stomach being right on top of his crotch told chuuya this situation is very much serious and not a product of his desires forging into a very real life daydream. chuuya raised his eyebrows and decided to take one step forwards which would decide the course of the night.

"now follow my new instructions doll." chuuya's hands landed on the ends of your shirt as he hooked his fingers on the fabric, his heart beated but not as much in excitement as it did in anticipation.

chuuya licked his lips as he felt them drying while waiting and analyzing the expression you wore and he wondered for the hidden meaning behind you simply blinking but perhaps there wasn't any meaning behind them and you were just as eager as him to proceed with this situation, chuuya came to know so when you lifted your body a bit to help him take off your shirt with ease.

looking at the surprise flashing through his pupils for its rather rare for the tease to be caught off guard, you knew you would not miss this opportunity,

"what? am i not following your instructions correctly?" your grin faltered when chuuya pulled the shirt over your head before using it to tie your hands together behind your back, the action was carried with such precise and swift movements that you didn't realize it until he had done it.

"you look so adorable when you are at a loss of words." chuuya sighed fondly, grinning at your choice of wearing a lacy baby pink bra and suddenly you felt hot.

if you were feeling hot before then you are burning right now under the scorching stare of chuuya whose eyes frantically looked over each inch of your skin and those covered mounds you were unexpectedly testing his patience with.

chuuya extended his hand towards one of your boobs and he rubbed his thumb over your nipple to watch it perk up under his finger.

maybe it's the thrill of finally living the scenario you imagine on many nights when your fingers are knuckle deep in your core and you are a moaning mess for the guy who you weren't supposed to crush on because he is your brother's best friend but you did, or maybe it's the foreign simulation of a real touch of another other then yourself on your inexperienced body but whatever it may be, the pool of your own slick on your underwear wasn't something you could ignore and especially not when chuuya moved his knee so that it could be right below your wet and clothed core.

"chuuy --"

"tell me to stop and i will but if you don't, i'll make sure no other man could satisfy you like i do." he muttered in absolute seriousness as if he meant every single touch and caress on the curves of your waist and you shook your head and for emphasis, you humped against his knee to let him feel the wetness he caused.

"don't stop, please chuuya. choose me for once -- for my body, doesn't matter. i know you won't betray my brother by dating me, i never expected you to, but please. just be mine tonigh --"

your words didn't get the freedom to be spilt out into the atmosphere as chuuya shuts you by tugging at the restraint on your hand to pull you down and kissing you, his hand came to find its place on the curve of your jaw which he carassed as if to soothe your nerves or to control himself from pouncing at you at the moment.

"shut the fuck up." he gritted as soon as the short kiss shared between you two were over but looking at your glossed lips and flushed face as you tried to grasp your breath stolen by him and his kiss and chuuya pulled your face down using the hold he had on your jaw.

your eyes immediately screwed shut at the feeling of his soft lips moving on your's before he tilted your head to acquire an angle which would make it easy for him to push his tongue into your mouth, at that your heart began beating fast again while your cells celebrated that its finally happening.

maybe this is why you began taking ragged breaths which lead chuuya to increase the passion he excreted in this make out session. his free hand went down and towards your shorts after which he teasingly pulled them down only to abandon them and watch it smack your skin, the hiss that left your lips gave chuuya the opportunity to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.

you wanted to caress his cheek, touch his abs and run your hand through his hair but due to the restraints on your hands, all you could do was whine in the kiss, chuuya pushed his knee up a bit to hit it against your wet core and you immediately lost any energy you had. this one touch from him had you going limp as your body leaned on his.

chuuya pulled back from the kiss to look at your eyes still closed with his own eyes glazed with arousal which broke through every confinement and restraints.

chuuya's both hands landed on either of your hips and he lifted you up before turning you both around so you would be the one lying on his bed and suddenly the way his smell infiltrated your nose had you gulping thickly. in excitement, in anticipation.

chuuya planted one hand beside your head as with the other, he pulled down his sweatpants before cursing under his breath. sweat dribbled down his temple and all the way from his cheek to his neck to his collarbone before disappearing beneath his shirt.

and when you raised your eyes again, you saw the man already staring at you as he smiled in what seemed like embarrassment.

but can a man like him even have something to be embarrassed about? oh, don't you know, chuuya? you make others embarrassed with just how ethereal and angel like you look.

he isn't the angel though.

the way his lips parted to let his tongue out to moisten his bottom lip made it clear so or else why would you release a shaky breath suppressing desire?

"give me a minute doll?" he muttered so lazily but just as energetically did his hands pinch your nipples again.

you nodded and chuuya raised to his feet to lean towards the nightstand as he opened the drawer and began to shuffle through the many objects placed in it.

"fuck, where . . . is it . . .?" you heard chuuya mutter under his breath and you raised your feet to trace it along his waist to tease him and rile him up.

"you keep condoms so casually chu?" your voice was purposely toned to sound pouty as chuuya spared you a glance over his shoulder and he grinned before looking back at the task in hand and a sigh of relief left him when he found the packet he was looking for.

"i do not fuck around like it's second nature for me doll. when you have a house which is the usual spot for any parties, you better keep condoms." vaguely he answered but the way he winked gave you the reassurance that you won't be tossed aside after being used even if that was what you originally were ready to accept if it meant he would give in to his and your urges.

"virgin?"is the only word you mutter as you watch the process of chuuya slowly pulling down and removing his sweatpants and boxers away from his body before he ripped the condom package off and he looks at you while not stopping with his actions.

chuuya tilted his head to the side with a smirk, "why don't you tell me that."

and as chuuya approached you again, he raised the ends of his shirt over his head before tossing it to the side and leaning over you again, "tell me if i am a virgin or not doll," he cooed, alright, but his words and their loving tone was a very big contrast to the way his hands greedily raised one of your legs up to pull your shorts and underwear down in one go.

you sinked into the mattress even more as chuuya parted your legs apart, hissing at the sight of your wet core which glistened as the dim lights of his room fell on them.

chuuya raised his hand to trace over your folds and relished at how his finger got coated with your wetness, chuuya looked up as your thigh had twitched at this action of his.

"first time?" he asked and when you nodded a bit awkwardly, chuuya had this sudden urge to go on his knees and kiss his way up your inner thigh towards your cunt before ravishing it -- but he would get another day to do it. right now, if his angry dick doesn't enter you, he will go insane.

so he rather leans down to plant a kiss on the tip of your nose before making his way down and at the same time he taps on your stomach to let you know to lift yourself for him which you do, arching your back so chuuya could put his hand on your back before his hand trailed upwards to unclasp your bra.

chuuya leaned back and pulled you along by pulling on your tied hands, he sat on the bed and pulled you on his lap a bit harshly before immediately sucking on your nipple while his one hand remained to hold your hands over your head and the other carassed your hip.

the latter hand then began to travel downwards and you would've loved to focus on his touch if it wasn't for the way he nibbled on your nipple lightly before beginning to suck on it. his hand began to rub your clit teasingly with nothing but the tip of his fingernail -- all while he ignored his hard dick throbbing for attention.

"fuck, what a good girl." chuuya hissed under his breath as if the man could not physically stop himself from admiring you and if one thinks so, then let's also know the fact that mentally, chuuya couldn't even look away for even a fraction of a second.

to control himself is like controlling a starving beast with a fawn left unsupervised and unattended infront of him and the only thing restricting the beast was the pathetic chain on it's collar.

you whine, raise your eyes to look into chuuya's before you lean near him to capture his lips in a kiss which soon is being led by him.

the chain snaps and the beast pounced on the fawn.

chuuya falls down on the bed as his hands reach to grope your ass, your hands are still behind your back as you try to match his pace in the messy kiss and it is when you separated to take a breath that chuuya mumbled,

"ride me, doll? go at your pace, i just want your first time to feel good since it's with me --" the smirk and the tone made it clear how cocky and proud he is of himself. " -- come on, don't you want to feel good and make me feel good too? what are you hesitating for dear? i'll be here to guide you." he coos. the way how confidence sprouts from each pore of his body is something only he could pull off for he has the skills to back up every claim yet with a man like him, one would clearly not imagine him to be gentle.

he isn't but that's something you came to know only after you had gulped nervously before sinking down on his dick slowly as he advised you to take him inch by inch. the foreign intrusion burned and with each inch of him sinking into you, you could feel your walls stretching and it felt as if they were almost being ripped apart.

chuuya isn't a man of gentleness in bed usually but seeing you bite your lip as you screwed your eyes shut thinking it would help you tolerate the pain, chuuya wanted to be nothing but be tender with you who is acting so docile. but chuuya can't help but snicker, he can't help but be mean and with the way your walls are suffocating his cock, he is sure you like this behavior a bit too much as well.

his hands are on your hips to be the only source of stability for your hands are behind your back, tied and even if chuuya knew you needed time to get used to the foreign feeling of his dick inside you, he couldn't stop from pulling his hand away from your hip and smacking it lightly to watch you yelp in surprise.

"don't be mean chu." you stutter, eyes opening to glare lightly at him without holding any negative emotions, you could feel the pain fading away.

"just because you are sitting on my dick and on top of me doesn't mean you are in charge." chuuya smirked and when your glare didn't falter and you continued doing so, chuuya snickered before humming lazily.

"fine, if you think you are such a big girl, go on and fuck yourself on my cock." he emphasized his words by thrusting upwards into you and the new, first time feeling along with the way it was done so suddenly had you moaning in pleasure, body leaning to fall forwards on chuuya's chest.

chuuya peeked down at you to make sure his thrust didn't hurt you but when he saw you staring at him with half lidded eyes, he couldn't help but laugh mockingly, bringing his hand to pinch your cheek.

"not glaring anymore, are we? was this it? you needed to be fucked to be put in your place?" chuuya patted your cheek and smirked, "ride me."

it wasn't a suggestion or a loving and thoughtful gesture of him like it was before but a demand which left no room for argument, not that you would be trying to do so as you wanted to feel more of him, the warm dick between your walls and the way his thrust made you almost close your eyes felt nice, felt addicting and you grew greedy to want more.

chuuya grabs your hips again to pull you back in a sitting position on his dick and waited before you finally began to move up and down his dick. sure, the rhythm was off beat and the movements you made were slow and not precise but it didn't matter for the euphoria settling in him is something he felt before only once maybe -- the first time he had shifted to the area you lived in and befriended you, at that time he felt satisfied with himself to know he isn't going to be a sore thumb or an outcast, that he has a cute girl and her brother his age to keep him company and help him get familiar with the area. but the satisfaction now is not of the same category except the fact that both these feelings were stimulated when you were near him.

right now, the way your walls are squeezing his dick and suffocating it makes up for your sloppy movements, the epiphany of being this intimate with the girl who he once only touched in his dreams is making this way more satisfying then any of the other nights he had with anyone else.

you moaning his name is what snapped him out of his daze, he looked down at you to smile to see that you found the pace which you are the most comfortable in and it's way better then what you were doing in the beginning.

a moan left your lips and got tangled with the groan that chuuya released as he continued to look up at you, cheeks blushing, eyes wide and taking in every inch of your tits jiggling and the way he had to tighten his grip on your hips to stabilize you on him.

as you went up and down on him, your slick coated his length more and more made it easier to move but the burn on your thighs after some time couldn't be ignored, you weren't used to this and chuuya decided to take matters into his hands when he felt your pace slowing down.

"can't even trust you to fuck yourself. guess i have to teach you how to ride a dick huh, oh what a cutie." chuuya cooed as he found himself filled to the brim with adoration but when he felt it overflowing, the adoration transformed into lust.

you closed your eyes as chuuya grabbed you by your curves, lifting you up a bit as he adjusted himself beneath you to be in a position where he could look at you without having to lift his head much (he had placed two pillows beneath his head to do so) and began to thrust upwards into you after immediately making you take all of him.

you moaned out loud as you digged your nails into your palms as chuuya's pace seemed to increase with each passing second and you felt as if there is not even as much as a second for you to breath.

your lower abdomen is where the pleasure started before it surged through your entire body, chuuya's hands on your waist were sure to leave bruises but it didn't matter at the moment when he kept on trying to grope the flesh his greedy fingers could find.

chuuya had you sitting on him with his knees behind to support you from falling, the wetness only seemed to make the sound of his balls slapping against your asscheeks reverberate in the room. chuua grabbed your thigh before parting your leg a bit so he could hit more precisely.

you looked at chuuya to see him glaring down at your jiggling tits with narrowed eyes as he tried to find something -- you don't know what but he looked focused on whatever he is trying to do. you looked over your shoulder at your tied up hands and when you looked back at chuuya again, he flicked your clit which made you moan loudly.

chuuya placed his hand on your back, just barely above your ass as he pushed you forward so you could be laying on him.

chuuya looked down to see your tits squeezed against his chest and he gathered a glob of saliva before spitting it on your chest, a breathless moan left his mouth when he saw his saliva trail down the valley of your breasts. he pressed his hands on your asscheeks to push you against him and raised one of his hands to grab the back of your thigh to push your leg apart and as he thrusted after doing so, you felt his tip graze the spongy wall that had you crying out in pleasure.

the thrust which follows the first one had more impact as it made sure to hit against your spot, making you curl your toes and arch your back. your tits pressed against his chest more in the process of doing so and so did your walls which clenched his dick, chuuya moaned closing his eyes and thrusting again.

you are the one having your first time with him yet why does he feel as if it's the opposite? he never felt like so.

chuuya slowly opened his eyes and what greeted his sight is a picture he will keep alive in his head till the next time he gets to have his hands on you -- your eyes closed as you laid on his chest, lips parted and he could see you drooling a bit and oh, chuuya felt his breath getting stuck in his throat.

he raised his hand to caress your cheek before pinching it and pulling you towards him using it, kissing the tip of your nose. this gesture made you clench around him and chuuya's eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he was pounding into you roughly, mercilessly and being animalistic, he used your shirt tied on your wrists to control you, pushing and pulling you to find all the different angles that'll have you milking his cock.

as he pulled you back to sit on him with the help of your shirt, you leaned a bit so your clit could be pressing against his pubis, your head tilted back and oh, chuuya widened his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he only increased his pace to feel his cock struggle with the way your walls are clenching so hard around it, your body shakes and even with chuuya's hands around your waist, he can't help but grin at your unstable state.

"chuuya, chuuya, let me touch you -- ah, chuuya!" you cry out his name desperately as his abuse to your cunt continued before you finally released a high pitched moan while experiencing your very first orgasm due to something which aren't your fingers but your fingers don't feel so good and if it weren't chuuya, you are sure this orgasm wouldn't feel so good as well.

you breath heavily before feeling your breath hitching, eyes opening wide when chuuya who had slowed down his pace while you were coming off your high, increases it suddenly again, his balls tightening and so was his grip on your waist, he is close too, your cum is definitely being a additional yet very much appreciated lube.

so this is maybe why he didn't pick up his ringing phone from the nightstand as he pounded into you, moaning and running a hand through your hair as he whispered praises to you.

"y-your pho --" you weren't able to complete your sentence when chuuya pushed you back to sit on him using the restraint on your wrist, his other hand raised to harshly squeeze your tit between his fingers.

"who cares? whoever is calling can wait, fuck, doll." chuuya hissed as ropes of white shooted out of his cock and creamed your walls, his thrusts turned sloppy but didn't stop.

and when they did, chuuya raised himself on his elbows to check who called him but he stopped midway, his hand hovered just above his phone when you grinded against him shakily, panting and body trembling.

"chuuya." your half lidded eyes stared at him and this was all chuuya needed before he is abandoning his phone to flip you on the bed, getting on top of you.

"spread your legs wide doll, let me see my pussy."

━━━━━━━ 💋 part two.

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kakashixhatakesxwhore · 9 days

Text

Love Language Headcanons

What I imagine the love languages of Iruka, Kakashi, Itachi (w bonus Hashirama and Madara) to be. GN!Reader, until Madara.

Warnings: lil bit of sexism from Madara (nothing new), fluff, lmk if this sucks

Masterlist💿

Iruka

Words of Affirmation

While he's giddy around lunchtime when he sees the note you left in his box, Iruka much prefers to hear the words of love come from your lips

After a long day, sharing his knowledge and wrangling children, the only thing on Iruka's mind is the sweet, little nothings you would soon be whispering against his ear as you two lay in embrace

Some nights, Iruka would even be known to fall asleep before dinner, in your arms, lulled and comforted by your tone and your words

There's something in the constant reminders of your love for him that keeps him spry, his adventurous spirit engaged

With every syllable of 'forever', Iruka can feel his heart thrum in his chest

Likewise, he will be the first to compliment every outfit, any touch of makeup, or even just your sleep-coated face in the early mornings - he wants you to hear his voice every time you look into a mirror, praising you and adoring you

Nothing will ever stop Iruka from telling you exactly how he feels in a given moment, no audience or situation too embarrassing

In fact, he adores telling you how devoted he is to you with an audience - he wants everyone to know you are completely and utterly his, and he goes weak in the knees when you return his words

Kakashi

Physical Touch

When you're sitting with him, his hand is lightly gripping your thigh, reminding you and everyone else who you came with

He finds he cannot walk without touching you, his arm needs to be over your shoulders or your arm locked into his - even when moving through a crowd, Kakashi will hold onto a bit of your clothing as to not lose you

Every night is spent completely tangled together, a jumbled mess of legs and arms, in and out of the sheets, with you practically on top of him

Even while asleep, if you roll away, Kakashi will lock his arms around your waist, pulling you close for a warm cuddle

He's always kissing you while you're within the sanctity of your shared home, and when he's not, he's rubbing his nose against yours, putting his forehead against yours, or nuzzling against your cheek

Will come to the bathroom with you, if you let him, just to sit on the edge of the tub and shoot the breeze while you pee

Never stops getting tingly and bashful when you touch him, especially in public, so aware of the declaration of together-ness that your touch brought

Kakashi cannot stand when someone else touches you, even your close friends - he's got quite the jealous edge, and you know his hands will be all over where the other person touched you, soon, vying to erase the memory of another from your skin

Itachi

Quality Time

He hasn't got a lot of spare time on his hands, but he feels like he might go insane if he doesn't spend every available second with you

The kind memories warm Itachi in the cold nights, so he is especially keen on making a million with you

Comfortable silence is common, which relaxes Itachi immensely

He wants to be with you fully every time you are together - reading is fun, but he prefers to do anything that distracts from you at, quite literally, any other time

Knowing his hours were numbered, Itachi curses the universe for letting the time spent with you slip away like sand in an hourglass

I suppose time flies when you're having fun, and he has never had such an abundance of fun as when he's by your side

Any activity is a good activity when done together, even ones that Itachi didn't particularly enjoy like laundry or mending clothes - he found he could watch paint dry with you and still enjoy himself thoroughly

Lingers heavily when it's time to say goodbye; he can't do it if he doesn't need to it

Itachi plans three months in the future at the crack of dawn - he can't help but try to optimize the length of the periods he spends with you, somehow being able to schedule entire days to be together

Hashirama

Gift-Giving

Knows exactly what you want, in what colour, in what shape, in what size - to the exact dot.

Hashirama can think of no better way of proving his love for you than proving he knows your material desires inside and out

Some way, some how, he never runs out of ideas of things to get you, and absolutely no price is too steep for something he knows you'll love

His favourite part of showering you in presents is the face of shock and sheepishness, telling you he would go to the Edge of the World if it had the only tree with the fruit you craved

Enjoys giving you things that can be used by both of you, like books, rare spices, hair products, but loves giving you things to wear

Who else can procure a silk dress, with yards of intricate embroidery? Who else can find jewels so large and sparkly? Only Hashirama, thusly marking you as his to anyone with working eyes

But truly, your favourite gifts aren't the adornments, or spices, or a massive house - the gifts that truly enraptured your heart were the handmade cards and drawings Hashirama spent hours perfecting for your eyes only

Madara

Acts of Service

While Madara rarely humoured you with a walk through the sunflower fields, he would consistently ensure that you could go through life without the slightest hint of discomfort

He'll make you a tea in the morning, bringing it to you with a gentle shake of the shoulder to wake you up - it's how you start every day, with a small smile and a steamy drink, reminded that Madara would strive to wake you like this even if the world were actively burning

Going both ways, Madara deeply enjoys it when you prepare dinner for him, and will pitch in with the dishes to show you that he was truly thankful

Women's duties are women's duties, but Madara would do anything you asked of him without hesitation within your home (in public, he'd be much more conscious, however helping you as much as he could while still saving face)

Dotes on you entirely - if you told him you wanted the sky to turn fuchsia, he would be taking to the God of the Skies in an instant

Half the time, you don't even need to ask Madara to do something for you, it'll already be done, and done so perfectly you would be left with no question as to who did it

Every thank you, to Madara, is like you asking for something else, and he will tear the world to shreds until it is just to your liking

#iruka umino #kakashi hatake #itachi uchiha #hashirama senju #madara uchiha #iruka x reader #kakashi x reader #itachi x reader #hashirama x reader #madara x reader #naruto fanfiction #headcanon #headcanon list #love language

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actual-changeling · 4 months

Text

the true weight of aziraphale's words only hits him days later, when the shock has worn off and the world no longer looks vivid-sharp and fragmented.

just like the old times, only even nicer, and back in the bookshop, hearing him say it for the first time, the heaven underneath it all had ripped him open. now, though, with heavy limbs and their respective speeches burned into his brain, syllable after syllable, it's the second part that re-opens those very same wounds.

was this not nice? he wants to ask him, the walls, fucking god herself—or scream, rather, he has grown rather fond of screaming—because he thought it had been, their life on earth. nice and soft and messy, full of arguments, yes, but also nights of laughter and shared heat. graveyard walks and afternoons in the park, eating at the ritz, feeding the ducks, basking in everything alive so they could feel alive, too.

crowley would have given him almost everything, followed him almost everywhere except the one place aziraphale wanted him to return to. after six thousand years, he had finally found the only thing crowley refused to give up—his freedom.

inch by inch, he had clawed his way out of hell and through more pain than he will ever be able to name, and the scars, the burn marks, the fresh air in his lungs are worth it, always have been and always will be. no longer an angel, never again, but not a demon either; he's been on his own side since the beginning.

crowley has thought of his existence as a shared one—theirs—but maybe, with his eyes opened and the truth bitter in his tongue, maybe they'd led two lives after all. one full of magic and fairy tales for aziraphale in which polishing away every spot and destroying every flaw would eventually create a perfect 'us'. he wanted to take him right back to the start, when mistakes didn't exist, when crowley didn't exist.

yet crowley, despite what he regularly told his plants, the mirror, himself, had never been chasing after something they did not have. love is just as flawed and messy as life, and he basks in traffic jams and cloudy days, in existing as his own person without any affiliation, occult, ethereal, or otherwise.

he had never wanted them to be perfect, just undeniably real. in the end, even that was too much to foolishly hope for, a lesson once learned branded into his skin anew:

ask and you shall lose.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #hey do you ever cry so hard your body stops being able to do so and then write trauma angst because you'll never guess what happened to me

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markscherz · 10 months

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This might be a weird question but I can't think of a better person to ask! My nibling recently came out as non-binary and wants to change their name, but they're struggling to find something they are happy with.

They were given a feminine name at birth and are currently using a masculine name, but aren't happy with either of them. Every human name that's suggested to them is either too masc, too femme, or has poor associations. However, they love frogs, so I wondered if that might be a solution.

I've tried to find frog names that might work as a human name, but so far I'm not having much luck. It's not allowed to start with R or J, and apparently it's not allowed to have an X in it because nibling thinks they're "not cool enough" to carry that off (I've tried explaining that they're wrong, but 16 year olds are very sensitive).

If this isn't too weird a question, can you think of any frog or toad names that might be manageable as human names? We live in the UK for reference

So many thanks for even reading this giant info dump 💕

Wow this is only the second time I have gotten to help find a name for a human. What an honour.

Okay firstly, sounds 100% like your nibling is cool enough to use an X (despite my current negative emotions associated with the letter due to the Elongated Muskrat), and there are some *amazing* names out there with X's in, so they should at least consider them. Scinax and Ixalus for instance are great. Ixalus has a fun history: originally it was coined as a replacement name for Orchestes, which wasn't available because there was already a beetle genus called Orchestes. But then it turned out that Ixalus was *also* not available, because the world's most beautiful antelope, the bongo, was already called Ixalus. Only, the bongo had already been called Tragelaphus. So now Ixalus isn't the name used for *any* animal. Ixalus is Greek, meaning 'bounding, springing, spry'. Also there are numerous other frog genera that use the ending -ixalus, such as Heterixalus, Micrixalus, etc.

But, taking the lack of X seriously, here are some other alternatives. I will avoid names that are derived from other people's names, and focus on names that have a neutral ring to my ear, and are also euphonious (nice to say or hear) and fewer than four syllables. I am also only considering genus names, because there are too many species names to choose from:

Acris — meaning sharp, sour, bitter, pungent, sharp, keen, acute, energetic, eager, etc. Technically this is the feminine version of the adjective; the neuter version is Acre, but I do not think anyone would read 'Acris' and immediately think either gender. It is supposed to be pronounced with a long a, as in 'hard', but a lot of people pronounce it with a hard a as in 'ace'. This name is most familiar to Americans, because Acris are cricket frogs, widespread in the US.

[Acris crepitans, src]

Mantis — of course, the genus Mantis was coined by Linnaeus in 1758, and so it is unambiguous that this is not a frog name. However, it is very often used as part of frog taxonomic names, such as Chiromantis, Boehmantis, Guibemantis, Gephyromantis, Phlyctimantis etc. Mantis is Greek (μάντης), and means oracle, prophet, soothsayer, seer, clairvoyant, or fortune teller. The name has the feminine gender in its language of origin, but that has no bearing on its use, which, barring the character in the Marvel movies, does not seem particularly gendered to me.

[Pristimantis cruentus, src]

Dasypops — simply a delightful name, but probably not neutral enough. I have not been able to figure out what the etymology is; it might be a play on Dasypus, the Greek word meaning 'rough-footed', which is a genus of armadillos. The frog is also spectacular, but there are no photos I can legally share on tumblr.

Kaloula — a euphonic name with an unclear meaning. Very round frogs. I love them.

[Kaloula pulchra, src]

Adelotus — means 'unseen'. These are 'tusked frogs'. Males have crazy extensions of lower jaw bones, and they fight with them.

[Adelotus brevis, src]

Taruga — a Sanskrit name meaning 'tree climber'. I fucking love this name, and the frogs are just *chef's kiss* POINTY, and have really committed to bold colours.

[Taruga eques, src]

EDIT: I have been informed that taruga means ‘blockhead’ or ‘numb skull’ in Spanish, so it might not be the best choice. Sorry!

If the nibling would like to check out a list of genera themselves, there is a tolerably complete list here.

I hope this helps!

#frog #frogs #frogs and toads #names #animals #nonbinary #answers by Mark #annamelia-art #herpetology #I guess

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chaosandmarigolds · 1 month

Text

Among the Bullets

Chapter 1, part 1

Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, bear with me)

When someone would look over your file they would be met with a nice and normal, average-looking citizen, who took over your father's Machine Shop at the age of sixteen when he passed away, went to trade school and then university for engineering on scholarship. The worst law you ever broke was speeding, it was clean, neat, and tied up with a bow. Then came when you were invited to be a console on a Military operation, and somehow that kept being a habit; you were a vital person in many operations.

Clean file. Looked good on paper.

“Bullshit!” Simon snapped at Price as he tossed the file onto the oak desk, giving his captain a disapproving glare (as if he could look any different). “A civilian?”

Price sat down at his desk, leaning back in the chair and looking over the file that now sat in front of him, the emblem on the folder like a haunting mark of the mechanic's impending doom. With a shrug of his shoulders, he lifts his gaze to the lieutenant. He was well aware was less than pleased but the order was over his head, even if he did agree that it was risky and it would only deter their efforts, he had no choice but to allow it and pray to whatever God there was that no one would be killed, “Listen it’s and in an out op, the kid’s been on the field before.”

Simon grumbled pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked at the captain, almost having to strain his eyes to see it through the darkness. Sure he had seen consoles come onto the team for certain operations, but not for this type of one, not one that would require this much attention to detail, not one that would be risky even for him. Then atop of the already risky mission, he would have to babysit some knee-weak mechanic, and lord knew he would be dumped with them because no one else would even give them a second thought- it was idiotic. And he would be sure to tell Price about his opinions.

“What ‘bout protocol? The ranks? To even know the task force exists is clearance nine!”

“Since when have you ever given a shit about protocol?” Price retorted and then stood back up, picking up the file and looking it over, “Full scholarship to MIT, been in the field for over ten years, girl’s a borderline genius. Like it or not she’s comin on and guess what? For the lip you get to greet her.”

“Not babysittin it.”

Price narrowed his gaze and glanced up at Simon, almost amused by the man’s harsh words, “Oh? Now you get to show ‘er to her bunk.”

Simon let out an exasperated laugh, almost in shock by it all. He was being downgraded to a babysitter, something any rookie could do with easily, something so very below his paygrade, “Make Johnny be the welcome wagon, ‘etter at it.”

“No, you’re doin it.” He tapped the folder and then held it out for the lieutenant to take, not bothering to make his expression even look pleased, so when the man reluctantly took the file he spoke again, his voice growing more annoyed with each syllable. “Get a move on, she’ll be here within the hour.”

With a grunt Simon looks down at the file and turns on his heel, mind whirling at how stupid all of it was, how stupid of a mission they had to go on was, how stupid whoever chose to put some random mechanic on the team was, how stupid Price was for making him be the stupid wagon. Well, replace stupid with much cruder words and maybe quite a few insults, and then it would accurately describe his mental dialogue. Just as he reached the door of the office he heard Price call his name and for some reason, not for some reason there was reason, he thought about ignoring him. With a sigh, he turned about halfway to assure his captain he had his attention.

“Don’t scare her, need her for this op.”

‘Don't scare her’ he mentally mocked as he walked through the base, almost laughing at the choice of wording, there is nothing he did better than scare people. It was a part of his MO so of course he would scare whatever mechanic they deemed fit to come onto the team. Hopefully, for his sake and theirs, he would be able to scare them off before the mission happened.

“It’s been forty-seven hours, I’m tired, I’m dirty, and I’m hungry,” Your words were mainly to yourself as the random solider handed you the duffle bag you had oh so perfectly packed, and you tell just by how lopsided the weight was that it had been ransacked. You had just spent the last two days in a carrier, only stopping twice to get fuel for the craft and you weren't even allowed to look outside because that was ‘above your clearance’ to know where you were and no one offered any food and you were stupid enough to think you would have some sort of meal provided on the trip. So, your grumble was more of a plead for food, or somewhere to take a nap, instead, you were met with your bag to your chest and no response.

With a hum you walk off the hangar, the base itself was bustling, people all within their own heads and no one even knew you existed, which may be for the better because you felt like a fish out of water. You had been told that someone would be there to give you more information but you were currently standing with a bag at your feet, no phone, no reference for anything, and a lot of panic pooling in your gut. Sure, you were smart, socially well, you got along well with others but…You hated when you felt out of place, so standing there well it might as well be your worst nightmare.

When you hear your last name hissed from behind you you close to trip over your own feet to look behind you, only to slightly wish you didn’t. Growing up you were of average height, and a strong build and you felt pretty alright with your stature- yet at that moment you had never felt so small to put it simply. The man before you looked the part you assumed he was, a soldier, one who probably had…issues judging by the skull mask and the black clothes, or maybe he just never outgrew his emo phase.

“Oh.” You couldn’t keep the small squeak from your throat from coming out and you tuck your hand under your arm to pull off your glove, holding out your hand as you forced a smile to introduce yourself. The man before you just eyed you put down and then held out a tablet for you to take. So, you nod and take it, “Okay…cool? What is this?”

“Your schedule for the next week and a half.” He quipped harshly and then began to walk off, getting about halfway across the hangar before he realized you were simply not following and he stood still, “Civil!” Simon heard you let out a small ‘oh!’ and then approaching footsteps as if you ran over to him

Simon's gaze remained impassive as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your simple outfit and unassuming demeanor. There was something about you that piqued his curiosity, which for whatever reason he found more unsettling than anything else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something that drew his attention, even as he looked away there was the faint growing feeling that he needed to look back- which was disgusting and foreign and he hated it so he resisted it with all of his might.

"We'll meet the rest of the team tonight," Simon stated, his tone clipped and businesslike as he continued to walk towards one of the main halls.

"Okay, and…," your voice trails off as you look through the schedule and then bite back a laugh as you see how…well scheduled it was, not a minute was left for anything, even your nightly schedule was not your own (something you will be ignoring) and you nod. "That is at 17:30 thank you, Lieutenant Riley."

“How do you know that?”

Your head shoots up and look at him and you let out a small hum, realizing your error by addressing him by a name you really shouldn’t have known you look down at the tablet again, so with a nervous tic of clearing your throat your gaze lowers to the tablet again,“C…Can I plead the fifth to that?”

“No.” His words left room for silence until he reached the quarters, the one that used to be an office so the bed was only a pull-out sofa and by far it was the closest to the garage, and he could tell by your confused stare up at him that you were baffled on why he stopped walking and he motioned to the door. “Yours.”

“I get my own room?” The lightheartedness to your slightly ecstatic quip was met with a lifeless stare and you nodded, opening the door with a laugh following your sigh, “This is so cool! Usually, when I work for the military they put me in the barracks-” You spin around to see him with a beaming smile upon your expression, “Thank you.”

Unshokcingly all you were met with was a nod and then being left to your own unpacking, so you nod and then move to close the door. Not that you needed to unpack, afterall you would be on base for about a week and a half, and then your little ‘mission’ and then you would be free to go home. This would be easy. Super…easy, right?

;

“Tha’ little thing??” Johnny interrupted with a flabbergasted look on his face, almost falling over from the next punch Simon landed on the boxing bag he had supposed to be holding steady, sure he knew they were getting a consult but- “She’s gunna die.”

Simon looks at him from the boxing bag, holding out his hand to steady it, “No shit.”

“Cap’n okay with it’?”

A small pause and then Simon raises his fists again, “Don’t know. Meet ‘er tonight.”

I’m still new to this still, feed back would be sooo appericated!

Chapter 1, part two

#simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost x reader #cod x you #cod fluff #johnny cod #john price x reader #john price #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #ghost x you #ghost imagine #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

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maximumkillshot · 4 months

Text

I Can't Lose You-Part 12

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, mentions of doctors appointments, that's it!

Pairing: BangChan x Reader

Characters: All the boys except Chan, although Chan is mentioned, Reader

A/N: The reader needs a break!!! So here we are. This one is fluffy, it feels good to me. I hope you guys like it! Also, I am pretty sure I had two seizures in the last two days (At least). Thank you to everyone for being so patient. I will try to resume my Friday schedule. Thank you so much for your understanding and well wishes!!

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Bin POV:

“Everyone ready to go?” I asked. Early in the morning the psychiatrist came in to talk to Y/N. They asked me to come in for a few seconds with Han. They let us know that they really didn’t want her anywhere near the house and to stay with at least Han and I, but it was preferable for most if not all of us to be there for at least the first week. The trauma tied to the 3 Racha house is just too much at this point, the doctors were also worried about Chan making the recovery even worse than it already is. Y/N agreed wholeheartedly and with that she was given follow up appointments. Finally the latest blood tests came just before lunch and she was given a clean bill of health and an outpatient appointment for her OBGYN. Felix, Minho, I.N., and Hyunjin all went to the DanceRacha house to start prepping for us to head there. Felix texted me that he had a few surprises for her which made me smile, she needs a good surprise right about now.

I’m still worried about Y/N. The DanceRacha dorms are a good option, but I know that for me, I still have memories tied to Chris there. I’m wondering if that is exactly what she is thinking. I can’t help but worry about it. “Remember the deal with the doctors is for you to be away from that house and with your support system. Are you sure you don’t want a place of your own? I want you to be comfortable as you heal.”

“I don’t have the money for that,” Y/N smiled at me. It was a reassuring one, as if she could read my mind. She and I always had this connection. Whenever I was feeling down she would pop in to see how I was doing.

I remember one time, it was maybe 3am and I was working on lyrics. They were risky, going double the speed of the song's beat, the technique is called ‘double time’ in rapping. Fast spitting rappers do it all the time, think Eminem and Busta Rhymes. It was my first time attempting it and I contemplated each and every syllable like a landmine. Writing it wasn't the issue, it was being able to deliver it while dancing. Those syllables take up a lot of air, not to mention the brutality that comes with dancing and singing at the same time. Our steps aren't insanely difficult, but they definitely take up oxygen like no one's business. So I'd get up, do push ups, jumping jacks, burpees, anything to get my heart rate up to about what it would be when performing, then I'd try to deliver the lines. Doing this is always painful, your body is screaming at you to stop talking, hunch over, and gasp for air. Obviously, we can't do that, so we try our hardest to build endurance. Some are like Chan, who sing while doing cardio (which is insane, by the way, I felt like I was dying when I tried it), some are like LeeKnow, packing on layer after layer of heavy clothing before and during dance practice, forcing the body to exert itself so much that when all of those layers are off, each movement and breath is a breeze (also insanity to do. It feels like working out in a sauna with a weighted, heated blanket on you). Me? I brute forced it.

Anyway, Y/N noticed that I was really getting obsessed with these lyrics and doing them so that I was as close to the line of unhuman speed crossed with physical activity as possible. I'm the fastest rapper in the 4th generation and I wanted to show why I was. Y/N came into my room and said,“Binnie, you need to trust yourself. You know what's best, you have the best instincts I've ever seen. Remember, if you're about to dive in a pool, don't think about the height of the diving board, clear your mind, and jump in. Don't think, just do.”

Even now, through all of this, you would think that a bond like that would be weakened, seeing her like that would make some pull away. It just brought me closer. I am in awe of her. The sheer will to live. The tenacity. The beauty in her broken parts know no bounds. It reminds me of ruins from ancient civilizations. Seeing the beauty in what was, and marveling at what is left. Only the strongest parts are left, the essence of that civilization. She is beyond anyone I've ever seen. Her capacity to love is beyond comprehension.

That's why I am so happy to know her. To really know her. To be the person she reaches for, to ground herself. She trusts me to be there. And I will be. Simply because it’s an honor to love her. Money isn't an object for her.

“Money isn’t a problem, would you like to be in a place of your own?” I asked again. I would spend my whole paycheck on her if I had the chance. She deserves to be spoiled.

“I still want to be at the other dorm, it’s familiar. For some reason I feel safe there. Is that okay?” She asked, looking at Seungmin. Little did she know that we had been talking about this for a bit before she woke up. We knew that pushing this topic on her would be too much, but at the same time, from what Seungmin told me, the doctors were never going to release her to the same house that Chris is in.

Seungmin chuckled, “Birdie, it’s not a problem, you have never not been welcome at my dorm, you know this,” he deadpanned. It is true…all of the boys over that house would get so excited as soon as they heard Y/N was coming over. They’d want to spend the entirety of the visit with her, a lot of the time they would start to pout if they felt she wasn't spending enough time with them. So when the idea came up their eyes lit up. Anywhere she goes, I'm not going anywhere.

“Okay then it’s settled.” I smiled at her, combing a stray strand out of her face. I’m happy that she’s finally getting out of here. She has been through so much in such a short amount of time. She needs to be left alone. I am scared for her. I want her to be safe, and worries keep on popping in my head. How do I protect her? What if saesangs get a whiff that something is wrong? What if the company tried to force her to stay with Chris? What if she takes him back? That part hurt. Seeing how badly she was hurt simply because he was being an asshole. Simply because he treated a diamond like sand on a decrepit shore. The thought made me shake with rage as I looked at the woman in front of me, she looked at me with furrowed brows, that brought me back to her.

Y/N looked into my eyes at that moment, like she was tapped into my brain. She gave my hand a squeeze as she said, “Binnie? What's wrong, talk to me…” she shyly played with my fingers. Her touch was feather light given the bruises that formed on my knuckles. I wanted to tell her the truth about them. My impulse to be honest, making the words bubble in my throat. Right behind the truth of what I'm feeling.

I wanted to tell her I love you, I wanted to tell you for so long. The minute I met you I fell for you, your soft voice, your booming laugh, your corny jokes. All of it. Not just the you before but the you now. I know life is going to be hard for you, I want to be there. I want to stand next to you and catch you whenever you need to collapse. I will give you everything I have. You deserve to know what real love is. I know Chris isn't good for you. You don't need this pain, this heartache, you don't deserve to be treated like an option. You are the one and only person I ever loved and will continue to love for the rest of my life. I want you to be happy, and if it's not with me that's okay. I just want you to know that he isn't the only option. I am just one person, I am sure thousands of men would line up and down city blocks just to see you, let alone have a chance with you. Instead I said “ just thinking.”

There is a time and a place for everything. Telling her right now could confuse her more, make her feel like I just want something from her. That couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. The fact that she has been used like this and thrown to the side, expected to all of a sudden tolerate the people that did that to her.

I saw the opportunity to draw attention away and I took it as I said “Seungmin, you have everything?” “Yeah, we should be ready to go soon,” he said as he kept packing all of the random hoodies that were used as pillows when we stood overnight with her. It's been years since most of us slept in the same room as the others. Every few hours a nurse would come in to check on Y/N, sometimes startling her. Everytime that happened Seungmin and I would wake up. We aren't light sleepers in particular, but it was more reflexive than anything. The nurse would quietly remind her that she's safe and all of her boys are with her. No one is going to hurt or sneak up on her. It'd still take a little time for her to go back to bed. Seungmin and I would refuse to even close our eyes until her heart rate went back to resting and her body would be completely relaxed and limp.

Now that things are starting to simmer down I am wondering why Seungmin had this reaction. He's been very strong through it all and he is even going against his nature of just observing. I am wondering what it is that I don't know. I just want to be filled in. Seungmin isn't known for physical affection, instead opting for annoying people he loves until they inevitably get closer to the edge of insanity. It's an odd way to show love, but Seungmin has never been known for traditional methods.

So why is it that he’s calling her pet names and smiling at her that way? Did he always smile at her like that? It’s so comforting, almost endearing. More than anything she is sharing the look. Something definitely happened but I have no clue what.

“Angel, you have all the appointments and all of that?” I looked back to her and she smiled at me saying, “Yup, I just want out of here. It’s been crazy. I just want to cuddle with my boys and watch a movie.” I could feel the sincerity in her words.

It wasn’t too long after that when Han came with the wheelchair saying, “You’re chariot awaits.” I am still really worried about her. She still says the cramps are no joke. Her cravings are still everywhere too. When she asked the attending about it they explained that her body is still going to have those pregnancy cravings for at least a few more weeks. I could see the hint of sadness in her features when hearing that. The only thing I could imagine herself feeling is that it’s another reminder. A reminder of what could’ve been.

On our way to the house I could feel her excitement ramp up. I could hear her giggles as she listened to the radio. She waited and bounced at the redlights. I looked behind me and I saw everyone else in the car smiling lopsidedly as she giggled. Y/N wasn’t known for very big displays of excitement unless it was for something that she really really wanted or missed having.

I could see the color in her face, knowing that if Hannie and I didn’t do what we needed to do, this would not have been the case. Instead, I get to see her smile, feel her laugh a little more, and be thankful for every moment, I always was but now? It’s like I have a deeper love for her. She was already a part of me, but now she is like a vital organ, as odd as it sounds.

As I was in my own thoughts I heard a song play, it was one that I knew she loved. Immediately I felt her hand grab mine, which was on the shared arm rest. Usually if she wanted the armrest she would just nudge me until I relented and shared, but this was different. She laid her arm on top of mine, her hand interlocking with mine as she sang along to the song. I couldn’t help but think it belonged there. Touches are a part of her expression of comfortability. It’s how she communicates, which I happen to know all too well. This had more weight to it somehow. She felt like she knew that no matter what she’d be safe. Which was and still is true.

When we pulled around the corner we were met with balloons in her favorite color on the doorstep. Her eyes lit up as she said, “What’s this?” I just shrugged as I said, “I don’t know, Lix told me that he was up to something but I didn’t really know what.” As soon as we parked Y/N bounced as she waited for one of us to come around and help her.

I think that she was surprised at the fact that we had done anything, period. I know that she has a complex. She tends to feel like she isn’t worth the time. That was something that she told me in confidence one night. Every night she would cry herself to sleep for the better part of 2 and a half years. Hannie and I did not catch it until we started spending weekends with her.

One night I heard whimpering from their room, when I knocked I heard sniffles. I gently pushed the door open, I found her curled in a ball, crying looking at her phone. When I asked her what was wrong she just handed me the phone. On it was a text thread.

Y/N: hey are you coming home? It’s Friday and I wanted to watch a movie with you. Channie❤️: Not this again, Y/N. I’m working, I don’t have time for this. Y/N: You promised you’d take some days off every week, so you don’t burn out. You even said that those days are our days. Channie❤️: Y/N the more you talk to me the longer I have to be in the studio. So you are causing me to be away longer because you can’t be patient. Y/N: I haven’t seen you in weeks, Channie. You are always gone, I miss you and I feel alone… like you don’t care. Channie❤️: bingo! You are right. I don’t care. My phone is getting turned off. Maybe then you’ll get the message that I don’t have time for you. Get some sleep, trust me, don’t wait up.

I held her all night that night, I dried her tears as she clung onto me for dear life. Like I said before, her love language is touch, so to literally be starved of that for weeks from her husband made me feel enraged. More than anything, I wanted to make her comfortable.

I wrapped her in a fluffy blanket of which I called ‘the Y/N burrito’. Then I picked her up while she giggled and placed her on the couch. We watched whatever she wanted. Early into the morning she started craving her favorite snack so we went out in pajamas, got the snacks, and had a movie marathon. It’s one of my favorite memories with her. She started off that night crying and ended it safe in my arms, snacks surrounding her as credits rolled on the T.V.

I brushed her hair back as I stared at her sleeping so peacefully on the couch. The credits created a dim and timid light as I wiped the chocolate from the corners of her mouth. It was about 6am when Chris walked in. He looked annoyed and just walked past us as if we were ghosts.

I recounted this as I saw the balloons, thinking that whatever is inside, she is going to love it.

Han was first to grab her. When Seungmin unlocked the door with the overnight bags slung over his shoulder we could hear a little gasp and some talking. Han held her hand as we walked.

“This is so sweet you guys didn’t have to,” she stopped at the balloons, looking at them as if they were the most precious diamonds she has ever seen. Then when we walked in she started sniffling.

Sitting on the couches were 6 pillow sized plushies, and one giant plushie. Y/N loves plushies, their textures calm her. What got her to cry though, was what each of them represented. The one giant plushie was an angel. The other 6 were a lioness, a crown, a bird, a sunflower , Anya, and the National flower of Korea, the mugunghwa, the symbol of eternal beauty, that one has to be Minho’s.

I have no clue where he even found some of these. Especially the lioness, that one represented I.N.’s nickname for her. Whenever anyone tried to mess with us he always said, “if you think the wolf is bad wait until the lioness hears about this.”

She started crying, “they…. They’re all my nicknames. The ones you gave me.” She immediately went to the angel and grabbed it, hugging it tightly as she cried.

My heart broke and swelled at the same time. She should never have to feel like anyone is going to abandon her. It makes me so sad to know that she was so scared of losing us. All because of one foolish and egotistical man. He deserves nothing, especially not her love. Yet she loved him anyway. That is the type of person that she is.

Felix came up to her and said, “I figured if one of us had to go out and you missed us, now you’ll have a piece of us with you. You won’t be alone, and we’ll always come back to you. So when we leave, you can hold on to them really tight and know that soon we’ll be there.” I could see the tears about to leave his eyes.

If anyone was able to do something this sweet for Y/N, it would be Felix. The way that he cares for her, comforts her, it’s like they share one mind. He knows that she loves plushies. Ones that are so soft she can just sink into them. Chris never really liked too many things in his room. So he always discouraged her from decorating with plushies. He also felt that, although they were cute, they had no place in an adult’s bedroom. Especially not a leader’s bedroom. Most of her plushies found residence in my room.

I had no problem holding onto them for her and sometimes she would even decorate my room with them. Every movie night, before Hannie and I came home, she would grab the plushies and throw them on Han’s bed. She’d decorate with them, with Hannie’s favorite holding a bag of Hannie’s snacks. She’d also have her favorite, she named it Ollie, and Gyu on the bed, with popcorn in the middle.

That always made me smile. That wherever Ollie went, so did Gyu. Whenever I would sleep in the same bed with her, I would grab Ollie and Gyu. One night she asked if she could hold Gyu for a bit. Usually I don’t let anyone touch him, but she isn’t anyone. Without hesitation I handed her Gyu and she handed me Ollie. I remember hearing her sigh with comfort as she talked to Gyu about me. How lucky Gyu must be to fall asleep next to me every night. She thanked him for comforting me and for allowing me to sleep soundly. Even on every tour, she would pack Ollie and Gyu for me to sleep with. The first time she did it, she wrote a note with it. ‘I’m going to miss you, but so is Ollie. I may not be able to go with you but Ollie can! Sleep well, have a great tour, I’ll see you soon Binnie!-Angel.’

She looked up at Felix, released the angel, and hugged him as she whimpered a bunch of tiny little “thank you’s” into his chest. I think she realized that all of us know that she is scared. We may not say it but we do. We know and we all love her so much. We are here for her. Even if we may not be there in person, there is no place we would rather be than being with her.

Felix held her and pulled back after a few minutes. He wiped her tears and he said, “come on sit, take a load off. The brownie batter is almost done… unless you want to help?” He smirked at her.

She practically dragged Felix to the kitchen and Minho yelled, “Yah, I’m not done in here!” She giggled and asked what he was doing. I came into the kitchen to see Minho tying tenderloin together. She was watching curiously as he worked. He said, “it is your first day home and we should celebrate that. I’m making beef wellington, and don’t worry I left out the mushrooms, replaced it with onions and carrots for you.”

“Really? Thank you Minho! This is going to be the best dinner, thank you!!” She bounced and kissed him on the cheek. His ears turned red as he said, “okokok go over there with Lix’ you guys can have the oven first since this needs to chill,” he kissed her forehead right before she bolted to help Lix. I couldn’t help but giggle at her as she breathed life into the room.

I could see that she was really touched that he said, ‘your first day home’. Those words meant that now she is home. This is her space as well as theirs, that will never change. I could see her trying to hold back tears as she baked. Once things were baking Lix’ plugged in the switch and we had a blast playing games while we waited for dinner to come around. After everything was baked and made, we all sat down for a nice dinner, like we used to in the shared dorms.

Right before we all sat down Y/N smiled and said, “thank you. To all of you. This experience was hard. It was the hardest thing that I have ever been through to date. It’s because of all of you that I made it. All of you mean so much to me. The thing that really scared me after all of this was what would happen if I lost you guys? My boys. I cherish every single memory with each of you. I love you boys so damn much, you are all my family. Seeing what you did,” she looked at me and Hannie, “Being so strong. Crying with me, holding me through it all.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. Resisting the urge to nudge into it like I always do.

She looked at everyone else, “The fear that each of you must have felt. I know I wasn’t the only one mourning and coming to terms with things.” I saw her look directly at Seungmin for a split second and went back to scanning the table, “I want to thank all of you so much. This experience was horrific. Because of all of you, I made it out. I love you boys so much. Thank you for welcoming me home.” With that, she sat down and leaned into me, I could tell she was either too nervous or embarrassed.

As we were eating and laughing she looked around the table. I sat down right to her left and Hannie was on her other side. I could tell she was doing her best not to cry. I think it was the same for the boys. Two days ago that wasn’t the case. She was fighting for her life around this time. To think that we would all be here, together, a family. It made me want to cry. This is the family that she deserves. Everyone she loves, at home, on time, together. She was so happy and before dessert came out Hyunjin said, “Yongbok-ah phase 2.” Then Felix went running to his room. He came out with a giant comforter and plopped on the living room floor. He then ran to Minho’s room, grabbed his comforter and plopped it down as well. At that point I.N. said, “Movie time! Everyone on the floor!”

Immediately everyone moved to the living room and got a spot except for me. I was helping wash dishes with Minho. When I walked in I could see Minho tearing up as we heard her giggle. I patted his back as I said, “what can I do to help, hyung?” He just shook his head a bit and asked me to help him with the drying. By the time we were almost done with that I heard Y/N calling my name and asking me to sit. I told her that I had to change into my pajamas first and I could hear her ask Lix if she could change in his room quickly. He of course obliged.

Slowly but surely everyone started changing and pretty soon everyone was sitting on the comfy comforters. I didn’t really know where to sit and Y/N looked at me saying, “I know you aren’t thinking about sitting away from me.” I didn’t want to make it seem like she needed to be next to me all of the time, thinking that I would come off as clingy but it’s nice to know that she craves my touch as well.

I sat down right next to her and everyone’s faces had giant smiles. I looked at her and she smirked as she held onto my bicep curling into me. This is one of my favorite places to be. Just next to her as she clings onto me like a Koala.

She was giggling as Felix handed out the brownie sundaes and everyone got comfy. Y/N decided on a comedy for the first movie and out of nowhere she asked me, “You guys were never going to leave me, were you?”

I just smiled at her and said, “Not in a million years. We love you, we always will. Nothing and no one will get in the way of that.” She gave me an indication that she wanted to be closer so I lifted my arm up, that way she could scooch closer to me. I could feel the tears through my sleep shirt as I held her.

“Thank you for not leaving me.” She said as quietly as she could. The truth is, she is someone that I need, someone that we all need. She is a unique type of person. After about two movies most had abandoned the comforter pile. By the early morning it was just me and Y/N. We were laying down on her new plushies. She took her place on my chest. Much like that night from years ago, I wiped the chocolate from her face and watched her form as she slept, credits rolling on the T.V. I smiled as she slept. I kissed her forehead and she intertwined her leg with mine. A few minutes later we fell asleep, with the promise of better days ahead.

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