#hard to sign five finger words with two fingers lacking

[hinderr]

Okay okay one last one

#the mandalorian #grogu djarin #din djarin #hinderr art #role swap #hard to sign five finger words with two fingers lacking #ok i think my role swap rush is fading out. ill definitely answer asks but i prolly wont be drawing them like how ive been these past few #days. this is good news because i can go back to the gay people i was writing #god. when a father and a son find each other regardless of the circumstance. insane

[hihello-pinky]

Sight (3)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintarou had to learn this the hard way.

WARNINGS: mentions of abortion, mentions of suicide, smut (fingering, oral [f receiving], lack of protection, rough sex, creampie) please let me know if I missed any!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This in no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

WC: 6.3k Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort Other Tags: Forced Marriage, Developing Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Repressed, References to Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending, + more to be added.

Here’s the long-awaited part 3!. Thank you all for waiting and for the love and support!!! Kindly reblog and comment if you liked it! ALSO, I’m not sure how many parts are left.

part one part two part three part ?????

leave me love?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“I don’t know what game you’re playing with you agreeing to my parents’ crazy demands but just so we’re clear, there’s only one ending to this fucking marriage: divorce.”

Suna watched as you squirmed in your wedding dress. The two of you had just arrived at the new house, and he already hated it. First, he hated how he had just been forced into marrying a girl he barely knew. Second, he hated how you’re acting as if you’re the victim of the whole ordeal when this wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you just agreed to get an abortion.

And lastly, he despised how you looked so damn beautiful in that wedding dress.

The fidgety and nervous girl during his wedding night is nowhere to be seen as you’re standing in that very same room, your eyes looking straightly at him and your voice firm as you repeat, “I want to file for divorce.”

“I heard you the first time,” he responds as he clicks his tongue. “But I won’t do it.” He’s trying to be careful, unsure of where you’re actually getting at. A few nights ago, you just confessed about being in love with him and now you want to divorce?

A small laughter leaves your lips, regaining his attention. “Rin,” you call his name and as usual, hearing that one syllable from you stirs something inside him. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll talk to your mom and dad, and I’ve already spoken with the family lawyer. We can always co-parent.”

“No.” Maybe if he’s not busy getting annoyed about your mind game, he’d have noticed how your eyes are squinting, how your fingertips are slowly rubbing against your temple. “There will be no divorce unless you explain to me everything about this sudden shit you’re pulling.”

“Rintarou, -”

“I’m so damn tired, Y/N!” What surprises Suna is not his sudden outburst. It’s the quick realization that for the first time in five years, he’s addressing you by your name. “Are you playing with me? You confess, you make me feel guilty, you make me want to apologize, but now you want to divorce!”

You shake your head, hoping that the action will also help in easing your headache. “Why are you reacting like this, Rin? Isn’t this something that you’ve wanted since day one?”

It’s the same question he has for himself. Sure, he entered the room ready to apologize for the past years and maybe try for any way to salvage the relationship you both have, but here you were, offering him the easy way out and yet he doesn’t want to accept it.

Instead of answering you, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “Listen, I don’t know what shit you’re pulling but I’m serious when I say I’m not signing any papers unless you talk to me and explain what the hell’s going on.”

“Rin, I’m tired,” you say as you sit on the bed dejectedly. “I’m so, so tired.” Your voice breaks at the last word as you bring your knees to your chest, hugging it before beginning to sob. This isn’t the first time that he’s witnessing you cry but the way the sobs come out of you as if they physically hurt and how your body is shaking... it’s a sight that he does not want to see.

Other times he would have chosen to leave you alone and his mind is currently shouting at him to go back towards the door and leave the room but his body is doing the exact opposite – his feet bringing him closer to you. The next thing he knows, he’s crouching down in front of you at the bed, hands hovering over you but not touching. “What is it?”

As soon as the question leaves him, he feels silly. How were you supposed to answer him when the sobs wracking out of your body barely stop? Suna rakes a hand through his hair, unsure of what to do. He looks up at the ceiling in frustration. “Fuck, Y/N, tell me what’s the matter. Why the hell are you asking for a divorce out of the blue? Is this because of what happened a few nights ago?”

“I’m scared.” Your small voice surprises him. “I’m scared, Rintarou.”

He diverts his eyes back on you but your face is still buried behind your knees. “Look at me.”

He watches as you slowly acquiesce and the broken look on your face tugs at his heart. Your eyes resemble shattered glass and it’s as if all the broken shards are piercing through his chest at the moment. “I’m scared.” A hiccup. “I’m so damn scared.”

Suna shakes his head as he gazes at you, seemingly unable to break the eye contact despite the feelings it’s currently bringing him. “I don’t understand.”

Tears well in your eyes again as you begin to explain with a shaky breath. “I went to the hospital a few days ago to get checked about my recurring headaches and blackouts. I received the test results yesterday and they don’t look good. I’m so scared, Rintarou.”

Every word that escapes from your mouth makes his heart feel heavy. “Then why are you asking for divorce?”

You’re silent for a while as you break eye contact and he can tell that you’re carefully deliberating your words. The suspense is making him feel uneasy but he also knows he can’t force and rush you. “I’ve always known there’s a possibility that it would happen to me too. But then, Doctor Hirai said that its progression is mainly stress-induced. I need to be in an environment which will be better for my mental and subsequently, my physical health. More importantly, I’m scared that what I will go through will hurt the children in the long run.”

“So, you prefer that you’d suffer alone?” He asks without thinking.

At that, you turn to face him again and smile sadly. “I’d still suffer alone even if we remain married, right? At least once we separate, I’ll be in a much healthier environment. We won’t have to pretend in front of the children anymore. You’ll have your freedom and I’ll have my peace.”

Suna can feel himself frowning, knowing how there’s truth in what you just said. He sighs deeply before speaking, choosing his words carefully. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, his attempt frustrating him. In the end, he settles for three words instead. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

--- *** ---

Hearing those words from your husband makes your heart clench. You bite your trembling lower lip and close your eyes, finally letting the tears fall once again. You hated this. You hate having Rintarou see you cry.

What happens next surprises you. You feel gentle fingers wiping away your tears, the touch soft and delicate. You crack your eyes open and convince yourself you must be dreaming.

“I know this is long overdue and it can’t undo all the things I’ve put you through in the last few years, but I’m really, really sorry. For being a horrible person, for being a terrible husband, for being a bad dad... I’m sorry for what I did a few nights ago.”

You hear the unspoken truth from his last sentence: I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate your feelings. Instead of dwelling on it too much, you try to wipe your tears. “You weren’t much of a bad father,” you say and see how his eyes slightly widen in surprise. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate how you’re trying to be a good dad to the kids.”

A frown makes its way to your husband’s handsome features before he scoffs bitterly. It makes your heart clench. “Why do you have to be so kind?” He asks quietly and then looks at your face as if searching for something. “I’ve been such a horrible person to you and here you are, telling me that I wasn’t a bad father to our children.”

Your heart softens a bit at his words as new tears start to pool in your eyes. “I’m just speaking the truth, Rin.” He’s still studying your face and you look at his in return. This is the first time you’re both staring at each other like this again; the last being those five months that you two were on good terms. “It gives me comfort, knowing that you’ll continue to be a good dad to Risa and Ryuu once we separate.”

At that, the frown that has dissolved from his face returns, and in a much stronger note. “I still don’t think having a divorce is necessary. It will not do much and that word may even bring trauma to the kids.” It’s amazing how quickly you’re able to understand where Rin was coming from. And almost immediately, you’re brought back to that day.

You watched as Rin was almost done watering the newly-planted seedlings in the backyard. A week prior, you had shyly asked him if it’s okay to have a small garden and without much thought, he agreed. You wanted to do the task yourself but he had insisted he do it instead, saying something along the lines of Jiri scolding him if she ever finds out he let a pregnant woman do a laborious task.

So, there you sat on one of the newly-bought reclining chairs, watching as Rin worked. It’s been a few weeks since the both of you started to be on good terms and the more you got to know him, the more it became harder for you to ignore how handsome your husband truly was. Especially at that moment, with him wearing loose sweats and a thin plain white shirt, arms flexing as he held the watering host.

After more minutes of trying to distract yourself from staring at Rintarou, he turned the water system off and went to join you, taking the vacant recliner beside you. “It’s crazy how my parents didn’t even think of having some work done on the backyard, considering all the efforts that were made in the house’s interior.”

You looked at the backyard and imagined how it would look like once your garden blooms. “Maybe they wanted to at least give you the chance to decorate it as you want?”

He let out a dry laugh and then straightened on his seat. “Then, I want to have a small playground there.” You trailed where his finger was pointing and saw that he was referring to a corner of the yard.

“A playground?” you asked, surprised that he would even suggest one. You both had been careful with the topic about your children and what would happen after they were born, and this was the first time that he was bringing up something related to it.

“Just a slide and a swing set would do, to be honest.” His eyes were still trained on that same spot, as if he’s already picturing the item he’s planning to place there. You hummed in response, savoring the peaceful silence that was beginning to take over.

Rintarou was the one to break it. “Who in your family is a twin?”

You blinked at him in surprise. “Oh, um, my dad.”

He nodded, taking in the information. “And you have siblings?”

“Yes,” you answered softly. “Two step sisters. I’m the middle child.” He turned to you and as expected, there was question in his eyes already. “My mother died shortly after I was born. When I was around ten years old, my dad re-married.” You looked at the corner that Rintarou had pinpointed for the playground. “She was a lovely lady, my step-mom. I just wish my father had met her earlier. It would have been nice to grow up with both parents around.”

The scoff that left Rin’s mouth surprised you. It was your turn to look at him with curiosity. His jaw clenched a little before he spoke. “My parents were mostly absent while I was growing up. I’m an only child and since my parents both settled on a city away from their hometowns, I never got to develop a relationship with my other relatives and children in playgrounds never seemed fond of me.

“You know what the best part is?” He spat the word “best” and it almost made you flinch. “The times they would spend with me would always end up with them threatening each other to just divorce and I would just be there, having a front-row seat in watching their fights.”

He was silent after that as you stared at him. You couldn’t imagine the parents that Rintarou was referring to was the same sweet couple who apologized to you on behalf of their son during the first time you met. But then again, you knew part of the reason they forced the marriage was because they wanted to punish him. You picked your words carefully. “I couldn’t imagine how difficult that was for you. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Rin only shrugged. “Don’t worry. I got accustomed to it quickly. Whenever they would fight, I just had to show them some achievement from school and they’d be all happy and proud and forget that they were just about to rip each other’s heads off a few seconds before. It was an effective study tool, I guess.”

You frowned at his sarcasm, picturing a young Rintarou working hard on his studies, hoping to appease his fighting parents.  

You close your eyes as you try to compose yourself. No matter how long it has been, no matter how many times you remember that afternoon, the memory still hurts you. “Rin, I understand your sentiments and I don’t want to invalidate your feelings and experience. But you should know that it’s not the same situation. Weren’t you the one who told me that our marriage is supposed to end in divorce?”

He sighs frustratedly. “You know damn well that that was anger-driven. It’s not the same now. I care for the kids and I don’t want them to get hurt. I don’t want them to have the same relationship I have with my parents.”

You truly do understand your husband and you know he has his reasons. But so do you. And between the two of you, it’s a fact that you’re the one who cares more about your children. So, with a deep breath, you share the part of your explanation that you omitted earlier. “Rin, I’m about to lose my sight.”

--- *** ---

“I don’t understand, aren’t pregnant women only supposed to have cravings for food?” Suna asked as soon as the traffic light turned red. It was eight minutes past ten in the evening and you had just left the mall after completing a buzzer-beater shopping for an item that you swore won’t allow you go to sleep if it weren’t in your hands.

The item in question being a copy of your favorite author’s latest book which you had asked him to pick up for you earlier that day. He had been busy at work and asked Yuto to buy the book instead. When he handed you the package once he got home, the delighted expression he expected on your face was nowhere to be seen and in its place was an irritated look. “This isn’t the correct edition; it’s the first one. What I want is the most recent release – the 10th anniversary edition with a special chapter!”

He was glad his years of playing volleyball in high school gave him good reflexes or else he wouldn’t have caught the book you threw to his face. “Okay, okay, I’ll ask for an exchange tomorrow.”

You had looked at him as if he had grown two heads. “Tomorrow? I won’t be able to sleep at all if I don’t get to read it tonight!”

He inwardly cringed at the sound of your loud voice. You were already in your sixth month of pregnancy and contrary to what Jiri had told him, your mood swings were still a menace to deal with. So, he checked his watch and with a heavy sigh, announced that he would make a quick trip to the bookstore. When you insisted to tag along to make sure he gets the correct edition, he didn’t put up a fight.

“It’s not like you can eat a book,” he mumbles irritably again, looking at the still-red traffic light. “And that saleslady was a bitch.”

Beside him, you just let out a hum as you sniffed the pages of your precious book. “You’re lucky the smell of new books is one of my favorite scents in the world. I’m feeling too happy to entertain your negative ramblings. God, I can’t wait to get under my comforter and begin reading this.”

You continued on with humming a soft melody. Rintarou sneaked a glance at you before the lights turned green. You had returned the book to the paper bag and the image of you hugging it to your chest as you looked out the window was enough to make him smile, something that he had been doing a lot since the two of you began spending a lot of time together.

When you arrived home, he quickly jumped in the shower as he assumed that you changed into night clothes and got under the comfort of what used to be his bed alone. The king-sized bed had become a place for two, ever since you had moved into the room some weeks prior. It didn’t even take him long to shower but by the time he joined you, you were already asleep, barely even able to get the book out of the paper bag.

After a quiet laugh, he carefully plucked it from your hands, placing it on the bedside table. He never enjoyed reading and couldn’t find the appeal in doing so; he’d much rather watch shows or play video games. However, when the two of you got to talking about things you enjoyed, you were so passionate about your love for books. It was your step-mom who had introduced you to it, you said, and it was a special bond between the two of you as your sisters weren’t readers.

Suna’s eyes softened as he recalled what else you had shared to him.

It was your step-mom who read books to your father all day and all night after he went totally blind. Then, it was subsequently you who read him books after she took her own life.

“That can’t be.” Suna is pretty sure that he misheard you. He shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe you need to get a second opinion.”

He’s quick to hate the look of defeat in your eyes. “I’m sure the results will be the same. I don’t want to get my hopes up only for them to be shortly crushed after. Please don’t make this harder for me anymore.”

When he replies to you, he hopes the frustration can’t be heard in his voice. “Okay, I won’t force you if you don’t want to. But, let me be there for you.” You give him a wide-eyed look, expression full of surprise. “I meant it when I said I’m sorry to you. I want to...” He sighs heavily, wanting to break eye contact but he steels himself to hold it. “I want to try. To actually try for this marriage to work. I know it may be too late and I’ve been such a dick and an asshole to you. And honestly, there are still a lot of things I need to process but let’s not make these big decisions abruptly, okay? I don’t want you nor the kids to suffer a lot.”

Suna figures this must be the most honest he’s been with you since the children were born. He just hopes you’ll give him a chance. However, he won’t even blame you if you decide not to trust his words.

You’re the one who breaks eye contact and don’t respond to him for a second, a minute... and when the silence lingers on, he carefully calls for you. “Y/N?”

He watches you close your eyes, as if preparing yourself for what to say next. When you open them, they’re welling up with tears but you give him a small smile that tugs at his heart. “For what it’s worth,” you say, “Doctor Hirai said that there’s a possibility that it can only be a temporary blindness since it got detected early.”

Suna doesn’t even hold back the sigh of relief that he lets out. He holds your hands and stands up from his position in front of you. You follow suit, making the two of you face each other. He’s so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck up while he looks down at you. There’s a barely noticeable smile on his lips. “We’ll get through this, Y/N.”

--- *** ---

“Hey, Y/N, you didn’t come here the past few weeks.” Hajime greets you as he arrives at where the parents sit in the playground. You both watch as Kenta joins Risa in the sandbox, her face brightening in joy.

“I think my daughter has a crush on your son,” you comment before turning to him. “Nice to see you, Hajime. I was, ah, quite busy in the last weeks.”

He hums in response and looks at all the kids playing. “Is Ryuu not feeling well today? I don’t see him around.”

Before you can respond, your son makes an appearance, and you notice a happy look on his face. This prompts you to look at the person who’s holding his hand only to find that Rintarou is already looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh,” Hajime says as he stands up from where he’s sitting beside you. “Rintarou, right? Risa and Ryuu’s father?”

Rin breaks eye contact with you as he looks at Hajime’s outstretched hand. He shakes it quickly. “Yeah, also Y/N’s husband.”

The awkward moment is shattered when Ryuu groans. “Dad! You’re squeezing my hand tightly!” Rin must have loosened his hold for your son pulls his hand away before looking at you. “Can I play now, Mommy?”

You’re about to nod when you notice something on the corner of his lips. You fight a smile and put on your ‘inquisitive mom’ look. “Why did it take you long to come here, Ryuu?”

His eyes, which looks so similar to his father’s, widen and he bites his lip, quickly shooting a look at Rin who you can tell is trying not to smirk.

“Ryuu?” You ask again.

He pouts and breaks. “We saw an ice cream man on the way from the restroom and Dad bought me a cone.” He bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “I’m sorry.”

You inwardly sigh before leaving the bench to crouch down and match your son’s height. “Isn’t ice cream time after we leave here? What would Risa feel when she finds out you ate ice cream without her?” Ryuu only gives you a guilty look and sensing that he’s about to cry, you ruffle his black hair and kiss his forehead. “Don’t do it again, okay? Now, go and play.”

He nods and mumbles a quick promise before he goes to play with some kids in the rows of see-saws. Once you see him off, you return to sit on the park bench. You see Hajime talking to the other parents a few meters away, not even noticing him leaving.

“He quickly excused himself the moment you bent down to talk to Ryuu,” Rin explains as he takes the place where Hajime had been seating. You’re surprised he even offers an explanation, remembering the venom in his voice the last time the two of you had been talking about your friend.

“I see.” You watch the children play. Ever since that talk in the bedroom three weeks ago, things have been slowly changing between you and your husband. So far, he has kept true to his words and you can see that he’s trying to make things work between you two. And part of it is that he wants to be more involved with your children. The twins had been excited this morning when they found out that their dad is tagging along to the playground.

“I saw Ryuu look longingly at the ice cream vendor but he told me he’s not supposed to get ice cream yet. I bought him a cone anyway and told him to tell you that the line in the restrooms was long.”

You swiftly turn to look at your husband incredulously. “Did you just tell my son to lie?”

He smirks and shrugs. “Don’t worry, it seems like he’s brought up well. He can’t lie at all.”

Still, the scandalized look on your face doesn’t go away. “Rintarou!”

The smirk doesn’t leave his face and does something that surprises you. He laughs. Not the condescending or hateful way he had laughed at you in the past five years, but a genuine laughter. Before you know it, his fingers are softly straightening the lines on your face. “Stop worrying too much, Y/N. The kids will be fine.”

--- *** ---

[ left the hospital already but dropping by osamu’s for some onigiri ]

[ ok. tell me when you’re home ]

[ okay ]

[ actually, don’t. i’ll just pick u up otw home. stay there for a while? ]

[ um, ok ]

[ cool ]

[ also, tell samu to stop being a fucking prick & resume talking to atsumu. i’m not their messenger for fuck’s sake ]

A small giggle leaves your mouth as you read Rintarou’s last message. Osamu looks at you curiously after he bids goodbye to a customer. “Usual order?”

You nod at him. “But can you prepare them for later? Quick change of plans, I’ll have some food for here first.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Waiting for someone?”

You shake your phone at him. “Rin says he’s picking me up.”

The way his eyes widen almost makes you laugh. “Really?” You know he must be confused, after all, you were just here a few weeks ago, looking as stressed as ever because of your husband.

“Yeah,” you suddenly feel like blushing so you look down at your phone instead. “He also says you should talk to Atsumu again because he’s getting tired of being your messenger.”

Osamu then laughs. “I bet you just censored all the curse words in his message.” The way you suppress a smile is telling enough. “I see you two are on some kind of truce? What happened?”

You contemplate for a while. Sacha is the only one you have confided to about the happenings of the past few weeks. But then again, Osamu has been nothing but nice to you and you figured it wouldn’t be a problem if you tell him about Rintarou’s resolve. “Well... Rin said he wants to try to make our relationship work.”

The gray-haired man is quiet for a while. “Did he now?”

“Yeah... Do you think it’s a bad idea, Osamu?”

The man shrugs. “Not at all. I mean, you look a lot better than you did the last time you were here.” His statement makes you smile. “So, I take it things have been different since then?”

You nod. “Yesterday, he tagged along to the kids’ weekly trip to the playground then after that, he took us to lunch in the mall and then went shopping the whole afternoon. Risa and Ryuu were so happy.”

Osamu almost drops the glass he’s been wiping and he sends you a strange look. “Today is Tuesday, no? So that makes yesterday a Monday?”

“Uh huh. Why?”

“And you’re saying Rin spent the day with you and the kids?”

You nod, not knowing where he’s getting at. You look at him quizzically and can tell that he’s trying hard to suppress a smirk. “What’s the matter, Osamu?”

Finally, the man lets out an amused chuckle. “Nothing,” he says as he begins preparing your food. “It’s just that if there’s one thing that Rintarou Suna is constant about ever since he started working, it’s that he never takes a day-off on a Monday.”

--- *** ---

Suna tells himself he’s not keeping track but it’s the fourth Friday in a row that he’s spending home. Usually, he’ll be out in some bar to drink and maybe look for a woman to bring to a close by hotel or to a bathroom, if he couldn’t wait. But ever since he has decided that he wants to try to work things out with you, he’s been skipping the routine.

He goes to your bedroom and sees it empty; you’re probably in the kids’ room. He takes that time to jump into the shower. Suna is a man with needs and missing his week’s end routine means one thing: he’s horny. Many times, he has been tempted to go back to his old way and ring someone for a booty-call. You didn’t need to find out and if you did, surely you would understand, right? Old habits die hard, after all. Whenever the temptation comes, he shakes his head and pushes the thought away, knowing that it’s a terrible idea to pursue.

So, he’s left with doing something that he never thought he would do again – getting himself off in the bathroom with his hands, like a pathetic lonely teenager.

Suna’s not sure how long it takes him in the shower. He’s afraid that his hand might not work for him anymore next time. It’s not helping that he’s spending more time with you, the girl that he has always found attractive, even during the times he hated you.

When he exits the shower, he finds you in bed already, leaning against the headboard as the blanket covers the lower half of your body. You’re wearing a silk set of pajamas and the strap of your top is sliding down on your shoulder. He gulps. He has taken you before, but why is he suddenly nervous?

“Are you okay?” Your voice breaks him out of his inner thoughts. You must have felt him staring at you because your eyes are still trained on your book as you ask him the question.

“Yeah...” He moves to the closet to grab a shirt and pair of shorts. He quickly changes into them and once he pulls the shirt over his head, his eyes meet yours looking at him.

A faint blush colors your cheeks as you return your gaze to your book. He finds himself smirking and decides to call you out. “You know, it’s completely normal for a wife to watch her husband changing.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He doesn’t speak until he’s on the bed beside you, getting a whiff of your sweet scent. He leans closer and tries to peek at your book. “What are you reading?”

He knows his closeness unsettles you for you quickly shut your book close. You turn to him instead and bites your lower lips as soon as you realize that there’s barely any distance between your faces. “Can you move, please?”

“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You squirm and Suna has to admit that he’s having too much fun with this. Sure, the past few weeks you’ve been spending a lot together has been good, but this is something different. There’s something about making you so flustered that makes him feel things he does not want to acknowledge yet. “I’ll take your silence as a yes, then.”

He’s about to move back, afraid that he might not be able to stop himself if he continues to tease you any longer, but before he can do so, you softly tug at his shirt. You’re not looking at him, your face turned away from him, but not enough to hide the redness on your face. “Hmm?”

“Rin,” the soft way you say his name almost makes him groan. “C-Can we...”

Fuck. Is this happening? “Yes, Y/N? Can we what?”

If it’s possible, your face reddens even more. “You know what I want to say.”

He chuckles and despite knowing he shouldn’t be taking too much pleasure from this, he does not relent. “I’m not actually sure. I need you to tell me exactly what you want, wife.”

You whimper at the word and finally say with a barely audible voice, “I want you, Rin.”

This time, Suna lets himself groan out loud as he tips your chin up so that you’re meeting eye to eye. “Are you sure, Y/N? I haven’t been with anyone since that day I shared my resolve to you. I’m not sure if I can be gentle at all.”

You nod quickly before speaking, your voice laced with desire. “Just take me, please, Rin.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s sucking marks on your neck, his hands quickly removing the covers from you. He ignores the thud of what he assumes to be your book hitting the floor. You’re just as eager as you tug at his shirt. He groans and removes the piece of clothing with the same urgency as you’re undressing yourself.

He maneuvers you so you’re lying completely on your back with him hovering over you, his lips busy alternating between your breasts. A sweet moan leaves your lips as his hand finds your damp center. He makes you come with his fingers alone before his lips are trailing down your body. The moment his tongue enters your pussy, you pull at his hair and the slight sting makes him growl.

“Please, Rin...” he feels you trying to close your legs and he slaps your thigh to keep you from moving. It seems to work as you stop and just continue to pull at his hair. It doesn’t take you long before an orgasm consumes you again and he laps at your release.

Suna pulls back and he watches you try to steady your breathing as he pumps his already hard cock. “Ready?”

The needy look you send him makes him groan. “Yes. Please, Rin. I need you.”

He growls out your name before sheathing himself inside you. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight.” He doesn’t start off slow, his thrusts already intense but it seems like you don’t mind it either as you’re continuously letting out your sweet and addictive moans. Your hands clench on the sheet and he takes them, placing them on his back. He groans at the feeling of your fingers scratching and he finds that he does not mind getting marked by you anymore.

Suna busies his lips on your neck and collarbone as his thrusts become harder and faster, sounds of your skin slapping together echoing in your room. “Feels so fucking good,” he pants against your ear, making you clench around him tighter. He gets ahold of your legs and press them against your chest before his hips move with powerful thrusts against you. You’re moaning endlessly now, but not loud enough to cover the creaking sound of the bed and the headboard meeting the wall.

Sensing that you’re nearing your release, Rintarou sneaks his hand in between your legs and plays with your clit, giving it the last push before you’re moaning out his name and coming around him. It doesn’t take him long to follow after you, his hips stilling as he comes inside you.

You’re both panting and it takes Suna a few moments to compose himself before he’s pulling out, the both of you letting out hisses at the sensitivity. He covers his eyes, chest still heaving, as he says, “Fuck. I really needed that.”

--- *** ---

You can’t help but giggle at Rin’s statement. You weren’t a very sexual person but you knew it must have been hard for him, especially since he told you he hasn’t been with anyone during the past few weeks. You’re still both panting and you half-dreaded for him to leave you alone like he usually does in the past after sex.

However, much like he’s been surprising you with his actions in the past weeks, his hand reaches for his shirt and wipes you down. He’s sitting upright on the bed and you feel his eyes on your still naked body. You see him bite his lip as he watches you, the desire still evident on his face. The way he’s looking at you gives you the confidence to reach down and stroke his half-hard cock. And with an innocent smile that you know he’ll be able to see through, you ask, “One more?”

As it turns out, Rin’s stamina and your neediness leads to two more. You now lay on the bed, already cleaned up and changed, your eyes closed. You know that you’re breathing is soft and Rin must have mistaken it for you already asleep for you feel him carefully leave the bed.

You discreetly watch as he opens the bedside table’s drawer and takes out his cigarette pack and lighter. The soft steps of his bare foot are barely heard as he makes his way to the terrace. As soon as the door slides shut beside him, you close your eyes.

Baby steps, you tell yourself. At least he waited until you fell asleep. And even though he still didn’t kiss your lips tonight, the fact that he gave you aftercare was enough. You know there are a lot of things that Rin has to work on and he had told you himself that it may take a long time before he can be someone that he himself can be proud of. “Baby steps,” you whisper to yourself again.

Unbeknownst to you, it’s the exact same words that the man outside tells himself as he lights up what he decides to be his last stick of cigarette ever.

TO BE CONTINUED.

taglist:  @warrior-of-justice @alisa--things @wolffmaiden @kurookinnie @simp-nerd-16  @alex-is-100 @k4g3hika @harukaaaaa172993 @themoonreflectsthesun  @lvjycrow @cantbedenied @sweetlikerockcandy @sirimiripetrichor @yamiakari-chi  @noideawhothatis @nervouscoffeetaco @lovemyfamily4ever-blog nervouscoffeetaco  kamukayakmonyet  yuqixidle ieathairs  cantbedenied  gariben  beomeomgyu  esmeisdrunk-blog  123j456l  iluv-ace  semitje @justablogforreblogs

#suna x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #suna smut #haikyuu #haikyuu suna

[sloth-babied]

Love Will Find a Way

Sam Obisanya x reader

Summary: After a year of trying to get over Sam Obisanya, Colin insists you attend a speed dating event with him. 

And would you look at that, Sam’s here too. 

Contains: Drinking, light angst, and fluff. No use of y/n.

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: The fact that there aren't a numerous amount of fics about Sam is actually a crime so I had to step in.

Enjoy!

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life,” Colin reads the pink chalk-written words on a wooden A-frame sign in front of the restaurant. He turns to you, pursing his lip while nodding as if he were impressed. 

You simply smile and nod, indulging your friend who suggested you come here with him.

You observe the room once you two enter—the quintessential red and pink balloons at every corner of the room, including pink lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Red and pink decor are set all around the place with a banner hanging maliciously over the seating area:

FOR SINGLES READY FOR LOVE

You sigh before you continue to look around. There’s a lot of older people here; people in their mid-forties and up. Makes sense. Those around your age usually rely on dating apps, but there are a few exceptions which, you guess, is a relief. 

You’re able to identify two other young people and realize one of them is Isaac. And the other is…oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.

You grab Colin’s bicep, hoping to reroute your plans. “You know what, actually I think I change my mind—”

“Wait, is that Isaac and Sam?” He notices, raising his damn hand excitedly. “Isaac! Sam!” Colin places his fists on his hips, shaking his head. “Who knew they’d be here?”

You give him a hardened stare before offering the other two footballers a disingenuous smile as they walk your way, drinks in hand.

Naturally your eyes drift to Sam and you can’t resist admiring his outfit for the night. A black turtleneck and brown khakis.

This is going to be a long night.

“Wild seein’ you here, innit?” Isaac says.

Colin nods fervently. “Yeah, weird coincidence.”

Sam gestures his drink in your direction. “What brings you here?

Oh, god, he’s talking to you.

You scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Colin was nice enough to invite me,” you tell him, though ‘nice’ is not the word you would honestly use. ‘Cruel’ sounds more accurate, but you digress.

Sam smiles thoughtfully, though he can’t say he doesn’t feel as awkward as you. “I’m sure you’ll find a match. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You ignore Isaac and Colin glancing at each other, gripping the strap of your tote bag just a tad bit tighter. “And to you, also,” you shoot him a finger-gun with your free hand. “ As well. Too.”

You’re insufferable, but Sam chortles anyway, thank goodness for that.

“Finally got Sam off Bantr.” Isaac pats Sam’s back.

Sam shakes his head. “I deleted my account a long time ago.”

And you know why. It’s hard to think about Sam’s relationship with Rebecca without feeling a little jealous…okay, a lot.

Sam sips his punch. “Isaac suggested I come here, so here I am.”

Ding, ding, ding!

You all turn your heads to a woman holding a call bell in her hand. “The event begins in five minutes!”

And so the night begins.

Each date feels prolonged despite being on a three-minute timer. Many people who are much older than you discuss topics beyond your time or too early in your longevity to experience. And when you meet people around your age, well, let's say a severe lack of chemistry is the only thing that comes into mind.

Admittedly, you debated pregaming before Colin picked you up. You decided against it until you saw Sam here, therefore during the five-minute break, you mumble, "Eh, what the hell?" to yourself before sneaking off to the bar, ordering a shot of tequila before you and Sam meet.

Liquid courage.

Sam greets you with a pursed smile, waving his questionnaire card (cutely) and taking a seat in front of you. "Hi."

“Hey.” You smile back a bit more enthused than usual. Less nervous. More loose.

“So how are your dates going?” Sam wiggles his eyebrows.

You lean forward closer to him, balancing a pen between two fingers. “Hmm. Oh, see that guy over there?”

Sam’s head stealthily turns to the man you point at—slick back gray hair with a salt and pepper beard. 

“Apparently, he owns 0.5% of West Ham.” 

Sam looks back at you, leaning closer. “Dealbreaker?”

You nod exaggeratedly, leaning away. “Very much so, Sam. You know I’m ride-or-die for Richmond.”

He pats his chest, smiling playfully. “I’m flattered.”

From two different areas of the room, Colin and Isaac are seated with their respective dates. Colin and Issac narrow their eyes on you and Sam, shushing their poor dates whenever they attempt to speak.

When you feel your neck practically burning, you swivel your stool, catching them do a questionable job at pretending they weren’t just hyper-focused on you and Sam.

Colin mouths fake words to his very confused date who will certainly write him off later. Isaac looks upward, chin on his palm, eyes squinted, and mouth parted as if he were in deep thought.

“Okay…” You murmur to yourself before facing Sam again. “How about you, huh? Meet anyone you fancy yet?”

He offers a sigh, tilting his head towards his previous date. “See that woman over there?”

You discreetly look to the left and see an elderly woman speaking with her date, a man fortunately around her age. They seem to be hitting it off.

Sam shakes his head, feigning a disappointed sigh. “I thought we had something.”

“Another older white woman stolen from you, man. You gonna take that?” You tilt your upper body towards the perhaps soon-to-be couple before sipping your ice water.

Sam’s shoulders bounce, chuckling. He turns to them. “Yes, I am.”

You also turn, feeling envious from the sight. You observe the woman’s incredibly pink face and the subtle red on the olive-skinned man’s cheeks. Mutually smitten.

You and Sam face each other in unison, both of your hands below the table as you lean your torsos against the round table. Sam’s hands clasp beneath the surface while yours continue to fiddle with your pen.

Colin hides behind his questionnaire paper below his eyes—espionage still at work—and Isaac ignores his date once again, enthralled by your date as if it were a movie. 

If only there were popcorn, he thinks.

Sam says your name, but you’re stuck in his trance, buzzed and hypnotized. His voice swims around the atmosphere he tends to unintentionally create whenever you speak to him.

Then you remember what occurred a year ago; you remember the reason why you slightly furthered yourself from him in hopes of moving on. Frankly, it didn’t work very well.

Isaac’s brows furrow even deeper than usual, and he looks over at Colin who shrugs at him, sharing the same concern as you back away from Sam. You sober your deluded mind with another drink of water, reminding yourself that Sam is just…Sam. He’s naturally kind, charming, and genuine. He gets along with everyone. You’re not special.

You hold your questionnaire out, smiling tightly. “What am I doing? We’re supposed to be asking each other questions. Uh, okay, let’s see.” You scan your sheet. “What’s your dream career?” You ask hastily. You awkwardly laugh at yourself. “That’s a stupid question.”

Sam repeats your name, but you’re too lost rambling about the stupid questions in your hand.

“Where are you from originally?” You cower behind the paper. “Know that, too. Uhm, okay, let’s see. Oh! Here, if you were an animal, what would you be—”

Sam says your name louder and places his hand on yours, lowering the paper from your face.

“A goldfish. If I were an animal, I’d be a goldfish,” he answers.

You peer down at your hands. “The ten-second memory thing Coach Lasso told you about.”

He slowly pulls his hand off yours, but it sits close by. He nods. “Exactly. There are certain things I want to forget; things I cannot change. But there are things that I can change.”

Things he can change? Where is he going with this?

He continues. “Last year when you asked me—”

Ding, ding, ding, you both hear, jumping at the sound of the call bell. Chairs scrape the red-checkered floor and the sound of shoes patter all around you. Time to go.

“See ya, Sam,” you hurry to your next date who just so happens to be the captain of the Richmond football team. “Isaac, hey.”

He simply shakes his head. 

Four more rounds pass until the host of the speed dating event gives out the last announcement.

“Alright, everyone! Whoever you scored most with is your match. Say ‘hi’ to your potential partner! And give yourselves a round of applause for putting yourself out there tonight!”

Two pairs of hands clap with her, hands belonging to Colin and Isaac. You refrain from rolling your eyes at them when the bartender approaches you.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh, a Jack and Coke please.” You face her before turning around again.

You observe Sam speaking with one of the organizers of the event. The organizer reluctantly hands Sam his score sheet with a confused expression on her face. He nearly catches you staring until you turn back to the counter.

“One Jack and Coke.” The bartender sets down your drink, but not without noticing you eyeing Sam. She smirks, wiping down a glass cup with a cloth that was previously on her shoulder. (Classic bartender move.) “Obisanya your match?”

You study the small sheet in your hand, analyzing the scores and the contact information of someone already on your phone.

“Oi! How the hell did you match with me?” You hear Isaac stomp behind you. 

You smile mischievously, gesturing your head toward him. 

The bartender nods, pouting her lower lip before finding another customer, and you use the counter to spin yourself around to your distressed friend.

“Maybe we’re soulmates,” you suggest facetiously, lifting your drink towards him.

Truth is, you might have taken a peek at his questionnaire sheet when he kept exchanging looks with Colin. His disappointment earlier combined with Colin’s invasive questions about your date with Sam after you got through all your sessions helped piece things together.

Plus, Colin’s insistence that you come to this event in the first place. 

“Get in line.” He stands with his arms crossed next to Issac.

Isaac sits and harshly waves his sheet. “Why copy my sheet when your real match is-”

Colin clears his throat, poking his elbow against Isaac’s arms.

“Somewhere in this room,” Isaac finishes.

The only one in this room who piqued your interest was Sam. Towards the end, there were potential candidates. However, neither was Sam Obisanya.

You scoff, sipping your drink. “Nice save, Lindsey Lohan. I’ve seen Parent Trap enough times to know what’s going on here.”

You wonder why they’d want to pull something like this, especially after you told them that Sam turned you down. Pestering Sam to go on a stupid date with you is not something you would ever do, nor something a normal person should do, period.

God, you hope Sam doesn’t think you did this on purpose.

Isaac continues to eye you disapprovingly before his gazes shifts upwards to a new presence behind you, this presence being none other than Sam leaning his side against the counter. And now you’re sitting between him and the other two sneaky bastards.

“Sam! Who’d you match with?” Colin reaches in front of you and snatches Sam’s score sheet. He frowns. “No one?”

Isaac yanks the sheet from Colin’s hand. “What? How’s that even possible?”

Sam plucks his sheet back from Isaac, stuffing it in his back pocket. “If it’s alright with you two, I’d like to discuss something with them.” He looks down at you. “Alone.”

Your cheeks burn up, easily. Is it the whiskey? Is it Sam? Either way, you’re taking another sip. 

Isaac gets up immediately, rapidly nodding alongside Colin, saying, “Yeah, ‘course, bruv,” before the two footballers leave, whispering to each other. 

You place your drink down and fold your arms on the counter as Sam sits beside you. 

His sweet smile doesn’t cease. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond sheepishly. You take a third sip before speaking again. “So no one, huh?”

Sam shakes his head. “Thought I maybe had a chance with her,” he jokes.

You find the elderly lady from earlier matched with the elderly man. He leans on his cane with one hand and his other hand snakes around his date’s arm, hooking it with his. 

Maybe speed dates work after all. 

“Who’d you match with?” He asks curiously. You hand him your sheet. “Isaac? How did that happen? Wasn’t he just glaring at you the whole date?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” You laugh, placing the paper back on counter.

Wait a second. Sam was watching you?

You try not to look too much into it.

He reaches for his earlobe, lightly tugging at it. “There was something I wanted to tell you before our date ended.”

Oh, god. Is he going to admit how uncomfortable you make him? Is he ending your friendship right now? Yeah, you added some distance between the two of you, but in your defense, you had no intentions of actually ending your relationship.

He speaks a little louder. “Last year, you told me you liked me. Romantically.”

Fuck, you despise the recap.

“And I told you I didn’t feel the same way.”

You clasp your hand around your glass, however Sam stops you, hand on yours.

“Let me finish. Please.”

You dubiously comply, releasing your hand from the cup and nod, letting him continue with whatever gut-wrenching news is going to wreck you for the next few months.

Your head faces his direction, but you stare off at nothing in particular.

He continues. “I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t feel the same way. But as time passed, the more we got to know each other and the more things in my love life started to unravel, I started to fall in love.”

You furrow your brows, meeting your eyes with his. 

“With you,” he adds. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore. But I just…wanted to tell you how I felt.”

What the hell is happening? This is a prank, right? 

You take a look behind you, wondering if perhaps there was someone beside or behind you who he was confessing his feelings to instead.

Nope, just you. You’re barely tipsy, so there’s no way you’re misunderstanding him. 

You remain quiet, not quite sure what to say. The expression on your face worries him and he calls your name.

You softly shake your head. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” 

Now it’s Sam’s turn to internally freak out. He glances at your drink, wondering if he could ask for a gulp.

“Uh…” Sam tugs at his earlobe again and chuckles nervously. “I like you?”

Maybe two sips, he thinks. Three? No, no, that’s irresponsible, he decides.

“Can I have a glass of water please?” He raises his palm at the bartender, politely ordering to fill the silence.

You grab his wrist and lower his hand on the counter, sliding your hand over his, adding, “Make that two,” to his order, because there is absolutely no way you’re getting drunk after what he just told you.

Sam looks away from the bartender and he takes notice of your hands. His ears warm up.

“Definitely wanna be sober for this,” you tell him quietly, and the edges of his lips curve upward. Hesitantly, he entwines his fingers through yours like they belong there.

“Two waters.” The bartender drops off your drinks, glancing at your hands. She raises her brows before leaving you alone.

Sam uncombs his fingers from yours, getting up from his chair. He moves closer to you and spins you by the backrest of your chair, so your body faces him. Then he cups your face. “I don’t know if they allow PDA here, but may I kiss you?”

You gently hold on to his wrists. “They host speed dates every week. I’m sure one kiss is fine.”

He giggles, moving his face closer to yours, murmuring, “One kiss?”

You flicker your gaze between his eyes and mouth. “Or two.” You shrug. “But yes. You may.”

Sam licks his lips before sinking them into yours, and his eyes and yours instinctively shut. You inhale deeply through your nose, breathing in the person you didn’t know would expect to eventually reciprocate your feelings.

His lips are so soft, pillowy against your own. He massages his lips on yours, enveloping himself deeper against you by tilting his head. You feel lightheaded—a delightful combination of his kissing skills and the faded work of the alcohol you ingested earlier. 

Your daydreams do not serve the real thing.

You’re the first to pull away, catching your breath. “Seriously though, how didn’t you match with anybody?”

Sam smiles proudly and pecks your lips. “I asked one of the event-coordinators not to score my sheet. Told her I changed my mind.”

You stand, removing his hands from your face without letting go. “Good.”

From a distance, Colin and Isaac sit at a table, gazing at the other couple like before.

Isaac holds his plastic cup out, smirking. “Too easy, man.”

Colin clinks his cup against Isaac’s. “Too easy.”

#sam obisanya x reader #sam obisanya x you #colin hughes #isaac mcadoo #afc richmond #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #SAM OBISANYA STANS RISE #ted lasso fanfic #fluff

[persephone11110]

Stay Still

parental Icemav x reader

Prompt; “Hey! Hey! Stay awake, okay? Stay awake.”-credit: @kitkatscabinet

Warnings:hidden injuries, mention of past child abuse, nose bleed, fainting/stumbling, insomnia

ofc: Beatrix“Bix”Kent

This time it wasn’t Bix’s fault. She gotten used to hiding injuries when she reached the age of five.

Wrist bruises from her parents grabbing her to hard, yanking her towards them.

Her father’s everyday belt left welts on her. A repaired nose from when her father decked her across the face.

In other words, it was a set of skills she learned early on.

If you had a childhood like hers, you learned how to stich yourself up. How to stop the bleeding, to fixing broken bones by yourself.

– –

Abruptly dropping a file on the table infront of her. A file Ice needed done for the meeting as it held a detailed report from a mission that took place a couple of days ago.

A painful stab gnawed at her stomach as she paused to draw a small breathe in.

Her hands twitched as her body lacked sleep.

“Sweetheart are you okay?" Maverick asked looking at the young pilot paled face with concern.”Whats wrong?”

“Nothing Mav, you know after ejection jitters”. They all went through it reset yes, yet that didn’t soothe Maverick’s concern at all.

“Don’t worry about me” she said confidently. Too confident.

Bix leaned over grabbing two empty mugs, she turned her back from the man she considered her father. Knowing the one emotion that was being expressed in was concern.

“Beatrice.”

I’m fine I keep telling you that, I’ll nap afterwards” she promised Maverick even though she had every intent to break it.

– –

“Commander Kent are you okay” Ice asked her as he sat at the head of the table.

Looking up Bix’s eyes slowly blinked.

”Yes sir”, the last thing she needed was to embarrass herself infront of higher ups.

Including Ice, and Maverick.

Yes they were her parents, but thats after hours and right now they’re Admiral Kazanksy, and Captain Mitchell.

As the meeting went on her brain had gotten fogger, her ribs hurt more than they did earlier. Bix thought the plethora cups of coffee she had would’ve woken her up little, yet it seems like caffeine is making it worse. Doing the exact opposite.

She heard Ice’s voice as he spoke lowly, due to his throat that still the had the effects of cancer, but he still held the cold, authoritative voice he always had.

She blinked sharply trying to understand what he was talking about.

Spending money on fighter jets, she thought to herself- no it can’t be. Because Ice already talked about that earlier didn’t he?

“More fighter jets mean, more missions being carried out-…Commander Kent are you okay?”, as he noticed her paled, pained stricken face.

“Sorry sir, please continue” She hoped no one asked for her two sense.

“Alright…”

Before continuing Maverick and Ice made eye contact, silently talking about their kid.

Fatigue seeped through her. As if she hadn’t had cups of coffee earlier and during the meeting. She felt as if someone was sucking every bit of energy out of her.

A swooshing sounds echoes in both of her ears.

This was too much. Maybe she could close her eyes for a brief second.

Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom.

Something was wrong but leaving the meeting while Ice was speaking felt disrespectful.

Something wet drips down her face.

Sweat, or is she so sleep deprived she’s hallucinating?

She brought her hand up to her face, and looked down surprised at the sight of blood on her fingers.

She stood up shakily, making a move towards the tissues. Before feeling the fatigue finally take over.

“Commander Kent!”

She tried steadying herself against the table, but a cloud of darkness took over.

“Catch her!”

“Call med bay!”

– –

Bix shows signs of consciousness when a quiet groan leaves her lips, probably because of loud monitor beeping.

Tired eyes open up just a bit. “Mav, Ice. what h?” her voice slurred as she spoke.

“You collasped during the meeting. you remember that Bix?” Maverick asked her gently.

“Mhm” she nodded her head.

The younger pilot swallows sharply,.“ribs hurt M’v” she whined.

“They were broken from the ejection you had two weeks ago.”Kid, why didn’t you mention your broken ribs?”

Because nobody cares about me.

“Come on kiddo talk to me, tell me what’s wrong”, he pleaded softly. finding a spot on her hospital bed and sitting down on it.

“Burden, M’v cause to much problems” she said quietly.

“Not a burden kiddo, I promise” he told her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm gently.

Maverick wanted to hunt down her parents and kill them.

She groaned tiredly rubbing her hand over her face“I can handle pain”, her southern accent more present.

“I know you can kiddo, that doesn’t mean you have to hide it” he told her sweetly.

“M’n fine I take care of myself”. she tilted her head in confusion“is dice mad at me?” her blue eyes suddenly sad.

“No he-”

“No Bix I’m not, just little upset” Ice’s voice was suddenly there.

Maverick turned his body. meeting his husband with a smile.

His body was suddenly there leaning over top of her kissing the crown of her face.

“Our love isn’t conditional, you know that” Ice reassured her. “Your loved honey”.

“Not mad at me?” she asked again double checking.

“Nope, not a chance a kiddo” Ice kissed her cheek, as she slowly fell into a much deserved slumber.

“Love you pops, dad”

#top gun #top gun maverick #tom kazansky #pete mitchell #icemav #tom kazansky x reader #pete mitchell x reader

[paulineagain]

For this week’s writing exercise, I sat down to imagining “girlness,” I was drawn to a very young character in my WIP: the daughter of one of the heroines. I imagine her here a little older than she is in the current story. She is disabled, realizing her asexuality and understanding that her status as a “natural child” will always mark her in early 19th century America. The standards that set her apart aren’t going to dismay her, though. Embracing our personal differentness without saying we’re sorry, especially for women and girls, is also a way to break the rules.

Thank you for including me – and all of us – in this opportunity @bettsfic and @books. It has been a great opportunity for me to dive deeper into so much that I love about writing.

Being born unable to hear came with a lot of rules. She knew that instinctively, never being told. Smile when people’s lips moved, even though they make no effort to be understood. Avoid nodding. They might be asking for something you cannot or will not give. Stick to your own, if you can. They make accommodations for you, and you for them.

The school for the deaf was far away. It was on a river, but nothing like the one back home, and the people were as cold as the weather. Dyed in the wool Protestants from Puritan ancestors, they wore their collars high and their expressions sour. Nothing like the people back home who she knew, again instinctively, her teachers thought of as indolent and lazy. Easy words of misunderstanding and dismissal.

She was called Joy here, even though her name was really Joie. The teachers corrected her with the signs for J-O-Y when she wrote her name in French at the top of her parchment. She would have to cross it out and write the hated letters given in terse movements of fingers gnarled by hard scrubbing and a lack of moister. These women seemed to have no joy, and she was often surprised that they could even spell the word.

Knowing another life, full of people who loved and accepted her for who and what she was, did not soften the hard edges. She came to the school at age ten and now, two years later, she counted days rather than months. Her mother, with a heart in the right place, said that five years away from all she loved would be enough. Seven, though, would be better. Joie wanted out now, and if her mother knew what they told her here she might agree.

Women could not, according to her teachers, achieve more than hearth and husband, home and children. They drilled this into her and her eager classmates. These girls, for the genders were separated in and out of class, giggled and passed notes about boys. Joie didn’t see the attraction. Boys were fine to talk to, and run after in a game of tag. Some of her finest friends were boys but Joie didn’t understand why girls fussed over them. Most of all, she knew she never wanted to marry.

She avoided telling anything but the most obvious when asked about her family, too. The people at this place would mock her for a mother who was a sea captain, an aunt who practiced medicine and a father she did know. Their rules said everything about her family was upside down and sideways. Everything about it was incorrect.

Her own ambitions, also unspoken, were wrong too. Joie dreamed of making her own way in the arts. Her love of portraiture bloomed here, perhaps the only thing that did besides the climbing roses on the shady side of the girl’s dormitory. She hoped to make a life for herself with her talent, and to one day say she had painted every rich Creole lady and praline seller back home. They all held their own fascination, and deserved a place in posterity.

Like the roses that chose the difficulty of a different path in the shade, but managed still to bloom in profusion each year, Joie imagined thriving. Against the odds, and all the rules, she saw herself thriving on her own. Like her mother who could aim and prime a cannon and her aunt who could save lives with surgery, their Joie would succeed. Just five more patient years, and the rules would all but be forgotten.

#tumblr writing workshop with betts #fiction #wip #girl

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 1,827

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18. ⬇

Chapter 19.

Chapter 18: Promises, Promises

Fancy seeing you here, my dear, Astarion purred in her mind, almost making her recoil. Memories she suppressed for so long bubbled up behind her mind's eye: the way he stared down at her when he… You look delicious in this dress. I could just… devour you.

A pale looking girl now shifted beside him. Tav's eyes shifted on her face; not even the makeup could hide the deep dark under her eyes, the dryness of her lips. She looked heavily dehydrated as she snaked a hand around Astarion's left bicep. He gave no sign of even noticing it.

It seemed he had a new leaking blood bag he could sip from time to time. A decorative doll, dressed in an expensive looking – but still plain –, rather revealing dress; making Tav realise a major difference between how Gortash dressed her and how Astarion clothed his partner. While the dress on Tav had lace on her back, which made it a bit revealing, it was mostly covered with the golden dragon embroidery - as if she was protected by it. Given the fact Gortash had the same golden dragons stitched on his leather coat, it wasn't hard to understand the symbolism. He protected her. The front hadn't had a deep cut-out, either; she looked elegant, regal, even, just like him - showing the world he truly considered her his equal.

The girl's dress though, had been made of the finest dark red silk, but it lacked decoration. It had a deep cut-out both on her front, right down almost to her belly button, and deep down on the back, too. As Tav sized her up, she thought she'd never put this dress on, especially not if she were to be in the company of society's highest. It was too revealing. She also wondered if the girl even seen seventeen winters. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes looked a little bloodshot. From crying or from her twisted sleeping schedule from living with a vampire, Tav couldn't decide. Poor child, Tav thought, he has his claws deep in her, too.

Astarion's attention shifted back to Gortash, who, in turn, kept his eyes on the vampire. Thankfully, Gortash had been blessed with incredible intelligence. Thus, when Astarion held his hand out for him to take and introduced himself, the name rang a bell instantly in the depths of his mind. Given the fact he'd heard the beginning of his name spoken to Tav a few times, always stopping before it was uttered completely, and the way he felt that Tav went completely rigid on his side already told him a tale; he could deduce, in less than five seconds, that these two had history.

Given her past reactions to the name itself, very bad history.

His Paladin who'd seen and fought the Apostle of Myrkul, perhaps the world's strongest manifestation of power just after the Elder Brain, who'd seen horrors beyond anyone's imagination – was afraid of a man.

His own reaction to this was fascinating. Sensing that Tav was afraid of this man made Gortash extra cautious; a part of him wishing he could remove her from the ball immediately, to secure her and to get answers. But he couldn't do any of that now, not yet. Her fingers trembled under his right hand, and he applied pressure to the back of her hand to let her know that he was there, that he would protect her at all costs. He wished he could tell her that Astarion wouldn't dare to lay a finger on her in his presence; that if she thought that Astarion was dangerous, then she hadn't known him at all, because it'd take a snap of his fingers and the pale elf would be ripped apart in mere minutes.

Alas… Gortash was not aware what he was dealing with. None of them did. And that was a hilariously major drawback.

"It is an honour, Your Grace", the girl on Astarion's side bowed her head to Gortash with a curtsy, and Enver momentarily gave her his attention.

"The honour is all mine", he replied cautiously, making Astarion smirk, which caused a shiver to run down Tav's spine.

"We've been thoroughly enjoying ourselves, Your Grace", Astarion addressed Gortash again, and his eyes found Tav's for a split second once more.

I see you've been a busy bee, darling. You've rejected me, but moved on to the next most powerful man of Baldur's Gate? I didn't think you had it in you. I'm almost… impressed.

Tav couldn't even muster her willpower to answer him through their shared connection. She was as pale as a ghost by now, and the only thing that grounded her was Gortash's arm and hand.

"I'm glad you do", Gortash still sounded cautious.

"Perhaps you should host these events more often", Astarion chuckled quietly, and now, he didn't move his attention away from the other.

I wonder how his blood tastes like, the vampire purred again, and that gave her the push to finally snap back.

I've broken my Oath of Vengeance for him, her voice, even just in their minds, was shaking. But only for the first few words. What makes you think I wouldn't break your spine if you tried to hurt him?

"Perhaps I will", Gortash nodded.

Astarion chuckled. Tav couldn't decide if he was laughing at her, or at Gortash's reaction.

Thank you for letting me know that he's this important to you. I'll keep that in mind.

No. No. No. Panic and bile was rapidly rising in her chest and stomach.

Ah, I hear your heartbeat, racing as fast as a little rabbit's, Astarion noted, I've always loved to hear your heart race like this… because of me. Hmm… it's making me want to make him bleed even more.

Touch him and I will kill you.

"Please, Your Grace, do invite me again", Astarion mused, bowing his head to Gortash, "I'd hate to miss out on anything important that happens in Baldur's Gate."

His eyes shifted back on her with a flash of warning in his crimson gaze.

Oh, darling… you can die trying.

And with that, he left with the girl still glued to his arm.

Tav could finally breathe again. The panic had her entire chest in unbearable pain. Unconsciously, she shifted even closer to Gortash, who glanced at her as soon as Astarion turned his back on them. The golden arm piece was unyielding on his arm, but he could feel that her hand was gripping him as tightly as she was able to. Judging by her blown pupils and ragged breaths, he knew he had to get her out of there fast.

So he did. She noticed the cool air on the balcony first; then, his hands, as they were rubbing cirlces against her palms. The last time it helped, and it helped now, too. He was talking, she could hear his voice, but what he had said was lost to her for quite a while.

"I'm- I'm sorry", her voice was shaking as she spoke, but at least she reacted to him and the events. "I don't… I don't know what… came… over me…"

"It's alright. You don't have to apologize. Just breathe, alright? Slow." His gentle words and thumbs rubbing her palms helped a lot, but as soon as her eyes met his, she was shaking from fear and desperation. "Tav, it's alright. We're alright. You are safe. Both of us are."

But for how long? How long before Astarion crept up to his window at night to kill him? How long until she learned of his sudden, gruesome death – for doing something she thought was right? The mere thought of Enver dying had her spin into total panic.

I can't lose him, she realised. If I lose him, I'll lose my mind with him.

"Tav", Gortash's voice sounded more firm than the last time. "Breathe slower for me. Focus. Look", he raised his gaze and she followed it. The night sky was lit up by the stars and the waning moon. "It'll pass if you let it. Don't hold onto it." He shifted closer to her, moving one of his hands on her back to rub it gently. She took a shaking breath, staring at the moon. Her hands grabbed his other arm, her knuckles went white with the effort. "Slow", he kissed her temple and she obeyed. The pain slowly ebbed. "Good girl", he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. "That's it. Slow. Let it pass."

She took a deep breath and sighed, turning back to him to hide her face against his chest. He held her gently.

"I'm not a girl", Tav murmured, making him chuckle.

"But you like it when I call you a good girl, aren't you?"

She wanted to squirm. He was doing this on a purpose, and she loved and hated that it had an effect on her.

"I was right."

"About what?"

"You really are the worst."

"You wound me, dearest. I'm always doing my best for you."

Tav breathed him in; the scent of his soap, the shirt, the scent of leather and gold of his coat.

"You need higher security", she mumbled.

"Why exactly?"

She bit her lower lip before she pulled away from him to look in his eyes.

"Because my previous partner wants to kill you."

Well. That would explain why she reacted the way she did.

"How do you know?"

"He has a tadpole like mine", she admitted, looking away. "I share a psychic connection with him, just as I do with the others. He kept talking to me while he spoke to you."

Gortash needed a moment to absorb that.

"How long have you known him?"

"A couple of months…" Tav was reluctant to speak about Astarion, but she knew she'd need to, eventually. "Met him after I got my… intruder… after the Nautiloid crash. We've been travelling together, trying to find a cure."

That stab of jealousy didn't feel good. Months. Astarion had months with her on his side. How could he screw up so badly that he lost her? He had to know, so he wouldn't make the same mistake.

"It all ended shortly after we entered Baldur's Gate", she continued, leaving out most of the details for now. She couldn't bear to talk about all the manipulation Astarion put her through, the midnight surprises, the constant feeling of bloodloss. No. This should suffice for now. "He's grown incredibly powerful while he was with me. Don't underestimate him. He's unpredictable and way too strong."

"Why did you leave him?"

Tav's eyes darted all around. She looked up at the stars, praying for strength. She couldn't tell him. Not now. She'd risk Gortash going after him if he knew.

"He hurt me, Enver." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but even that was enough to awaken fury within him. "A lot. Let's leave it at that."

#Oathbreaker #little tyrant [enver gortash] #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #enver gortash #archduke enver gortash #lord enver gortash #fanfic #Oathbreaker fanfic

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Substatutiary

A short story for Zelink Week 2022’s ‘Statue’ prompt (see end for notes).

_____|O|----/O\____ |❤| (❤|

Zelda stood statuesque, two fingertips on the doorhandle, just as she’d done the minute before, and the five minutes before that (and perhaps longer), listening for any sign of his presence.  Her shoes dangled from her other hand’s limp fingers, their absence from her feet the last barrier between herself and sound.  She’d not yet summoned the strength to breach it, though this hardly surprised her—she’d never had much success in summoning anything.  A puff of laughter escaped her lips, and her breath caught just after.  Could he have heard that?

She could feel him there, waiting in the silence outside her chamber—flooding the hallway with it, bowing her door inward as the building pressure of rising water.

She refused to drown.

She refused to give in to her base urges.  She refused to give him the satisfaction.  Since their first accidental meeting—if one could call a fleeting glance such—he hadn’t spared her a moment’s notice.  As her father knighted him, as he swore him to her service as her appointed knight, not once did his eyes stray in her direction.  Not one word passed his lips.  His eyes moved, but otherwise he was as a statue himself—as she’d been before her sense of humor eroded her.

Apparently, she’d turned the doorhandle despite her shoeless feet.  The door swung inward, and she stepped into the hallway with as much stately nonchalance as barefoot allowed.

He was there as she’d sensed, his presence as voluminous as his voice was silent.  He’d been standing at an angle, his back facing the corner between her door and his, and her eyes had already trailblazed their way from the nape of his neck down the elegant curve of his back to a decidedly inappropriate location before she had time to regulate her response.  He turned to half-face her and nodded—a curt, businesslike acknowledgement of her presence—then stilled once more, his boots exactly forward and shoulder-width apart like a sculptor’s ideal of a guarding stance.  His face may as well have been wrought from stone for all it expressed.

No.  Stone may be inaccurate, for she’d certainly seen statues emote more than he.  Perhaps he was wrought of cast-iron or steel.

Steel implied other traits: courageous—mighty—tempered—characteristics she felt unwilling to process at present.  For if he was steel, she was gold: precious in appearance only, useful for little—at least, for little of value to anyone but her.

At least if he was stone, she could be silk: something smooth and pleasing, a suggestion only of what lay beneath.

She blinked that image into oblivion before it could run its course—before the memory of this man’s flashing blue eyes locked on hers in the training yard could pervade her consciousness too strongly.  These thoughts were beneath her, that was certain.  She oughtn’t have admired his figure.  It made his lack of interest in her all the more grating.

“Good morning, Knight.”

She received a nod identical to the first.

She shifted her weight to her left foot, forcing her hands to remain at her sides despite the sudden urge to hug herself.  “Well.  Here we are.  Today, I’d planned to spend the morning in the library, after which I would return to my study.  I would then perform my devotions in the chapel.  There is no need for you to accompany me.  I shall see you tomorrow.”

He blinked but made no move to directly acknowledge her dismissal.  Zelda closed her door and strode past him, the hem of her dress sweeping his shins with an audible zip in her haste and her still-bare feet silent on the hard floor.  She ignored both, as she’d intended to ignore him—yet as she stepped her fourth step beyond him, she heard one of his boots fall.  Then another.  And another.

She spun, her hands attempting to clasp over the bottom of her ribcage (her shoes prevented it).  “Knight.  Did you not hear me?  I said I had no need of your services today.”  Zelda used the pause to hurriedly slip her feet into her footwear.

After following her shoes’ progress, her knight’s eyes had alighted on some point above her left shoulder.  Her head twitched in that direction—perhaps there was a reason for his sudden attention to it.  ”You may go,” she repeated.  “Take the remainder of the day for training or leisure—it matters not.  There is no need for you to follow me.  Do you understand?”

He nodded identically—again—his gaze still glued to the same location.

She turned with cautious poise and attempted to discern whatever might be of interest behind her.  She saw nothing out of the ordinary: the stonework, a few deep divots in it here and there, several old paintings, a display of armor, the carpet, the sconces, the dust motes in the sunlight from the windows down the hall—none of it warranted rapt attention.

She forced herself not to shake her head and resumed her journey to the library.

His footsteps joined hers once more.

Her hackles rose.

Her heartbeat made itself unusually noticeable.

The tips of her ears heated.

She would not be angry.  To do so would be beneath her, for while irksome, his continuance warranted concern.  Was it possible he was deaf?  Could he have hidden such a disability?  Did he nod, and no more, because he had no idea what she’d said?

Worse was the possibility he’d heard her but not understood.  Could the chosen hero be so obtuse?  It seemed unlikely.

She paused and took two long, diaphragmatic breaths.  She then turned once more, infusing her countenance with as much patience as she’d need to approach a flock of spiteful gossip-mongers.  She studied his facial expression, willing herself not to see the surprising smoothness of his skin, its even tone, the strong arch of his brows, and cheekbones which would be the envy of every shallow-minded debutante ever to trivialize these halls with pointless competitions over who had the fewest visible freckles.  The only feature that wouldn’t have made it into an artist’s study of the ideal face were his cheeks.  She rather thought he resembled those she’d heard described as not having “lost their baby fat.”  They had a roundness to them which she’d found stubbornly cute and on which she resolved not to linger, her attention re-centering upon his eyes.  This time, he’d chosen a spot above her head to inspect.

“Knight.  It appears as though you do not, in fact, understand me.”

He made no response whatsoever.

“I shall rephrase.  I do not wish you to follow me.  I order you to leave.  You are dismissed.”

That, it seemed, had surprised him.  Those eyes came alive, roving suddenly in wild examination of the entire hallway—around to her left, then the floor between them, then her right, finally returning to the location above and beyond the crown of her head—but he still made no answer.

“Please nod if you understand I have ordered you not to accompany me.”

For the first time, his shape changed ever so slightly as a swallow made its way down his throat.  She pointedly avoided the bob of his voice-box (the lure of it in her peripheral vision stronger than she’d care to admit), and once she’d received the anticipated nod, she turned, convinced she had seen the last of him for the day.

His footsteps resumed.

It seemed so absurd, so impossible, so astounding that her own appointed knight would disobey a clear, direct order from her—she must have been misinterpreting his actions.  Surely his steps echoing hers would cease once they reached a junction--yes, of course they would--for until that point he had little choice but to follow her unless he wished to exit the castle walls via the stairs near her chamber.  Convinced she would hear him turn, her steps took on a brighter spring, and she considered what section of the library to raid that morning.  It contained little to aid her understanding of electrodynamics—she must ask Purah for such resources—but-

Her knight had not turned.

This could not be.

He could not possibly be so dense as to misunderstand her latest instruction. The chosen hero could also not possibly be a traitor capable of ignoring her orders entirely.  She must be reading entirely too much into it.  He was likely headed the same way as she.

She continued through the wide hall connecting the two high halves of the island.  At each junction, she listened for his footsteps to slow, to decrease in proximity, or to change direction.  They reached the long set of stairs leading to the top library floor’s sweeping arch, and still he remained with her.  Perhaps he would pass through the library on his way elsewhere.  Perhaps he wished to visit the docks or the mess hall.  She’d heard of his voracious appetite—yes, that was the most likely explanation.  She would enter the stacks to select her books, and he would be gone.

Her gait had sped unbidden to the point she was near to jogging when she stepped onto the cavernous library’s balcony, her clamorous footsteps drawing the stares of the dozen or so people on the bottom floor and a few on her level.  She accelerated further and a spark of irritation sent her hurtling between a set of bookshelves quite irrelevant to any academic objectives she might pursue—yet still, he was her shadow.

She was Zelda, Princess of Hyrule.  She may not live up to all she wished, but she was that.  She would not snap at her fledgling knight in what should be a quiet library.  She would not disturb the scholars.  She wouldn’t even disturb that farcical woman from Maritta who ostensibly read for pleasure despite feasting her eyes on the newly-hired junior librarian.  Quiet in a library was sacred.  She would therefore remain calm.

She spun, meaning to stare him down, yet found it impossible.  One could not effectively glare if the subject of said glaring refused to participate.  He had once more chosen a location entirely external to her to focus upon—this time, a book somewhere behind and to her right—and the contest of wills could not begin.

He had stonewalled her with utter disinterest: by a silence so complete as to be insolent.

The experience deviated in every aspect from the types of disrespect she’d come to expect… and accept.

Where veiled insults, half-muttered, followed her throughout the halls, she endured them.  If nothing else, they provided certainty—she knew their thoughts without doubt.  Silence had been as her balm: the walls of her study, its height shielding her from whispers; the moonstruck quiet of a book read by windowlight long after her guard presumed her asleep; the finality of dismissal as the guards’ footsteps receded each morning—for she had no need of escort within her own castle.  Silence was absence.  Silence was freedom.  Silence was her own thoughts.

Yet here stood her appointed knight, statuesque in ineffable arrogance, the leaden quiet of his company muzzling her mind with ambiguity.  This silence was presence.  This silence was subjugation.  This silence replaced her thoughts with extrapolations of his.

This was unacceptable.

He would not take this solace from her without a fight.

She clenched her fists tight—a funnel for the negative emotions she anticipated—and closed the space between them in three long strides.  It earned her a blink: one little victory.  She attempted not to reveal how much she relished it as she spoke a bit nearer to his face than courtly courtesy would allow (though likely a prim distance at any number of pubs in town).

“You have disobeyed a direct order from the Princess of Hyrule, Knight,” she hissed.

He blinked once more. His eyes flicked to just above her own, then shot to her left.

“I could, perhaps, see how my more subtle words might elude one accustomed to direct orders as opposed to suggestion—if that person lacks subtlety themselves.”  She’d spat that last out with more venom than she’d intended, and her cheeks gained the faintest touch of pink, not from anger but shame.  Her point did require making, so she strove not to berate herself (until later).  “It is, however, impossible to reconcile your current behavior with my last order.  How do you explain yourself?”

She waited.

She continued to wait.

His eyes flickered all about her: to the economics books on her left, the animal husbandry books on her right, the smooth stones beneath her feet, her shoes, the window behind her (he may in fact have traced its entire outline and the borders of each pane not blocked by her body), the sconce beside it, the less-than-fascinating masonry of the wall itself, the wooden chair set beside a short table for reading beneath the window.  For one infuriating instant, his eyes may have alighted on hers as they passed her and began working their way along the top of the bookcase, as though there might be assassins hiding between it and the ceiling!

She felt an eye-twitch coming on.  It became irresistible as the silence stretched, and she finally whispered, “Well?”

Her fists tightened (and tightened, and tightened, and tightened some more).  Her nails threatened to break her skin (how undeniably foolish of her, for she would have to explain any wounds on her skin to her lady’s maid at the very least, and she’d have to disinfect them, only further disrupting her day).  How could the hero chosen by the sword that steals the darkness be so impudent?

At long last, a sliver of a crack appeared in his stony visage.  His lips parted.  He drew a quiet breath.  He looked somewhere over her shoulder as the quietest voice she’d heard in many a year eventually, finally, at long last, issued from his chiseled face.  “I can’t.”

It was her turn to blink.

She blinked more.

She felt her own eyebrows crawling toward her hairline as a peculiar tightening of her chest muscles spread from her stomach upward, eventually reaching her throat, her jaw, her mouth, her cheeks.  She had the presence of mind to wonder whether her current appearance reflected a snarl.  She didn’t feel like tamping it down.  “You what?”

His head jerked upward a tiny fraction.  Had she not been so near or so focused on him, she mightn’t have noticed.  “I can’t, Princess.”

Her snarl became a gape.

Surely he didn’t think his use (or lack thereof) of her title was the issue here.

Surely he could not think that.

Perhaps she’d been incorrect in her evaluation of the entire situation.

Perhaps he was, in fact, a dullard.

Perhaps he was deaf, and simply guessing at what she’d said.

Perhaps she was insane or asleep (this seemed likely—she ought to have considered it earlier).

With a few unconscious breaths tense in the extreme, she decided to probe further.  She could, perhaps, ascertain whether his hearing was the issue.  “You can’t what, Knight?”

The crack appeared once more.  “I can’t forsake my duty toward you, Princess, even if ordered to.”

A part of her reveled in the victory of enticing so much speech from him.  Another part registered his perfectly adequate hearing.  Another dropped from her gullet to the deepest part of her gut and said no.

He could not possibly intend to follow her everywhere within her own castle.  Could he?

The myriad of guards who’d stood at her tower door for the past twelve years had never resisted dismissal.  Even when leaving castle grounds, when traveling with Sheikah, they’d always let her be.  She’d never attempted to avoid them otherwise, while traveling, she supposed… but in the castle… in the castle….

How dare he?

He would not ruin silence and solitude for her.  She would not allow it.

She stalked past him and made her way hastily through the stacks, plucking books from the shelves.  His footsteps dogged her.  She resisted flinching at each one.  She felt eyes on them both and ignored those with the resolution of a honeyvore bear tongue-deep in a beehive.  In under an hour, she had a heavy armload of books and made for the archway to the stairs from which they’d entered.

He made to take the books from her.  She rotated her stack away from him with a challenge on her face, and he thankfully backed off.  She held her back ramrod straight as she led the way back to her chamber, at which point he moved as if to open the door for her.

“I do not require your assistance,” she said with a quiet bubbling fury which surprised even her.

She balanced her books on one arm and opened the door herself.  It swung in, she stepped past it and turned, trying but failing not to glare too much at her personal travesty of a knight as she shut the door behind her.

She frankly felt proud of herself for not slamming it in his face.

A few minutes later, she sighed with relief as her heartrate finally began to decrease.  She’d just seated herself in her personal study tower, a book regarding recessive botanical traits open in her lap, summer sun streaming in the open windows and a refreshing breeze blowing in from the north.  She imagined it smelled of the wheat plains of Tabantha and wondered idly of its yields this year.  She liked to keep herself appraised of such things.  Her father would not be king forever.

A sound on the bridge startled her, the pages of her book flapping upward then flopping onto the hardback as she flung her gaze out the open door.

There he was.

He’d drawn his sword (likely the sound she’d heard) and had begun practicing forms on the bridge between her towers.

She willed her breathing into submission.

He wasn’t watching her.

He wasn’t in this room with her.

He wasn’t preventing her from studying, nor was he attempting to force her into more prayer time as others often did (sometimes rudely, and sometimes with an insincere sort of concern which sent her smile to an inwardly facetious location).

She would read.  It was as simple as that.

And he would remain outside.

At least her father would have to go through him first.

She returned to her book.

It was difficult to read with her right leg fidgeting the whole time.

-----

She’d spoken with her father.

He’d congratulated her appointed knight for infuriating her.

She’d spoken to her knight.

He’d ignored her.

He’d chosen an elite group of knights to function as her personal guard, rather as the royal guard protected her father.

She grudgingly approved of his choices.  She made no outward sign of this toward him.

She greeted each and every member of her new guard politely and cheerfully when the occasion arose.  They typically relieved Link late each evening.

She initially declined to greet Link at all (most of the time—an occasional, inexplicable stab of something in her chest led to some slips in her silent indignation; she was, after all, an imperfect being).  She attended to her prayer as dutifully as she ever had, and more so.  She continued to disregard both his silence and others’ whispers, and his impassivity regarding said whispers.  She made her studies despite him and found brief relief whenever she would visit the royal lab.  Her knight, as expected, accompanied her always—never assigning any of her other guards to do so—but he allowed her respite sometimes when inside the lab itself.  He often remained with the horses.  Occasionally, when he did enter (presumably to confirm no one had murdered her), he seemed more than passingly curious about the various ancient technology components strewn about the workbenches, but he never asked after them.

She always followed such journeys by visiting the Cathedral in Castle Town, and he accompanied her there, too.  She bristled when the clergy admonished her in front of him.  She needed no more reasons to feel inadequate in his presence.  His predictable silence elicited a sinking feeling within her: a bottomless pit of certainty that his worth in the eyes of the Goddess far exceeded her own.

As the weeks passed, a desperate need for his absence clawed at the inside of her skin and she shifted tactics, greeting her appointed knight as cheerfully as any other while giving him small tasks to do on the spot.  He did each without question. Then she sprung her trap.  She ordered him to fetch a book she’d supposedly forgotten in her study.

Her statue blinked at her (she’d come to recognize this as his first step toward some form of independent locomotion—something other than shadowing her). His eyes became comically wide.  He then nodded, springing through the door to her bedroom as would an overlarge, spooked hare.

A momentary lapse led her to muse on his sudden pivot from petrification to petrified—she suspected he suspected her.  Her delayed realization of his speed wiped an unbidden smirk from her face, and she hurried to action herself, swiftly but silently exiting through the door to the outer stairs and tiptoeing around to stand directly below her bridge.  She heard his footsteps despite their surprising lightness as he bounded over the bridge.  They stilled as he likely searched for the book title she’d given, but it took him surprisingly little time to locate it (despite her having tossed it beneath quite a few other books, with yet more books and papers stacked on each side).  She heard him return, pound his way down her spiral staircase, and enter the hallway.

When next she heard silence, an undefeatable grin of bliss she hadn’t felt in well over a month spread across her face.

She waited a solid half-hour before creeping down the stairs toward a tiny grass shelf she knew lay around the south end of the castle wall at the stairway’s second landing.  At this morning hour, the front-facing structures further to the south shaded the area, preventing it from becoming too hot.  She opened the other book she’d ‘remembered’ and read to her heart’s content, ignoring the slight dampness of the ground against her bottom.

Some things were worth moist undergarments.

Far later, well over an hour after the Sun found her hiding place, the heat began to take its toll, and she broke from the grass shelf.  She had taken a few steps toward her study when she realized someone was most likely waiting for her at her chamber’s entrance, be it Link or one of her newfound personal guards.  She hesitated, thinking to find a new hiding place, then thought better of it.  Her rear had been wet for hours.  Only so much was worth it.  She hugged the book to her chest and traipsed in as stately a manner as possible back up the stairs.

She didn’t notice the figure on the rampart high above her, her very own personal gargoyle crouching in silent vigil.

_____

The trip to Tabantha presented a few opportunities and unexpected sources of enjoyment.

Revali’s attitude toward her knight was, tactfully put, uncivil.  Link remained as unmovable as ever.  Unlike when she’d challenged his behavior, he didn’t blink at the Rito’s blatant insults.

Zelda refused to be impressed.

She expected to relish the time on Medoh away from her knight, as Revali had flatly refused to transport him.

“Let him find his own way up if he’s so great,” he’d said.

She’d smiled at Revali, then wondered at her own listlessness as the smile faded.  That pang of something appeared once more in her chest.

She ignored it.

(She’d been doing a lot of ignoring, lately).

She couldn’t resist the temptation to peer out one of Medoh’s glorious, angled windows downward at the speck of champion blue below—waiting for her, stock-still, on one of the wooden landings in Rito Village.

She dallied (though she wouldn’t admit it) near those windows, taking her time adjusting the calibration of one of the magnet-supports, Revali huffing with ruffled neck-feathers at her side.

When she glided down on Revali’s back, her knight appeared not to have altered his stance since early that morning.

That something was becoming more annoying.

She’d included the ancient columns in her travel itinerary both out of scholarly interest and as a remote location in which she might be able to lose her shadow.

They’d rambled on the road toward the Rayne Highlands, Zelda stalling the entire way (she agonized over the perfect angle for a glorious landscape-photo from the center of Kolami Bridge, gathered samples of still-green Tabantha wheat to compare to fully-mature grains later in the season, stopped to include every local example of flora and fauna in her growing compendium, drank unnecessarily copious amounts of water—which necessitated frequent stops for multiple reasons), and she began to genuinely enjoy herself.  She filled the breeze-blanketed peace of the open road with her excitable voice, and while Link did not reply, neither did he interrupt, scoff, or ignore her entirely as others so often had.  On occasion, she found herself smiling brightly, and upon turning toward him and seeing his eyes fixed on whatever she’d been speaking of, a new spark of irritation would light behind her breastbone, and she’d withdraw for a while into academic concentration.

Her knight chose not to sleep whenever they camped outside for the night, and she bled that wound for all it was worth despite her clearly illusory moments of forgetfulness.  She reigned in Tass (though he didn’t at all like it, and he showed it by tossing his gigantic snow-white head).  She insisted the horses needed to stop to graze more often than they did.  She dismounted even more frequently to study all sorts of plants, taking detailed measurements and notes regarding the environment.  In a way, she lamented the speed of capturing perfect likenesses on the slate, since sketching would have taken longer, but she found other ways to slow them down: taking a bath in a convenient waterfall-fed pool, for example.  She briefly considered not actually bathing, attempting to slip away from him then, but then her planning would have been for naught.

When she judged they were within a few hours’ ride of the ancient columns, she called a halt and began studiously collecting samples of perfectly ordinary flora.

“It will be interesting to compare these to specimens from Hyrule field,” she said, flattening a chamomile flower between two sheets of clean wax paper before placing those between the pages of a large book packed for just this purpose.  She adjusted their placement with care, watching her knight out of the corner of her eye, expecting perhaps an eye-roll at her even flimsier excuse for a delay than usual.  Instead, his gaze flickered about, searching, presumably, for threats to her life.  When she finished pressing examples of every plant she felt she could get away with, she studiously re-packed the book in a large drawstring sack before placing it in a large leather saddlebag.  Tass huffed at her.  She resisted the urge to return the impatient gesture.

She turned to her knight, keeping her eyes on him rather than the not-so-setting-Sun and declaring, “It’s getting rather late.  We shall make camp here, Sir Knight.”

He did blink repeatedly, then, and she watched the motion with interest.  He hadn’t done that for quite some time.  She moved to walk past him to scout a flat space for her tent but observed his eyes as she did so.

They were quite bloodshot.

There was that something once more.

It persisted well into the night.

The first several times she’d slept in her tent, he’d stood as a monolith, feet perfectly square beneath his shoulders, his arms hanging ready to draw his sword.

The next few times, he’d still stood, but fidgeted considerably more.

The night before this, he’d sat roughly five feet from her tent.

She was fairly certain he’d do so again, and that she had him.

She was correct.

She made certain not to sleep that night.  She pinched herself.  She rubbed peppermint oil beneath her nostrils.  She’d taken a tiny, waxed cheesecloth bag of black pepper into the tent with her and placed some on her tongue occasionally.  She’d have brewed coffee had she thought it wouldn’t make him suspicious.

Then, it finally happened.

She heard an extremely soft (and irritatingly cute) snore outside her tent.

She exited with supreme caution.

He was seated, as he had been the previous night, outside her tent flap.  He’d rested his cheekbone against his closed fist, elbow on his thigh, legs crossed.

It seemed more than a little precarious to her, and she likely had little time.

She snuck with a quiet pride in her chest toward Tass and untied his tether.  The horse remained mercifully quiet as she led him softly from the campsite.  His hooves made rhythmic noise as they shifted all night—she hoped it didn’t sound much different to Link’s sleeping ears as Tass walked with her.

She mounted once she deemed them far enough to dare, and by then the horse was more than slightly irritable.  She hadn’t allowed him to stop and graze much.

“You shall have your chance when we arrive,” she whispered.

She’d memorized the map so as to not require it in the dark.  She spurred Tass on toward freedom with confidence.  Only once did she experience a pang of fear—she thought she’d seen a hulking shape move in a copse of trees—but nothing followed her and as the sky lightened, she saw her destination: a curved slope up and to the east, riddled with blasted stone ruins sprinkled with ivy, complete with an ancient road of stone to lead her way right up to the shrine she’d come to study.

----

She found her mood deteriorating further and further as the once-dawning Sun arced its way toward mid-morning, beating on her mainly dark-colored clothes and their indifferent insistence on efficient light-absorption.  She’d nearly emptied her canteen (out of necessity this time) and she’d not eaten—she could, of course—she’d not been so foolish as to leave without food packed—but to do so would require a break, and she preferred not to waste whatever amount of alone-time she had left.

She hadn’t slept, either, and she kept wondering how much that had contributed to her lack of success.  Granted, no one else had been able to enter these shrines, either, but Zelda had successfully activated the compendium and homing features on the slate, including its ability to find shrines, and she’d hoped it would allow her to activate them once reached (for the slate sensed the shrines’ proximity—for what other reason would its programming require it to know when it had arrived at its door?).

Could she have tested this on the shrine in Rito village?

Of course.

Did she?

Of course not.

Her knight would have seen her fail, then (as would Revali, and that would have made it all the more unpleasant—seeing he and her knight finally find common ground in disdain for her would, perhaps, have entirely undone her).

She wondered, then, and not for the first time, whether the vague scraps of language in Ancient Sheikah texts referring to the shrines’ connection to the hero meant only he could access them.  She muttered her thoughts aloud to herself, frustratedly tapping the slate to the pedestal (which worked in Purah’s lab), thinking perhaps she could work around whatever activation protocols were in place by altering the wiring within the pedestal (could she open it—they were notoriously stubborn to tampering).

She heard the sound of approaching hoofbeats.

She began breathing rapidly.

She oughtn’t be angry.  She oughtn’t.

She’d known he would come.  She’d meant him to.  If she hadn’t, she’d have gone somewhere else rather than their supposed travel destination (or she’d have given him a false destination in the first place).

Yet he was about to witness yet another one of her failures, and this one at something she was supposed to be good at.

He’d had the horse at a full gallop, and he’d barely slowed the mare before hopping off and jogging toward Zelda-

-and looking absolutely everywhere except at her.

Those sparks of irritation she’d felt at his eyes on flowers, and grass, and rocks, and birds, and tree leaves, and apples, and every single thing she’d chattered about on their journey here except for her bundled with the shock of those first days when his footsteps inexplicably followed hers no matter where she went, even though his eyes never would and she roiled at him.

She glared at him as she never had, her eyes emerald-hard, and he must have seen it in his own eyes’ wanderings, and it must have been some sight to behold, because suddenly—infuriatingly—he did look at her.

Later, she would wonder at her abject irrationality, for a logical mind would assume her anger would ebb once he finally graced her with his full attention.

“I thought I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort,” she said, her voice deceptively calm.

He stilled, marble once more, this time with tourmaline eyes fastened on her mouth.  Maybe he knew she was near explosion.  Maybe he thought he could avoid it if he made no sudden moves.

Or maybe he just had absolutely no idea how tiresome his ever-present disinterest had become.

Zelda expelled a hearth-hot huff.  “It seems I’m the only one with a mind of my own.”

His solid apathy seemed in agreement.

“I, the person in question, am fine, regardless of the king’s orders.”

His face hadn’t moved, but it wasn’t actually stone.  Of course, it wasn’t.  He had simply substituted petrification for whatever occurred within his impenetrable head.  She squashed a childish urge to poke one of his incongruously-rounded cheeks as she began stomping toward the horses.

“Return to the castle.  And tell that to my father, please.”

Blinks.

Nothing but blinks.

Eyelids moving rapidly over his stupid, bright, shiny, nauseatingly attractive eyes.

No, not attractive!  What was she thinking?

Fighting heat of all sorts pressing both inward and outward on her skin, she spun on him and surprised even herself, yelling, “And stop following me!”

She glared at his stony (handsome) face with her head and torso thrust toward him, waiting for herself to calm down or for him to bloody well do something about it!

He didn’t.

He stood there.

And stood there.

And stood there.

But something had changed.

He wasn’t holding her gaze, but he wasn’t looking past her, either.

His eyes had locked right between her eyebrows.

His lips twitched the tiniest fraction.

She thought for a moment—just a moment—his eyes looked brighter than usual.  Wetter.

But that was madness.

She couldn’t make statues talk.

She couldn’t make them cry, either.

Yet follow her, they did of their own volition, dogging her life’s moments, and they would until the Calamity came, wouldn’t they?

She nearly laughed.

Statues.

Hylia. Her appointed knight.

Neither would speak with her.

Perhaps she should try yelling when in the Cathedral next.

Zelda would consider tears on Hylia’s soapstone cheeks a victory.

Her knight’s gaze had moved to Zelda’s lips, which were awfully dry, and a moment later he moved toward her.

Her heart nigh-on ceased to beat.  His eyes on her lips.   Was he—did he like seeing her angry?  Was he going to-

-he offered her his canteen.

His canteen for her dry lips.

Of course.

And then, she felt tears spring from the ducts in her own eyes, and she widened them with haste—that the air may dry them first, so they never fall.

She was thirsty.

And he could move when he wished to.

And he was attentive.  That very first day as her appointed knight, he’d tried to hold her books and open the door for her when she refused.

He simply hadn’t had the same experience as her the day they saw each other for the first time.  How handsome he’d seemed in his very ordinary training gear then, ever-so-slightly sweating in the heat of mid-summer, with his unusual earrings and quirkily matching hair-band, and with no sacred sword on his back or any inkling it would become his.

When his eyes had met hers that day, she thought she’d met the love of her life—how else to explain the sweeping glow of joy fused unbidden to her entire being at the sight of him?

How wrong she had been.

She’d half a plan hatched to walk the hallways ‘til she ran into him so she could inundate him with questions about those earrings of his—at least as a start.  Then he’d pulled the sword and he’d very nearly never looked at her again.

She waved his canteen off and opened hers—she still had some left—wetting her lips sheepishly.  She turned to mount Tass without a word, pausing again as she noticed the state of Link’s horse.  He hadn’t packed her.  No tent—no bedroll.  He’d woken and rushed after her without delay.

She knew the something would hit again before it did.  It hit harder this time.  It hit like a thrown rock—like a piece of Hylia’s soundless soapstone.

“Let’s clean up the camp,” Zelda said, and she mounted Tass.  She spurred him to a trot without a single glance at her knight.

She had no doubt he would follow.

That fate seemed carved in stone.

_____|O|----/O\____ |❤| (❤|

[Note: Thank you to @newtsnaturethings for helping me with some language for this fic!]

[Note: Substatutiary is an amalgamation of the prefix sub, statue, and substitutionary, the idea being that both Link and Zelda here are substituting 'statuesque' or stoic facial expressions for what they're actually feeling (this goes for their body language, too... and Link's doing it a lot more than Zelda is). Substatutiary is not in the dictionary.]

[Note: This fic is part of the Adventure Log+ AU which you can find on my fic masterlist. It's a direct prequel to Link's Thought Brambles.]

Here's my Zelink Week 2022 fic post list.

@zelinkweekofficial

#zelink week 2022 #botw #zelda #zelink #loz #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #fanfic #adventure log+ au #prequel #pre-calamity #statue #statue prompt

[angrelysimpping]

Eheh, here's Logan again =3=

Contents: solo male masturbation; i....think that's it?

The door was locked. The door was locked and nobody was home. No one would be home for a day or two, Logan left on his own. Still, he kept going over to the door, double checking, making sure it was locked, nerves jittering under his skin each time he thought to check. 

This would get him nowhere. He’d been…frustrated, for a lack of a better word. Normally he didn’t really get like this, but it’d been gnawing away at him all day. Made his fingers twitch, his skin prickle. It was dangerous, really. He spent so much of his time tinkering with volatile substances, he really couldn’t afford to get distracted like this. 

He had to do it. Logan had to do it. 

He checks the lock again, confirming for the nth time it was locked, before wedging his desk chair under the knob for extra measure. Satisfied, he shuffles over to his bed. 

God, he was so stupid for this. Being so paranoid just to jack off, setting down a fucking towel on his bed, the lube he'd stolen from the corner store on his nightstand between miscellaneous scraps of metal and a hello kitty pocket knife his cousin had given him. And then here he was, getting all in his head about everything when he’d been half hard for a good twenty minutes now, tears threatening to well up as he tries not to think for five seconds and just enjoy himself.

Logan shimmies out of his pants, letting them fall to the floor in a heap, and climbs into bed. He takes a moment to get comfortable, trying not to think too much about anything, before grabbing his phone and sliding on headphones. 

It didn’t take much, really. Just looking at the thumbnails got him to full mast. But, now came the mortifying ordeal of choosing something. 

Logan doesn’t look, clicking something at random and propping his phone on his nightstand before grabbing the lube. Squirting a generous amount into his hand before quickly grabbing his dick, he squeaks at the cold gel but doesn't let go, slowly pumping his shaft. 

As the porn progresses and the lube warms up, he lets his eyes drift closed, head tilting back to rest against the wall as he tries to lose himself. It works, for a bit. A low moan in his ear as he’s thumbing over his tip, free hand scraping over his chest before diving down to squeeze his balls. He doesn’t look at the screen, can barely stand the thought of seeing someone's eyes looking into the camera, looking at him, as he starts to pump his cock faster. 

“Let me ride you,” one of the actors murmurs, and Logan can’t help the small whine he lets out, eyes still squeezed shut as he nods his head as if agreeing to the act. 

He tries to mimic it, what he thinks being ridden would feel like, to have someone sit on his cock and fuck themselves on him like he was nothing more than a dildo. The thought makes his cheeks warm, cock twitching in his grip as pleasure pools in his gut. 

“Fuck me harder,” the actor whispers in Logan’s headphones and he’s fucking up into his fist before he can even think. He could cum like this, he could. Another high-pitched whine pulled from him as the pleasure in his gut builds, the telltale signs of his approaching orgasm tingling down his spine. 

But then the screaming starts. The loud, fake screams of ecstasy that rips Logan back into reality. 

He scrambles to click off the video, not bothering to check what he's switching to. 

It's a hentai. A succubus, a small succubus man, sucking off a human, the human's legs over the succubus' shoulders. 

Logan's cock twitches in his still hand. As if in a trance he starts stroking himself again, eyes glued to the screen. 

The scene hard cuts to the succubus fingering himself, and Logan's breathing becomes heavier. He's…never touched himself like that, but…it looks…nice. Like it'd feel good. Lube and precum coats Logan's cock, more than enough for him to gather some up, idly circling the rim of his asshole. 

He can't do it, can't push past the tight ring of muscles, face burning at the thought, but it still feels good. A feather-light pleasure that makes his heart race. 

Another hard cut, the succubus getting railed from behind, fisting his cock. Logan freezes, brain scrambling, trying to cast himself in one of the roles. Leaning over the succubus' back, moaning into his skin, unable to stop fucking forward even if he wanted to? Or the role of succubus, a chest pressed to his back, split open on a fat cock, a hand covering his own as he jerked off? 

His hips start to move on their own, fucking up into his hand and rocking down on his fingers. Trying to keep in time with the characters on screen, Logan quickly finds himself hurtling towards his end, thighs tensing, balls tightening. He knows he's being loud, moans and whines flowing freely as he chases his pleasure. He can't hear himself over the video, though, allowing Logan to keep going without overthinking a single thing. 

Finally, he cums, body trembling as semen coats his hand. Almost immediately he collapses back onto his bed, eyes shutting for the first time since the hentai started. For a moment, Logan’s brain is blissfully empty, thin chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, audio of the hentai still playing as his brain floats. 

Slowly, Logan starts to come back to himself. That had been….intense. Far more intense than any other time he’d touched himself. His brain is still moving at half speed as he props himself back up, grimacing at the dull ache in his back and thighs. That’ll hurt tomorrow, but, at the moment, it’s almost nice, the small reminder of how thoroughly he’s been satisfied. 

Logan tries to wipe back a few stray strands of blue hair that are stuck to his face with sweat, only to flinch as he inadvertently smears a mix of cum and lube across his cheek. Looking down at the mess he’s made of himself, Logan’s face burns. 

It was…definitely a good thing he’d put down a towel.

#quiet ocs #logan s. canns #tw masterbation #cw masterbation

[ragewerthers]

Mind The Flowers

Summary:

A terrible week at his beloved flower shop 'Ume' leaves Ushijima wondering his worth.

But perhaps with the help of the plants he looks after he may find the comfort and love he so freely gives to others returned to him tenfold.

A/n:

Hello!

This is a birthday gift for my friend @ticklygiggles

I hope that you enjoy it, my friend and that it gives you a good dose of magical Ushi!!!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39082635

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 4572

--------------------------

To anyone passing by, the front door of ‘Ume’ would’ve looked like any other shop front.  Perhaps a little more aged then some as the sage colored paint had slowly started to be worn down by the countless people who visited each day.

But if someone were to have stopped to try and open the well used door, they would’ve found that not only was the sign flipped to ‘Sorry, We Are Closed’, but they would’ve also noticed the snake like tendrils of rose thorns coiling slowly around it.  An extra level of security as these plants were particularly protective of what was inside.

Their beloved Earth Mage, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It was a gift that had been passed down through the Wakatoshi bloodline.  The power to commune with nature and use it for the benefit of others.

Granted his mother had never been too charmed at the idea that he wanted to open up a flower shop, thinking that he was squandering his talent for petty fees.  But it was more than that to Ushijima.

It was a way for him to help others without drawing attention to himself.

He could imbue his plants with health, calmness, protectiveness and when people came into his shop looking for that perfect gift or looking like they could use a little help themselves, he could be there to offer advice and perhaps something more for them to take to make their day or their lives better.

No one knew of his magic.  If they did, who would’ve believed them anyway?  But Ushi preferred it like this.  He didn’t want the notoriety.  He just wanted to help.

However, this week had whittled him down to the point that he wondered why he tried so hard in the first place.

Sitting over in the corner of his shop near his workbench, Ushijima ran a hand over his face, his tired eyes trying to focus on the multiple arrangements he had set before him.  He could feel the pull of his magic amongst his beloved plants, but even that couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying.

It had been a far too tiresome week.  While there had been many good customers, there had also been some true terrors.

The lady who thought that his flowers were priced too high and lacked quality. Trying to get deals and discounts by mocking what he worked so hard to create.

The man who said he was going to sue because he touched a rose stem and nicked his finger.  Even after Ushijima had warned him that the flowers he was looking at had been de-thorned yet as they were still growing.

The mother who had let her child run wild in the shop and after the boy had destroyed two planters containing young saplings he’d gotten especially for an older couple, decided that no, she wasn’t going to pay.  He should’ve had signs up warning them that they were there and to stay away from them if they were so delicate.

He had warned them.

There were signs!

But that mattered little to people who didn’t care for others and their livelihoods.

Ushi glanced over at the young trees that were now currently recovering in two five gallon buckets he’d found in the back room.  A few branches had been twisted wrong and one had lost a few leaves, but they were hearty and would make a comeback.

That was something he always admired about plants.

They could go through so much and still bounce back with just a little love and attentiveness.

Glancing up the stairs to his home, he wished he was brave enough to ask his partners for the same sort of help.

Feeling a little nudge to his cheek he looked over to see one of the silver lace vines attempting to cuddle up to him.

They were one of his sweeter and gentler plants and wanted to bring peace to those around them.  A plant he often recommended to people who came into his shop looking harried and tense.  They needed something to bring some soothing to their lives and these little guys were just the ticket.

“I’m alright,” he offered gently as the vine receded.  The little smile that had appeared on his face disappeared just as quickly as it had come, however.

He could hear the rustle of the plants around him.  They could tell that something was wrong with him and that wouldn’t do.

They were good plants and Ushijima appreciated their attentiveness.  He could feel in his heart how much it meant to him to know that the plants that he labored hours over and cared for wanted to show him just as much love and protection back.

What he wasn’t expecting was to then also feel his heart rate spike as two equal screams of terror sounded from above him in his shared apartment with his boyfriends.  Daichi Sawamura and Iwazumi Hajime.

While Ushijima’s week had been less than ideal he knew that his two partners had been just as busy if not busier.

Daichi’s job as a police officer was constantly stressful and Hajime had just gotten some time away from his own job at the local clinic where he worked as a physical therapist.

Both men had been under a lot of stress lately as well and the last thing Ushi had wanted to do was put more on them by telling them about the week he’d been having.

It wasn’t important.

He was just dealing with irritable customers.  That was miniscule in the grand scheme of things.  Especially when Daichi and Iwa were both out there trying to make the world a better place by either protecting people or easing their pain.

Currently, however, Ushi couldn’t say that either of his partners were feeling protected or good in any sense of the word.  Not if the shouts and clatters from above were anything to go by. But before he could react he found the source of the commotion.

Apparently, the plants he loved so much had decided that they needed back up in the ‘we need to make Ushijima feel better’ department and had gone in search of reinforcements.

 A few of the Akebia vines had managed to sneak up the stairs into the apartment and were currently dragging his boyfriends down into the shop.

Daichi was the first one to be brought down, flailing slightly with his hands still covered in soap suds from doing dishes.  That must’ve been the clattering from before.  Ushijima hoped he hadn’t caused any broken dishes by his unruly plants.

Then Iwa appeared, the man's hair a complete mess and his clothes askew as Ushi realized he had probably just been napping on the sofa before his plants decided to kidnap him.

Before Ushi knew it both men were placed in front of his work station, Daichi looking flushed and livid and Hajime looking confused and angry.

The vines had slowly receded from both men and Ushi could hear the rustling of leaves around him, letting him know that the plants were absolutely thrilled with themselves for their brilliance.

But judging by the twin looks his partners were giving him… they were less than thrilled.

Clearing his throat a little, Ushi's poor brain could only think of one thing to do.

“Hello,” he said quietly, bringing his hand up and giving them both a little wave.

“Hello?  Hello?!” Iwa growled, his eyes still slightly unfocused as he tried to rationalize being brought down here by his boyfriends magic plants.  It’s not like he or Sawamura didn’t know that their partner held magic that was beyond belief, but when you are pulled out of a dream where you are winning a game of volleyball against Shitty-kawa only to find yourself being dragged across the floor to the basement you tend to freak out just a little bit. 

“Ushijima Wakatoshi…,” Daichi’s voice broke in, his sudsy hands on his hips as he glared at the man.  It would’ve been almost comical if he didn’t look so close to yelling at Ushijima for the shenanigans his plants had just pulled.  “You better have a damn good reason for what just happened up there because now I’ve got a mess in the kitchen I’m gonna have to take care of because of you and those vines!” 

“I um… it… I didn’t…,” Ushi tried to explain, but the words seemed to be failing him as the beating of his heart began to thud louder and louder in his ears.

“What do you mean you ‘didn’t’?” Iwa broke in, his eyes a little more focused now, but his anger still bubbling under the surface.

Ushijima felt his neck flush and he glanced down at his lap, swallowing thickly as he saw how upset his partners were because of him.  Because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check and just deal with a terrible week like everyone should be able to.

Why couldn’t he just ignore what those people had said?

Ignore how they had treated him and his plants?

Ignored how their words stung and made him feel like all he tried to do was really so little that perhaps it wasn’t worth it?

And now he’d managed to upset the two people he cared most about in the world.

“...-shi?  Ushi?  Ushi, love, please, look at me?”

Ushi’s eyes snapped open.  

When had he closed them?  

His hands were balled tightly into the fabric of the gardening apron he still wore, soft vines and small briars snaking down his arms and across his chest in a protective barrier.

He could feel the warmth of a hand against his cheek and glancing up slowly he could see both Daichi and Iwa crouched down in front of him, Daichi’s palm carefully cradling his jaw as their twin looks of worry and confusion replaced the earlier anger that had been there.

“Breathe for us, Ushijima.  Okay?” Hajime said gently, bringing a hand up carefully to brush through the man's hair in a way he knew grounded him.

Closing his eyes, Ushijima took in a shaky breath, halting halfway through as he felt the bubble of emotions he’d been suppressing all week threatening to burst in his chest.

“That’s it.  You’re doing great, sweetheart,” Daichi murmured, his deep voice soothing to Ushijima’s ears.

The mage carefully continued to take in deep breaths, the action becoming easier and easier as he listened to the gentle voices of the ones he loved offering words of comfort to him.

Slowly the vines and briars that had started to take over him began to move back, allowing Daichi and Iwa to move closer.  Hajime got up and stood beside his partner to wrap an arm around his shoulders and Daichi brought his hands down to gently cover his darlings, trying to relax and soothe them.

“Ushi… can you tell us what’s wrong?” Hajime asked gently, ducking down to press a soft kiss to the top of Ushi’s head.

Daichi nodded.  “I’m sorry for sounding so stern, love.  The plants… surprised me a bit.  Well… more than a bit,” he said with a little smile though Ushi only ducked down a little more, his breath hitching slightly.

“I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered, something he wasn’t prone to doing and that made his partners look at each other with more concern.  Ushijima always spoke with clarity.  He never jilted his words or stumbled over them.

What had they been missing?

“No, no.  You have nothing to apologize for,” Daichi reassured, soothing his thumbs over Ushi’s knuckles as the man’s hands started to release their iron grip on his poor apron.  “I do.  I let my temper get the better of me in a moment where you obviously needed us.”

“What Dai said,” Iwa agreed gently, letting his hand start to soothe over Ushi’s upper back, mindful of the tendrils of leafy vines that were still receding from their protective cover of their dear Ushi.  “I’m sorry I snapped at you.  I’ll say this though, if you ever catch me running late, please don’t hesitate to use these guys again.  Nothing will wake me up faster.”

The teasing tone of his voice and Daichi’s soft words brought a little smile to Ushijima’s lips, one of his hands coming up to wipe at his eyes.  “I’ll remember that,” he said quietly, finally glancing up to look at Daichi’s gentle smile and then up to Iwa’s still concerned one.

“But can you tell us why your plants decided to act on their own?” Iwa asked carefully.  “Obviously you were just as surprised as us when we got brought down here.  But I’ve never seen you lose control like that.  Is everything okay?”

Ushijima felt a soft squeeze to his hands and looked back down to Daichi who was giving him that same look of concern now.

“If you need anything… anything Ushi, you know that we’re here for you, right?” 

Ushijima felt his chest tighten again at the sheer love he felt from both of his partners and yet he still felt that all this fuss really shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“I know.  But…,” he stalled, closing his eyes a moment and taking a breath before opening them again.  “It’s not important.”

“What’s not important?” Daichi asked, though Ushijima could feel Iwa tensing beside him.

“If something is troubling you, then it’s important, Ushijima,” Iwa said earnestly.

“It’s just been… a tough week.  Nothing that I shouldn’t be able to handle on my own,” he began, shaking his head.  “There’s been some… less than pleasant customers who have made work a little hard.  It wasn’t words I haven’t heard before.  Or threats I…,”

“Threats?!” Both Daichi and Iwa balked as they heard that, Daichi standing up instantly and looking around as if the threat was still there.  “Who threatened you?!  Why didn’t you call us!  We would’ve been right down!”

“Is that why the plants came?!  Jesus, Ushi!” Iwa said, glancing around as well and wondering if said criminal was currently being eaten by some sort of secret plant he and Daichi were unaware of.

Ushijima quickly shook his head, waving his hands in the air.  “No, no!  It wasn’t like that!  Just a customer who threatened to sue me because he cut himself on the roses!”

“What?!” Daich and Iwa cried again, making Ushi wince as his plants decided to move closer to their guardian, worried for his safety once more as they fed on the others' rage and misinterpreted it.

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, worried that his partners were upset at him for allowing someone to get hurt in his shop like that.  “I promise I had warned him verbally and I have signs posted everywhere.  But it seems like no one is paying any attention to them,” Ushi tried to placate.

“No!  Ushi,” Daichi said, turning around and seeing how upset his poor partner was.  “We aren’t upset with you!  We’re upset that people didn’t heed you or listen to you and took advantage of you in your place of business!”

“What happened here?” Iwa spoke up, causing Daichi and Ushijima to look over to the corner where he had put the two saplings who had been bullied by the child earlier.

“A woman and her child came in looking for a gift and the child decided to try and climb the saplings even though I told them to be careful as they are still growing and not supposed to be under any strain,” Ushijima said, remembering how the woman berated him for allowing her child to get so close to something that wasn’t tethered ‘properly’.

“Did she offer to pay for the damages?” Daichi asked as Iwa growled deep in his chest.

Ushi shook his head, glancing down at the floor once more.  “She told me I should have sign’s up to warn people that they were delicate.  Which I promise I do!  A-and then she told me that I shouldn’t have unfastened things like that in my store where children can get hurt.”

“That’s it!” Iwa shouted, startling both Daichi and Ushijima.  “I’m quitting my job and I’m going to become a plant bouncer!  People want to cause a fuss, they'll have to answer to me!”

Daichi rolled his eyes and turned to Ushijima, frowning slightly.  “Why didn’t you say anything, sweetheart?  You know we’re here to help you when you need it and it sounds like you’ve been getting put through the wringer lately,” he said gently as he made his way back over to his boyfriend.

Ushijima shook his head.  “I… didn’t want to bother you,” he whispered.  “You and Hajime have been so busy lately.  I know that you’ve been tasked with taking on extra hours recently and Iwazumi has just gotten this weekend off after almost two weeks of appointments and therapy sessions at the clinic and at the sports center.  You’ve both been working so hard and… I didn’t want to add anymore stress to you.”

“Oh, love,” Daichi said quietly, taking the man’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  “You listen to me.  There is never an hour in the day when I won’t be there for you.  You can come to me for anything.”

“And me!” Iwa shouted from the corner of the store, apparently having gone through to inspect the rest of the shop to make sure no other damages had been incurred by the poor plants in the store.  Making his way back over to his two partners he shook his head.  “Whether it’s a phone call or just asking one of us to come down here so you can vent after a terrible customer we are here to help.  You shouldn’t have had to shoulder all of this on your own.  But unlike you we aren’t magic.  Neither one of us are mind readers so you need to speak up.  Let us know what’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours, okay?”

Ushi felt his face flushing up under the tender looks he was getting from his partners and a small watery smile began to appear over his features.  “Okay.  I… I can try to be better about that,” he promised, feeling a little weight lifting off of him from just having spoken to them about his terrible week.  “I’m still sorry that the plants thought they should drag you down here, though.”

“First of all, don’t apologize.  If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t be having this conversation and you’d probably still be down here thinking all of those things were your fault.  Which, if you didn't already know, is completely not your fault and those people are idiots.” “Hajime,” Daichi scolded lightly, though it was obvious he didn’t disagree with that statement.

“What?  They are!  What sort of idiot lets their kid climb on a stick?!” Iwa asked before yelping as one of the vines snapped him on the arm for that statement.  “Ow!  Ushi!  Tell your plants I didn’t mean it!”

Ushijima covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stop a chuckle from escaping as he watched his plants gently reprimand his partner for his words.  

Even Daichi had to turn away to hide a snort upon seeing it and Iwa scowled at the both of them.  “Hey!  How come I’m the one getting ganged up on, but the plants didn’t go after the mean customers?”

“Because then people would know Ushi is a great and powerful mage and our peaceful little life wouldn’t be so peaceful anymore?” Daichi mused, making Ushi nod.

“I mean… that’s fair.  But then people would also stop behaving like they only have two brain cells to rub together!” Iwa mumbled, yelping through a surprised giggle when he felt a little pinch to his side from a vine and looking to Ushi for help.  “What did I do that time to make the plants attack me?!”

This time Ushijima did laugh and he felt a proper smile actually appear for what felt like the first time in years. “No, no.  That was entirely me.  The noise you made was funny and I wanted to hear it again,” he said, his rare playfulness seeping through and making his partners smile as well.

“Oh is that so?” Iwa said, quirking an eyebrow even as his own smile turned playful.  “It seems to me that I’m not the only one who makes funny noises around here.  Isn’t that right, Dai?” he asked, looking over at the former Karasuno captain and finding him acting contemplative to his question.

“Hmm.  I think you’re right, Hajime.  If memory serves, there's someone else here who also makes the best and most ridiculous noises as well and if you ask me it's been far too long since we’ve heard him laugh like that.”

Ushijima rolled his eyes as he heard that, his smile still light as he listened to his partners and feeling the way his chest warmed at the playful atmosphere.  “Oh?  And you two think that trying to do anything about that in an area that listens to me is a smart idea?” he asked, listening to the rustle of leaves and petals moving closer around him.

For a moment Iwa looked concerned, but Daichi just gave Ushi an even more smug smile.  “Oh sweet, sweet Ushi.  If your plants were willing to go out on their own to search for a way to help you… don’t you think that means that they are just as concerned that they haven’t heard your missing laughter as well?”

Ushi furrowed his brow at those words, but before he truly registered what Daichi was implying he felt the gentle tracing of something along his side and instantly gasped, standing up from his chair and turning to find some of the hanging vines had moved behind him.

“Uh oh, Ushi.  I think they’re just as keen as us to hear you feeling better,” Iwa murmured from behind him, scribbling his fingers up Ushijima’s back and making the man jump again with a surprised giggle before turning back around.  His partners had moved closer with equal looks of playful mayhem in their eyes and he knew he was in trouble.

“D-don’t even think about it!” Ushi warned, but the smile was already growing more and more over his lips and before he knew it he felt his sneaky plants wrapping around his chest, keeping him in place as his partners went for the attack.

“Now lets see… I’m a bit rusty but I think Ushi’s best spot was somewhere around here?” Iwa teased, his fingers scribbling against Ushi’s lower ribs, kneading into the highly sensitive spot and making the poor man jump in place though the plants kept him easily held.

“Nohohoho!” Ushi laughed, trying to shimmy away from the man's hands, but even as he reached to try and hang onto his wrists he felt a gentle tug to his arms as they were lifted away from his torso.

“Thank you,” Daichi said to the morning glory’s that were now aiding in trying to get Ushi to become a giggling, blushing mess.  “Now… I remember a different spot.  I think it was somewhere around here?”  With that he settled his fingers against the sides of Ushi���s tum, just holding his fingers there as the man tried to suck in a breath, though Iwa’s own tickling against his ribs didn’t let him achieve this for long.

“What’s wrong, Ushi?  Am I right?  Is this the best spot?” Daichi asked as he started to lightly flutter his fingers against his stomach, making Ushi snort and lean forward, his laughter becoming more and more unrestrained.

“Y-You two ahahahare tehehehereible!  AH!  Stahapit!  Stahahap!” he squeaked as he felt fluttering against his neck, some of the flowers deciding they wanted to join in on the fun.

“Trahahahators!  WAIHIHIH-HAHAHAHA!”  Ushijima immediately broke into the heaviest laughter yet as both Iwa and Daichi went in for the spot they knew was his worst.

“I think this is the spot we were trying to think of earlier.  What do you think, Iwa?” Daichi chuckled, one of his hands lightly drawing teasing circles against one of Ushijima’s underarms and making the man shake with uncontrolled laughter.

“What?  I can’t hear you, Dai!  Ushi is being so loud.  Ushi, can’t you see Daichi and I are trying to discuss your worst spot?” Hajime teased as one of his own hands snuck under Ushi’s other arm, fingers spidering over the vulnerable spot.

Ushi could only shake his head as he laughed so ridiculously.  But he found he couldn’t care in the least.  The tickles were absolutely driving him crazy, but the laughter made him feel so refreshed from the mood he had been building up to all week.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Hajime teased as his other hand went back to squeezing and kneading against his ribs.

“Whahahat lehehesson?!  Ihihihit tihihickles so bahahaha-gahahad!” he squeaked as Daichi vibrated the fingers of his other hand right in the center of Ushi’s stomach.

“That you don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself, sweetheart,” Daichi murmured, chuckling as Ushijima’s nose crinkled as he snorted on another laugh.  “Do you think you can remember that or do you need more convincing?”

“Ihihi’ll rehehehember!” he squealed as a few vines lightly fluttered behind his ears.  But it seemed that’s what they all needed to hear because in the next second the tickling slowed to a stop and the vines keeping him playfully captive released and were replaced by the two strong arms of his darlings.

“We love you so, so much, Ushi,” Iwa murmured against his shoulder as he soothed a hand along his back.

“And if you ever feel like this again or like you need a break or just someone to have your back,  call us.  We’ll be there for you.  To help you in any way we can,” Daichi whispered softly, hidden against Ushi’s still slightly heaving chest.

The smile that was on the mage’s lips remained as he tried to catch his breath through the residual giggles and he carefully wrapped his own shaky arms around his partners.

“I… promise.  I promise not to hide these things from you again,” he whispered back, earning himself two of the biggest and best hugs in the world.

“Good.  I don’t think your plants will let you anyway,” Daichi teased, smiling as he heard a flutter of leaves from around the shop, knowing it was their way of saying they definitely agreed with that statement.

Ushi couldn’t help smiling at that and looked around the shop.  At all that his love had grown here and all that was being given back to him now.

“I love you.  All of you,” he murmured softly, hugging his partners closer.

“And we love you, Ushi,” Daichi murmured.  “With all our hearts.”

“And flower parts.  OW!  What?!  I thought it was cute!” Iwa whined as he felt a pinch to his rear.

“That was me again,” Ushi teased.  “That was a terrible joke.”

“What?!  Daichi!  Do you hear this sass!”

And just like that the shop was once again filled with laughter and no small amount of love.

For as terrible as the week had been, Ushi realized that just like the plants he cared for, with a little love and attentiveness he too could bounce back from anything.

#Haikyuu! #my fics #tickle fic #ushijima wakatoshi #sawamura daichi #iwazumi hajime #fluff and emotional whump #magical au #birthday gift #I hope you enjoy it my friend!

[goingoutto]

I can admit, I am not fireproof. I feel it burning me, I feel it burning you

Stiles was cold. 

He had experienced different types of colds in his life, but this one, this one was different. The cold came from within. A thick, dark, gooey chill that was so intense, that his body felt locked up. 

Since the freak  accident , whatever the fuck you want to call it, he couldn’t seem to get warm. In the end, he discovered he had spent almost an hour inside the bathroom, and his dad wasn’t even home. He had imagined everything, hallucinated. 

When he opened his eyes, he noticed he was still on the bathroom floor and everything was normal. No blood, no girl, no brain splashed on the walls. He tried to get up, but that appeared to be impossible since his body was not responding. 

He focused on breathing and ignoring whatever the fuck had just happened. He was okay; he was alive, he could munch on that latter. Stiles tried to sit up, or at least drag himself up against the wall, but vertigo washed over him. He had to take several deep breaths, otherwise, he would throw up and throw up with a locked jaw was not fun. 

So he just stood there on the floor for a few seconds. Probably more than a few seconds, since he could see the sunlight moving through the bathroom walls. When his limbs started to finally tingle, he pushed himself up to an uncoordinated sitting position. 

Stiles felt hollow, a weird feeling of lacking something, empty. He had this horrible sensation of being uninhabited, and God, he was so fucking cold. So cold it hurt, as if his insides had been frozen for a long time, throat tight, hard to breathe. 

After a while, he started to shiver, his hands trembling so much he couldn’t open his fingers, and his teeth were chattering so hard that the nerves in his neck were starting to hurt. His brain seemed less foggy, and his eyesight cleared. 

When he finally felt like himself again, he took a long shower, a bath one, because his legs still felt like jello, of course. A part of him wanted to start to rationalize what had happened, but the other part was kind of blocking everything. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he was fucking crazy.

Maybe that was how it started with his mother. 

He spent hours, days obsessing over it, searching on the internet, trying to find something, anything that explained what had happened. He found a lot of bullshit, some bad fanfics, and a lot of people complaining about bad chakras.

Stiles even searched for things about mental health and mental diseases, and nothing seemed to fit into the category. Maybe he had had a seizure. Maybe it was a flashback. Maybe it was a brain tumour. 

He stressed about it so much he started to feel sick, and then he spent nights awake trying to remember if his mom had shown any similar signs, but in the end, he could just remember all the terrible things she had done to him. 

So he decided to just completely ignore it, out of sight, out of mind. He went back to his tedious life, constantly hearing about Scott’s soulmate, not knowing where he and his father’s relationship stood and feeling cold. So cold.

He started to wear two shirts and plaid on top. When he was alone in the house, he would spend the afternoon cocooned between two heavy blankets, watching a movie or some anime. 

He stopped looking at his finger. Sometimes he would wish so much for someone, that he would have to pause what he was watching and blink the tears away so he could go back to reading the subtitles. 

It was extremely rare for someone not to have a soulmate, but not unheard of. The name usually appeared when the person started to go through puberty, and here he was, sixteen years old, with nothing.

He’d remember his mother’s words and, not for the first time, he'd have to agree with her. Maybe it was for the best, after all, he was a monster. A freak. Probably crazy too. 

The headaches would come and go, the nosebleeds were becoming more frequent, and sometimes he would not feel any pain at all. He preferred the pain to the nosebleeds. He had lost five of his favourite shirts in one month because of it.   

In the end, he didn’t have to hide anything from his dad. John was fully devoted to completely ignoring him; no words, not even a glance in Stiles' direction. Often enough, he was thankful for it. It was less trouble, but it didn’t hurt less. Maybe he was finally seeing what his mother saw in him. 

Stiles didn’t make any effort to see his dad either. Most days, he would stay locked in his bedroom, doing homework, daydreaming, or fighting a bad migraine. Some days he couldn’t even get up from bed, but he was relieved that nothing weird had happened again.

When summer came, he felt relieved that he wouldn’t have to listen to Scott waxing about that Allison girl anymore, even if it meant spending all of his time alone in his room. Scott was busy doing an internship in a vet clinic. 

He tried to do some cleaning around the house, but his right knee kept bothering him when he bent in the wrong way, so he just did his room and the bathroom. He tried ice packs, heat packs, and creams, but nothing seemed to minimize the discomfort. It was just another fucked-up way to remind him of the  thing . So he did his best to ignore it also. 

The next morning, he woke up in a bad mood. He was tired, hungry, and grumpy. After a glance at the fridge, he knew he couldn’t wait to go grocery shopping anymore. Stiles grabbed the spare change they kept in the jar inside the cabinet and went to the closest market. It was small and it didn’t have a lot of stuff, but he couldn’t care less. 

The harsh fluorescent lights made his eyes hurt, and he felt out of place with all the shirts he was wearing, he was so fucking cold. He grabbed some instant things, avoided the freezer aisle, and went straight to the cereal corridor. 

The market was small, but they did have a lot of options for cereal. Stiles had a weird relationship with it. Cereal was the first thing he learned how to ‘make’ when he was hungry and too young to operate the oven.

He learned it was the best option to hide in his closet, and he learned to eat it without milk. He recalled eating for days in a row when his mother was too busy freaking out and screaming her head off when he left his room. 

Stiles was going to grab the last box with the smiley parrot off the shelf, lost in thoughts, when he felt a hand touch his. Fingers grasped his fingers, and he felt an electrical current go through his entire body, almost as if he had been shocked. 

He turned toward the hand’s owner and felt his heart flutter. Kind blue eyes were staring at him, squinted with age lines and one of the most beautiful smiles Stiles ever saw.

"Sorry." The man chuckled and grabbed the big box. "I guess we have the same refined taste."

Stiles felt a heat wave spread over his body and he was sure his face was on fire. 

"Yeah, the taste of a five-year-old." Stiles muttered, still too stunned to move. He lowered his hand, feeling stupid, and the man laughed. 

"It’s all yours." The man said and put the box in Stile’s basket. 

Stiles felt his stomach do something weird, and he knew he looked dumb right now, he could feel his neck and ears getting hot, probably red as a tomato. He looked up, staring at the man’s face again. 

He was so beautiful, with high cheeks, salt and pepper beard, expression lines making the rough outward appearance look soft, smile so bright and happy. Stiles wanted to smile too, get lost in that warmth, the nostalgic smell of the aftershave. 

His body moved as if it had a life of its own, and he took a step forward, getting so close to the man that their baskets were touching each other. Stiles felt something inside his chest pull him in the guy’s direction. God, he wanted to touch him badly. 

He felt weird, lighter, relieved. Like all the last few months' bullshit suddenly disappeared and he could finally breathe again. He felt warm, he felt on fire. Stiles opened his mouth, without knowing what he was going to say, and panted for a few seconds. 

It was like his skin was vibrating, ready to explode, a string ready to snap. He just wanted to touch him. He  needed  to touch him. 

"Are you okay?" The guy asked, and his expression shifted. 

Stiles shook his head. That was wrong. He didn’t like seeing the concern on the man’s face, it wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right. 

A movement at the end of the aisle got his attention, and Stiles’ heart did a crazy loop. A teenage girl with long black hair stood there, watching them, and Stiles was pretty sure it was fucking happening again. 

"Are you feeling alright? Should I call someone?" The man said and firmly grabbed his elbow, making sure he would not fall. 

He clutched the basket's handle so hard the plastic cracked a little, and closed his eyes, trying to not freak out. His legs felt like jello, his mouth watering as nausea took place instead of the warm feeling in his stomach. His throat felt acid. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Dad?"

He heard the girl ask, and when he opened his eyes, he could see she had come closer, but not enough to hear them.

"Hey." The guy squeezed his elbow, trying to get his attention.

"Dad?" The girl asked again, louder this time. 

"Yeah, I’m coming, Allison, just a second!" 

Allison.

Allison.

Allison.

Oh, God.

"I’m okay." Stiles mumbled, feeling horrible. He had never experienced anything like this. His moods were all over the place, and he felt like a freak, making drama in the cereal aisle. What was his life?  

"Are you sure?"

Stiles nodded and watched his expression get soft again. The guy gave him one last concerned look and walked away. 

Stiles was pretty sure he had just met his soulmate. And he was  Allison’s father . 

Well,  fuck . 

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sell your soul not your whole self series #stetopher

[xenizaation]

times on end

Warning! Sexual content ahead! Minors please dni!

pairing: choi san x fem! reader

genre: established relationship, smut

word count: 3k

warnings: oral sex(f receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, impregnation kink, dirty talk(like lots of it, this may be the chattiest smut scene i ever wrote), rough sex, choking.

a/n: gotta be honest, i didn't expect anyone to ask for a second part to this fic, but am glad y'all did cus i really enjoyed writing both parts. not as long as i planned it to be, but it's not so short either. hope you guys enjoy! xoxo

this fic can be read by itself, but if you want some insight you should read the first part here

signing the divorce papers was harder than you'd imagined. you wanted to think, to hope, that the feelings you had for san would completely overshadow whatever was left that was still burning inside you for the man who stood by your side for years, but they didn't-not entirely.

you were sure you wanted to do this and yet, seeing your husband almost teary-eyed after hearing your news made you think otherwise. it made mercy take such a toll on your head that you actually, for a fair minute, considered staying only for him not to suffer. to bare everything upon your shoulders in silence, making you think it's what you deserve after betraying him so bluntly. guilt was the thing holding you next to him more than anything else.

but there was a selfish side of you to which you were completely thankful for snapping you back to reality. one that endlessly carried you to your desires and more specifically, to your san.

"can you just move into my place already? this is starting to become tiring." his sweet voice echoed in between the walls of your apartment after the sound of him closing the door behind the two of you. "you're there five nights a week anyway." he continues, dropping the empty bags that were going to be filled with clothes next to you.

coming to collect things from your own home has become a weekly habit in the six months since you and san decided to go exclusive. as of now, he already learned where everything was, being fully capable to pack your bag even on the nights you had to stay out late to the same office he bossed you around in. you trusted him with your key along many other unspoken things.

"i just don't want to rush anything, san." you say while turning away from him and opening your underwear drawer, snooping through the lacy pieces of lingerie.

what you didn't want to rush in fact, was the mourning of your previous relationship. or the lack of it if you were completely honest with yourself. in some kind of way, you were emotionally detached from your marriage for a long time before breaking it, and it was noticeable seeing how not much remorse lived inside you now. you only felt bad for the cheating part, for not being brave enough to tell your husband your feelings had ceased to exist when they did and choosing to be unfair to him instead. but you couldn't turn back time, and even if you could you're not sure you would do it.

"rush? didn't you have an affair with me? moving together scares you more?" he replies with a very amused laugh as he throws his body on your squeaky bed.

"it's not that," you sigh still searching through the drawer but not paying any attention to the various pieces of undergarments that tangle between your fingers. it's hard to put your thoughts into words, especially the ones that you thought wouldn't be spoken into reality. "it's just...i don't want to risk getting too familiar with each other and then realizing that maybe it's not what we want." you mutter out, taking a seat on the corner of the bed as you avoid san's gaze at all costs, keeping it fixed on the ground beneath you.

poor choice of words for what you meant to express, that being "i'm afraid you're going to get bored of me and then it'll turn out exactly like my catastrophe of a marriage."; there was no reason for you to have these doubts, in your time together san has been nothing but loving and understanding towards your every need, showing times and times again how he was devoted completely to you and the relationship between the two of you. but you couldn't help being paranoid about some things, all of this being the effect of your now ended marriage.

the bed squeaks as san sits straight, dragging his body closer to you as he places one warm hand on top of your cold ones in your lap. there's more than physical warmth that he offers you, there's that heat that engulfs you entirely, from the inside out, whenever he lays as little as his observant gaze upon you. his touch was on another level even, making you feel like the most precious stone in the world whenever he caressed your skin with his soft fingertips.

you felt like you were in a dark abyss, and he was the one pulling you out of it. your past partners have never made you feel like this, not even for a second, and this was the exact reason why you were afraid of fucking it all up. living in terror with the thought that one small mistake is going to turn this thing all around and you would find yourself not only alone, but having to live the rest of your life knowing that you have ruined your chances with the only human being in the whole entire world who you felt was your soulmate.

"look, i don't want to stress you out about it," he says as he hooks one finger under your chin, lifting your face up and towards him. "if it's not what you want, then it's ok. but i don't want you to think that i don't want it either. i would love nothing more than waking up next to you for the rest of my existence and not wondering when you're gonna go home and leave me all by myself over there." you recognize the sadness in his tone as well as what he is describing; the exact feeling of loneliness taking over you every time you found yourself in between the empty walls of your apartment. it was san's house that felt like home to you now, and it was all because he was there. he would make you feel like home even at the bottom of the ocean.

"i mean it when i say i want you there. i mean it when i say i love you. i mean everything about you, y/n," he whispers the last words like a solemn prayer he says every night before sleep. "and that's because you mean everything to me." his forehead slowly leans into yours as he closes his eyes, leaving you to assimilate all his words in a certain quietness that is far from uncomfortable and nothing short of peaceful.

your eyelids drop low too, covering your vision as your eyes start burning with the threat of tears. now, how could you reply to that? what words were fit to say to the man who has gently handed you his heart on a silver platter, telling you to do with it whatever you see fit. the way san wore his heart on his sleeve when he was with you made you love him even more, a quality of his you were struggling to learn seeing how you were much more reserved about speaking out your emotions the same way he did.

"i also meant what i said about growing tired about this whole thing. could've chosen a closer apartment you know, it's a 25 minute drive to here." he lightens up the atmosphere with a light chuckle. you start laughing as you throw your hands around him, pulling him in a tight hug while you burrow your head in his firm chest. his hands stroke your back softly and his nose sits atop the crown of your head, inhaling your essence deeply just like you do his.

"what if you get bored of me?" a light whisper, filled with concern. he pulls away slowly but your hands don't leave his body when his own cup your face, keeping it in place as he stares into your heart with an adoring look.

"don't think i'll live long enough to get bored of you." san says as he draws your face closer to his. you prepare to feel his soft lips on top of yours but instead you only see him pull his head away all of a sudden.

"how about you, hm?" he questions with a raised brow, trying his best to mask away the discouraged look in his eyes as he thinks that you getting bored of him could ever be an option. san was a being that craved reassurance, always failing in trying not to show the side of him that would desperately search for your validation. you were more than happy to give it to him, he deserved it more than anyone else.

"i couldn't get bored of you even if i tried," you reveal and peck his lips briefly. "you give good dick." you add as if that was the sole reason for it, when in fact it was near the bottom of the list of why you adored san so much.

he laughs to your joke, pulling you into a deep kiss and smashing your body against his own. things escalate quickly, something that you grew accustomed to happening when you were near san. now laying with your back on your fairly uncomfortable mattress (another made up reason that you used to spend the nights over at his house), san was pressing passionate kisses on the skin of your neck, his hands quickly actioning upon unbuttoning your blouse.

he was taking his time, kissing his way slowly down your chest until his mouth was above your breasts. he unveiled your nipple from the material of your bra by pushing it to the side and took your nipple right into his mouth. the swirls of his tongue against your areola were executed with precision, one that drove you insane every time he sucked it hungrily or grazed his perfect teeth on your sensitive bud, making you jolt underneath his touch.

his body dragged itself down, reaching the hard floor with his knees, now sitting in between your legs while he pulled your ass closer to the edge of the bed. his hands caressed your thighs in an upwards motion of lifting your skirt past the parts he needed exposed, gentle fingers hooking under the band of your panties and pulling them down in a swift motion. he placed both of your legs on his broad shoulders as he got closer to you, pressing soft kisses on the meat of your inner thigh. you were already wet for him; and he seemed to notice quite quickly, making you not wait anymore as he latched his mouth to your clit, suckling all the while he dragged his tongue over it.

your fingers only tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him closer with breathy moans of his name. he continues his ministrations, topping the pleasure he was already giving you by adding one middle finger inside, slowly dragging it against your walls. you groan at the feeling, seeing his hand quickly climbing up your torso as he takes a hold of your exposed breast, pinching your nipple in between his fingers and in the course of it, stealing a quiet whimper from you. he adds a second finger, the two digits curling inside you just right as his mouth doesn't stop showering your clit with love and attention.

it doesn't take you much longer to feel your stomach forming a tight knot, and even less to feel it untangle as the quiet electricity of an orgasm buzzes inside your body, making you moan harder as you tighten your thighs around san's head, feeling your insides swirl up and your fingertips go numb in his hair as you desperately try to push him away from you-to no avail. he removes his fingers and licks his way down to your hole, drowning his tongue in the warmness of your pulsating walls as he sucks every drop of your release into his mouth. you jolt under every lick, every forward push of his wet muscle reaching further inside, that makes you throw your head back into the mattress and your back arch instinctively, and in this moment you feel nothing more than the place where san's tongue connects with your body.

he finally lets your core catch a break, pulling his head away from your warmth and slowly getting up. his face now adorns a smirk and your juices, making his jaw glisten beautifully under the lights in the room as he leans over to kiss you. you take in his tongue, swirling your own around his muscle in a manner short of shy. you weren't sure who you tasted more: you or him, but you sure loved the taste of your essence combined with his saliva.

"i love you." you whisper into his mouth and he only deepens the kiss in return-fully aware that by now, you already know how he feels about you. he pulls you up by your waist, slowly rising you to your feet. your legs buckle beneath you when they are met with the act of supporting your whole weight.

"that good?" san chuckles while holding you by the waist to help you regain your balance. he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

you nod, kissing him again as he pushes you towards the wall, sticking your back against it as he undresses quickly. you follow without a question, watching him with all your undivided attention as he slides down his pants, leaving his erect cock naked in all its glory. your mouth waters at the sight of his veiny shaft that glistened with precum at the tip while you peeled off the last garment that was covering your body.

"choi san, mister," you mutter out as desperately as you could, looking into his hungry eyes that devoured every piece of you the same way yours did him. "are you gonna fuck me against a wall?" you question as innocently as you can conjure yourself to be in the moment with his body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck, his dick finding cover right in between your legs, sliding in between your folds and thighs with small thrusts of his hips.

"might as well make some good memories in your apartment if you don't want to leave it." he mumbles against the skin of your neck.

"who says i don't?" you whisper close to his ear.

he only looks up in surprise, as if he didn't expect you to make up your mind so quickly. he presses his lips with force against yours one more time before he turns your whole body around, making you face the wall. his knee swings your legs apart and you arch your back naturally when his hands find purchase on your hips to pull you towards him. you align his tip with your entrance and he pushes in slowly, stretching you gradually with his deliciously girthy cock.

you murmur his name as he picks up pace, every thrust of his hips making your face press against the wall more. "san, ah...harder, please. please fuck me harder." you mutter out in between breathy moans, giving body to your lustful wishes.

"fuck, y/n, keep talking like that and i'm gonna cum." he says as he presses deeper into you with each thrust, the power behind his moves being fully motivated by your desires. one strong hand wrapping around your neck just tight enough to make you moan loudly.

"it feels so fucking good, san, you feel so fucking good inside of me." you keep rambling just to feel his cock twitch inside of you at the words.

"just you wait doll, gonna fill you up with babies way before i wife you up." he groans, tightening the grip over your neck just enough to make you so dizzy that you can't think of-can't feel anyone else but him.

"that fucker wasn't able to do it, right? so incompetent you needed me to even fuck you right." he says, using all the rage that your ex-husband was awakening inside him to smash his hips into yours just the way you asked him to-hard, sort of animalic in the way your breasts bounced around every time skin made contact with skin. his forceful rams made his dick brush over your sweet spot over and over again and in combination with the hand around your neck and his impactful words, you felt your high coming in no time.

"san, i'm gonna cum-ah.." you exhaled, still feeling every inch of his cock entering deeply inside of you.

"please do, baby." he whispers in your ear.

it's not a choice to orgasm right in the moment you feel his breath fan over your nape, it's more of a natural instinct of following his orders. you cum so hard around his cock that you feel your legs are going to give up on you, standing on your tip-toes as you lean forward into the wall trying to gain some sort of support. san doesn't stop, now chasing after his own high as your hole clenches around him with every pulsation of your fading orgasm.

"oh-fuck," he growls and after a few more sloppy thrusts, he stills deep inside you-surely reaching as deep as your cervix with his tip just as hot ropes of cum splash onto your awaiting inner walls.

both of you a quivering mess now, leaned against the wall as cold drops of sweat roll down the back of your thighs whilst san hugs you from the back, not pulling out just yet. the room is filled with your breaths trying to get steady and you find your heart skipping a beat thinking of how good you feel around san, how every moment you spend with him you wish to turn into eternity like right now, with his chin pressed softly on your shoulders as his arms are wrapped lovingly around you, keeping you safe in his hold, making you feel like you're the most special being in the whole entire world.

so this is how love is supposed to feel like.

"should we pack everything then?" you ask with a light chuckle.

#xenizaation #ksmutclub #kpop fanfiction #kpopsmut #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi san fanfic #choi san smut #san fanfic #atz smut #san smut #choi san fanfiction #choi san #atz fic #ateez #atz san #atz scenarios

[miekasa]

slow hands

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genre and warnings: fluff, some angst? but hardly, levi is the sweetest, please do not mistake his quiet affections for apathy or lovelessness

+ word count: 3k

+ summary: based off of a request about physical affection and acts of service being levi’s love languages—which i agree! i’m so happy you asking about that, i could write essays about how physical touch is important to levi, but instead, i will leave you with this for now lol

i. in crowded spaces (so you don’t get lost, or so he claims)

Levi isn’t particularly fond of the way you like to go shopping in the inner walls. He is, however, fond of you; so he forgoes the prissy upper-class men and overall stingy aura of Wall Sina’s inhabitants just so you can get your favorite kind of bread and fruit.

Today, it seems like everyone and their mother wanted to visit the outdoor markets, despite the scheming merchants and obviously overpriced merchandise. From the crowd to the noise level, none of it is really up Levi’s alley; but he has to admit, watching people fail to successful haggle the price of eggs is immensely amusing to him.

What isn’t amusing is the way you keep stopping in the middle of the square, distracted by anything remotely shiny or with a pleasant smell you come across. Levi stops in his tracks, sensing a lack of your presence behind him; he turns around, and sure enough, you’re standing a few meters away, squinting at the price written above the basket of apples in front of you.

He sighs, trudging back to you, and watching from a step away as you scan over the fruit scrutinizingly. The merchant behind the stand does his best at selling you his product, boasting about how the fruit is fresh and hand-picked, and some other bullshit.

“These look good,” you muse to yourself, picking up a single, red apple in your palm for closer observation, “I could make a pie for the kids later.”

“Ah, pretty and she cooks, what a woman,” the bearded merchant smiles, adjusting his hat as he looks at you.

He only seems to notice Levi’s presence when he pushes forward just a little bit, looking at the apples, bored, then to the man, who speaks to him next, “Can I interest you in a basket, too, sir?”

Levi doesn’t respond with anything but a slight shake of his head, before looking back to you. You’re standing upright now, having placed your sample apple back with the rest, unfazed by Levi standing next to you; like you were completely unaware you’d left him in the first place.

He holds back a scoff. You can be so unaware of your surroundings at times, he honestly thinks it’s a miracle that you make it back from your missions alive. You’re also seemingly unaware of just how many inner wall pigs flirt with you, as you look completely oblivious to the advances of the merchant, who offers you two baskets for the price of one—the only caveat being that you allow him to take you on a date later that evening.

Levi lolls his head to the side, tired eyes gazing at the old man who tries to cut himself a bargain. He knows you’re prepared to give an overly polite and nonchalant response to wave the man off, but Levi doesn’t have time for your pleasantries today. 

Quietly, he reaches for your free hand, lacing your fingers together firmly before pulling you away from the merchant and the stand.

“Levi!” you call for him, borderline whining, “I wasn’t actually going to agree to a date with him, but the apples—”

“There’s a stand a few streets over that Hange claims is better than anything she’s ever eaten,” Levi grumbles, questioning under his breath about where the hell the piece of shit men in the interior get their audacity from, “And you don’t need two baskets. One is enough.”

Levi doesn’t turn your way, so he misses the fond look in your eyes and the small curve to your lips. He does, however, feel the way you wrap your other arm around his, leaning into him gently as to not disturb your stride as you keep walking.

“But I want to have enough to make a pie for the kids, later,” you tell him, slowly rubbing your thumb against the fabric of his blazer.

Levi scoffs audibly this time. “You don’t have to make shit for them.”

“I don’t have to do shit for anyone,” you smile, “But they’re just kids, Levi. Besides, I know you like pie, too, you big baby.”

Levi doesn’t say anything at that, only choosing to flash you an unamused scowl, before pulling you down a smaller, less crowded street.

“Let’s just get the fucking apples and go home,” he says, decidedly, passing by a group of MPs sharing a flask, “I don’t know how much longer I can stay in the interior without snapping some pig’s head off.”

ii. during long meetings

Levi thinks that if Erwin weren’t Commander, he could probably make a living as a pastor with the way he preaches for hours on end.

It’s going on hour two of this long, drawn-out strategy meeting, and Levi knows that he’s not the only one about to lose his fucking marbles. Albeit, he’s much more composed than some other people around the table; he still wants to retire to his office for the evening. Even the mountain of paperwork waiting for him would be more entertaining than this.

Levi listens, admittedly a little more carefully, when you speak up, offering information about the layouts of a small town destroyed on your last expedition, where you’d lost a member of your own squad. Erwin nods, looking back down at his map to take your words into consideration.

Levi looks to his right where you’re seated, notices the guilt flash in your eyes as you think about your last failed expedition. It wasn’t your fault, and you know that; but he knows, more than anyone, how difficult it can be to lose one of your own soldiers.

Quietly, he lifts his teacup with his right hand, and places it down in front of you. He says nothing beyond an almost unnoticeable nod towards the cup once it’s within your reach, before looking back towards Erwin and Armin.

If anyone else seemed to notice his gesture, they don’t make it known. Except for Hange, of course, who flashes him a knowing grin before resuming her conversation.

Levi knows you’ve finished the tea when he feels your hand resting lightly atop his knee, tapping your index and middle fingers against his pants—a silent thank you. In the middle of his own conversation, he doesn’t turn to you or say much other than slipping his right hand on top of yours, loosely curling his fingers between the slits of yours.

His hand stays there for the rest of the meeting, his thumb rubbing slow, unidentifiable patterns into the skin on the back of your hand; an empty teacup, and a mutual gratitude between the two of you.

iii. when you’re working too hard (or for too long)

If not the gigantic humanoid monsters out to swallow you whole, the paperwork is probably the worst part about being a captain in the Survey Corps. Levi would know, having spent countless nights up reading proposals, approving plans, signing documents, filling out death certificates.

It can be grueling work, even if it is, essentially, reading and writing whilst being sat at a desk. And while, sometimes, he can admit that the paperwork is more bearable than his own nightmares; he knows that for you, it holds no such solace.

If anyone thought that Levi worked himself to the bone, they must not have met you. Your meticulous mannerisms and work ethic could almost make him seem sloppy by comparison. It’s not uncommon to find you training yourself or your cadets into the ground, theorizing with Hange and Erwin, or—Levi’s personal least favorite—hunched over your desk, eyes scanning away at stacks of ink-ridden papers.

You must be five or six hours in by now, if he’s calculated correctly. The last time he saw you was around midday, when he’d been watching you spar with Jean. It’s dark out now, the other cadets and soldiers having retired to their rooms for the evening after dinner. 

“You’ll end up a hunchback if you keep this up,” he drawls upon entering your office. He watches as your head snaps up to him; he figured you hadn’t even heard him enter, seeing as you didn’t respond to his knocking. He wonders how it’s possible for you to be so aloof, yet so scrupulous all at once.

Embarrassed, more likely at your lack of awareness than his comment, you push yourself up a little bit, elbows on your desk and fingers crossed. “You’re not exactly one to talk, you know.”

Levi only hums at your jab, inching towards your desk. He likes the way your eyes track his movements as his proximity to you increases, stepping around your desk to stand behind your chair. 

“Sit up,” he orders, voice soft yet firm.

He waits for you to straighten your back, but frowns when you scoot your chair closer to your desk after doing so. He takes it upon himself to move your chair back, ignoring the terrible squeaking of the wood scraping across the floor. Well, at least that was an indication that the floors were clean.

“I can’t write if I’m this far from my desk,” you complain, just as the palms of Levi’s hands make contact with your shoulders.

“Good thing I’m not asking you to write anything,” Levi replies, digging the heels of his hands into your shoulder muscles. This would work better with your shirt off, he muses to himself, but this would have to do.

You open your mouth to protest, but your words fall short on your tongue, an exhale of relief coming out instead as Levi continues to massage your shoulders. Levi can feel you melting into his actions, your body going slack and the knots in your muscles uncoiling themselves. He counts about five minutes in passing before he hears your breath calm, too; the shallow exhales of your overworked body replaced with deep inhalations and extended sighs.

He lightens his movements as his massage comes to and end. The palm of his left hand runs across your throat gently, allowing him to tuck his thumb and index finger under your chin, and tilt your head backwards for you to face him. Levi’s thumb pads against your jaw line as you look up at him, and him back at you. 

Finally, he leans down, his lips making contact with your forehead for a gentle kiss, “You work too hard.”

“I learned from the best,” and just as gently, you reach your arm up and backwards, your palm clumsily finding its way to Levi’s hair, pulling him down, towards your lips this time, “You take such good care of me.”

“Obviously,” Levi mumbles, stealing another kiss between his words, “That’s my job, brat.”

iv. during dinner time

The Mess Hall is among Levi’s least favorite places, for obvious reasons; but he does enjoy sharing a meal with you, and ensuring that you’ve eaten a full serving to sustain yourself.

He can look past Hange and Nanaba’s overly enthusiastic conversations, despite sitting directly across each other, Erwin’s sloppy eating habits, and the overall rowdy atmosphere of the Mess Hall, as long as he has you beside him to numb the pain. Which is why he’s been exceptionally grumpy these past two weeks, as you’ve taken to sitting with some of the younger cadets during dinner time. 

It’s not unusual and it doesn’t surprise him, or anyone really; everyone can see how much they all adore you. Especially Mikasa, strangely enough. Probably because of the way you treat Eren, and how much he and Armin look up to you; and probably because she was your first pick to fill a vacancy in your squad. 

He walks with you across the floor, the both of you holding your own tray of food—a watery soup, some bread, and a piece of fruit as a treat. He knows you won’t finish your soup, and that he’ll have to give you half of his bread to make up for it; but he also knows you’ll slice up your apple for him to eat in exchange.

So Levi is not too happy when he sees Eren waving your way, the clumsy idiot almost hitting Armin in the head from the uncoordinated shaking of his hand. You smile at the younger boy, turning your body to walk towards his table.

Levi, however, stops your stride before it can begin, pulling tactfully at the back of your shirt, and forcing you to turn back around. He pokes at the nape of your neck, gently pushing you forwards, and in the direction of the table where Erwin, Hange, Mike and Moblit are seated.

You seem to get his silent message, flashing Levi a sweet smile before turning to offer Eren a sorry glance as you continue to head in the direction of the table with your colleagues. Levi hums when you start walking again, following closely behind you, and turning back to offer Eren a not-so-sorry, not-so-friendly glare.

Levi was getting his apple sliced for him today, whether the brats liked it or not.

“You know, you should sit with them sometime,” you tell him, breaking his small loaf in half to dip it into your soup, “They admire you a lot.”

“I think they’d shit their pants if shorty even came near their table,” Hange jokes, earning chuckles from some of your colleagues.

Levi says nothing and refrains from rolling his eyes. He could care less about the admiration they hold for him, or for you. If Eren and Amin wanted to spend time with you that badly, then they should train their asses off and make it onto your squad.

“Oi,” you call to him, mocking his voice and tone, “Here, they gave us yellow ones today, I know they’re your favorite.”

Levi shoves you with his elbow affectionately, before taking the slice of apple from your hold. He chews gratefully, heart beating against his chest in admiration as you carefully place the rest of the slices on his tray.

He squeezes your thigh in thanks under the table once you’ve finished slicing both apples for him. Sure, he could do it himself, and sure he could technically see you in your room whenever he wants, but that’s not the point; Levi will be damned if he catches any of those other brats with his apple slices.

v. when you come home

It’s not often that Levi becomes overly worried about your well-being, as backwards and apathetic as it may seem to other people. He trusts you, and knows that you’re stronger than you look—stronger than him, even—and he has no reason to doubt you; you’ve always come back to him.

But now, it’s going on eleven days since your squad was supposed to return from specially designed and assigned mission from Erwin himself, and Levi was beginning to let his nerves get the best of him.

He knows he’s not the only one getting antsy for some kind of message—any kind of sign at all—that you and your men were okay. Two days ago, Hange had pestered Erwin for the greater part of an hour about sending just one more tracking squad to look for yours; Mikasa and Armin hovered around for any news that you had returned, and that you’d brought Eren back unharmed; hell, even Mike had come to check in with him, rocking on his feet, asking Levi if there had been any news from you.

It’s dark out now, the day coming to a close, marking the twelfth night since your estimated return date. Levi sighs, untucking himself from his desk, intent on marching down to Erwin’s office and demanding he let him go look for you.

“You know we have to give it fourteen days, at least,” Erwin sighs.

“That’s a bullshit rule and you know it,” Hange interjects, having burst into the room only seconds after Levi; hung up on your lack of return just as much as he was.

Of course she is—you’re Hange’s closest friend. Not to mention, you’d taken Moblit with you on your mission, setting Hange’s work back significantly without the presence of her valuable second.

“I know,” Erwin nods, “But the first tracking squad found no evidence of any bodies. They’re most likely alive.”

“All of them?” Hange questions, incredulous and hopeful.

“That’s what we hope for,” Erwin responds, voice heavy. He looks to Levi, “She’ll come back. She always does.”

Levi knows that; he knows. But he still can’t shake this feeling. He opens his mouth to refute, when Sasha comes bumbling into Erwin’s office, heaving.

“Commander Erwin, Captain (Y/N)’s squad has just returned!” Sasha squeaks, “No casualties, four in the infirmary now with minor wounds, but nobody’s in critical condition, sir.”

Levi can barely register the young girl’s words, before he’s storming towards the infirmary, desperately searching for your familiar face amongst the soldiers in the cots. He sees Moblit amongst some of your other men and hastily asks him about your whereabouts.

“She had Eren,” Moblit tells him calmly, wincing slightly as a nurse rubs alcohol into the cut along his arm, “I thought she’d take him here—maybe in one of the smaller rooms across the hall?”

Levi nods, grateful, and moves so that Hange can squish Moblit with her affections, heading towards the hallway. He sees just a sliver of light coming from a room two doors down, and he doesn’t hesitate to search for you there.

He all but bursts through the door, relieved to find you tying and cutting a bandage around Eren’s forehead. Levi wants to scold you for taking care of someone else wounds before attending to your own, but he doesn’t have time for that right now.

You stand up straight after you’re finished wrapping Eren’s larger cuts, with barely enough time to register that Levi’s entered the room before he has one hand around your waist, and the other cradling the back of your head.

Levi can feel that he’s knocked the wind out of you, but that doesn’t stop you from slowly wrapping your arms around him to complete the hug. He tucks his head into the juncture of your neck, ignoring the faint scrapes along your skin.

“You’re back,” he hums, holding you a little tighter against him.

Levi feels your laughter reverberate through his own body, as you mirror his hold on you; your right hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, your fingers loosely coiling into his hair.

“Of course I am,” you hum, reveling in Levi’s shallow breaths that tickle your neck, “I’ll always come back to you, Levi.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

[moonlitmeeks]

love my way - regulus black

summary; regulus is insecure due to his struggles with showing affection, but you love the way that he loves you

warnings; swearing, mentions of bad families, maybe a tad angsty? not proof read!

words; 1.4k

a/n; look. i rly wanted to write something for my love regulus so, here we are. hope you all enjoy <3

from the beginning, you knew that your relationship with regulus would be different, for lack of a better word.

it was glaringly obvious that he wasn’t one for pda; kisses in the vicinity of others were almost unheard of, he rarely held your hand in the hogwarts corridors, and over the top compliments and mushy declarations of his love would never happen around company. you’d come to accept it.

regulus black liked his privacy, and that was that.

sirius would tease him for it though, in true older brother fashion. there were endless jibes and remarks concerning just how quiet he was about you, claiming that if you hadn’t came out and told him directly, he’d have no clue you two were even dating. regulus had scoffed at this, mumbling protests under his breath, but the worst part was, he couldn’t deny it.

regulus knew that you deserved more, that you wanted to be shown off once in a while, to be complimented in front of your friends and kissed passionately in dark corners of parties. he knew that you deserved more than him.

you had always been patient, assuring him it was okay that he wouldn’t pull you onto his lap in the great hall like james did to lily, or whisper sweet nothings into your ear like marlene and dorcas did to one another.

unfortunately, this did nothing to quell the insecurities bubbling under regulus’s skin. what had once been a slight inconvenience at the back of his mind had grown to a roaring mass, impossible to ignore every time he saw your wistful glances at other couples. as hard as he tried, he knew he could never be so exuberant with his love for you, and it ate away at him.

he would never tell you this, of course, not wanting to add another bullet point to the ‘reasons why regulus black is the worst boyfriend ever’ list that you had no doubt began to make in your mind at this point.

secrets are uncontainable however; as much as you like to, you can’t just tuck them away in a box and hide them at the back of your wardrobe, out of sight for as long as you wish. try as you might, they always slip through your fingers like smoke, and regulus’s spiralling nerves were no exception.

it was his disappearance from lunch in the great hall which alerted you that something wasn’t right.

usually, he would be waiting for you just outside the hall. you’d always find him leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly with a poised smile, ready to escort you to sit wherever you pleased that day. it had been five minutes since you’d arrived, and there was no sign of the younger black brother.

shaking it off, you wandered over to the table containing the four marauders, hoping sirius could provide you some answers that would quell your racing mind.

“sirius,” you began tentatively, rocking on your ankles. “you wouldn’t happen to know where regulus is, would you?”

the boy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly as he chewed on his mashed potatoes, waving his fork around in an aloof manner. “couldn’t tell you y/n, ‘m sorry. i haven’t seen him since this morning.”

“it’s fine.” you replied, shooting him a smile. “i’m sure i’ll find him somewhere. thanks anyways.”

the group said their goodbyes as you turned around, grabbing a few bread buns and [other food] since you were likely going to miss lunch today. the only other place you could think to find the boy was his dorm room.

the thick robes covering your body became a shawl of sorts as you wandered to the colder dungeons where the slytherin common room was located. your footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, growing faster until you finally reached the entrance. upon uttering the password, you wasted no time as you raced up the stairs, following the all too familiar route you had been accustomed to taking many times before.

muted shuffling alerted you that your boyfriend was, in fact, in his room, a fact which did nothing to help the building fear that lay tight in your chest. either something was terribly wrong, or he was deliberately ignoring you - neither a situation you wanted to be true.

“reggie? are you in there?” you asked, gently rapping your knuckles against the door. “can i come in?”

you heard a faint sniffle, before a weak confirmation of permission was given. you braced yourself before pushing the door open with your shoulder. after walking into the room, your heart broke at the sight that greeted you.

regulus’s eyes were watery, red rimmed from where his fists had attempted to scrub away the tears. the wild state of his hair signalled he had been tugging at it in frustration, and his cheeks were tear-stained and blotchy. he attempted a smile, but his lips betrayed him, quickly curling downwards as he muffled a sob with his fist.

“oh, reggie.” you muttered. despite the sympathy lacing your words, they held no patronising tone.

you approached him gingerly, as if he were a wounded animal, and sat at the foot of his bed. your hand found a home on his leg, running it up and down in what you hoped was a soothing manner.

“what’s wrong darling?”

“nothing. it’s stupid.” he scoffed, angrily wiping away a falling tear. you replaced his aggressive hands with your own, tracing your fingertips under his eyes with a touch so light he could hardly feel it. the pad of your thumb caressed his cheekbones as you spoke.

“if you’re this upset, it’s not nothing reggie.” you comforted, hoping the words you had chosen would calm him even a little. “remember when i was sobbing over the ending to that muggle film we watched the other week? that was stupid. so unless you’ve broken your own heart by watching ‘titanic’ or something, i promise you it isn’t stupid.”

to your delight, a broken chuckle permeated the air as regulus nodded.

“i guess so.”

he took a breath and you could see him rolling the words around in his mouth like a vile sweet, trying to put them out the best way he possibly could. regulus was always one to be particular, never just spitting out words without carefully considering each and every one.

“it’s just, you deserve better, cherie. better than me.”

involuntarily, you gasped, eyes wide as you snapped to face him.

“what on earth are you talking about?”

“i’m not daft, y/n. i know i’m not the most outwardly affectionate boyfriend out there, god, i’m probably up there with the least. it’s not fair to you.” he laughed, bitterly. “you’re a ray of fucking sunshine, you know darling? and you deserve someone who’ll show you off and sweep you off your feet. i love you more than anything, and i just wish i was capable of fucking showing it.”

“reggie love, where is all of this coming from?” you asked cautiously, not wanting to prod or push the boy in a way that would upset him further.

he shrugged, looking almost embarrassed as he averted his gaze.

“just always been on my mind, i guess. i didn’t want to get this upset over it, but mulciber wouldn’t stop making comments about our relationship and it just got to me.”

a hot flash of anger coursed through you, and you made a mental note to see if sirius could manage to get some form of revenge in regulus’s honour.

“no one has the right to tell you anything about our relationship.” your words were stern, but not cruel. “mulciber has no idea what he’s bloody talking about.”

“i know that, mon amour, but intimacy has never been my strong suit. when you’re a ‘black’, affection is basically non existent. but i’m trying, for you.”

“regulus, you don’t need to change for me, you know that right?” you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, keeping his face cupped in your hands. “i’m dating you because i love you, and i love everything about you. the fact you won’t snog me in the corridors doesn’t change anything.”

his lips split into a proper smile as he returned your kiss, running a hand through your hair and resting it on the back of your head as he pulled you in. his lips were slightly salty, but plush and soft as ever.

as he pulled away, you smirked.

“matter of fact, i quite like having you all to myself, regulus black.”

reblogs / feedback is much appreciated angels🤍

regulus black taglist; @thesilverskull @lilgayn00dle @cloudlessnightsleeplessfight @bazpitchs-violin @neilfuckingperrydeservedbetter @adoreachilles @wlfstxr @matte-moony @d22malfoys @dulcet-lover @anderperrysupremacy @teen-years-suck @akisslikemarble @bxckbexk @wrathspoet @regulusblackswhorecrux @onyourgoddamnleft

marauders masterlist !

#becca's writing <3 #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black imagine #regulus black x y/n #marauders era #marauders era imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x you

[bump1nthen1ght]

Sex on the Rocks (Merman x Reader)

Pairing: Male!Reader/Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Relationship

Warnings: 18+ content under the cut!, Size Kink, Breeding Kink

Word Count: 2578 words

Summary: You and your boyfriend discover some new things about yourselves.

Request: May I request a Merman x Male Reader? With a size kink, and breeding kink if you're open to that. Thank you! ❤️

“Can you see it?”

“Nope! This rock’s a bit too slippery-” An unflattering yelp leaves you as your hand loses its grip on the stone, your wet feet lacking any grip as you slide off the boulder and back into the cold ocean water. Your head goes under for only a second before Juno grabs you by the armpits, yanking you back up.

You sputter and cough, collapsing back onto Juno’s chest as you shake water out of your hair. Juno cranes his neck forward, barely hiding a laugh.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, just...lost my grip for a second.” You shrug off Juno’s hands. He quirks an eyebrow up, like he doesn’t believe you, and you roll your eyes. “The water’s like, five feet deep, I’ll survive.”

“I don’t know.” Juno teases, playing with your messy hair, “I know you humans aren’t the best at swimming. But don’t worry,” Juno throws his large arm around your shoulder, “I can be your Orca in shining armor.” Juno winks, a strand of his long, black hair falling over his shoulder. He looks like he belongs on a romance novel cover.

You push yourself off of  Juno’s chest, giving him a playful slap.“Okay, Romeo, whatever you say. But we should find a place to chill out if we want to catch the sunset.”

Juno laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before he nods.

The two of you usually come to this cove on your date nights, finding a nice spot on the beach to laze around and talk before watching the sun descend together. But some teenagers had decided to throw a huge bonfire this very night and the beach was way too crowded for any alone time. Juno’s idea had been to swim farther out into the sea and chill on some rocks, but so far none had been both comfortable and able to view the horizon.

The two of you look around, trying to find a rock safe enough for you to climb, before Juno hums.

“I got an idea.”

You barely have time to get out a ‘What” before Juno’s arms are wrapping around your knees and hoisting you up into the air, your hands scrambling to find purchase in his hair  as your legs wrap around his chest. Juno shows no sign of exertion as he presses up even higher, shifting his forearm to support your thighs and pointing you towards the sea. “How about that? Can you see it now?”

The wheeze that leaves you is a terrible impersonation of a ‘yes’, your face locked onto the ocean  as you feel your chest begin to burn with embarrassment.

Your ankles dig into Juno’s shoulder muscles, barely wrapping around his large torso as  his tree-trunk arms carry you like a bag of flour.

You knew Juno was strong; He’s a goddamn Killer Whale Merman with an upper body the size of a small table, of course he’s strong.

But wow, did the way he easily throw you around turn you on way more than you thought it would.

You nod your head, taking a deep breath as you try and focus on other things, not about  rock hard your boyfriend just got you.

Unfortunately for you, the position you're in has your crotch pressed right up against Juno’s chest, in between his strong pectoral muscles.

Juno’s eyes drop to your navel, clearly noticing your growing bulge. His expression doesn’t even shift;  His arms just loosen and let your body drop down, until you and him are face to face.

“Are you hard right now?”

You nod, trying to play it cool. It wasn’t as  if this was  weird, you two were dating, but  something about getting a boner from something so simple had you a little embarrassed. Like you were 13 years old again, sneaking peeks at porno magazines and Monster Manuals under your covers late at night.

“Was it because I picked you up?”

You pause, nodding slower this time as you avert your gaze. But a claw comes under your chin, tilting it towards Juno with a slow, controlled push.

Juno had always been a huge teddy bear. You wouldn’t think it, what with the rows of sharp teeth, his long claws, and the myriad of scars that decorate his back and shoulders. But he was as sweet and docile as an Orca Merman could be.

But the look in his eyes at this moment sends a shiver down your spine; They’re so intense and focussed, if you didn’t know better you would think you were about to become his next meal. He rolls his gaze up and down your body, noting how your breath catches when he moves his hand down your neck. He runs his hand downward, thumb brushing against your collarbone and his claws tickling your pulse point. He licks his lips and the smirk he gives you might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, you like that? Then how about,” In a quick movement, he presses his body up against yours, forcing you against a nearby rock, “This?”

Water drips from his chest and onto your face as he pins one of his hands right next to your face, looking down at you with a sultry look. You suck in a harried breath as an overwhelming heat resonates in your belly. The end of his tail curls around your ankles under the water and his other hand wraps around your neck. His grip is light, but it serves as a reminder of how easily he can pin you down, how vulnerable you are in his large, very large hands.

‘Thats, uh,” You suck up the excess saliva building in your mouth, “That’s...r-really good.”

“Hmm?” Juno chuckles, playfully squeezing your neck before his hand drops down to your chest. He pushes his palm into your skin and flexes out his fingers, covering a good portion of your upper half. “You like being pinned, my little mate?”

Words have fully departed from your mind, so you just nod your head, breathless.

Juno leans down and places a gentle kiss on your jaw. It’s light and delicate, like the Juno you know, but the heat it spreads across your body is anything but.

“Naughty boy.” He whispers in your ear, before licking a stripe up your neck. You lean and curve your neck into his mouth, desperate for his affectionate kisses and nips. His teeth just barely meet your skin, enough to leave little bruises and send shocks across skin. “I can’t wait to fill you up.” Juno wraps his atoms under your thighs, yanking them around his hips and forcing you upward. Your crotch presses against his navel as he shifts you both toward a flatbed of stone. “You’ll look so good, dripping with my seed.” Juno hoists your body up onto the rock, his large hand pressing against your stomach and pushing you onto your back. You do so easily, the cold surface feeling especially icy against your flushed skin. Juno pulls himself over you, his triceps bulging as he lays his massive form on top of you. As he rests on his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight, water drips from his soaked hair and onto your face. “My pretty boy. My beautiful, fuckable, mate.” Juno purrs, claws stroking the side of your face.

You weave your hands around his neck, pulling him down for a searing kiss. His tongue easily overwhelms yours as his large chest presses down into you. Your hands travel to his back and clench around his shoulder muscles, craving the feeling of his skin on yours. He’s so much taller than you that you barely reach his lower abdomen, but you fumble your hand downwards to his slit, eyes still clenched shut as you make out.

The hardness of his exposed shaft finds your fingers, dripping with his pre-cum and hot against your palm. You squeeze, clumsily and fervently, and Juno chuckles.

“So eager.” He pulls away, a long strand of saliva connecting you two. “Don’t worry, it’ll be deep,” Juno thrusts into your hand with a grunt, “deep inside you soon.”

With a soft pat on your cheek, Juno scoots himself down your body until his face is level with your crotch. He grabs the tent in your swim shorts, giving it a playful squeeze before grabbing the bottom of your thighs and lifting you up. You shimmy your hips to get the article of clothing off, but before it can even go past your ankles, Juno presses your lower half upwards and folds you in two.

You crane your neck forward, trying to see Juno’s next move, before the feeling of his hot tongue on your ass sends your head back against the rock. You let out a groan as Juno’s tongue begins to prod the ring of muscle, his large fingers leaving indents on your legs as he voraciously digs in.

Jun has always been quite dexterous with his long tongue; On your first date he showed off how easily he could tie a cherry stem into a knot, which had done things to your body not exactly appropriate for a first meeting. It’s also slightly ribbed at the sides, teasing your insides at just the right spots and adding an extra hint of friction as he reaches far inside you. You pant and claw at the rock below you, before finding purchase in Juno’s hair. Your climax grows steadier and steadier. It strains your shoulders and neck, but you try and peer up and look at how perfectly he eats your ass out.

Knife sharp, baby blue eyes meet yours, and it’s like a gallon of ice-water has just washed over you, goosebumps rising all over your skin as Juno sends you a wink.

You’ve never seen this playful, dominating side of him before. You can’t help but thank your improper boner for awakening it inside him. Especially when he hits that part- that part-ooooh.

Juno detaches with a pop, his tongue sliding out of your ass as he licks his lips. With one hand still firmly gripped around your thigh, he pushes himself up so you’re face to face. His long fingers splay out next to your neck, his palm easily matching the size of your head, as you give him a dazed and pleasured look.

“You ready?”

You nod, drool pooling in your mouth as your eyes wander up and down his body, your lower half seizing as he playfully squeezes your thigh. He removes it to grab his shaft, spitting into his palm as he strokes and places his tip at your entrance.

“Tell me if the stretch is too much, okay?” Juno whispers, that familiar sweetness back in his voice. You nod, but all you’re focused on is that little bit of pressure, teasing what's to come.

Juno slowly inserts himself and  he both of you throw your heads back with a groan. He worries his  bottom lip as he sinks farther and farther into you, pressing your thighs up to your chest. The harsh scrape of stone rings in your ears as his claws dig into the rock, small pebbles flying outward as he leaves long, white marks below him.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Juno finally reaches his base, comfortably seating himself inside you with a small roll of his hips. His chuckle is stuttered, peppered with a moan as he gives another tiny thrust.

“Hm, good job, taking me all the way in. For a second I thought I might be too-” Juno humps with a little more vigor, forcing the air out of your lungs, “Big for you.”

You shake your head. “N-No. You’re just-Ah!-right.”

Juno laughs again, giving you a small peck on the cheek.

“Good.”

With that, Juno slowly amps his pace, adding more thrusts with a lot more power. His jutting  hip bones dig into your  ass cheeks as he punctuates each thrust; Grinding deliciously against your prostate before pulling out until only the tip is left. He moves the hand by your head up to your other thigh, clutching tight as he lays his weight against your lower body. Your knees have been pressed into your collarbone, the stretch a little uncomfortable for your lower back, but the shockwaves of ecstasy do everything to relieve it.

“Don’t think-” Ungh “I’ve ever been this deep in you before.” Ah “Can’t wait to f-fill you, it will be so delicious.”

Your tongue has started to fall out of your mouth as your brain grows fuzzy, your only responses being slurred “Yes” and “Uh-huh.”

“You’re going to look so good, dripping with my cum. I’ll pump you so full, my beautiful little mate.” Juno’s claws dig into your skin, leaving small, white half-moons in the meat of your thigh. “Perfect little breeder. You’ll take it all, huh? Don’t want to waste-” Juno gives a harsh thrust, “a-” and then another, “-drop.”

You nod, movement uncoordinated as  your climax begins to reach its peak. The burning in your gut feels red-hot, and you wrap your ankles around Juno’s lower bag, urging him to go deeper, hit even harder. Juno lets out a delicious moan.

“You want it? Say it, beg for my cum.”

Juno slows down his thrusts, getting tantalizing close to your deepest spot before pulling out. You whimper.

“Please, please! Give me your cum, give me it, all of it!”

Juno leans down and gives you a long, passionate kiss, before resuming his pace. Your lower half begins to  jerk as you get closer, closer, closer-”

“Ungh, cumming!” Juno roars as the two of you climax together, his dick pouring thick load after load into your ass. You can feel it seep into your skin, dripping out of your ass as Juno rides out his own orgasm with tiny humps. The shiny substance coats his navel and crotch, catching the setting sun as he finally pulls out.

Your legs scream with relief as they uncurl, relaxing your legs onto the cool stone below. Juno unfurls his claws and collapses next to you, chest heaving and his skin flushed pink. The sound of your breath and the crashing waves is all that lingers, both of you too tired to even form a thought.

A shaky claw pets the side of your face, pushing some unruly hair out of the way. You turn your neck to  the side, enjoying Juno’s content and debauched face.

“We should,” He sighs, “Do that position more often.”

All you can do is nod, leaning just close enough to give your boyfriend a bunny kiss.

“Yeah, definitely.”

As the two of you catch your breath,you notice the blend of purples and pink hues off the sky above. You crane your neck upward a tiny bit and catch the slightest bit  of yellow, hinting a trail to the sunset, still out of your view.

You cuddle up to Juno’s chest, resting your head on his pecks, and point upwards.

“Do you see the colors?”

“Yeah,” Juno whispers, a claw playing with your hair, “It’s beautiful.”

The sun falls far away, the night sky darkening into a pitch black, with few spots free of light pollution. The wind brings a chill and you know the swim back is going to be a bitch on your muscles.

But in the arms of your boyfriend, everything feels perfect.

#my writing #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #merman #merman x reader #monster x reader #monster romance #monster/human

[lovely-angst]

break ups and break ins

a/n: i didn't have any motivation to continue writing so it stayed in my drafts for forever. it's a super messy fic im not super proud of tbh i wanted to scrap it but i got so far lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: you and hawks break up, but someone breaks in?

word count: 3.7k+

09.16.21

-

"come on, stop being so sensitive," hawks groans with an eye roll as you gawk at him. "you think i'm being sensitive because I'm hurt that you're out there flirting with other girls while we are in a relationship?"

you scoff in disbelief before tears form in your eyes, "i can't believe you right now, keigo."

hawks' brows knit as he stares at you bewildered, "i've already told you that it's just an act i have to out up because of the commission. i can't let them figure out i have a romantic relationship with someone. you don't know what they would do or could do."

"but that doesn't mean you can flirt around with no boundaries!" your voice comes out loud as your arms flail out in front of you, tears streaming down your face, "do you know how much it hurts to see you on television sweet-talking every girl out there when you're my boyfriend? i thought you would respect what we have..."

"(name), just admit you're just jealous of the fangirls and leave it at that," hawks closes his eyes, shaking his head in frustration, "honestly, they appreciate me so much more than you do."

your eyes widen in shock as you feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces so small you aren't sure if you could piece it back up.

"keigo, i love you for who you are—not because you're hawks," your voice now small and laced with hurt. "if you can't see the reason why i am so upset, i think it's best if we end it."

hawks' eyes quickly glance to yours before they look away just as quick, "i think that's what's best too," he whispers, causing your brows to furrow in sadness as you purse your lips tightly.

taking a step forward, you wrap your arms around your now ex-boyfriend, taking in his comforting arms and smell, "thanks for everything." a heavy sigh left from his lips before he nuzzled into you, "can i hold you in bed one last time?"

words died in your throat as you felt the tears sting your eyes once more. a nod was your only reply as hawks lifted the two of you up with his large wings, carrying you into the bedroom.

no words were exchanged as the two of you allowed your quiet breaths to mingle together in silence.

-

your heart was still achey from the fresh break-up as your cries and tears quietly filled the air. your nose and eyes red and raw from all the wiping you had done—the tissues around you as proof.

"hey, come on. you can't keep living like this and expect to get better," mirko says and she stands infront of you with a small smile. "how about we watch something to distract your mind?" she suggests as she turns around to pick up the controller to turn the television screen on.

"hawks, being the number two hero must be so taxing! how do you do it?"

hawks gives that big bright smile you've always loved, "my fans always give me motivation to do my best! i love you my babybirds!"

"oh shit-" mirko quickly turns the television screen off before she turns over to you, watching as your lips quiver before you break out in another crying session.

"rumi," you whine, muffled behind your tissues, "he doesn't care for me at all!" letting out a sigh, she walks over and places a comforting hand on your hair before running her hand through your locks, "hey, don't say that. hawks' cared for you a lot. break-ups happen, but don't let it keep you like this. let's go out and have some fun today, yeah?"

your teary eyes glance up at her before you let out sigh, "okay."

but to your surprise, a quick hour later here you were on a chair getting your makeup done professionally as mirko sat on the couch, munching away on a carrot. "rumi? why am i getting my makeup done professionally?"

"my makeup artist is good at what she does when she beats my face with makeup for those hero galas. i thought it would make you feel better getting your makeup done professionally before we go out and explore the city a bit," she finishes, taking another crunchy bite of her carrot.

a small, "oh" leaves your lips before your attention focuses back on the lipstick that gently glided across your lips. "there, all done. you look great!" the makeup artist cheers as she hands you a mirror.

your eyes sparkled once you saw your reflection—you had never felt so pretty before!

"are you ready to go out now?" mirko asks with a smile as she stands from her seat. you couldn't help the small, yet excited, smile, "yeah."

-

your words had been on repeat in hawks' mind.

you were upset because of how he was treating his fans—flirting with his fans as you put it. it was a constant argument the two of you had and frankly, he was getting tired of it. why you couldn't understand where he was coming from?

he didn't want to break up because of something so trivial, but it seemed like a break up was the only option. but it was fine, his fans kept him going; or that's what he thought was keeping him going.

"hawks! we love you!" his fans cried as he landed down in front of them, his handsome smile swooning everyone lucky enough to get their eye on him. "thanks birdies! i'm always happy to have your support!"

"can i have a picture?" "sign my shirt for me!" "you're the best hero!"

fans; something he enjoyed about being a hero. everywhere he went, they were there to offer him their love and support which he appreciated and loved!

but there often came days when he just wanted to stay cooped in his apartment. away from the world and away from the hero hawks. he simply wanted to escape and enjoy being keigo for a little while.

maintaining a facade took a lot away from him. it was tiring, exhausting even, trying to keep up with how fast his mind was going. a million different things happening at once and hawks had to be able to solve them. a little much for a single guy, don't 'cha think?

landing in at his balcony, hawks let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with another tiring day of being the number two hero. thankfully, he had the next day off to do, well, nothing.

staring at the dark apartment with a an empty look, hawks let out a groan of exhaustion before unlocking the door and stepping in.

it was quiet, extra quiet these days. since he had gone to living by himself again.

after removing his hero gear, hawks walked into the kitchen and frowned at his lack of food in the fridge. usually, you were always there to greet him with a smile and a hearty dinner after a hard day at work.

well, that didn't matter anymore because you two had broken up, hawks mentally responded to his thoughts.

it seemed like tonight was one of those nights he really missed you.

you made this place feel like home and the more he thought about it, you were his home. he was safe with you and it was okay to let hawks go for the night and just be keigo. you loved him as he came, his flaws and everything. even the emotional baggage!

letting out an exhausted sigh, hawks closed his empty fridge before making his way towards his bed, plopping down with a grunt. "i'll just get a bigger breakfast tomorrow," he noted, pulling out his phone to catch up on his social media for the night.

hawks wasn't expecting to see much on his social media, he's too busy to be checking these sorts of things. today though, he was a little extra bored at home—until he saw a photo of you that mirko shared.

hawks quickly sat up in disbelief. hawks was genuinely confused. you had always been super pretty, but you were extra pretty in this picture. was it because you were no longer his? his eyes glanced over you in the photo for many long minutes as he took in your beauty. you looked so ethereal.

hawks was so thankful for mirko, he would have never stumbled across this photo of you.

the more he smiled at the photo, the more his heart ached. if only he just listened to you more and tried to find a solution to this problem, you would still be with him, in his arms. he was a fool to let you go because he didn't understand your pain. especially when you were always there for him when you couldn't understand his pain.

hawks found himself pulling up that photo of you whenever the days were tough. it never failed to bring a smile to his lips.

until mirko deleted the post.

he should've saved it when he had the chance, hawks thought as he let out a groan upon finding no picture. but, maybe mirko still had it on her phone? thankfully, there was a top five hero meeting that day which meant he could ask mirko about the picture.

hawks sat impatiently in his chair as he drummed his finger against his thigh, counting down the minutes until the meeting would conclude. it must've been distracting, because mirko approached him first after the meeting.

"hey birdbrain, what's up with you? you looked distracted during the meeting," mirko questioned walking up to the winged hero. hawks perked up slightly, before giving her a smile, "hmm? nah, just sick of meetings, wanted to get out." mirko eyed him curiously, "if you say so."

"i saw that picture you posted of (name)," he commented, "you two were hanging out?"

"huh? oh, this picture?" pulling up the picture on her phone, she showed him the photo before pulling away to hawks' dismay. "yeah, we went out. it was about time too! (name) seemed to be enjoying herself, so i'm glad i got to capture that."

hawks couldn't help the smile on his lips knowing that you were happy and could enjoy yourself. he really just wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn't with him.

"if you wanted the photo, you could've just asked," mirko smirks, causing hawks to duck his head down in embarrassment. "but even if you ask, im not giving it to you." Hawks turned his head brows furrowed and confused, slightly offended, "why would you even suggest it then?"

"not sure, maybe it'll be a way to encourage you to find a way to get it."

-

mirko had an interesting way of talking, hawks thought as he continued on with his patrol. it seemed like she was hinting at more than what she was saying, but he wasn't really interested in solving puzzles when he was busy being the number 2 hero.

and boy, was he busy busy.

it felt as if all the villains knew hawks would be out on patrol today, using that to their advatange by stiring up so much more trouble than on a typical day—not that he couldn't handle it, it was just more work that he would have hoped to do that day.

from the sky, he could see a crowd forming below on the streets as they cheered him on for another successful capture. hawks let out an exhausted sigh, but floated down to greet his fans nonetheless. there even happened to be press.

"hawks! you were amazing out there!" "great work! i can always count on you!" "you looked so attractive fighting those villains!"

hawks lifted up his visor and gave the fans a handsome grin, causing a chorus of squeals. hawks glanced at one of the fans near him lips curled in a smirk, mouth ready to open and say a few lines that would send arrows straight to the heart when he subconsciously stopped himself.

closing his mouth, he gave her a gentle smile before a soft reply came out, "thank you for supporting me."

it was weird of him to respond to fans in such fashion, but your words were stuck in the back of his head. he wished he could have acted this way before you two broke it off, it would have saved a lot of heartache.

hawks hoped you would notice his change. and unbeknownst to him, you had.

your eyes were glued to the television that aired the news that also happened to feature your ex-boyfriend, hawks. your heart felt fuzzy as you watched him, he seemed different...more down to earth?

"your eyes haven't left the tv since hawks appeared," mirko comments causing you to avert your eyes embarrassed. "i was just interested in the news for today, that's all," you tried but knew mirko wouldn't buy into your lie.

"yeah, okay. keep telling yourself that," she chuckles as she she sits down beside you. "so, whats going on in that head of yours now?"

"he's different now, rumi," you state, eyes drifting back to the screen. "he's talking to his fans like they're fans." your shoulders slump sadly, "i wish he was like this when we were together...i guess he really doesn't care about me after all."

mirko lets out a grunt as she listens to your moping. turning towards her, you notice her adjusting her purple thigh high socks to sit snugly against her upper thighs, "you have patrol this evening?"

"yep, my turn for an evening patrol. they're not that bad, more bad guys come out at night," she jokes with chuckle but you don't find it funny. "i know you can easily beat them, but that doesn't mean i worry any less for you," you sigh. "stay safe please."

"will do, cry baby," she jokes once more causing you to angrily pout, "i'm not a cry baby!" "says the one crying over hawks. bye!" and with that she quickly leaves out the door before you could throw a pillow at her.

rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over toward the bedroom you shared with mirko. you had a nice futon on the floor beside of her bed that surprisingly was very comfy. organizing her room a bit and folding her clothes she tossed around, you tried to busy yourself until she came back.

which was surprisingly short.

you heard the main door swing open before hearing her move around the living room and kitchen. she must've forgotten something, you thought to yourself as you made your way toward the bedroom door you had previously closed behind you.

"rumi? did you forget something?" you ask as you open the door, just to find yourself staring at the stranger in the apartment who donned a black ski mask with some sort of weapon in their hand. unfortunately your voice had caught their attention and their head quickly turned toward you before bolting it down the hallway for you.

screaming, you quickly shut the door and locked it before the thief could get in. the rattle of the doorknob causes you to let out another shriek as you looked around for a way to protect yourself and to escape.

the only solution that came to your mind was to block the door with whatever heavy furniture mirko had on her room which consisted of her bed, a desk and her clothes drawers. you did your best to block the door, but it was proving to be not enough.

"open the door and i won't hurt you miss," the voice called out and you felt your stomach twist from their words.

you scurried around to look for your phone and thankfully found it amongst this chaos and your body went on auto-pilot and dialed the first person that came to your mind whenever you were in danger.

your shaky hand brought your phone to your ear as you ran into the furthest corner of her room. your free hand covering your trembling lips. please pick up.

"hello? (name)?"

"keigo please help me," you cried quietly so the person on the other side couldn't hear you, but the desperation in your voice was clear as day for hawks. "(name)? whats happening? where are you?" his voice was now firm and laced with worry as you began to sob in through the phone.

"i'm at mirko's and she just left for patrol but someone broke in and i hid myself in her room. i'm so scared, please come quick." and right after he heard you squeak in fear from the unidentified noises through your phone.

"i'm coming right now," you could hear the power his wings had as he lift himself into the sky, "does she have any windows you can exit from?" glancing behind you, you took a mental note that her windows were large enough for you to escape through—the only problem was mirko lived on the tenth floor.

squeezing your eyes shut, you nodded even though hawks could not see you, "yeah, but she doesn't have any escape ladders and i'm on the tenth floor." hawks cursed under his breath on the other side, "just hold on, i'm almost there."

clutching onto your phone, you jumped when the barricade you made against the door was getting tossed around from the force of the stranger on the other side trying to break in. scrambling around, you quickly unlocked the window before opening it, allowing the wind to flow in.

with another jolt from the door all of your barricades flew from the door, leaving it vulnerable. you knew the door would fall with his next move, so with trembling hands, you maneuvered your body outside the window, letting your bottom sit on the window frame.

from a distance, you could hear someone calling out your name. when you narrowed your eyes to focus, all of the stress left your body as you watched them shoot towards you. hawks had come to your rescue!

but hawks wasn't close enough.

the door behind you broke allowing the stranger into the room and before they could grab a hold of you, you jumped.

"(name)!"

as your body free fell down towards the earth, hawks used his wings to give himself one strong push forward before folding his wings tightly behind his back to gain speed to reach you.

reaching his arms out, he caught you in time before shooting back up towards the sky, "that was so stupid of you!" you shouted loudly against the wind, "what if i wasn't there in time?"

glancing up at him, you gave him a small smile, "i just knew you'd get to me in time ."

-

"agh, more paperwork i have to fill out!" mirko groans as she walks around her messy apartment after hawks and her had caught the suspect and had cops take care of him. as she walked away into her bedroom with a line of curses, you quietly turned over towards hawks who had his back facing you. he was on call with the commission.

"yep, i'll get that finished tomorrow," ending his call and stuffing his phone in his pocket, he turns around to find you staring at him. his cheeks flush slightly from the sudden eye contact, but he managed to compose himself. "are you doing alright? that must've been quite the terrifying experience."

"yeah, thanks for picking up. you were the first person i thought to call," you confess and he perks up. "oh yeah?"

"you've always kept me safe and i just really needed you when i was in danger. so thanks," giving him a smile he mirrors you. "of course, anything for you."

your heart flutters from his words, but you slightly turn yourself away, glancing down. you two were no longer dating, so there was no need to get butterflies over him again. "well, thanks again. you must have a busy day tomorrow."

"do you buy any chance still have that photo of you when you were out with mirko?" hawks asks suddenly causing you to glance up at him. "you know, when you two went out a couple weeks ago? you were all dolled up and honestly, just super pretty?" hawks says boldly with a sheepish grin.

"why are you asking?"

"send it my way."

you gawked at him, "you want me to send you a picture of me? we're not dating anymore, that would be weird!" hawks could only shrug, "okay, that's simple then. let's go on a date." you gawked even further, "what is going on inside of that bird brain? all this for a photo?"

"i want to be the one who takes those photos of you. i want to be the reason you get all dolled up. i know i messed up, (name). i've been changing the way i talk to my fans because i understand how i hurt you. could you give me another chance to make it better? i promise i will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

this was coming too suddenly, your wounds were just starting to heal.

"you...you don't mean that, hawks," you say dejectedly as you back up to sit on mirko's couch. "i'm scared."

"he means it you know?" mirko pops out of the hallway suddenly and stands with her arms crossed against her chest as she stares at the two of you. "he's been asking me for that picture nonstop since he saw it online."

"but he really does love you still, (name) and i know you still love him too. go ahead and give it another shot, i'll be here to kick him to the curb if he does anything bad to you." she encourages, making you glance back towards hawks.

"promise?" your eyes are sparkly from the tears that had glossed over your eyes and hawks gives you a confident nod, "promise. i'll pick you up at six tomorrow?"

you couldn't help your growing smile, "yeah, i'll be waiting."

- e x t r a -

as hawks flew off towards his apartment, the notification ding of his phone went off causing him to take a look. you had sent him a text!

opening the message his eyes widen from the photo you sent, it was the cute pic of you all dolled up!

"i'm so in love!" he shouts loudly in the sky.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader

[noteguk]

devilish | kth | m

— summary; in which Taehyung has a bit too much fun toying with your limits. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, Taehyung x reader, established relationship, edging, guided masturbation, dirty talk, corruption kink, sliiiight dumbification, dom!tae, mentions of past virginity loss, mentions of blowjobs, mirror, begging, orgasm control, praise kink, use of the word “slut”, cockwarming, unprotected sex 

— words; 2,4k

— author’s note; this request has been sitting in my askbox since forever because I was stuck with the last version of it. Eventually I deleted that document and completely changed the plot (or lack thereof), and now here we are. I really like corruption kink so :) this was a nice ride 

Requested by anon! 

Taehyung was almost convinced that you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Granted, he was biased. He had been dating you for some time now, but, in his defense, he was positive that the wind had been knocked out of him (how cliche) the first time he had laid eyes on you. And it all went downhill from there. Taehyung became a bit more crazy about you every time he saw you, paid a bit more attention to the small details that he might have missed before — the way you played with your hair, the shy tug of your lips every time he made a flirtatious remark, the fluttering of your eyelashes when you leaned away after a kiss. It was all beautiful, perfect, created by angels just for him. And he loved every second of it. 

It was just a matter of time before his little obsession leaked into the bedroom and Taehyung didn’t hesitate to make good use of it. Even if you were a bit embarrassed by it, always so shy, Taehyung liked to watch you play with yourself as he told you what to do: where to touch, how to move, when to stop. And you were always so good for him — following his orders eagerly, giving him more every time he asked you to. 

You were so, so perfect that he thought he was dreaming. He couldn’t have wished for a better girlfriend. 

“That’s it, baby, take it slow,” his husky voice sounded next to your ear, one of his hands caressing your hair gently. You had your back pressed against his chest, sitting between his legs, with your own thighs open and pushed up to the level of your breasts. He could see everything like that. “So pretty. You’re always so pretty for me.” 

Taehyung had his eyes zeroed in the reflection before you two, the large rectangular mirror presenting him with the glorious view of your flushed heat. He followed, mesmerized, as you circled your clit with two of your fingers, whining beautifully at your growing pleasure, back arching and eyes closing. 

Taehyung was used to your body, how it reacted; he knew the telltale signs that your orgasm was getting closer. And that was the dangerous part. “Shhh, you’re almost there, baby,” he mumbled, the venom in his tone telling you that he would do it again — ask you to stop just as you were about to cum, making you cry and whine until he allowed you to start over. But then your pleasure was almost gone, and you had to build it back up from zero. “Look at you, you’re so desperate. You like playing with your little pussy?” 

You nodded, a frail moan leaving your mouth. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, begging to be filled up. 

“You do? That’s so dirty,” he teased. Taehyung’s hands were resting on either side of his body now, supporting his weight. No matter how much you wanted him to touch you, you knew that he wouldn’t. He found much more satisfaction watching you do it. “Is that pussy wet for me, baby? Does it want to cum?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you implored, overwhelmed. Taehyung had made you edge yourself five times already, it had been going on for too long, and you didn’t think you could stop it again. You would try, though, of course you would, but you were afraid that your body wouldn’t respond in time. “I want to cum, Tae, please.” 

He hummed, placing a wet kiss against the nape of your neck. Taehyung was breathing heavy, fighting against every cell of his body so he wouldn’t bend you over and fuck you full of his cock. He also had his needs, but his objective was to teach you some discipline. He needed you to need him. 

“One more time for me, baby,” he said. His cock was unbearably hard inside his pants, leaking into his underwear as he heard the beautiful sounds of your soaked pussy. He was going insane thinking about how well it would wrap around him, how gorgeous you looked when you were full of his cock. “Stop it one more time.” 

You almost cried out at his words. “N-No, I can’t,” you whined. You could feel your orgasm just about to overflow, your thighs shaking as you continued to rub your clit. “I can’t do one more.” 

“Shhh, you can,” he calmed you down. Another kiss against your neck and you swore you were about to die. “Stop now.” 

And you actually stopped, because you were such a sweet, obedient girl for him. Taehyung watched as your chest heaved, your eyes closing as you pulled your hand away from your pussy, a shaky moan of frustration leaving your lips as you let your orgasm slip away for the sixth time that afternoon. He felt his cock throb in his pants when he saw how soaked and puffy your cunt was for him, caught himself groaning out in hunger. 

“That’s such an obedient slut,” he complimented, his voice a hoarse vibration against your shoulder. Taehyung knew you were on your limit, and he loved that, still, you followed what he told you to do. “You used to be such a good girl, baby, now look at you: edging that little pussy of yours, begging me to let you cum. That makes me so fucking hard.” 

You could only whine, because your limbs had turned to jello and you didn’t think you could find your voice quick enough. Your own reflection stared back at you in the mirror — your skirt pulled up and panties brushed to the side, your heat dripping against the bed, making a mess that you were sure Taehyung would tease you about later. You didn’t know what had happened to you, it seemed as if your life had completely turned around ever since he had walked right into it. 

And, as if he was reading your mind, Taehyung continued talking as your pleasure melted away. 

“When I met you, you couldn’t even kiss me without getting shy,” he started, one of his hands leaving the bed and resting on your waist. Your body shivered at the warm contact, sensitive. “You were this timid little virgin, you hadn’t even touched yourself yet, baby. You didn’t even know how to.” Another kiss against your neck had you shuddering, hoping for more. “And now you are soaking all over my sheets like a good slut. You learned how to take my cock so well, didn’t you? I taught you well.” 

You nodded, brain flooded with images from your past. Taehyung had always been drawn to your innocence, found his delight watching you discover your pleasure for the first time — rather, he loved teaching you, breaking that inexperience apart until he had you whimpering for more, embarrassed and needy, grinding your pussy against him just to feel something. He had turned you into a desperate little thing, an obedient girl that could cum just by playing with your tits, or that would start crying when it became too much — and still would ask him to keep going. 

You were a giver: you liked to provide Taehyung with whatever it was that he asked you to, loved to be showered with his praises every time you made him cum. You liked to play up your innocence just to see how he reacted, weaponized your apparent cluelessness because you knew that he loved to show you how to do things. It was a perfect game that you two played, and it always ended up just like both of you wanted to. 

Taehyung’s hand slithered up your stomach and groped your covered breast, pulling you out of your reveries. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, a shot of pleasure going straight to your core as his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple. 

“Taehyung, please,” you begged once again, your voice a pathetic little thing, “let me cum.” 

“My baby wants to play with her pussy again?” He asked, his voice an octave lower. You nodded. “Hm? Want to make that tight little cunt cum?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you were losing your mind, droplets of sweat running between your breasts. The bedroom was so hot, you felt like you couldn’t even breathe. “I need it so bad.”

He chuckled devilishly against your skin, his thumb grazing your nipple. “Alright, baby, you’ve been good,” Taehyung finally gave in, making you breathe out in relief. “But sit on my cock first.” 

Your heart hammered against your rib cage, your pussy clenching in anticipation. “What?”

“You heard what I said, baby.” He removed his hand from your tit and used it to unzip his pants. The sound was harsh and loud, shooting straight to your dripping core. “Come on, I’m not very patient.” 

Taehyung was patient, though, that was how he managed to edge you so many times without losing his cool. But you bought his act and moved forward so he could fumble with his pants, your eyes following his movements on the mirror as he pulled his cock free. 

You sighed at the sight, your mouth watering with the thought of licking his cock clean. He was so hard and heavy, leaking all over himself, and if you weren’t so desperate to have him inside you, you would’ve turned around and sucked him like he had teached you, until you were crying and he was cumming down your throat. 

“Don’t ride it. Just keep it in.” Taehyung shattered your dreams just as fast as he had built them, a frown covering your features as he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. “Keep my cock warm as you touch yourself, baby. Make a mess on it and I’ll think about fucking you, alright?” 

Taehyung always had wonderful arguments, because that had you agreeing within a second. You struggled to place yourself over him, lining his tip with your entrance and, just as you were about to sink down, he stopped you. 

“No, baby.” Taehyung placed his hand on your chin, tilting your head towards the mirror. “Want you to watch too.” 

“I’ll watch,” you guaranteed, earning a soft smile in return. 

You sat down on his member with ease, thankful for how absolutely soaked you were. Ever since Taehyung had taken your virginity, you realized that you would never get enough of that feeling — of his length stretching you wide open, hitting every spot and throbbing inside you. Back when you had your first time, you had been so flustered that you couldn’t even watch when Taehyung entered you and, now, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from your reflection, your hand clenching the hem of your skirt so it didn’t cover the view. 

Behind you, Taehyung moaned out at the sensation, his eyes closing. “That’s it, baby, fuck.” He breathed out. “This pussy was made for me.” 

And you felt the same, felt like the two of you were made to be together like that, a perfect match for one another. 

Before you could react, his hands were back on your body, playing with your tits as you squirmed under his touches. The movement of your hips against him was automatic, filling the room with the sounds of your wetness and a beautiful whimper coming from your throat. “T-Tae, I’m…” 

“Sit still,” he commanded, ignoring your shy requests for forgiveness. You managed to stop your body from moving, instead focusing on how perfectly he was buried inside you, his pelvis glued against your ass. “Didn’t you want to cum? So, go ahead. Play with your clit, baby.” 

Another moan left you as he pushed your breasts together. “But I want to—“ 

“No, no. You already asked for what you wanted,” he interrupted. Taehyung’s eyes were hooded and dark, looking at you from the reflection like they were daring you to disobey him. “Play with your pussy for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. That’s all you’re gonna get for now.” 

You agreed with a frail movement of your head, your fingers moving back to your sensitive nub. You coated them in your juices before pressing down on your clit, crying out in sensitivity as you started to rub yourself again. This time, with the feeling of Taehyung’s cock inside you, it was much easier to find where you had left off, your walls clenching dangerously tight around him as you searched for your high. 

Taehyung continued to watch you, his gaze burning your body. He was biased, yes, but you were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes upon. And he wasn’t ignoring the way you were moaning out his name, your perfect cunt clenching around his cock, the sweet smell of your perfume infiltrating his nose. All of you was perfect, handmade for him, and he was going insane knowing that you were all his. 

“Gonna cum,” you warned, looking at him through parted lids. Taehyung, of course, knew that already. He knew your body better than yourself. “Can I cum?” 

Taehyung smiled — you were so cute. He had already allowed you to and, yet, there you were, making sure his desires hadn’t changed. Even though you were about to break, you still needed his permission. “Of course, baby,” he said. “You’ve been so patient. So perfect for me. You can cum whenever you want.” 

He could not even blink when you finally tipped over the edge, your pussy gushing down on his cock and pulsating around it as you finally — finally! — found your high. Taehyung knew all those small mannerisms already — the opening of your lips, the rolling of your eyes, the high pitch of your voice — but he couldn’t help but feel like he was experiencing them for the very first time. 

And as you came down from your moment of euphoria, your thighs jittery from overstimulation, Taehyung had erased every single doubt from his mind: you were, undoubtedly, the most precious, beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #smut #pwp #drabble #smut drabble