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jackrrabbit · 3 years

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Adversary /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You make a deal with the devil to save your life, but it turns out Overhaul’s not interested in your soul.

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to do a fantasy collab and then dipped for like 9 months? Hahaha…anyway…

@pleasantanathema @ present-mel @shadowworks—if it’s not too late, here’s my part for the Pleasant & Strider Fantasy AU Writing Collab from a million years ago. Go check out the masterlist and gorge yourself on these amazing pieces!!

Tags/Warnings: dubcon, demon fuckery & occult things, big heresy/sacrilege/perversion of religion, sex in a church ft. Catholic sex guilt, other than that it’s not that bad lol, inexperienced reader, mild degradation, shameless camp and demon-fucking clichés, Overhaul calls you “little girl” 👉👈

He doesn’t look like a demon.

Not that you really know what demons are supposed to look like. But…red skin, right? Fangs and claws and swirling masses of bad energy. Maybe cloven hooves for feet. Yes, that’s the Disney version—but even if you didn’t expect a cartoon personification of evil, you didn’t expect this.

He looks like a doctor, you think. Lab coat hanging open, surgery mask pushed down under his jaw, stethoscope draped over his shoulders. No, he’s a little young to really look like a doctor…an intern, you amend, shifting back in your hospital bed. He looks like he fits right in here, not a hair out of place. Except for, you know, the polished black horns curling out of the sides of his skull.

Overhaul. It was written in the book. That’s the only thing you have to call him in your head.

He’s standing in the center of the sigil you drew at the foot of your bed before midnight, surveying the room critically without meeting your gaze. He looks annoyed—that’s not a good sign, is it?—but then again, of course he’s annoyed. You’d be annoyed too if you got summoned out of your cozy hell dimension in the middle of the night. According to the book, you’re lucky he even showed up…although ‘lucky’ isn’t really how you’d describe yourself most days.

“So,” Overhaul says after a long moment of silence in which you question every choice you’ve made in your relatively short life. “You’re dying.”

You nod.

“And you don’t want to be.”

You nod again, wondering if you’re supposed to be contributing more to this conversation. It’s a bit difficult when your mouth is so dry it feels like you’ve been eating dirt, but you suppose being in the presence of an unholy servant of Satan will do that to a person.

“Fine.” He sighs, frowns, and then finally lowers his gaze onto yours—and you shiver.

Those eyes. No human has eyes like that.

“Make me an offer,” Overhaul tells you, and through his open mouth you catch a flash of sharp white teeth.

Okay. Okay. The chirping of the heart monitor speeds up (as if it weren’t obvious enough that you’re terrified) and you fold your knees up to your chest and fidget with your ring and think. He’s giving you a chance to establish parameters. You’re supposed to start with his end of the deal, the thing you want from him. That’s what it said to do in the grimoire, aka the 19th century demonology volume your creepy cousin brought back from her pagan anthropology research trip in rural France. The one you keep hidden under your bed because your mother would burn it if she knew you were reading about summoning demons.

Offer nothing to a hell creature without first telling him your price. You know the words by heart, both the winding calligraphy of the original French from the grimoire and the rushed scrawl of the English translation your cousin left for you in sheets of lined paper layered between the pages of the book for you to read. Really, this is her fault. She was the one who slipped you the book, who told you that it worked, who snuck you the ingredients for the summoning. She was the one who left a bookmark at the chapter on this particular demon, one that specializes in ‘Contrat pour Remédier au Déséquilibre des Quatre Humeurs’, which she said meant a contract to cure any illness. Even his ‘name’ is translated in her hand, practically an afterthought in the margins of the page.

‘Le Malin qui Ravage et Rebâtit’— Overhaul?

You looked up the literal meaning of this phrase on your own. It did not reassure you.

“Girl.” His voice is cold, irate. Your eyes snap back up to his and it feels like that burning gaze is laser-beaming into your skull. “Do not test me. My time is limited…as is yours.”

You swallow. “How long do I have left?”

“Less than a single human year,” he tells you without a trace of sympathy. “Seven months, twelve days, three hours. Or so. You’ll be too exhausted to leave this bed in four months, and the pain will become intolerable in six… By the end, you’ll wish—“

“Stop,” you breathe out. The heart monitor is beeping wildly and you squeeze your knees into your chest, trying to calm down your breathing. “Stop, I—I want to live.”

“Of course you do.” Overhaul’s lip curls. “How very predictable.”

Be specific, you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the stifling disapproval from the man—the demon—in front of you. Something about him (maybe how clean-cut he looks, maybe the indisputable authority in his demeanor) makes you want to impress him. But you didn’t turn your back on your religion—you didn’t draw pagan symbols on the floor in chalk, fill silver cups with various questionable substances (including your own virgin blood), and turn the crucifix your mother hung over your bed upside-down so you could let a demon make you feel guilty for wanting to survive. “I want to be cured. I’m okay with whatever natural death I have instead when I’m older, I just don’t want to die of this illness. I want you to make me healthy.”

“Simple enough. What else?”

‘Simple’? Your heart surges with something you’ve felt very little of since your initial diagnosis—hope. “T-That’s it. Just the cure.”

Overhaul glares at you. “Humans… Every vice in the world available to you, and you limit yourselves to the basest priority of survival.”

“But you can do it? You can cure me?” you persist.

Overhaul steps forward (quiet, so quiet you wonder if he really moved) and holds a hand out to you past the foot of your bed—you hesitate, and a second later you can see the muscles in his hand flex, stretching the latex of his plastic gloves tight over his knuckles.

Just do it. You give him your hand. Carefully. Like you’re scared the contact will burn you. It doesn’t (although his skin feels warmer than yours), but after a moment his grip tightens, sliding down past your hand to circle the fragile bones of your wrist and squeeze.

“Ow?” You wince.

The demon’s eyes flicker closed for a second, lips moving silently like he’s talking to himself—and then he drops your hand unceremoniously back onto your lap. “You could be cured before the sun rises this morning. I doubt your stay in the hospital will extend past the end of the week.”

He sounds bored, voice as flat and passionless as it was earlier, but your heart is soaring. Cured. You’ve lived with this illness for so many years, you can’t remember the last time someone told you you could be cured. And getting out of the hospital that soon? You can just imagine taking down all the decorations from the walls of your room here and setting them up in your old bedroom at home. You could see friends on the weekend and not take an oxygen bag, you could get a job or—or apply to college, you could have a life—

“That is…assuming you have something to offer me in exchange for the cure.”

Your stomach drops. You’d almost forgotten about the other half of the deal.

“Don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing.” Overhaul steps back, and the orange light of the candles you set sends strange shadows over his arrogant face. The fires look brighter now, and you find yourself tracing the lines of those shining black horns. In an odd way, they look natural—so organically framing his temples that you can’t imagine him without them.

“N-No, of course not. I have some money—I mean, my mom has some, and I can get it for you…” Which is half the truth. If you know anything, it’s that your mother’s spent most of her savings on your treatment and care. You probably have more debt than you have money in the bank right now—you’d try to get rid of that, too, if you hadn’t read in the book how important it is to keep your request as simple and straightforward as possible.

…Although it’s apparently not enough. Overhaul’s eyes narrow, molten gold irises carved into slits. “Even if I had a use for human money, do you really believe your life is worth so little?”

“No—no,” you say quickly. “I just thought—in case you were interested—”

The air crackles with energy, the candle flames spark bright blood-red, and the hair on your arms stands straight up. “I am not.”

“Okay! I get it.” You wave your hands back and forth, pulling your IV line from side to side with the motion. The book was very clear about staying calm and rational while you work out the terms of the deal, but that’s easier said than done when you have a real live (live?) hell creature in front of you. You always knew this was going to be the hard part—all the stories say there’s only one thing that a demon would be interested in, and no matter how inviting the prospect of living past this illness is, you know you’d rather die than sell your immortal soul to the devil. “I’ll give you anything except my soul! And—and don’t hurt anyone I care about, or— just don’t hurt anyone, okay? Other than that, if there’s anything I can give you, I will.”

Overhaul’s lip curls, baring a thin strip of those unnaturally sharp canines. “And is your soul really so valuable?”

This throws you for a loop. Isn’t that the standard deal? A soul for a wish? That’s how it’s supposed to work—at least in this twisted version of reality where you can summon a demon to perform unholy miracles for you. But if you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense, does it? Why would your soul be valuable to him? You can’t form an argument, especially since you’re not willing to barter it away in the first place.

Your mouth is pursed open as you search for a response, but Overhaul doesn’t seem willing to wait. A gloved hand wraps its way around the railing at the side of your bed, and he leans in closer. “Little girl…what makes you think you possess anything I desire?”

Little girl. You’re not a little girl, you’re a grown woman—and yet there’s no untruth in the statement. In front of him you feel insignificant, immature, weak. You have nothing real to offer, and something tells you that you’re not going to get rid of the demon you summoned without a sacrifice you’re not willing to make.

You twist your ring around your finger—the nervous habit you haven’t bothered to break because you’ve always had more important things to worry about—and the glint of silver in the candlelight must catch Overhaul’s eye because before you even notice him moving, your delicate hand is trapped in his larger one to give him a better view of the tiny piece of jewelry. “What is this?”

“It’s—um, a ring. A purity ring.” Has he never seen one before? Well…actually, that makes sense.

Overhaul turns your hand over in his without touching the band of silver. He’s looking at it closely, inspecting the lovingly engraved cross in the design and the inscription on the other side. “Matthew 5:8,” he reads out.

“…Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” you recite cautiously. It feels wrong to speak the words in front of him, but somehow you can’t help yourself.

Overhaul’s hand doesn’t leave yours. “This ring is important to you.”

“It’s a symbol of a—a promise I made to God. To save myself for my future husband.”

“To ‘save yourself’? To save what?”

You can’t believe you’re explaining this to a literal demon. You close your eyes and inhale slowly and taste smoke. “My…virginity. It’s a promise that I won’t have sex until I enter into a biblical marriage.”

At this, Overhaul is quiet. You give him a moment to answer, half expecting him to question why you think God cares about your sexual status (honestly, you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered this yourself), but he stays quiet until you peek up at him to try and gauge the look on his coldly handsome face.

He’s still staring at the ring. He hasn’t touched it—maybe he can’t, because of the cross?—and through the latex, his skin feels hotter than a human’s is supposed to be.

“Is there…” you start, but you trail off when you realize you have nothing to ask. You give a little tug to try and take your hand away and you’re surprised when your wrist actually slides out of his grip to fall back on the nest of sheets in your lap. You didn’t think he’d let you go so easily.

Overhaul turns his head to the side, eyes drilling into you so you feel like you should lower your gaze. The candlelight flickers in strange shadows over his horns. “This will do,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“In exchange for your cure.” The demon taps his own left ring finger, the place where the purity ring sits on your hand, and your heart soars. He actually wants that? It’s just a simple silver band, not worth much, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it has some special significance because of the religious connotation. Your mother will be angry you’ve lost it, but you’re happy to cope with that if it means living to actually get married!

“Yes!” you blurt out before he has a chance to rethink his offer. Sure, you’ll miss the purity ring—you’ve had it since you were a kid, after all—but there’s no question you’re getting the better end of this deal. At least in your opinion.

Something flashes through his yellow eyes, something you don’t even want to try and identify. “The contract, then.”

You barely have time to notice that his voice has gentled, that it’s practically silken in comparison to before, when the candlelight flickers again and suddenly the contract is everywhere. Everywhere. Writing appears on every surface in the room, covering the walls, stretching over the ceiling, coiling around the sides of the hospital equipment and decorating your bedsheets until you and Overhaul are the only untouched surfaces in sight. The characters are inscribed in red, dark red like—don’t think about that, you tell yourself squeamishly. You can make out some of the letters, even a word here or there—French, you recognize, mixed with what looks like Latin and interspersed with what you can only guess are runes.

“I can’t read this,” you tell him, fidgeting with your ring for what you now realize will be the last time.

“I only need your name,” he purrs, and then you feel a fragile weight in your hand: a feather, pearl-black and glossy and too large to belong to any bird you can think of, its angled tip glistening with wet ink. There’s an empty space in the writing before you, and Overhaul’s gloved hand comes to yours again to guide you into place.

This feels wrong…then again, of course it does. Even if you’re getting off relatively easy and just losing your ring rather than your soul, you’re still making a deal with a demon. You sign your name, forcing yourself to think about the future you have ahead of you rather than a disapproving white-bearded caricature of The Man Upstairs wagging his finger at you for haggling with a literal servant of Satan. People have done worse things to survive, haven’t they? It’s just a ring.

You set the feather down and Overhaul sighs, thick black eyelashes obscuring his intense gaze for a moment—and then the contract is gone, leaving your hospital room as blank and sterile as it’s supposed to be (well, aside from the candles and all the other ritual stuff you threw together to summon a demon in the first place).

“Are you going to cure—heal me now?” you ask.

“…Patience, little girl.” He’s pulling his glove off, peeling it down his fingers to bare the pale skin of his hand. You catch your breath and wonder what this is going to feel like, and then the tips of his fingers meet your cheek and—

you stop breathing.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or if it does, you don’t remember the pain a second later when breath floods back into your lungs. What you do feel is energy. Strength in your muscles, blood pumping through your veins, every inhale and exhale as light as a bird and freer. You feel healthy. You’re surprised you even remember what health feels like but you do: it’s like you’ve only been half alive, and now life is surging into you and through you and around you, bubbling up in your core like a spring overflowing. You blink rapidly, thinking you might cry from the sheer pleasure of it, but when you open your mouth it’s laughter that comes out. You’re healthy. You’re alive. You barely notice the IV line literally falling off of your skin because the hole where it entered your vein is sealed shut and healed perfectly.

No more needles. No more hospitals. Even without all the monitors beeping out your heart rate and measuring your vitals, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’re cured.

“Thank you!” you laugh, looking up at Overhaul and for the first time, not caring that he’s evil incarnate. “I feel—I’m okay! It worked!”

“Of course it did.” His expression is inscrutable, but he lets you have a few moments to enjoy your newfound health.

You roll your shoulders back, flex each muscle you can isolate one by one to test, make fists with your fingers and then run them over your hair, which is already thicker and shinier than it was a moment ago. Your body thrums with energy—you want to run, to feel the ground against your bare feet and the cold night air on your face, and you think you could do it! Your legs are already swinging over the side of your cot, ready to run barefoot out of the hospital if that’s what it takes, but before you can stand up Overhaul’s pushing you back down onto the bed.

“Have you forgotten your end of the bargain already?”

Honestly you did forget, but only for a second, only because you were so excited to just be outside again. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” Your hand goes to your left ring finger, ready to slip the ring off and hand it over, but Overhaul shakes his head.

“Not here.”

“What—?”

You’re falling. Your hospital room is disappearing, the image of your walls and your window and your bed disintegrating into yawning black, and you’re falling through it into nothing, into emptiness, and Overhaul’s still-bare hand in yours is the only anchor you have so you clutch onto it and squeeze your eyes shut. You want to scream—that’s the sane thing to do when you’re falling through miles and miles of empty space, right?—but when you open your throat the sound is swallowed up just like the light was…

Overhaul’s hand burns into yours, an improbable lifeline that you pull closer more out of terror than conscious thought. The slick, empty air rushes around you and you think I am going to die like this and then, incredibly, as soon as you’ve accepted your imminent demise, you feel your back mold onto a chilled, flat surface, vertebra by vertebra up to the back of your head, as if you’ve been lain down onto it.

Your heart thuds in your ears and you brace for an impact because your body hasn’t quite accepted yet that it’s not falling anymore—but at the same time, you know you’re lying down on something. You pry your fingers away from their vice-grip on Overhaul’s arm and feel around blindly for what’s underneath you, and when it seems reasonably tangible you let yourself open your eyes.

Way above, vaulted dozens of feet over your head, is a ceiling studded with gilt-edged frescoes and stained glass. It’s raining (even though it wasn’t in the hospital, you think) but through the massive panes of colored glass there’s enough oily blue light to make out that you’re in a church.

You’re in a church, with a demon. Isn’t that against the rules?

You sit up stiffly and look over at Overhaul, who’s standing at your side and looking down at you…which is how you realize the soft, cold surface you’ve been deposited onto is the blanket on top of the altar in the sanctuary. “Where...did you take me?”

“You should know this place.”

And you do, when you look around. It’s empty now and you’ve never been here at night, but this is a church your mother would bring you to when you were little, back before the disease got so bad you couldn’t risk traveling to it anymore. This is where you took your purity vow…the ring feels heavy on your hand. “Why—why—“

“I can’t stand human hospitals. Filthy places… How that reek of illness and death doesn’t bother your kind, I’ll never understand.” Overhaul pulls his latex glove back on. He’s dressed differently now, no longer impersonating a doctor—black shirt, black pants, and a…bird mask in red leather and gold. So are you, as a matter of fact. Instead of your hospital gown, you’re in a gauzy white dress that’s already been pushed up to pool around the tops of your thighs.

The slip is too thin for the cold, and you can feel your nipples standing up under the cloth so you fold your arms over your chest and hug yourself. “Why did you take me here?” The sound of your voice echoes off the walls eerily and you wish you hadn’t spoken so loudly. The reflection of your words sounds girlish, nervous.

“I told you. Your side of our contract.” Even in this dark, the angular features of his face are clearly concentrating—on you. “Are you already having second thoughts? Such a fickle little thing…”

“You mean the ring?” You reach for it again, ready to tear it off and throw it at him if that’s what it takes to see your deal through, but Overhaul snatches your hand away, pinning it above you.

“Not the ring,” he says. “The promise.”

The…promise?

A chill makes its way down your spine despite the heat radiating off the demon’s body and onto yours. “I don’t understand.”

“The promise,” Overhaul repeats—and you hear a sound almost like wings flapping and then he’s on the altar with you, knees straddling your hips as a single hand holds both your wrists above your head. “To remain a virgin until marriage. Your promise to God.”

A streak of lightning cracks down on the other side of the stained glass window behind the altar, illuminating the room briefly in spectacular pits of red and orange and yellow…and then it’s dark again, and the only color you can make out is the gold in Overhaul’s eyes.

“I’m going to break it,” he murmurs, lowering his head toward your ear right as the answering thunder rolls through the sanctuary, up through the altar, up into you.

///

Méfiez-vous de son piège, the grimoire said. Beware of the catch.

Of course it wasn’t just a ring.

Overhaul’s fingers are in—inside you, his middle and ring finger pumping through the length of your cunt like they belong there, like you were made to be touched this way. A mixture of your juices and your own spit cling to the latex because he made you suck his fingers before he put them in you and he hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off—not that you asked. You’ve been too busy biting your lip to try and muffle the moans that he keeps forcing out of you. He’s bracing himself on top of you with one hand and fingering you with the other, so your own hands are free to push into your eyes and hide your face…until he yanks your arm back and stops.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes are screwed shut and you shake your head back and forth, the movement shuddering your whole body right down to your pussy wrapped around Overhaul’s fingers. He slows the movement and kneels back, pushing one of your thighs up into your chest as he does it.

“Look at me.”

And you’re not sure whether it’s some unearthly power he has over you or the plain old deterioration of your willpower, but you can’t refuse him. You crack your eyes open and he’s glaring down at you, skin pale as ice in the blue light. Once he’s satisfied that you’re watching, the demon leans back in to fuck your cunt with his fingers, slowly at first and then quicker when he hits something inside of you—a spot, a place on the inner wall of your pussy that makes you feel like you’ve been shocked— heat blooms through you like blood in water and you gasp and he curls his fingers up to pet over that spot again.

“Wait—wait, that’s—it feels—weird!” You’ve never felt like this before. You’re not supposed to feel like this, it’s wrong.

“I understand you’ve never touched yourself, but don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Overhaul says, voice as indifferent and calm as ever even though your cunt is dripping clear sticky liquid over the plastic of his glove.

He pushes back in and grinds his palm over the little button on the top of your pussy—your clit?—and you want to scream. “No, I—I don’t—nnhh...”

Do you like it? The demon’s body is so hot next to yours, like he’s running a fever except you’re the one going out of your mind… You’ve heard metaphors for sexual pleasure before (that it’s like having something to drink when you’re dying of thirst; or that it’s the ultimate act of intimacy, love in physical form) but all of that’s a fucking lie. There’s nothing to compare it to, no reference that makes sense, because it doesn’t make sense—you don’t even want him to keep going, do you? You’re only doing this because you signed your name on a devil’s contract, because you don’t want to die and there’s no alternative…but that doesn’t explain why you feel so warm from the inside out, why you’re squirming and your hips are rocking involuntarily no matter how much you try to keep still. This isn’t right. You feel like you’ve been lied to.

A good girl wouldn’t like this.

Overhaul isn’t going to let you close your eyes, so you don’t—but the sounds coming out of your mouth are so…indecent (and how can you think these things about yourself? the word feels like someone else is saying it when you hear it in your head) that your hand is drifting up to your mouth before you can stop yourself, trying to stifle all of it…

“Let your voice out. I want you to hear yourself moan.”

Long fingers slide their way out of your pussy and then move up to rub quick little circles around your clit and you moan, like a whore, like a girl getting her cunt rubbed by a demon— “Oh, uhhhn—something, it’s—coming—“ There’s something building up in your core—a peak, a climax, something that makes you fist your hands in the nightgown he put you in (so tight you’re surprised the thin fabric hasn’t torn) and tilt your hips up into him, begging without words because you don’t have any to express what your body is asking for…

But he doesn’t give it to you. Overhaul takes his hand away from your pussy and the shock of the cool air after his too-hot touch is almost enough to send you over that edge—almost. Not quite. And without it, you’re left shivering and quaking, thighs twitching as your baser instincts beg you to just put your hand between your legs for once and hump your fingers to completion if the demon won’t do it.

You’re not going to risk that, though. Not when Overhaul’s dragging your body closer, bunching up the blanket on the altar under your spine, so your pelvis is angled to his… He’s already shirtless and you hear him unzipping his pants but you can’t bring yourself to actually look at him, even when you feel something hard and hot nudging up against your inner thigh and then aligning to your sticky wet slit.

“This will hurt a bit, but I want you to look,” he says, and you don’t even understand at first until you make yourself feel it—his cock, pushing up against your tight cunt to finish this, this perversion of what your first time was supposed to be…

And what was it supposed to be? Roses and candles and soft kisses? A nameless, faceless husband unzipping your wedding dress and making love to you with the lights off? The way the demon touches you should be cruel in comparison but it isn’t, it’s lighting fires under your skin and turning your brains to mush, so how is your body supposed to tell the difference?

It’ll hurt, you know that, you’ve heard enough about sex to know that it always hurts the first time for girls…women. It was already a stretch to fit his fingers in your virgin pussy, so of course his cock is going to hurt. You turn your head toward the window at your side and try on look out at the rain drawing rivulets like veins over the glass, something to focus on instead of him.

“I said look,” the demon hisses, and his hips push forward a bit and you bite off a whimper of pain. “Watch me take your virginity…look at your tight little cunt swallowing me up just like it was made to.”

“N-No—“ you whine, even though it’s not like you can ignore it. “Don’t make me, don’t make me look, I can’t—“

“Then look at me.”

It’s what he wants, some kind of wicked satisfaction he gets off on, but you’re lucky enough to even get an option so you choose that one, shifting your gaze up into his face instead of the place where his cock is pressing deeper and deeper inside you. Overhaul’s eyes are half-lidded and it’s hard to tell from behind the mask but the look on his face is…pleasure? No, that would be too human. Restraint, at least. He could just thrust up into your body in one stroke, but he wants you to feel it for some reason.

Maybe because it’s a worse betrayal of your chastity if you want to get fucked.

Lucky for you, though, you can barely feel anything aside from the pain. The heat you felt building earlier is draining out of you even as Overhaul tilts deeper, layering his chest over yours. You’re almost grateful for the modest barrier the dress provides between your torso and the solid muscle of his abdomen. His cock in your pussy feels like it’s too big too deep too much and it’s the first time you’ve felt like your body wasn’t created specifically for this purpose so you hold it tight.

“Does it hurt?”

A second of clarity makes you want to snarl (of course it fucking hurts, I’m losing my virginity to a demon I summoned from hell) and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from saying it out loud. Overhaul pulls out a fraction of an inch and then pushes back in and you feel like the breath’s being pushed out of your lungs. “Yes! Yes, it—it hurts—“

“I can make you enjoy it…for a price,” he sighs, settling into a slow rocking motion of his hips pushing into yours.

And you want to, every sore muscle in your cunt is telling you to give in and give up, give him what he wants so you can enjoy it like he says—but you’d rather hate every second of this than make another deal. You shake your head quickly and because you’re still too afraid to look away from him, you don’t miss the look of surprise that flits across his face before he tamps it down. “I don’t—I don’t want to—like it,” you gasp out between thrusts. “It’s better if—if it h-hurts…”

This time it’s obvious—his eyes really do widen, and you feel some petty triumph at having caught him off guard like this. Who’s predictable now? you think—and then he’s lifting one hand off the altar at the side of your head and tugging his glove off with his teeth, and you don’t even have time to be afraid of what he’s going to do to you because it’s too late, his bare fingers are already stroking over your mound and onto your core, massaging into the flesh of your stomach so he can feel his own cock sliding in and out of you—

and it doesn’t hurt anymore?

You only have a second to try and understand—he cured you, he healed the pain from your first time just like he healed your illness?—before he hooks his grip under your thigh and folds your legs into your chest so he can fuck into you harder than before. His cock slaps into your pussy and you can hear it, hear how wet your filthy little cunt is, smeared through with your juices. It’s sick—the sound of skin against skin, and the moaning you can’t hold back, you sound like a woman in a porno and you wish the pain would come back just so you could keep hating what he’s doing to you. “What—what did you do—“

The demon ignores you. “It feels good, doesn’t it.”

“Nn—“ It’s deeper like this…deeper and rougher and you can feel it. Now that the pain’s been reduced to the dull ache of a stretched muscle, you can feel everything—his cock sliding against that same spot in your cunt that makes you want to squeal, the friction of his body moving against your clit, all of it, everything you wanted to block out— he pumps into you and you hear your breath sobbing out a moan a second out of rhythm, the sounds of you bouncing on demon cock echoing over the walls. “Please—ah, ahhh…”

“‘Please?’ Are you begging—me, little girl?” Overhaul pushes your thigh up and drags his cock through you, excruciatingly slow, forcing you to feel the thick head slide over every gummy wall in your slick pussy.

You shake your head, mewl, try to force your hips to stop rocking back into his and grinding your clit against him. But you can’t. You’re a—you were a virgin, for fuck’s sake! Overhaul’s immortal. Probably thousands of years of experience on how to make you feel like you want this, like you’re only alive in the places he touches you… You’re at his mercy, if he has any. You never stood a chance.

“Then are you begging your god?” His body lowers directly onto yours and like you’re being controlled by puppet strings your arms fold around him and rake your fingernails uselessly into the smooth skin of his back. You can feel the vibration of his mirthless laughter through his chest. “It must hurt terribly…to know he isn’t listening.”

“Don’t—stop, please,” you sob. “Don’t say—don’t stop—please!”

“Listen to yourself, girl—“ Overhaul’s breath is faster now, but you don’t have time to question it because you feel your peak coming again, the tension rising up through your cunt and your abdomen, harsher and crueler than when his fingers were in you but you want it just as much. More. “Has he ever answered your prayers? Has he...ahh, fuck—who’s the one giving you what you need?”

“No— please, please just let me let me, please—“ You’re talking nonsense now, begging for the release—at least then it’ll be over, and you need it, you need it so badly you feel your muscles locking up, cramping, your ankles crossing each other behind Overhaul’s back.

“Good girl,” the demon breathes, and then he lifts off you so he’s kneeling upright with the two of you still connected, his thick, heavy cock still speared in your pussy, and his fingers come down again to rub at your clit. Everything’s so wet you can hear the motion of his fingers slicking themselves through your juices, sliding up and down the little button over and over and it feels so good that a tiny part of you almost wants to drag it out, to savor it, but the rest of your body is going to die, is going to go crazy if the demon doesn’t let you cum right now, right now, right now!

And he does. Praise the Lord. The pads of Overhaul’s fingers pass over your clit one last time and your head rolls back, your throat moves but you can’t even make a sound, your legs shake and you cum.

You didn’t know it was like this.

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, throbbing and pulsing and your toes literally curl (you didn’t think that was a real thing!) and your vision goes black for a moment and—oh fuck oh fuck i want this i want more how is it possible that i’ve never felt like this—you understand, more intimately than ever, why sex is wrong:

because nothing that makes you feel this good could possibly come without a cost, could it?

///

It must take longer than you thought for you to come back to your senses, because when you regain awareness of your body you’re in your hospital bed. You’re clean, too, and you wonder for a second if Overhaul bothered to clean you up? Or no…he probably just snapped his fingers and transported you back to your room. You’re not really sure how it works.

What you are sure of, however, is that you just got fucked by a demon. You’re sore in places that you didn’t know it was possible to be sore, and there are already bruises forming on the flesh of your thighs from how tight he was holding you. You don’t really have time to inspect these, though, because apparently your…ordeal (if you can call it that) isn’t over.

Overhaul’s still here.

He’s facing the hints of sunrise through the east window, dressed again in the immaculate lab coat and surgeon’s mask. “You’re awake,” he says without looking at you.

You nod hesitantly. You’re not really sure what the protocol is in this situation, but at least you’ve finally held up your side of the contract, right? And so has he. Despite having been up all night doing sinful things, you’re still itching to get out of this bed and test the limits of your healthy body. “You’re…going to leave, right?”

“Yes—”

At that, you sigh in relief and settle back into your starched bedsheets.

“But there’s one more thing you owe me.”

“Goddamnit,” you swear for the very first time in your life. After what you just did, taking the Lord’s name in vain seems like a relatively minor sin.

Overhaul’s mildly irritated expression doesn’t change, but he holds his hand out to you, palm up, the way you imagine someone would if they were helping you out of a car or requesting a dance at an old-fashioned ball. And really, you want all of this to be over—you want to get out of this hospital, you want to taste what the air outside is like, you want to distract yourself from what you just gave up in exchange for a future. At this point you’re just going to have to hope God isn’t as picky about the whole premarital sex thing as you grew up believing.

So you put your hand in Overhaul’s.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll burn him, he slides your purity ring down your finger and balances it in the palm of his bare hand. It sizzles when he touches it, glowing orange until it eventually burns down into a ash-black circle in the center of his palm. Once he’s satisfied that your pretty little ring has been reduced to nothing more than a scorch mark, he closes his hand around yours and you feel something sharp, painfully hot, etching onto your finger.

It’s over in a second, but you still yelp and yank your hand away from him as soon as he lets you. “Ah—ow, what was that?”

He burned you, he literally burned you! He’s already healed it, but there’s still a thin, pale scar, an intentional one left wrapping around the skin at the base of your left ring finger. Like a wedding ring.

When you look close, you can make out a symbol on the back of your finger where the cross used to sit—and even though your conscious mind doesn’t recognize it, the sight of it rings out something inside your ribcage, deeper and truer than flesh and blood. It’s the devil’s mark, you think. It’s his.

“…A promise,” Overhaul says softly, and even though it’s a chilly morning, you can feel the heat of his hands on yours a long time after he vanishes back into the dark.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #tw dubcon #tw sacrilege #tw christianity #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 17

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 17 - This Venerable One's Shizun was Injured, This Venerable One is very. . .

What kind of Master of Ceremonies Ghost was this thing? They dealt with aphrodisiacs. At best, other people's aphrodisiacs would let average living people take about their prowess. This immortal was good. The dead could get hard with a small wave of the hand. The hand was truly a wonderful "aphrodisiac"!

He was watching with great interest when suddenly Chu Wanning stretched out his hand and covered Mo Ran's ears.

Mo Ran: "Huh?"

Chu Wanning looked extremely cold: "Such a ridiculous and obscene practice. Don't bother watching it."

"Then you should be covering my eyes. Why are you plugging my ears?"

Chu Wanning's face was expressionless: "Don't look, don't listen. Close your eyes."

Mo Ran: "Pff. Shizun, you are really. . ." He didn't even pay attention to his own red face. If he wanted eyes closed, he can do it himself.

Mo Ran couldn't help but be a little bit happy. Chu Wanning, a person made of ice and snow, had never even seen an erotic picture. At this moment, now that he saw intimacy up close, he would probably choke to death.

The dead couple came together, and gradually both of them became alive. Their dead throat, which was supposed to be silent, actually let out a raspy gasp similar to that of a living person.

Chu Wanning was obviously disgusted. He harshly turned away, not wanting to look again.

Mo Ran noticed this with great joy. He tried to get a rise out of the other. He smirked and knocked against his chin.

Chu Wanning quickly avoided him as if he were being stabbed: "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything." Mo Ran said sweetly and sneakily. With some sarcasm and teasing, he gave him a once-over like he was making a joke.

No matter how old this man is, this kind of thing still makes him blush. . .

No, it's more like a mixture of blue and red. It's quite funny.

"Shizun, didn't you tell us that we must see what the other party is capable of being doing anything? You should also see the ability of this Master of Ceremonies Ghost."

"What is there to see? Don't look."

Mo Ran sighed: "Why do you have such thin skin?"

Chu Wanning replied angrily: "It's improper and nasty. It really hurts my eyes!"

"Then I have to look at it." Mo Ran said, and he lay there nonchalantly. He looked outside again and he said, "Ah", "Wow", "Awesome", "Ouch" and so on. It made Chu Waning completely berserk, and the coffin board could not be held down. He whispered angrily: "Just look, what are you narrating for?!"

Mo Ran said innocently: "I thought you wanted to hear it."

Chu Wanning finally couldn't hold back. He strangled Mo Ran's neck, gritting his teeth: "If you make another noise, I'll throw you out to feed the zombies right now!"

Enough teasing. He couldn't push Chu Wanning too far. When he got anxious, Tianwen would quickly be summoned, so Mo Ran lay there obediently, staring outside, without saying a word.

As the ghost couple reached their climax, the male corpse let out a low growl, spasming and twitching on the female corpse. Suddenly a cloud of blue smoke burst out of them. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost opened her mouth and greedily inhaled the blue smoke until the last wisp of it was in her stomach. This time, he wiped the corners of her mouth gluttonously, and her eyes shone brightly.

It seems that these were the "benefits" that the married couple gave to it, which would increase its cultivation.

"Haha, hahaha—" When the Master of Ceremonies Ghost tasted the sweetness, it became even more radiant. When he spoke again, the misty and empty voice became clear, shouting and roaring. The sharp voice seemed to pierce through the long night. "Rise! Get up! All of you! Wait for the idiot and blame the girl! I kindly grant you intimacy! You offer me your faith! Get up! Get up! Everyone rise!"

Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat: It's over. . .

What is it going to do?!

The surrounding hundreds of coffins all began to tremble, verifying what Mo Ran was thinking. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost is going to summon all the corpses in the coffins to embrace so that it can absorb all their "benefits" at once!

Not caring about joking anymore, Mo Ran yanked at Chu Wanning: "Shizun!!!"

"Now what?!"

"Quick! Get out! Shi Mei is still trapped with the Chen's family daughter-in-law!" Mo Ran was going mad. "Let's go save him!"

Chu Wanning took a look outside. He didn't expect the Master of Ceremonies Ghost would have such a powerful hunger, not wanting to absorb from the pairs individually, but actually wanting to take a huge bite!

The trembling of the coffin next to them became more and more intense. It wasn't a stretch to think that all the pairs of the ghost marriages were inspired to start acting up in the coffins. This thought made Chu Wanning choke, his face growing even more ugly. At this moment, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, who was standing in the same place and laughing for a long time, suddenly felt something. She abruptly turned her head. A pair of black eyes without focus stared straight past the others and landed on the coffin of Mo Ran and Chu Wanning .

It could feel, despite its low intelligence, that the coffin does not have the erotic scent it was familiar with.

There was no faith.

There was no. . .

Living people!!!

Suddenly it arched up, screaming and scrambling. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost's robe flapped up, a pair of blood-red claws stabbing through the coffin wood, piercing the thick coffin, straight into the coffin body.

Its attack was too sudden and Mo Ran was too late to react. Moreover, the space in the coffin was very small, and it was impossible to go anywhere. Seeing its head through the five holes made by the nine-yin white bone claws, its body suddenly fell -- Chu Wan Ning had already swiftly guarded him in his arms, blocking himself in front, and the five pointed claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost suddenly pierced into Chu Wanning's shoulder!

Deep enough to reach a bone!

". . ."

Chu Wanning stifled a grunt but he endured it and didn't shout out. The other uninjured hand was still burning with the sound-dampening spell, and he placed it on Mo Ran's lips, blocking the sound that Mo Ran would've made.

The claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dug into the flesh and blood of Chu Wanning.

It had a muddled brain and it could only judge what was dead or alive by sound. Chu Wanning actually managed not to say a word in this situation, the blood bubbling down his shoulder. Mo Ran was held down so he couldn't see how serious his injuries were, but he could clearly feel Chu Wanning trembling slightly. . .

Living people. . . or dead people? It was impossible for a living person to have not made a sound. The Master of Ceremonies couldn't tell for a moment. The sharp claws shifted around in the flesh of Chu Wanning's shoulder, viciously tearing and scratching.

Chu Wanning trembled with pain. He spasmed, a cold sweat drenching his clothes.

But he was still biting his lip, protecting the disciple in his arms, as if he had really become a corpse and became a dead person, pressing against the edge of the coffin, like cast iron on the wall of the coffin.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost seemed to confirm that anyone in the coffin wasn't alive anymore. It jerked its hand out, blood flying, and he could even hear the sticky sound of fingers being pulled out of the flesh, which made his hair stand upright.

Chu Waning's taut body felt like it had suddenly lost its strength. He let go of Mo Ran and gasped softly.

There was a strong smell of blood flowing in the coffin.

Mo Ran raised his head. Through the dim light leaking in through the hole, he could see Chu Wanning's drooping eyelashes, as well as the moist but stubborn eyes beneath them.

Those slightly provocative phoenix eyes, blurred with pain, but still more cruel and tenacious, a thin veil of mist filling them. . .

Mo Ran wanted to speak. Chu Wanning shook his head and he left the silencing spell on his lips. After a while, he took a slow breath and, with trembling fingertips, wrote on the back of Mo Ran's hand:

The sound-cancelling barrier was damaged, so they couldn't speak.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost outside tilted its head, as if he didn't understand why, even though there was clearly no living person inside the coffin, he didn't follow its instructions, nor could it feel any of offerings of faith.

Chu Wanning raised his head and glanced at it from the gap. His uninjured hand was encaged with golden light, and a willow vine flowing with flaming luster came out in response to the call.

He held Tianwen and narrowed his eyes.

The next moment, they broke out of the coffin!!!

The coffin exploded. Chu Wanning flew out like lightning. Tianwen was both accurate and quick and it strangled the neck of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost who let out an ear-piercing whine——

"Who are you! How dare you!"

Chu Wanning's answer was only one phrase: "Get lost!"

The large, auspicious red robe flipped out, like a cloud wave. He had been holding back just to land the right blow, so he immediately struck with one hand and Tianwen went for the neck! It decapitated the Master of Ceremonies Ghost!

A thick red mist along with a strange fragrance sprayed out from its broken neck. Chu Wanning quickly backed away, avoiding the fog, and sternly said: "Mo Ran! Thousand Killing Cuts!"

Mo Ran had already been waiting on standby. When he heard the order, he clutched the dark sword box in his sleeves, filled it with spiritual power, and blasted it towards the mutilated body who was reaching for his head.

The clay body split open, revealing a flowing red light inside the translucent body. Chu Wanning raised Tianwen again and tied up the immortal spirit body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. A scream came from the body of the headless immortal: "The mortals are safe! The mortals are safe! — Rise! Get up! Kill them! Kill them——!!!"

The golden boy and girl, who had no facial features, suddenly both had a pair of blood-red eyes light up, and with countless squeals and screams, rushed towards Mo Ran and Chu Wanning.

The coffins lying on the ground also shattered and the dead corpses lying inside rose and surged toward the two of them.

Mo Ran's gaze weaved through the crowd, looking for Shi Mei. Chu Wanning barked: "What are you staring at those corpses for? That's not going to do anything!"

The two of them and the Master of Ceremonies Ghost had already flown on top of a coffin, the slow-moving corpses slowly gathering around them. Mo Ran raised his hands to light an exorcism talisman. He cast it in all directions, sending an explosion through the crowd. But there were too many ghosts, another wave of them not far behind.

Mo Ran was flabbergasted: "This many people died in Caidie Town? How many married couples are there?!!!"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "Look at the cultivation level of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. There are so many men and women who didn't die naturally! In all likelihood, it probably compels those who aren't married to commit suicide! Hit over here!"

Mo Ran waved another exorcism talismans toward the place Chu Wanning signaled, exploding a piece of white bone and dead flesh.

"Why isn't the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dead?"

"Ordinary weapons can't hurt it."

"What about Tianwen?"

Chu Wanning was furious: "Can't you see that it wants me to use Tianwen? This Master of Ceremonies Ghost moves extremely fast. If I let go of it, and don't get another grip on it, I'm afraid it will have already escaped!"

Those corpses were piled up more and more. Mo Ran, while fighting, was paying attention to whether Shi Mei was in the crowd, so as not to accidentally hurt him. A golden boy rushed over and violently bit his leg. He cursed inwardly, and he threw an exorcism talisman directly on the golden boy's face. He kicked it into the crowd of corpses and he exploded with a bang.

Chu Wanning said: "Have you seen Shi Mei and Madam Chen?"

After frantically searching, Mo Ran suddenly saw two swaying figures in the distance and said joyfully, "I see them!"

"Get over there and pull the two of them away! Get away from here!"

"Okay!" Mo Ran answered and then he was taken aback. "What are you going to do?"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "I can't raise my other arm, and I can't summon other weapons. I can only use Tianwen. As soon as I release the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, I'll destroy this entire place. If you don't want to die, get out as soon as possible!"

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#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi novel #yaoi #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

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fluffonthebunniestail · 3 years

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Slip up

Hello lovely people, sorry it's been a while! Also, I've been meaning to change the format to keep reading. Apparently, with what I'm using I cannot do that, but it shall change in due time! Yes, this is another Bakugō fic, I cannot get over myself.

Pairing: Lee!Bakugou/Ler!Kirishima

Summary: Bakugou decided to change up his wardrobe slightly, and that means tighter shirts. With that, Kirishima took it personally.

Warnings: swearing, tickle fic

------

Bakugou was really testing his patients.

And he means really testing it.

For the reason Kirishima has no knowledge of, Katsuki had changed his style in shirts: tight and easily riding up.

This shirts weren't a constant; they would come and go, a switch between those and his usual tank tops.

And in all honesty, Kirishima was a bit distracted. He can't blame himself! Even just opening a cabinet and bam: abs on display. Kirishima then took it as a challenge. For what, he had no idea. It didn't matter.

It was perfect when he and Katsuki was alone due to the classmates going out, and the rest going home.

He looked up from where he was sitting (he was watching something on his phone; half of the time looking at other stuff), and he saw Bakugou walking to the kitchen, getting the pitcher of water from the refrigerator.

Kirishima felt his face heat up at the shirt he was wearing. It was a long-sleeved, tightly fitted black shirt. The hem of it ended just above his navel, and it accentuated the hell out of his figure. Kirishima thought it'd be unmanly to continue to stare any longer without at least striking up a conversation. He got up and walked to the counter Bakugou leaned on pouring water into a cup.

"Hey." He said, a little bit awkwardly to his taste.

"Hey." He responded softly without looking up. Katsuki was a lot more quiet and calmer when it was just the two of them. Yet strangely enough, he was more talkative. Those talks were more personal, and Kirishima loved every single on of them.

"You sleep well?"

"Yeah." He finally looked over, giving him a lopsided smile. Kirishima felt his stomach doing summersaults at the gesture. They began to talk, just talk about whatever came up in their heads. Little annoyances, stresses, and even random stuff on the internet.

Eventually, they began to walk slowly back to the living room. Kirishima didn't know what possessed him to be so bold, but he slipped an arm around Bakugou's shoulder. Surprisingly enough, the blonde didn't shove him off.

Bakugou was taken aback once the hand around his shoulder pulled him down to the carpeted floor, Kirishima following.

"Hey! The fuck are you doing?" The blonde exclaimed as Kirishima straddled him pulling his arms in his. Bakugou sputtered at the movement, and unable to keep the rising heat in his face at bay.

"Sorry but you're really asking for this." He chuckled in response, holding the blonde's hands to his chest.

"For what?" Bakugou asked, voice nearly above a whisper, and eyes transfixed on the other. The tone of voice shocked Kirishima.

"You know."

"What are you doing?" Bakugou whispered, ends of his lips turning into a smile.

"Well," he laughed breathlessly, securing the blonde's hands, pining with the left -hardened- hand, on his own chest, "I wanted to know this for a while now." He got closer to Bakugou's face, seeing his cheeks reddening, and his heart racing beneath the hands placed.

"And what's that?" Katsuki felt himself get a bit giddy, he wasn't the only one.

"Are you ticklish?" Kirishima saw confusion quickly cross over his face.

"Wait wha- BWAHAHAHA!" Bakugou exploded with laughter. Unable to react properly, the immediate and unexpected sensations drilling at his ribs drove him up the wall. He leaned to the left, where his ribs were being attacked, kicking blindly behind the redhead on top. "WHAHA-WHAT ARE YOU DOHOAHAHA!!"

"Damn dude, I wasn't expecting you to be this ticklish." Kirishima chuckled fondly, switching his hand to the right side of the hysterical boy's ribs.

Although there was extreme satisfaction with finding out Bakugou was ticklish, he was more focused on his face. Bakugou had his head back, lost in the overwhelming feeling. His eyes were screwed shut, his nose was scrunched adorably, and his mouth was wide with laughter pouring out. It was such a pure and sweet smile you wouldn't expect from him.

"Kirishihimahahaha...." He giggled as Ejiro poked and lightly scratched at his ribs. His body rolling side to side, at a halfhearted attempt to shake him off. He noticed that Bakugou could have shoved him off at any moment now, but he didn't.

"Yes?"

"Mhmhmpfft- hahaha!" He giggled heavily as Kirishima scratched his nails at the blonde's bare sides. He did a funny dance, wiggling like a worm. "You ahahass!!"

"You're not stopping me." Kirishima pointed out, watching his face get unbelievably more red. He used his index finger nail to slowly scratch up and down the side of Bakugou's stomach. The blonde underneath buck hard and shriek; a wave of light laughter following. "Pretty bad here, huh?" He teased.

"Shuhut- AAHAAGH NOHOHOHO!" The blonde practically screaming with uncontrollable laughter; Kirishima generally drilling his thumb at the side of his stomach. He began to squirm heavily; bucking and screaming. "NOT THEHAHAHAHA!! YOU BAHAHASTAHAHAHAH!" He also started to tug a bit at his trapped hands.

"Alright, I'll be nice." Kirishima chuckled. He stopped, placing his palm on top of the shaking abdomen, nearly bursting out in laughter at the fact it caused Bakugou to giggle. Giggle! He never thought Bakugou was capable of such a cute giggle. "Okay," he cleared his throat, "it's kinda obvious you don't want me to stop. Which is cute, really, but I want the clear to continue."

Below him, Bakugou was catching up with his breath, the red remaining on his cheeks.

"Want me to continue?" Kirishima asked calmy, he got a bashful mumble I'm response. "I need a clear answer."

"Do whatever." He grumbled, looking to the side.

"You sure?" He clarified, he got a light nod. Kirishima just smiled warmly, "on it!" His hand twitched, causing the blond to jump.

He then scratched at the abdomen below in a featherlight manner. He was instantly rewarded with high-pitched giggles and squirming. He scribbled at random places on his stomach; the sides of it, the upper and lower part of his belly, and the center of his stomach that gave him the strongest reaction.

He then began to claw at the center of his belly, dragging out a surprised snort.

"Oh my god, that was so fucking cute." Kirishima laughed, watching the blonde attempt to hide his face in the side of his shoulder, giggling.

"Wahahahihihit- nahahaHAHAHAHA YOU FAHAHAHAK!" He exclaimed when Kirishima began to put pressure on his taut stomach, he squealed then laughed the loudest Kirishima has ever heard. He wiggled his torso, the sensations spreading across his belly making his laughter go at a higher pitch.

"SHITSHITSHIT- AHAHAHAH YOUHUHU ASSHOHOHOHOLE!"

Kirishima could help himself but laugh along with the contagious laughter, especially feeling knees on his back; Bakugou trying to curl into himself. He shook his head back and forth, completely lost in laughter. Kirishima switched it up, going back to light tickling. He stroked one finger at the center of the boy's stomach, making him let out the cutest strangled squeal.

It suddenly stopped, some residential giggles slipping out. He hesitantly looked up at Kirishima who had a mischievous glint to his eyes.

"One more thing I wanna try." He said looking at an expectant and giddy Bakugou, who looked ready to burst into laughter at any second.

He lowered his hand down, spidering above the spiked-blonde's stomach. Much to his amusement, he sucked in his stomach and began to giggle softly.

"I'm not even touching you!" He giggled teasingly, making a mental note to how his tease made him giggle harder. He kept tickling the air above the shaking belly below, the string of giggles never ending.

"Stohohop teahahasing me you fuhuhuhuck!"

"Alright."

Nothing prepared Bakugou for Kirishima to sneak a finger in his navel.

"AAAAAGHAAHA!" He thrashed so harshly, he nearly threw Kirishima off him. The boy in hysterics arched his back; it only succeeded with making it easier for Kirishima to wiggle his finger in the extremely ticklish spot a little more. He reacted harshly.

He was screaming more than laughing; his head thrown back, unable to cope with the harsh tingling feeling that tickled him so intensely inside out. It tickled so, so bad. "I CAHAHAAN'T I CAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

His mind melted, in a daze as he couldn't focused on anything besides him reeling over how much it tickled. He went limp, and allowing himself to just laugh and laugh and laugh.

"This is your tickle spot, isn't it? Holy shit man, you have to be one of the most ticklish person I've ever met." He gave him a break once his laughter quickly got silent. He just tapped around the edges of his belly button, it was still enough for him to laugh. "Wow, you're, like, super ticklish."

"Hehehe! Shut uhuhuhup!!" He let out a near ear-piercing screech when Kirishima tapped at his navel. "Pleahahahahase nohoho!" He was squealing as Kirishima continued, "I'm toouhuahahaha- I'm too ticklihihihish thereahahahaha!!"

"At least you admitted it." He chuckled, letting up. He let go of Bakugou's hands, letting him catch his breath, little titters and giggles slipping out here and there. "That was the cutest shit I've ever seen."

"Ahaha... Gohohod... The hell was that?"

"What?"

"You getting up in my face like that." Bakugou almost mumbled.

"I think you're cute." That statement made Bakugou look up at him shocked, yet skeptical.

"Yeah fucking right."

"It's true!" He added by pinching up and down Bakugou's sides, making him jump and laugh harshly. He grabbed at his wrist.

"Kirihihihi!" He wined. He hiccuped, staring at the redhead incredulously.

"I like you." He blurred out. "Like a lot."

"I guess that's one way to tell me." He laughed breathlessly, panting from his earlier laugh-fest.

"Shit I-", he stopped himself, wiping his hands across his face, "I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have done that I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what got over me, and-"

He was interrupted by Bakugou pulling him down for a kiss.

"I wouldn't have let you do shit if I didn't like you dumbass."

"Oh..." He smiled.

It was a good fucking day.

#mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou #kirishima #bnha #bakugou x kirishima #kinda blatant #tickle fic #ticklish!bakugou #lee!bakugou #kirishima is kinda a simp #but respectful becaus he is manly #fluff

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superhappyyellowrainbowsmoo-blog · 3 years

Text

Part One - The Meeting

Hey people, just a random type thing, not sure what to call it of an AU of sorts, kinda the same kinda different. I suppose you could call it FanFiction, hope you enjoy :) Is Kinda Long...

YOU wake up, your vision blurred but there's something in your view - a man, you think but he's covered up in a cloak. He moans painfully yet happy. He stinks of fish.

YOU - Err... hey there.

Cloaked Man - He-Hello...

YOU go to offer your hand than see that they are both bound by a metal clasp.

Despite that, the Cloaked Man happily takes both your hands and shakes them. He is all giddy as if a kid just been offered sugar.

YOU can't help but to smile at him. He's grotesque and hard to stomach. the stench burnt the hairs inside your nose but, there was something wholesome about him.

Suddenly, a hand grabs around your throat, amazingly hoisting you up clean off the floor. You gag out of shock as you're forced face to face with a tall, pale lady. Her golden eyes burning into yours. In her other hand was a cigarette attached to a long pipe.

YOU blink. Your features suddenly relax. By God, she's gorgeous.

YOU - Hello, Princess.

The woman tuts in disgust and looks beyond you, to the cloaked man.

Tall Lady - Moreau, it'll do you good NOT to make friends with the prisoner.

Moreau - But it would had been rude not too...

Tall Lady - Rude? You are a lord for Miranda's sake! *She turns to you, her grip tightening around your neck* Such outsiders need to learn a lesson that they just cannot simply wander about OUR village, thinking it's OK. It'll be a VERY painful experience indeed.

YOU - *Between wheezes* Joke's on you, I am having a good time...!

The Tall Lady scrunches up her nose in disgust and throws you to the floor.

YOU, despite the pain, manage to get yourself up right, your side aches but your heart aches more for her.

YOU - Wow, at least take me to dinner before you slam me, Princess...

The Tall Lady's eyes grow wide and near snarls at you.

The Tall Lady - Just exactly what kind of muck did Heisenberg drag in here?!

Male Voice - Do my ears burn?

YOU look, a man, this one human, walks in with a large hammer draped across his shoulders, you wonder how he manages to walk around with it at such ease.

Tall Lady - Heisenberg, what is the meaning of this sudden meeting?

Heisenberg - Later, when everyone has arrived.

As YOU shift a little, really wanting to rub away the pain in your shoulder. Moreau catches this and begins soothing it.

Tall Lady - Moreau! Get away, now!

The deformed man whimpers a little and scuttles away into a corner. YOU feel bad, almost protective but you keep that to yourself.

Tall Lady - This better be worth my time.

Heisenberg - I am sure your playthings can wait for their mistress to return!

YOU - So, you're not single?

Both of them snap their necks to you. The Tall Lady once again looking disgusted, the man almost laughing.

Heisenberg - Trust me, this is a flower you don't want to pick.

The Tall Lady remains silent, she gives you a quick hateful side-eye before twirling her body and walking over to her large chair. She fiddles with her pipe between her teeth, taking a drag.

Moreau stays obedient in the corner, he's shaking.

Heisenberg looks YOU up and down, his eyes hidden under his shades.

He makes you feel awkward, especially as he smiles at you.

YOU - Can I help you?

Heisenberg - You need to be quiet.

YOU - You need a wash.

The Tall Lady toots a small giggle through her nose.

Heisenberg's features tighten.

Tall Lady - Well, the muck speaks some truth, little brother.

Heisenberg shifts over to his seat, both man and woman look at one another in a silent battle of stares. The Tall Lady takes another puff from her pipe, this time a long one, expelling it out slowly in the direction of the man.

Before things get too awkward, YOU here tiny foot steps from behind... in a second you're jumped upon by a loud, giggling... doll?

Doll - WhatDoWeHaveHere??? HAHAHA... FreshMeat! FRESHMEAT!

YOU squirm and wriggled the Doll off you, it falls to the floor with a thud. At the end of the room, beside Moreau, YOU see what you think is a woman, her face is cloaked and wearing a long black dress, sit down. YOU frown at her.

YOU - Excuse me, is this yours? Is this your toy?

The Cloaked Woman just sits there is silence. Even though her face is hidden, it's obvious she is looking at YOU.

YOU - I know you can hear me, do not pretend you don't!

The Doll continues to giggle, it gets up to its feet, brushes down their dress and races over to the sat down woman.

YOU - Can't talk? Something wrong with your face. Your voice? You got bad eyesight?

In a flash, the Tall Lady gets up with a hiss. Her fingers spit out five lengthy claws.

YOU put up your hands.

YOU - Sorry, sorry... but does she?

Heisenberg laughs into his hand.

The Tall Lady stares at you, her eyes flaring up, almost illuminous.

A Voice - What is going on here? Heisenberg, you go too far, requesting such a meeting.

All heads turn to face a third woman covered in feathers.

The Tall Lady sits back down.

Moreau gets a little excited, mumbling happily.

Heisenberg gets up.

Heisenberg - Mother Miranda, I have found you your champion.

YOU tilt your head. Champion?

The Doll gasps.

Moreau mumbles something.

Mother Miranda - How do you know they are the one?

Heisenberg - I am just sure, a lone wonderer into the Village?

Tall Lady - Ugh, this again? Mother Miranda, I hope you will not waste your time on such fairy tales!

Heisenberg - Would you not take the risk?

Tall Lady - I'd rather not waste my time.

Heisenberg - Waste your time? For no longer needing to eat human flesh to survive?! We will be unstoppable!

Tall Lady - We already are...

Mother Miranda - Heisenberg. You call upon this meeting without any true reason or rhyme, other than to gather up hopes.

The woman sounds disappointed. Scolding the man.

Heisenberg - Let me prove it. Give them to me, I'll train them up, ready for the Blue Moon.

Tall Lady - Mother Miranda, listen to me. Heisenberg is simply having you on. This... MUCK is nothing more than a mere mortal, showing us nothing more than running their pathetic little mouth. Give them to me, I will show them what happens to those who get too close.

YOU - Hmm, alright...

YOU wink at the tall lady.

The woman, Mother Miranda keeps her eyes on you. There is something about her, it's unsettling compared to the others, like a dark aura about her.

Mother Miranda - Heisenberg, I will take you up on your offer, however, I will not allow you to train them. If they are the Champion, they would not need the training, Alcina...

YOU - Oh, she has a name. *YOU smile to the Tall Lady*

Mother Miranda - They will be put into your care for the time being. But no harm will come to them.

Alcina - Understood, Mother Miranda.

Mother Miranda - And you mortal, you have until the Blue Moon, you either prove yourself or you die. We'll soon see if you're a champion or a fool.

YOU - Says the woman dressed as a chicken...

Alcina launches herself back up and this time she boots YOU in the face, YOU are out cold.

YOU wake up in a room, it's fancy. A fire burning in the right corner. Your head throbs, you try to rub it but you find yourself covered in ropes. YOU can't move.

YOU - Come on...

Alcina - Awake at last...

She sits at the end of the room, sipping from a red chalice.

There are giggles, YOU look around and notice three other woman in the room, blood around their mouths. The creep in closer, carrying sickles.

Alcina - Now, now, Daughters. Do not harm our guest.

Alcina picks herself up from her chair, putting down her cup and sways herself over to YOU. She smiles.

Alcina - However, I am sure Mother Miranda would not begrudge me a taste.

YOU feel your cheeks warm up.

Alcina lifts her arms. The three women, her daughters hoist up your bound body, the moment you get to your feet. The Tall Lady launches a single claw from her forefinger and scraps it across your shoulder. She digs in a little deep, it feels like a pinch.

YOU - Hey!

Alcina dives in, licking the fresh wound then begins to suck. No teeth involved.

YOU eyes widen feeling the woman massage your shoulder with her lips. It tickles but you swallow the need to giggle.

YOU - Well, you're forgiven for kicking me in the face....

She parts, fresh blood on her lips. One of the daughters present her a white napkin.

Alcina - Hmm, such a shame I cannot kill you now. You taste divine.

Alcina looks you in the eye, her single claw strokes under your chin.

Daughter #1 - Let me have a taste!

Daughter #2 - I want to have a go!

Daughter #3 - I want a leg.

Alcina - Control yourselves, daughters. I am sure this one won't be living up to anything...

Alcina gets down to your level once more, she giggles and then proceeds to wrap the napkin around your mouth, she knots it tight.

Alcina - That'll keep you in check before I come back. Enjoy your stay at Castle Dimitrescu.

The Tall Lady gets up, you sit there helpless as she spins ever so elegantly and walks out of the room, having to bend down so not to hit her head on the doorframe.

The daughters snap their teeth at you before leaving themselves.

YOU're left there, tied up and helpless...

YOU - Mmmph... *Shit*

#Resident Evil Village #Resident evil 8 #RE8 #alcina dimitrescu #angie doll #moreau salvatore #karl heisenberg #Donna Beneviento #mother miranda #lady dimitrescu

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sohin-ace · 3 years

Text

Mista - By the Silvery Moon

Werewolf Mista and his vampire girlfriend.

I wanted some soft spice so I made my own food.

You laid peacefully upon your boyfriend on his bed, bodies pressing deliciously against each other with the odd feeling of your temperature difference.

Somehow, never was it unpleasant for you to snuggle on the overbearing warmth of your favourite wolf and neither was it for him to feel the ice of your skin, refreshing on his furry skin.

It was basically a routine by now. You both could only see each other at night time, and Mista was busy as ever. Loyal as he was to his team he always did his best to be present for them at all times, even though it meant not having as much quality time to spend with his lovely girlfriend as he would like.

Tonight was one of those rare nights. He laid lazily on his bed and you would always come lay on top of him, showering him with affection and his most favourite belly rubs and head pats.

You both stayed in comfortable silence. Sometimes, you'd strike some casual mindless conversations, and it was those small moments that made your nights together so precious. Just being close to each other, regardless of species.

In the mondane vampire society that you belonged in, you'd be damned to not marry a man of your rank and class, and Mista would be equally damned to not mate with a proper omega from his own pack. But both of you couldn't care less for these old out-dated traditions. Nobody hardly followed those strict rules anyways nowadays, except for the most conservative of people.

Who cared if a vampire girl and a werewolf boy had fallen in love? Who would even stop you? You found each other and nothing could ever change that.

You were laying your head on Mista's broad chest and caressed the bits of skin on his exposed stomach, making the male shudder delightfully as he held your small frame flush against him.

He never got tired of rubbing your cold back, wondering how you could live with such skin of ice. He also never got tired of touching your hair, the scent of you even more prominent in it, driving him absolutely crazy.

You carefully lifted yourself up to stare at your lover who looked blankly up into nothing in particular on the ceiling, but instantly shot you a lazy and handsome smile as your eyes met. Gosh, he was so cute.

"Hello beautiful." He playfully called out and you grinned at his uncalled spontaneous cheesiness.

"Hi sexy~" You giggled and you could feel his torso spasm under you with his deep chuckle.

You moved to climb up just enough to get impossibly closer to his face and he let you do as you pleased, spreading his legs wider to ease your access and loosening his strong grip around you.

You looked over him with a fondness that was reserved for him only, and he knew there was nothing else in this eternal world of yours that you looked at with the same adoration in your eyes.

"Woah..." He breathed out through a lopsided grin "Girl, your eyes always make me feel some kind of way, dang... Shooting fucking bullets with those red eyes, somebody arrest you before you kill someone!"

"Oh shush, pup." You teased at his dorkiness and booped his nose. He hated it when you treated him submissively, but he never stopped you either.

"Hey, don't call me that! You freaky bloodsucker." He glared at you.

Ignoring his thoughtless offense you made yourself more comfortable on him, your personal mattress for the night, and proceeded to smooth your hands over his 3-days beard, caressing his cheeks and admiring his chiseled face.

You did remember Bucciarati convincing him to shave more often because of how fast Mista's facial hair grew. Funny advice coming from a Mothman who was half covered in fluff himself.

You had to resist the urge to peck Mista's very inviting lips as you hovered over him, propping yourself on your elbows at each side of his head. As sweet as you looked and as cute as you were in his eyes, the poor werewolf could not be immune to your intimidating and pressuring natural vampiric aura.

It was always a blurry thing, the natural hierarchy of monsters and humans. People fought everyday to make this unfair discrimination and hierarchy disappear, but no one could deny the strong overpowering aura some species had over others without even controlling it. Vampires, demons, sirens, titans among many others. Species that could make anyone else falter underneath them with just one look, one word, one step.

He trusted you with absolution to never do him harm and he was confident in his physical strength and power to counter anything, but truly, the intoxicating anxiety your glowy red eyes could put him through sometimes, prompting him to sweat and tightening his throat...

That was hot as hell.

"Come on..." He murmured more to himself than to you, but seeing his hungry gaze on your blood red lips so close to his, it was more than obvious what he wanted from you.

And you obliged. First, pecking his lips in a million tiny blooming kisses, almost too cutely for his own likings. Your sugary little smooches way too innocent for his current needs.

Fortunately for him, you were quick to catch on, or maybe it was on purpose that you teased him, he couldn't guess. Your shy fluttering pecks soon turned much longer, slower and more languorous with time, much to Mista's appreciation.

He couldn't help his big clawed hands from roaming along your back, eager to having you pressed even harder against him if that was possible, never getting enough of you.

Mista was the vocal type. You knew it wouldn't be long until he started making noises that would either alert the neighbours, or alert the most sensitive bugfolks that would most likely come check the commotion and maybe try to bask in some nice lamp light too while they were at it.

So, before he could ask for more, which he was eagerly expecting, you moved your lips to kiss along the corner of his mouth, to his prickly cheeks, then traveled down to his jaw and neck.

He released a low and animalistic growl at your defiance and lack of cooperation.

"... What do you think you're doing?" He asked lowly, his voice deep and gruff as you showered his neck with some sweet loving.

"Nothing," you muffled against his skin and he shivered from your cold lips and breath on his sensitive skin as you sighed, "You smell so good..."

"You... You wanted blood?" He scoffed and clicked his tongue, "You could have just asked... You damn vampires..." Mista did not hide his disappointment, thinking you'd initiate in some hot make out session only to stop cruelly and feed on him.

That wasn't the case though. You didn't like to use your boyfriend for blood, and surely, it wasn't a procedure you took lightly either.

There were plenty of volunteers for that service anyways, and you preferred the person be both physically and mentally ready for you rather than just randomly partake in some unrequited violent neck biting. You wouldn't waste the short and precious moments with Mista on such trivial and unnecessary reasons.

"No, no, I don't want to draw blood from you. I don't need it, I'll just satisfy myself with your scent." You buried your face deeper into him, taking in the smell of his blood, coming strong, fresh and vibrant under his tan skin of musk. "Plus I wouldn't dare bite you with no preparations. That's unfair."

"You're too cute." Mista snorted and wrapped his long and sturdy arms around you, squeezing you hard and lovingly.

Godamnit, he wanted to be mad at you but you were so adorable and sweet, he couldn't help but feel so lucky and privileged to have you. Not everyone could brag about having such a kind-hearted, hot and brilliant vampire girlfriend.

But he could.

"I love you princess. But really, you can take from me anytime you want. We've talked about this already, cara."

You moved to look back up at him, your gaze soft. "No, it's fine. Not now. For now I want to make the most of the little time we have together before the sunrise."

He laid his head back in contemplation. That was right. You'd have to go back home at least 30 minutes before dawn to prepare for bed without being in danger. Nights were too short and Mista's weeks of work were too long.

"My poor little babe will be blood deprived..." He cooed half jokingly and caressed your soft hair, sympathizing with your struggles.

"It's fine. I get less and less hungry when I smell your delicious, sweet virgin blood."

"Vi-.... VIRGIN?!" He shot up, almost shaking you up, "Who said I was a virgin?!"

You laughed at his outburst and his eyes were horrified and wide as saucers on you as you tried to calm your fit of laughter.

"Hehehe hahaha! I can smell it! It's so obvious! Please keep it that way, it tastes great too. Very nutritious and easy to digest~" You commented, giggling behind your hands.

The poor male blushed, unable to counter attack truthful and straight facts. "Nooo...." he whined, his wolf ears flattening down against his head in defeat.

"Don't be down, amorino." You cooed and gently caressed his face, "You know I'm just teasing~. Let me make it up to you."

And as you said that, you snaked your finger in his curly hair, slowly massaging his scalp and eliciting a groany sigh from the male. That was his biggest weakness, besides you, of course. Gentle head scritches. No werewolf could ever stay indifferent.

Just having your long nails rake so pleasurably along his scalp and dancing around and behind his wolf ears sent him to a pure state of bliss.

"A-ah, Y-Y/N... Aah thanks... Feels g-great hehe..."

"So polite. What a good boy."

Subconsciously, Mista's tail bonked loudly the side of the bed repeatedly with excitement, like a natural response to the praise.

It was cute, you thought, how much he could act like a puppy sometimes. Even though he hated to hear it from you, and rathered appear strong, dominant and protective for you, because he could be just that for you, and keep you safe.

You kissed him again and he instantly caged you back in his arms, planting his claws on your back and shoulders possessively. He was so crazy in love for you and the realization that he'd be gone for another long mission without seeing you hit him suddenly, which prompted him to tighten his legs around your hips and effectively emprisoning you with his limbs.

With his mind filled with thoughts of you only, and feeling your body pressed so delighfully against him, he kissed you even harder, giving you all his passion as he was getting drunk off your ministrations and intoxicating scent, both fruity and metallic.

"Hmph Guido..." You moaned on his lips and he could swear you did it on purpose. "Slow down."

"You're testing my limits babe, I don't like that."

"Hmm... It's 5 A.M." You whined softly between his insistant kisses and love bites.

"So what? I don't see your point. Let me have you." He mumbled huskily and you had to push him down to let yourself speak without interruption.

"I have to go, the sun is about to rise."

He groaned in annoyance and went limp under you, defeated. You chuckled at his reaction and propped yourself back on your hands as he released you.

"Fuck... Already? We barely did anything..." He huffed, beaten by time itself which was stealing his girlfriend away from him.

"We did a lot actually. I fed you, we played games, gossiped a bit and cuddled for like... 2 hours."

"We had a tickle fight too. Can't forget about my victory..." He proudly added before smirking, "... And your cute little noises."

"Shut up!" You slapped his arm as you sat up. Oh no, he was going to rub it in again, you knew it.

"Kyaaaah~ stop it! Guido not there aaaah~! AAAAAHHH~" He obnoxiously wailed and moaned exaggeratedly with an awful girly voice.

"SHUT UP! I didn't even say that! I don't even sound like that! You're gross!"

After a few more, well-deserved slaps from you and a fit of laughter from him, you eventually got off of the boy and fixed your clothes, walking away from the bed as he joined you.

"Aww but really babe," He wrapped his long arms around your waist from behind and buried his nose in your hair "I'll miss you..."

"It's okay sweetheart," You craned your neck and reached behind you to hold his face, "5 days fly by fast. And Bruno is kind, he'll give you a vacation if you ask him nicely."

Mista sighed, nuzzling into your hand and relishing in your soft hold. He was probably being dramatic in your eyes, acting like each day was the last one, but he wasn't completely wrong. His work field was more dangerous than he'd ever let you know, and even if you did know, he was well aware that you weren't even close to being afraid of death as he was. Vampires were immortal, after all, werewolves were not.

"Guido..." You called out, voice careful and airy.

"Hmm?"

"Don't be scared."

The male pulled away from you and stared at you with wide eyes. Scared? Was your kind really that sensitive to other's emotions?

His heart raced and he stuttered. "Huh? What- How did you-"

"I can smell it Guido, your hormones are strong." You turned to face him and grabbed his huge clawed hands in your ice cold ones, looking tenderly into his eyes. "You know I would never let you die."

Mista gulped. You knew. Of course you'd have guessed, you were so perceptive. He was dense to believe he could hide anything from you. There was nothing he could say when you read him like an open book and pinned him into place with your confident stance and fierce eyes.

"I..." He huffed heavily, avoiding your gaze "I can never be sure, Y/N. I didn't tell you everything about my work...."

"I know." You brought his hands up to your face and pressed a gentle kiss on his knuckles, his fur soft against your lips. "But don't forget my abilities. I'll turn you into a vampire without hesitation if anything were to happen. If I'm not here, Giorno will do it, we've already established this."

Mista's eyes widened at this revelation. You talked with Giorno? Even though the blonde was only half-vampire, he did have strong healing abilities, but the werewolf wouldn't have expected the vampires would ever work together to actually revive any of the team members in worst case scenarios. Thinking about it, it may even have been Bruno's idea.

Mista scoffed, unbelieving. "You sly bastards... You guys know the implications of turning people into hybrids, right?"

"I don't care. I want you safe and to stop worrying." You smiled and pulled him closer to you. "We'll talk about this later. Now kiss me."

Pushing his worry and melancholy to the side, the male obeyed and bent down to capture your lips hungrily again, hugging you almost uncomfortably hard. Mista wasn't really one to hold back much, and only you could either handle him, or put him back to place.

"Get home safe babe. Call me when you arrive." He murmured, still craddling your face close and you matched his whispers.

"Will do. Sleep tight, cuore mio."

Not quite wanting to separate from each other, you hesitated to move and had to use all your willpower to actually start walking towards the window, Mista still holding your hand and following close behind.

He opened the window for you and helped you hop on the frame, the moonlight long gone to leave space for dawn.

You shot one last look to your lover and blew him a kiss, making him grin goofily, "Bye bye Guido."

"Love ya, Y/N."

And with those sweet words, you jumped out the window, only to transform into your bat form and flying off into the early morning sky, your presence and your scent still remaining in Mista's room, on his skin and on his clothes.

Certainly, he had nothing to worry about.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #writing #jojo #x reader #reader insert #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #mista x reader #guido mista x reader #guido mista #mista #werewolf mista #reader is a vampire #vampire reader #monster au #part 5 #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #golden wind

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terracottaalchemist · 4 years

Note

i love a lot of those prompts but what if you did 44 with Davekat 🥺🥺👉👈

Your wish is my command!

You're So Annoying

Pairing: Davekat

Prompt: 44: "I see you smiling...come on, laugh!"

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you can't believe that this is happening to you. Twice. Not only did you already spend three of your adolescent years on a meteor, hurling towards the boss fight of a lifetime, but here you are, a grown man, traveling through space again. And you have to admit, it is just as boring as you remember it being.

You look over your shoulder to see your beloved Karkat reading one of his raunchy romance novels. He gets so into them, you can't help but chuckle. And like the good matesprit/kismesis/ boyfriend you are, you decide to go fuck with him.

Fuck. You pause at the word. No, you mean bother him, not fuck him. Fuck with him. fuck.

You regain focus. His ears flick to pick up the sound of your socked feet padding across the bedroom, right to where he lays comfortably in his pile.

"Mind if I join you," you ask sweetly.

"Mmrrg, just don't move too much," he says without looking up.

You take that as the warm welcome it is and flop down, making sure to knock the book with your elbow a bit.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry dude." You bite down a grin, wiggle up to him, and toss your arm over his shoulders. Damn, you miss being taller than him, but not really. It's just a bit of a stretch, that's all. Karkat glances at you. You smile as big and obnoxiously as you can. He just chuckles and goes back to his book.

After a few minutes of you trying to read along, he jerks upright. Without a word, he grabs your wrist, pulls it down, and leans back. Your arm curls softly around his side now, and you tug him closer so it's more like a half-spoon. Hell yeah, you could get down with this.

Or not. Despite the affection, he's still ignoring you. Oh well, you try to keep yourself busy.

"Dave, stop trying to hum your shitty slam poetry. You're doing it directly into my ear, which, may I remind you, is hundreds of times more sensitive than yours."

"Dave, for fucks sake, beatboxing is just as bad!"

"Oh my- Dave I will make you sleep on the floor! I'm trying to read, just shut the bulge scraping fuck up!"

"Alright alright," you say. "I'm sorry." You wrap both arms around him, tucking your nose into his hair. He huffs, but he leans back into you. Hm...this is no good. Sure, you want to annoy him, but not if he's just going to not annoy you back! You feel his core tense under your hands as his eyebrows pinch, nearing the end of his chapter. He's so cute when he's reading.

And the clouds part to make way for your genius mind. Your brilliance is astounding. Why didn't you think of it earlier? You have a plan.

You slowly tuck your hands under the hem of his sweater and slide up to place them on his cute stomach. So cute. Karkat hums in shy approval. You wait patiently, rubbing small circles into his purring chest, until you can't wait any longer.

With an evil grin, you dig your fingers into his ribs, right below his sensitive grubscars.

"Da-AHA!" He yelps. His back arches forward, stretching his ribs out for you even more, before slamming back into your chest. He curls his limbs in like an armadillo, but his head stays thrown back, choking down laughter. You tease his soft sides, poking and fluttering your fingers across every inch. Karkat nearly bites his lip off, refusing to give you the satisfaction of getting his reaction.

"I see you smiling...come on, laugh!" You wrap around him even tighter, ticking up and down his stomach like you were born to do it.

"F- Fuuaahahaha! Fuck y-ouuhuhuhhmhmhm!" He tries to turn around and smack you, but he's trapped in your lap. Or, at least you think so. He's too ticklish to escape, plus you know he likes it.

"Dahahave, I'm waA- I'm waaharning yOUHU!" So loud. He squirms left, right, forward and back, trying to escape your grasp without loosing his page. He still won't pay attention to you? Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. With all the courage you can muster, you slam your hands into Karkat's armpits.

Or, at least you try.

See, before you could even switch tickle spots, Karkat throws his book to the floor, drags you out of his pile, and pins you to the floor by the wrists of your shirt. The troll strength in his gorgeous hands and arms holds you down, combined with his flustered, red face, makes your heart bounce. God, he's so beautiful when he's mad.

"Dave...fucking...Strider...." You wait for him to say more, but it doesn't look like he's going to, for once. With a deep, sexy growl, he tears the sleeves clean off your arms and carves his claws down the centre of your shirt. Karkat yanks the fabric from underneath you and throws it away.

"Aw man, I loved that one! You owe me a new shirt, babe."

"Don't you fucking babe me! I'll kill you!"

"Kinky," you say, as if you can't dig your own grave any faster. "Wanna let me up now? I won't tickle you anymore, let's just cuddle." You smile.

Karkat doesn't smile. He sneers. Suddenly, you feel very nervous about being under your very strong, very angry matesprit/kismesis/human boyfriend, in nothing but your pajama pants. With anime-villian red eyes and anime-villian shark teeth, you begin to realize the gravity of your situation.

"W..wait, Karkat. Um, I didn't- I," you stutter uselessly. Your hands shoot down to stop the claws raking up your sides, but he's just so strong. There's no stopping him, and you both know it. You whine, urging yourself to stay still. If you don't move, he won't see you. Right?

"You didn't what, Dave? Didn't think this through?" You close your eyes, but it just makes the sensations worse!

"Ah, haha- no! No no babe come on please I was just messing I didn't really mean it plus you like it I don't-"

"I sure as hell don't like it when I'm trying to read!" With that, he digs his fingers into your ribs the same way you did to his. Only this time, you howl. You twist and flail your arms, unsure how to fight back or escape. God it tickles so bad, it's torture.

"Nohoohohoo! No- naaaaahaha!" You squeal as he runs his terrifying teeth across your stomach, occasionally peeking his tongue out too join in. Suddenly, your entire body jolts as his hands drift down to squeeze at your sides. Your own hands are free to push weakly at his assault, as you gasp and squeal with every touch. A hot blush creeps up your neck.

"Who's laughing now, fucker? You are," Karkat teases, still nibbling your soft middle. Your laugh jumps up in pitch at his cruel words.

"Plehe- Hahahaha! P-plehehease!" You grab his wrists with all your strength, and he outright growls at you. His hands slide down to your worst spot, digging his thumbs in your hips with expert accuracy.

"AAAAHAHAHA! KAA- KAHARKAHA!" Screaming with laughter, you can't even beg for mercy. You nerves burst like fireworks as your body squirms further into Karkat's touch without your permission. You want to curl up, run away, but your body quivers uselessly at every touch.

"Shhh, don't attract any of the others," Karkat warns. Fortunately, Karkat is much to considerate to let that happen: his cute ears twist towards the door every few seconds, checking for footsteps. Unfortunately, that also means no one is coming to save you. He switches to scribbles and scratches all over your hips and waistline.

"Shihihihiiitt!"

"What's wrong, Dave?

"Aaaahahaha, I give I give i giAH! HAhaha-"

"You begging already?"

"Yes! Yes yehehehahahahh..ahaha..." You gasp for air. Karkat slowly stops. Giggles still pour out from the sensations, and your flinch from the touch of your own hands as you sooth them over your skin.

Karkat admires you with dreamy eyes. He moves his legs back so he can lay on top of you, lips inches from your own. You lean up to kiss him. His lips are soft, fitting perfectly with yours, making everything ok. Tucking your hands under his sweater again, you reach around to hold his lower back.

Another idea pops into your impulsive head. You would only have one chance to get it right, otherwise Karkat would just take the upperhand back again. And if you were to fail....

You grin. Against your better judgement, you pick a fight with your lovely kismesis. You wrap your legs around Karkat's waist as tight as you can, hold him with one arm, and tickle all over his ribs.

He barks, curling aways to protect his side. You fail to get past his arm once, twice, and it's too late. Your hands are glued to your sides between handsome thighs. God, you're so gay.

"Really, Dave? You must really want me to wreck you, huh."

"Aaaaa," you whine. Your face burns. "Don't...don't just, say it!"

"Say what?"

"You know..."

"I don't. Tell me."

You shiver. "No!"

"Say. It. Right now, or I won't tickle you. I'll go right back to my book-"

"No no nonono ok fine you win!" You glance at your shades perched on the nightstand, yearning for their protection under Karkat's gaze.

"Still not what I want to hear," he smirks, running his tongue over his teeth.

"Baaaaabe."

"One," he says.

"What?" You're confused.

"Two."

One, two...Oh god. He's counting!

"Thre-"

"Wait!! Wait wait wait! Ok. Um, so, I-" Your throat dries up, chest heavy. Karkat just watches you patiently, soaking up every detail of your face. "I like it when you, um. when you... when you tickle me..and I want..um, you, to.. I want you t- to...tickle, me. more," you babble. Karkat does not look very impressed. "Um. please?"

He taps his chin, tightening his legs around you again. You wiggle, hot with embarrassment. "I think you can do a little better than that."

"Nooooo!" This isn't fair. You open your mouth to protest, but you're distracted by his sudden hands on your chest. You can feel the edges of his claws, careful not to dig into your delicate, human skin.

"I'm waiting," Karkat says, pretending to be bored. He still may leave though.

"Sorry, ok. Um, please, Karkles." You take a deep breath. "P-please tickle me, babe. I need it."

His eyes widen, so you urge yourself to keep going: "I want you to..to tickle me until I can't breathe. I- I love it. Come on, Karkat. Please, please, please..."

You feel his body tense. His ears tilt down, turning a brighter shade of red to match both your faces. He just stares.

"Sorr-" His hand covers your mouth, cutting you off. He looks at you through his bangs, that look in his eyes that you didn't even know you had been craving.

"Just remember, you brought this on yourself."

You don't even have time to nod. His hands are all over you, making you scream loud enough for everyone onboard the damn ship to hear. As boring as space travel may be, you're glad that this time you have Karkat to keep you busy.

"I lohohove youuuu!"

"Oh I love too, Dave."

I hope this meets your expectations @edgy-and-extra !!

154 notes · View notes

ragewerthers · 4 years

Text

Sleepless Night

Summary: All Lan Zhan wanted was to enjoy a good nights rest. Sadly there is a beast lurking nearby and he won't get any rest until it gets what it wants.

A/n: This is a birthday fic for my friend @ticklygiggles! I wanted to write something fun for her and I have to say I enjoyed getting to write for these two again!

Hopefully it'll bring a smile to whomever reads it!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262945

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 2026

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

“... -angji…..,”

“....”

“... -angji?”

“....”

“Lan Zhan?”

“.... mn?”

“Ah! Lan Zhan! I knew you were awake!”

Blinking his eyes open, Lan Zhan was met with the smiling and far too cheerful face of his husband. His gaze slowly shifted over to the open window of their Jingshi, the moon still shining brightly in the sky and the sound of cicadas filling the night air.

“Wei Ying… you should be asleep,” Lan Zhan murmured, his voice a little deeper from having fallen asleep not that long ago if the position of the moon was anything to go by.

Pouting at his husband, Wei WuXian shook his head and scooted closer, pressing his nose right against his partners and watching as the action caused Lan Zhans ears to turn that beautiful shade of pink he loved so much.

“But you’re not asleep,” he mumbled, leaning back a little and reaching forward with one of his hands to soothe over the shirt his husband had worn to bed.

It was only through much patience and personal training that Lan Zhan was able to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “That is because you woke me up,” he tried to explain, but if Wei WuXian heard him he pretended not to.

“Isn’t it just a lovely night, Lan Zhan?” he continued, rolling onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. “I love nights like this. When things are quiet… and peaceful… and just… calm. Everyone leaves you alone and you can just think whatever thoughts you want. No one to bother you! Isn’t that nice, Lan Zhan? Don’t you just love these sorts of nights too? With no one ot bother you? Huh? Lan Zhan?” He turned his head, his smile beaming as he looked at his husband.

Lan Zhan blinked at his husband a few times, his eyes narrowing slightly before quickly flipping over and facing away from the man.

Wei WuXian gasped at the audacity!

“Lan Zhan! Why are you so cruel?! Here I am sharing my thoughts with you on this lovely and quiet night when we both are awake and unable to sleep and you turn away from me! How can you be so mean to your husband?!” he grumbled, scooting closer and closer until he was spooning against his husband's back, his face buried in between the man's shoulder blades. “I’m hurt! I’m wounded! My own husband refusing to enjoy our sleepless night together!”

This time Lan Wangji did roll his eyes, but without anyone to see it he could easily pretend he hadn’t done something so juvenile.

“Wei Ying…,”

“My tears will not be silenced!”

“Wei Ying….,”

“My heart will be forever burdened by this shame!”

“Wei…. Ying,”

“Why did you do this to m-..,”

“WEI YING!”

Wei WuXian squeaked in shock at hearing Lan Wangji raise his voice like that. He hid his face completely against his husband's back, one of his arms instantly wrapped around his middle as his fingers gripped at the front of Lan Zhan’s shirt.

Sadly, this meant that Wei WuXian had also managed to brush his fingers against Lan Wangji’s stomach, causing his husband to gasp and instantly curl forward.

Both men stilled for a moment as each realized what had happened.

Lan Zhan could actually feel the devious smile slowly appearing over his husband's face and he brought his hands down to wrap around Wei WuXians wrist as he felt his hand still resting over his stomach.

“Wei Ying… please… it is late and…,”

“My dear husband… have I ever told you of the most notorious night time beast?” Wei WuXian murmured, making Lan Zhan falter a moment.

This really wasn’t what he had been expecting as a conversation considering what had just happened and he turned his head slightly, trying to catch sight of his partner to try and figure out what he was doing.

“Wei Ying?” he asked curiously, his hands still holding onto the man's wrist.

“He likes to appear… on nights just like these,” Wei WuXian continued, his voice dropping lower and softer the more he spoke. “Oh yes. On nights like these… when you find it difficult to sleep, he likes to come. You never know when he will strike and even some of the strongest men have fallen to him.”

Was Wei Ying trying to tell him that this beast was the reason for him being awake? Was that why the man had tried to wake him up too? Because he felt this beast’s presence?

“Wei Ying… is it nearby?” he asked quietly, now trying to focus all of his senses to try and pick up the danger that his husband must’ve been feeling.

“Oh yes. I’m afraid he’s already here,” Wei WuXian whispered and Lan Zhan’s eyes widened. “And there will be no getting rid of it now… not until it gets what it wants.”

“And do you know what it wants?” Lan Zhan whispered back, feeling Wei WuXian move just a little closer to him, his breath ghosting right against the shell of his ear.

“I do… and what this monster wants more than anything… is your laughter.”

Lan Zhan’s worry instantly vanished at that and he turned his head once more, catching sight of his husband’s smiling face.

“My laughter?” he asked, his expression seeming to amuse his husband who only seemed to smile more. “What sort of monster wants my laughter?”

“Oh the best kind of monster, Lan Zhan,” Wei WuXian murmured softly, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before his fingers quickly scribbled against his husband's stomach.

“W-Wei Yihihing?!” Lan Zhan squeaked, instantly curling forward and trying to quiet the giggle that threatened to bubble up from his chest as the man's fingers continued to wriggle against his poor stomach.

“What? Haven’t you ever been visited by the tickle monster before, Lan Zhan?” Wei WuXian cooed softly, slipping his free hand under his husband to send light little nibbling pinches along his side.

“N-Nohohoho!” Lan Zhan yelped as he felt the other hand wriggling against his side, attempting to roll back toward Wei WuXian in the hopes he could push the man away! Sadly he was very, very mistaken!

As he rolled back, Wei WuXian easily shifted in response, allowing Lan Zhan to land on his back while he quickly moved to straddle his waist. With the momentary surprise he took Lan Zhans hands and pinned them under his knees, leaving his poor darling's torso all to himself.

“You haven’t? Well… then tonight is your lucky night!” he said cheerfully as his fingers gently rested on Lan Wangji’s sides, making him gasp softly. “You finally get to meet him… and he can’t wait to feast on your laughter!”

“Wait! Wait… Wei Ying I just want to sle-EEP!” Lan Wangji’s plea was interrupted by a little shriek as Wei Ying began to flutter his fingers up his sides. Lan Zhan instantly began to squirm, his lips fighting a smile as he tried to draw his arms closer to himself for protection.

“What’s this? You don’t want to give the tickle monster your sweet laughter?” Wei Ying cooed, his fingers moving up and up until they rested against Lan Zhans lower ribs. Slowly his thumbs began to massage against the sensitive bones there, making Lan Zhan snort and arch his back off the bed as the ticklish sensation started to urge his laughter closer to the surface..

“Nonono plehehehehehease! Stahahahap!” Lan Zhan pleaded, his battle to keep his giggles at bay lost as those horrible thumbs continued to vibrate just so against his lower ribs!

“There it is! Oh the tickle monster is so happy to hear his Lan Zhan laughing!” Wei Ying said brightly, moving his hands away for a moment and turning them into claws.

“No! Wei Ying! Don’t do thi-HAHAHA!” Lan Zhan’s giggles were completely surpassed as wild laughter instantly erupted from him. Wei WuXian had gone for his worst spot, his fingers vibrating quickly all over his poor stomach and leaving the great Hangaung-Jun in hysterics! “NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! NOHO-AHAHAHA!”

“Oh but this is the best spot, Wangji! Listen to that perfect laughter! The tickle monster is quite pleased!” Wei WuXian teased as he scribbled his fingers to the sides of Lan Zhan’s poor stomach, tickling against the super sensitive areas and causing his poor husband to buck and giggle hysterically beneath him. Deciding to be a little extra devious he snuck his fingers under his husband's shirt. As soon as his fingers touched the warm bare skin, Lan Zhan snorted, his face going pink at making such a sound even as more laughter bubbled up from his chest.

“Wei Yihihing! Don’t eheheven thihink a-about ihiHIHIT! STAHAHAP!” Poor Lan Zhan didn’t even get a chance to finish his warning as those evil fingers began to lightly flutter and scribble against his bare skin, making him shimmy back and forth to try and stop the ticklish feeling zipping through his body!

“Don’t tell me to stop! This is all the tickle monsters fault! I tried to warn you, Lan Zhan! Now you have to pay his price!” Wei WuXian teased as he continued to lovingly torment his poor husband's tummy. His fingertips swirled and scribbled lightly over his stomach, finding the spots that made him giggle, the spots that made him snort and the combination of spots that sent his husband arching up into the touch and laughing so hard tears of mirth clung to his eyelashes.

“I think the tickle monster has almost had his fill, Lan Zhan! He’s just looking for some dessert… and do you know what tickle monsters love for dessert?” he asked, letting one of his fingers trace around his poor Lan Zhan’s belly button and making the man giggle and hiccup adorably.

Lan Zhan shook his head at the question, giggling ridiculously with each touch and flutter of his husband's fingers against him. “I… I d-don’t knahahahaow!” he giggled harder at the end, bucking up once more as Wei Ying’s finger wiggling into his belly button for a few seconds before he felt the man leaning over him and pausing his attack. Lan Zhan took the moment to catch his breath, panting as residual giggles still managed to sneak past his lips.

“Why… raspberries, of course!” Wei Ying cooed before ducking down and blowing a few of those horrible raspberries against the side of his neck.

Lan Zhan positively squealed at the sensation before falling into another fit of laughter, his shoulders attempting to shrug up to protect himself, but to no avail! There was just no getting away from his tickle monster husband and all he could do was lay there at his mercy.

Luckily, it was only after a few of these that his husband seemed to finally relent and Lan Zhan soon felt warm kisses replace the horrible raspberries on his neck. And soon his giggles slowly started to calm.

“Y-you… ahahare horrible,” Lan Wangji murmured tiredly, though as Wei WuXian finally moved to lay beside him he was quick to draw his trickster husband closer, hiding against him and feeling the way Wei Ying giggled at his clinginess.

“I think you mean the tickle monster is horrible… though you don’t seem too upset, Er Gege,” Wei Ying murmured softly, allowing his strong husband to hide against his chest, his hand coming up to soothe through his long, dark hair.

“Mn..,” Lan Zhan murmured quietly, his eyes already closing from the mixture of laughing so much and the feeling of Wei Yings fingers in his hair.

“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan. You’re safe now. Your tickle monster is content,” Wei WuXian murmured though by the sound of his husband's steady breathing he doubted that he had heard him. Smiling gently, Wei WuXian ducked down, pressing a soft kiss to his Lan Zhan’s brow as he yawned and finally settled down as well.

“Goodnight, Lan Zhan,” he whispered softly, feeling strong arms give him a little squeeze around his waist.

“Goodnight… my monster,” Lan Zhan whispered back and finally… finally Lan Zhan was able to get the sleep he had longed for. Now that this nighttime beast had been satiated.

#wwx #lwj #mdzs #tickle fic #my fics #fluff #Lan Zhan #Wei WuXian

63 notes · View notes

our-wargame · 4 years

Text

take three steps to your left; take me with me you [2/2]

Read Part 1

summary: Takahiro’s not sure why but he hates it when people get Matsukawa wrong. And they always seem to.

tags: rated t, pining, dialogue heavy now because oi-matsu-hana are three drunkards, maybe a part three from Matsukawa’s take?, dw matsukawa shows up yay, hanamaki/oikawa friendship and iwaizumi is yay

notes: the first chapter was supposed to just be that, just a short take on possible matsuhana relations, but then i decided why not make it a fic yknow. although part 1′s a good standalone!! this one’s much less serious but yeah! if you happen to reblog my work, i will most likely read your tags and then die of joy.

as always, ao3 link

Last chapter:

“Oh we forgot something,” Oikawa says, and this time there’s thoughtfulness sharpening the eyes sweeping over Takahiro. “We forgot about the part where you’re in love with him.”

Takahiro freezes.

Before Takahiro knows it, his arm is out. Is it really his fault though? It’s not like this was a first-degree planned nose-grabbing. One second Oikawa is saying some bull; and the another, Oikawa’s nose is just...in Takahiro’s crab-claw. His heart’s pounding a little faster than usual, but it’s Gucci.

“Makki! That hurts my conker!.” Oikawa squirms into a sitting position and then scoots his ass back, pretty much over Takahiro’s lap to prevent his nose from getting torn off.

“Nice conk bro.”

When Oikawa wrinkles his nose, Takahiro lets go. He keeps wiggling it, exercising it with ugly ogre faces and complaining he can’t smell Takahiro’s teen reek or something like that.

“Hey, I’ve seen you looking at Iwaizumi after practice.” Takahiro shakes his head. “Just because he’s all sweaty-”

“That’s not-!” Oikawa jumps up, yelling. “He’s not-! You can’t just say-”

Takahiro laughs. Three years of friendship have given Oikawa neural damage, a better poker face, and a properly tainted sense of humor, but specially made mentions of Iwaizumi Hajime still sends him into a loud, quacky fluster.

“You know,” he says casually, comfortably stretching, splaying his arms out over the couch. “I’ve caught him staring back at you.” Leaving a soft pause for the atmosphere shift, Takahiro tilts his head to the side with a small, lopsided grin and waits.

Yes, he expects Oikawa to melt. Instead, Oikawa lets out a small sigh and plunks back down beside Takahiro. His gaze shifts from ground to ceiling and back again. A tiny, hard pit plunks into Takahiro’s stomach. Apprehension. He’s about to joke about how he never makes Oikawa wait this long when he’s teasing him, but the noise that comes out is a sad sort of wheeze that he ends up trying to pass off as a cough.

At last, Oikawa pursues his lips. Takahiro’s given him an opening and he’s taking it. “Makki. You’re in love with Mattsukawa-”

Takahiro’s breath hitches.

“And he’s in love with you.” Oikawa skewers him with his gaze, captain to one of his men, like they’re in one last match. “So. How about you save us spectators the time and-”

Never Gonna Give You Up rings shrilly through the air.

Oikawa’s mouth drops open. Takahiro he lunges for his phone. “Matsukawa,” he reads off the screen like they hadn’t both known from the ringtone.

“Huh. Well.” hums Oikawa. “I need to take a piss.” And he flounces off the couch with that.

Takahiro flexes his fingers, nails digging into his palm. They’re too long again, he thinks, drawing a long inhale. He’s not...he’s not nervous about taking a call from his best friend.

Of course he’s nervous. After what Oikawa tried to imply-

He presses the phone against his ear. “Go for Makki.”

“Yes, hello, I would like some chikky nuggies.”

“Sorry, sir.” Takahiro yawns into the receiver. And into Matsukawa’s ear. “We’re all out. Does that make you hangry?”

“Little bit.” Matsukawa’s low voice sounds rougher than normal, like he’s got something caught in his throat or taken a pinch of Iwaizumi’s gruff soul. The line crackles. “What say you make it up to me?”

“Mmm? What’d you have in mind?” In his peripheral, he notices Oikawa stalking over here with a shit-eating grin Takahiro’s more familiar seeing on Matsukawa’s face.

“The usual. Pick you up in four?”

“Yeah.” Takahiro says, partially distracted with batting at Oikawa. He’s not going to give captain the opportunity to say something ridiculous like...stop flirting Makki! For one, they’re not flirting. And for another, Takahiro makes fun of Oikawa; the teasing in their relationship is strictly one way. To Matsukawa, he says “Wait.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m at Oikawa’s. It’s not rude if I tell him we don’t want him hanging out with us if I say it to his face, right?”

Oikawa leans over and gets his hands on Takahiro’s phone. He might be unable to rip it out of Takahiro’s grip,but he can, and does, bring his head down to yowl, “Fine! Enjoy your date without me!”

Oikawa’s going to die soon and it’s a shame Takahiro will be too busy disposing the evidence to attend the funeral.

“Okay make that five minutes. Also. Forgot to mention,” Matsukawa says, smooth as ever. “Iwaizumi’s sleeping over for the night. If you guys want, I guess we could make it a foursome.”

“Dude, don’t be gross.” Takahiro grumbles. “That’s almost as yucky as thinking about how Oikawa spends the entire time oogling Iwaizumi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Oikawa huffs. “Oikawa-sama likes Iwa-chan, Oikawa-sama likes Iwa-chan without a shirt on! Everyone knows and all they do is bully Oikawa-sama about it!” Oikawa finally pauses to breathe. “Also, Makki says we’ll be there. And he says he wants to be sleeping with you guys tonight.”

“Cool. Gross but cool.”

“Yeah, great.” Takahiro says as flatly as he can muster. “Mattsun, hurry up and rescue me from the crazy man?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Static crackles over the line. Matsukawa’s probably has the phone awkwardly caught between his shoulder and ear, to free his hands. “See you soon, yeah?”

Takahiro opens his mouth. And closes it abruptly.

It’s nothing new, Matsukawa waiting for Takahiro to sign off. Matsukawa knows Takahiro hates feeling burdensome. Matsukawa always lets Takahiro end the call, no matter how silly they start out to be. It’s nothing new, but it’s one of Takahiro’s many preferences that Matsukawa just never forgets. It’s nothing new, but for someone infuriatingly attached to simplicity, Matsukawa sure goes out of his way a lot for Takahiro.

“Makki?”

“Yeah.” Takahiro bites himself in the tongue. “See you soon.”

He jabs the end call button before he can do anything else. When he catches Oikawa’s mouth twisting he asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” Oikawa says, straight faced. And then when he can’t help himself, he wears a dopey grin.“Y’all are just so fucking cute.”

Takahiro rolls his eyes, even as a slow heat creeps up his neck. He gathers his things and gives Oikawa a quick hug before making for the door. Then he delivers a swift kick to the ass when captain makes the mistake of showing his back.

“Makki!”

“See you tonight!” he shouts, dashing out the door and right into his getaway man.

“Ow,” Matsukawa drawls, standing in a casual gray set of t-shirt and pants. He’s flexing his jaw because Takahiro friggen headbutted him. “I know you missed me but tone down the Iwaizumi-affection.”

Takahiro hardly thinks twice before snagging him by the wrist and hightailing them both away from the danger zone. “Stop slowing me down,” he chokes, and Matsukawa laughs. They almost make it.

“Oi!” Takahiro scowls, whirling around. “You asshat, Crocs only!” He snatches up the sneaker from where it’d bounced off his back and flings it at its owner.

“That hurt, Makki!! My ass and my feelings!!”

“Yeah, yeah. Catch you later, captain.”

Matsukawa snickers and Takahiro elbows him in the ribs as they walk down Oikawa’s driveway. “You were absolutely no help, you big lug. Should’ve known...would’ve ditched you immediately.”

“After I kindly offered a ride? Youch.” Matsukawa peers at him. He might only be a few inches taller but it does mean Takahiro has to pass over his lips to get to his gaze.

But since Oikawa’s said what he said...Takahiro looks away. Hovers and talks at the passenger side door. “Wanna give me the keys?”

They both know he hates driving.

Matsukawa snorts. Apparently he’s not even going to dignify the shoddy joke with a response.

The truth is, they both know a lot of things, Takahiro starts to think. He leans against the window, the glass cool to his skin. But maybe Oikawa’s right and he’s missed one.

...you’re in love with Matsukawa...and he’s in love with you.

Just to be practical, to seriously think about what it would be like, Takahiro takes a hot second to hand control over to his imagination. Imagines himself turning his body, tilting his head, looking into dark eyes, a bright grin, pulling Matsukawa in and- Takahiro swallows. So he’s flushing. Okay. This is okay, hahaha...

They reverse out the driveway, Matsukawa shifting gears and into traffic with an ease Takahiro should be jealous of. But Matsukawa moves, does it all like it’s secondhand nature. The quiet confidence he wears is rare, but it’s the same kind Oikawa has, putting the ball in Iwaizumi’s hands without hesitation, without doubt, day after day. Each of them has the other’s confidence; are each part of the other’s confidence in himself.

Takahiro leans back and closes his eyes, lets the hot sun wash over his thighs, soaking through his shirt.

Maybe it’s not smart to compare, but Takahiro thinks he places a similar kind of trust in Matsukawa. Or at least the most trust he can muster.

After all, he is a cynic. He’s the one who tells Oikawa they could never have won nationals anyways, and that the likelihood of going to nationals was made in the same ridiculous mold. He’s not a shonen protagonist. His faith is not in people; it’s in numbers, in facts. And that’s how it’s always going to be.

But. Takahiro thinks, thinks that if that was ever going to be different, maybe it’d be because of Matsukawa.

“Hey.”

Takahiro blinks himself alert. Matsukawa’s turning the car around, sliding into the parking lot. They’re lucky there’s a spot right at the front of the diner, even if it’s a bit of a tight fit between two SUVs. “We’re here, meathead.”

“Meathead?”

“It was that or meatball.”

“How hungry are you.” Takahiro springs his seat belt free and he’s got a hand on the door handle when all of a sudden, Matsukawa drops his phone into Takahiro’s lap.

“I’ll go. Do me a favor and text Iwaizumi back for me?”

Takahiro nearly unhinges his jaw. “Do you realize the amount of power you’re giving me. Do you know how much restraint I am being forced to perform right now.” Oh Holy Mother of Volleyball - he could change all of his contacts to Oikawa’s number.

Matsukawa grins his hey!-i’m-the-boy-next-door grin. The corners of his eye crinkling and all, and shit, he’s cute.

Okay, but he’s always been cute!! This is nothing new either!!!

“I am looking away,” Matsukawa says, hopping out his car. “The usual?”

Takahiro nods. Watches Matsukawa turn, watches his back grow smaller as he walks away.

And he’s in love with you, rings in his ears once more.

Is he? Because. If Matsukawa was. And they both...wanted to give it a try...

His shorts are suddenly shifting. He looks down, wraps his fingers around the phone starting to slide down his thigh and brings it up to examine.

The lockscreen’s an old blurry photo of the seniors previous to practice (but the picture changes often. When Oikawa’s bored or Iwaizumi’s feeling vindictive and finally ready to retaliate, or when Takahiro wants to. Often, like he said.). There isn’t a password because Matsukawa says he has nothing to hide, but mostly because Takahiro refuses to memorize any numbers he’s not going to use on a test and it’s more fun using Matsukawa’s phone than his own for some reason.

He makes a quick pit stop at the Photo Gallery, creating copies of some of the pictures of the guys and annotates extra dicks onto them. Most of them are actually photos he’s taken, he realizes. While he’s wondering if he should go ahead and delete some of the bullshit photos so Matsukawa doesn’t need to when he wants to download a new game and he’s got no space, Takahiro remembers he’s supposed to be replying to Iwaizumi. Contacts...there, Iwaizumi’s the first one.

You: so 8?

Iwaizumi: yeah. Iwaizumi: unless Iwaizumi: you know You: ?

Iwaizumi: you know. Iwaizumi: you and hanamaki take a detour

Iwaizumi: to talk bout your feelings Iwaizumi: you’re going to right

Matsukawa’s left it at that, left Iwaizumi on read.

Takahiro blinks.

Matsukawa wants him to answer Iwaizumi’s text.

Matsukawa’s giving him an easy out.

Takahiro closes his eyes. What. Is. Going. On. What does this even mean!!! He reads the text again and- Iwaizumi had said your. What.

He doesn’t get much time to think about the implications because Matsukawa’s walking up to him, passing him his order. The smell of hot food isn’t anywhere near as attractive as it usually is, so he place it on his lap. It can wait. He’s not sure if it’s appropriate to laugh out his nerves or glare, with Matsukawa slipping into his own seat, calm and collected as ever. From head to toe, in every piece of his posture and each inch of his expression, Matsukawa Issei tells the world just how perfectly at peace he is with it. Takahiro compromises by biting his own tongue, which triggers his swear-reflex.

Matsukawa snickers.

Ohoho, alright. Takahiro dials up his glare to the max. “Got something to say, asshole?”

“Yeah, actually,” Matsukawa’s lips twitch, a sign he’s suppressing a smile. Takahiro tries to do the same until the blocker says, “You’ve been kind of spacey. What’s up?”

“Ah.” Takahiro ducks his head. “Not much.” Just realizing I’d like to kiss you. Whaboutyou? ”Oikawa just. Said a thing.”

“Mm?”

Matsukawa’s not expecting a reply, he’s just offering Takahiro the opportunity to, should he want it. Affection, warm and rich, blooms in the spiker’s chest. His shoulders sink, falling lax. If he smiles, a little, sue him. “Pretty insightful thing too. Unusually helpful for a change.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It turns out, before you talk about your feelings,” Takahiro says, looking right at Matsukawa while his ears burst into flames. “You have to be aware of them.”

“Holy shit.” Matsukawa blinks. And then he slaps a hand over his eyes and starts laughing, his shoulders actually shaking. Takahiro should kick hit him or run for the hills, right, except Matsukawa is talking to himself. “Wow. Iwaizumi was...right. I mean. And I thought-”

“Issei.”

“I’ve.” He finally meets Takahiro’s eyes. “Had the biggest crush on you. Since end of first year. And you never knew?”

His expression must have answer because the silly guy starts laughing again and Takahiro honest to the gods, feels giddy enough to join in. “Were you going to tell me?”

A gentle shrug. “Don’t know. Wanted to though.”

Takahiro hums. Neither of them have said the real words though and maybe they should do the thing the conventional way? “So.” he begins. “What would you say if we called today a date?”

“Ask you when the next one would be?” Matsukawa puts a hand on the back of his head, an act which Takahiro recognizes as nervous. “Or ask, ‘wait, so you do like me, right?’“

He’s so silly, Takahiro marvels. So silly.

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

(Epilogue)

Five minutes past eight, Takahiro enters Oikawa’s house. With his boyfriend.

Boyfriend boyfriend boyfrienddd boyyyfriend boyfriend Matsukawa-boyfriend-Issei.

These thoughts do not belong aloud, it turns out, when Oikawa spots them and immediately yells- nonsense at first, and then something along the same lines. Following up, is a demanding, “So?? Did you kiss yet? Yo! Answer the question! Did y’all kiss??” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and tells him to mind his own business.

“Do you really want to know, captain?” Matsukawa smirks. Takahiro’s fingers find his and they link. Watching Oikawa’s eyes expand to the size of dinner plates is just as satisfying as watching the cogs in his brain turning to try and figure out the answer on his own the rest of the night. In the meantime, they’ve taken their spots on the couch while Iwaizumi fiddles with game settings to accommodate the four of them. It’s game night after all.

(Yeah, Takahiro supposes he owes Oikawa; he’ll give the details captain is dying for later. OR. he muses. Maybe he’ll get Oikawa and Iwaizumi together and then call his dues paid? Matsukawa would be down for either.)

Iwaizumi is as characteristically Iwaizumi as ever. At the snack break, Takahiro sees him giving Matsukawa a shoulder pat, and thinks that’s it. After the two of them get knocked out of the Smash Bros round early he plans on sitting back to watch the defending champion and Mr. Kirby war. Instead, he finds his shoulder being tapped and follows, getting led into the kitchen.

Vice captain hands him a water and leans on the counter. “Congrats.”

“Thanks, Iwaizumi-kun.” he deadpans. “I’m sorry we couldn’t work things out but I’ll cherish the memories.”

“Hey, man, I’ll punch you. No boyfriend around to defend you, y’know.” Iwaizumi taunts.

Takahiro smirks right back at him. He’s not sure if he could be happier if he tried. “So what’s this about?”

Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side. “Oikawa tells me he helped you.”

“Yeah,” Takahiro can allow this. He nods. “Just like you helped Issei.”

“Ha! If only you knew.”

Takahiro raises a brow.

“You know the texts I sent him?” Iwaizumi’s grin is so very wolfish. “He asked me to send them. Fabricated all of them himself. He had me set you guys up.” And then he's calling out “See you later!” due to the fact Takahiro is hightailing out of the room.

Oikawa is absolutely beating the shit out of Metaknight, although Matsukawa’s still winning the trash-talking contest. But as Takahiro enters the room, he trails off, eyes leaving the screen for Takahiro’s. Taking his opportunity, Oikawa finally pushes Metaknight off the platform and whoops to kingdom come. It doesn’t really matter though, Takahiro has walked over, leaning down.

Matsukawa meets him midway. The kiss is soft and sweet but it still messes him up. In the best way ever.

Oikawa’s squeaks go ignored.

“You’re adorable.” Takahiro shakes his head as he sinks into the spot besides the blocker on the couch. He puts his head on Matsukawa’s shoulder and breathes in cotton and cool.

“Iwaizumi sold me out, huh?”

Another kiss stolen. “Dibs on him as my best man.”

Matsukawa snickers while Oikawa protests, “The hell? What about me? Makki, I had your back! I made the play of the year! I’m literally game MVP.”

Iwaizumi appears, nudging Oikawa to scoot over until they both have enough space. “I heard my name?” He gets himself two fistbumps.

Oikawa scowls.

#matsuhana #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #my writing #yay an ending

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years

Text

Metallic Need (Bonus Chapter unedited)

Metallic Need : Bonus Chapter (NOT THE FINAL, FINISHED CHAPTER YET.)

Because my friend loves it and I had to write something for her lolol Love you!

Here is what started it:

Idea about burning oil and Neo Metal Amy laying on her stomach seductively in it (since she can't catch on fire, but she could melt lolol) the oil is around and over her so it looks like she's on fire too.

The power walk like, "This alloy doesn't react to such small heat." (hahaha but the real heat is inside their coding lolololol)

Neo: I always knew you were prone to flames... I just didn't realize you wanted to die so quickly. Metal Amy: It's those red eyes that hold the real desire for destruction, Neo Metal Sonic. Neo: ... Who said anything about destruction? (~) lolol A purring lull in his metallic string of sounds (He's honestly so turned on and she's just like, ARE WE FIGHTING?)

Metal Amy: Let's rumble! Neo: Tumble? I like the sound of tha- Metal Amy: NO.

Neo: You will be under my power... -holds up a clawed hand seductively- Metal Amy: -leans head back and glares- You have no power! Neo: ... -pulls back- Is everything literal to you now?

(Friend: HE TRIES SO HARD, Me: Suffer my friend lolol I have a lot of metallic feels thanks to you and now I'm in the mood to write some robotic flirting XDDDD he's like 'how make robotic attracted to me without physically magnetizing her to me?' He did that... once lolol)

Neo: -walking around her, wants to say so many things but is having a hard time with his heart virus finding just one- Your attempt at luring me with your new form is pointless. I own you. I created you. There isn't a part of you I don't know already... I have your blueprints in my mind as we speak. Such a shame... you truly can't ruin what I have made. No matter what you invent yourself to be, you'll always have me in you. Metal Amy: ? Are you still calling me pretty after all I've done!? Neo: -wide eyed- 'SHE UNDERSTOOD?'

Neo: -getting frustrated and angry- YOU BELONG TO ME! -up in her face with his hand twitching and wanting to just slash into her. Metal Amy: If I had a tongue, I would stick it out at you. Disrespectfully. -looks unfazed. She turns to walk away and he's just crushing his body inwards and twiddling his fingers in the air like AHHHHHHH cause he doesn't know how else to flirt-

AND HERE'S WHAT IT IS:

Neo Metal Sonic paced the laundry room, hands behind his back, impatient. He looked at the clock with a look that stated that if it didn't tick correctly he'd have it destroyed with the broom of doom. He was already finished with the basket of organic filth that had been deposited into the washing machine of torturous existences... so now it was time for Neo Metal Amy to check in on him. He had a plan, a sinister way to escape this prison confine of Amy Rose's Home and take his creation back, it was flawless, the moment was right! He had planned everything down to the last drop of blood he'd drain from each of Sonic's friends... but where was she!?

The time seemed to slow down around Neo Metal Sonic, he grew increasingly hostile, flicking his claws to create heated sparks that flew off like a small sparkler in a fireworks demonstration as he stopped pacing and glared with a beam of red to the door. 'She's LATE.' his entire metal frame was on edge, as though his being was polarizing with magnetic force and crushing itself in and out. "That's it. My inferior programming has subsided for the day!" He looked to check that the dryer of all burning screams was almost completed, and so, he left his post...

Walking around Amy's home, he kicked and put nicks on all her furniture as he passed by, a way to vent without triggering his programming since the 'safety of inanimate objects' wasn't a prioritized programming... so Amy would finds steel foot dents and scraped wood on her cabinets constantly as a way for Metal to still protest his confinement as a butler. Needless to say, she hated it. Finally, he made his way to the flowerbed outside, pretending a moment in his mind to set the whole thing on fire like Amy's repeated red clothes that he wished he could dye in her blood instead of wash in detergent when suddenly... a flash of light came from the lake outside of Amy's home... He stared as the powerful force of whip-lashing wind blew the petals out from the backyard and surrounded the water droplets that sparkled around the metallic frame.

It was the first time Neo Metal Sonic realized... he couldn't fly to her. That sick, twisted realization sent a feeling of hopelessness throughout his heart virus... his shoulders wanted to fall back, but he tried to will them up... but with the heart programming it was useless. They slumped as he watched her send a blast through the lake, training maybe or figuring out better ways to perfect her battle abilities... against him? He hoped. At least that meant she was thinking of him again. At least he was still somewhat important... He tried to kick off the ground by lifting his heel up and shoving it down, but his jet didn't engage... Why... He kicked again, and again, and again, and again until his eyes squinted in their desperate need to grasp her... hold his creation again... be with her again... Like a flightless bird, he felt useless, defective. Out of all her 'tortures' she tried to conceive against him... this was the worst one yet. She finally did spot him, turning gracefully in the air with her duel turbo engines under her dress and by her legs, seeing him in the distance. '...Be with me.' he commanded, before glaring in his rage. 'BE WITH ME.' he tried to send the signal but she was already coming, a threatening claw reeled back to attack him. He waited quietly as her sound drew closer, and then dodged as she spiked the ground, jumping to the roof and making sure to damage it in the process. He held himself high, feigning dominance. "you're late... even for your own 'torture session'... pitiful."

"You say that as though you're excited." she yanked her hand out, glaring, "Prepare to feel death once more... Neo Metal Sonic!" he twitched at her saying he seemed excited, then mentally scolded the infernal heart programming again for giving it away. "I would say prepare yourself, NEO Metal Amy..." He flared, slowly to let the dramatic wind swoop his waist-cloak out flapping into the air menacingly. "I have plans for you as well..." He matched her glare, but it was much more regal then hers, and it infuriated her. She sent out a metallic cry and charged him, flying up to him. 'Yes... come to me... don't take your eyes off of me. Don't ever stop thinking of me.' he jumped to dodge her, as she materialized her hammer as the silver goop formed it and she sent electricity through it, hitting balls of sparking light towards him. He tilted himself in the air, before wildly gesturing as an acrobatic to dodge them, showing off. Not one hit... 'Pay attention, this will be your first lesson!' He twisted himself and landed beautifully on the roof again, slowly rising up. 'You will feel me... you will know only I can satisfy you...' he gripped his claws, and then shred them over her image a few feet away. 'I want to exist in those eyes... forever...' and then he charged her.

As she braces for impact, she also tries to secure her footing and grabs Neo Metal Sonic's shot out clawed hand, having it tightly compacted to look almost like a spike and flings him down like a martial artists dodge. 'Perfect' his eyes dim as he unparts his fingers and grabs her wrist. "What?" She looks confused, wondering what he could possibly be doing as he takes what looks like a charger pack from out of his waist-cloak, "You look a bit... thirsty." and spikes his thumb into it, having sparks fly out as he jams it into the crevice of her arm-guard. She is electrocuted, but with all her batteries, it's not really damaging. "What are you thinking?" She glares, her body twitching only slightly from the effects. "I could just shove energy out of me! This was your big threat!?" He continues to stare at her... "H-huh?" Then it occurred to her... this feeling... there was no pain associated to it anymore. Now that she looked down at her captive hand, she noticed the pleasant streams of... "Feeling." her eyes widened and she began to struggle to get his grip off. "Let go!"

"How amusing... the creation that used to enjoy this so much... now fights against it..."

"You made me hate it!" she kicked his stomach in, but he held his ground, trying to trigger his engine but it still wouldn't work. He could have at least scrapped up her foot with it spinning, though it wouldn't leave a mark on the alloy... it would have still given off plenty of sparks to the party... "Tell me," He tilted one eyelid down, "If feeling was so terribly traumatic for you... then why insist I struggle with it? Has it not occurred to you that perhaps I-" Before he could finish his manipulation, his eyes widened as she began to glow bright yellow from within her systems, and then turned to him fully. "So you know my pain." and jammed herself up against him. The explosion broke the roof as the two fell through, and Neo Metal Sonic did feel the pain... but enjoyed every second of it. Though he was in immense simulated pain, he fought through it and tried to embrace her... even while falling through the roof... he just wanted to keep her locked to his side. When the crashing consumed them, Amy cried out from upstairs and came racing downstairs, jaw hitting the ground as though this was the last straw. He was steaming... his systems fired, but he had successfully locked himself to her... 'Now, to give the command.' his eyes flickered red, almost about to shut down in an emergency protocol. She started to get up, but he sent all his power to executing the command, and was like a stuck accessory around her. "Ugh, get off!" she faked exertion, as though an organic feeling strain. However, she stood up as the rubble fell around her, arms away, looking down at what seemed to be a destroyed Metal... Clinging to her and not letting go. "He must have locked his arms before destructing." she thought, before turning to Amy to apologize. But while she did... a deadly signal was being sent to her... Neo Metal Amy was scolded yet again and banished to the Lake while Amy called for some help. She was still stuck with Neo Metal Sonic's trash tightly holding itself around her, but continued to try and find ways to 'unstuck' herself from him. Until a sudden idea popped into her head. She didn't know where it had come from, but she pulled lightly against Neo Metal Sonic's head and looked into the blank and black screens of his eyes... "...Huh?" she suddenly saw it flicker with an image of her when she was incomplete up on Eggman's storage ship. "That's..." she watched memories pass by on Neo Metal Sonic's screen, of their first experience under the electric shower to the later advanced 'pleasurable' electric charging sessions they had... but he seemed to be purposefully leaving out more of the recent tortures... She shook her head, "So he thinks of the past too much, so what?" she let the head drop, "...There was once a time... I would have liked to see even a shred of kindness from my master..." she thought out loud, not sure why, as though answering another inputted question. "But those days can never be. Not when you're a robot..." What she didn't know... was that Neo Metal Sonic was searching her memories, learning about Omochao and her previous thoughts. Seeing how she escaped, her betrayal, and her reprogramming. But then he sent more signals throughout her, looking for any sign that she wanted to please or be pleased... any weakness that he can draw upon. "To you... my flaws were nothing more than entertainment and pleasure... but to me... All I wanted was your acceptance." she closed her eyes, not sure why she was digging this out of herself again. A twitching, burnt claw hand suddenly skimmed her back... "All I truly desired was to please you... but you never accepted me, and you wouldn't allow yourself to be errored even though you were!" she swiped at his head, so he remained still again. "No matter what I do, you still torment me! Acting as though I'm something valuable to you! When you didn't even know what to do with me in the first place!" she kept hitting him, as he indirectly triggered her with his searching for information. Then he found what he was looking for... He reactivated his flickering eyes, looking slowly up to her as she stopped hitting him and was pushed to the ground. Still holding her, he lifted his hand up to the crook of her head, "I remember... the last look on your face... before I threw you to the canon-fodder..." He clicked a switch that gave him access to her spine's wires... "I remember... how you looked at me that day." She was shocked he was able to survive that, but even more so how he was still operational. "W-what are you..? What do you possible think you can gain from-!?" He pulled a wire out, and her expression suddenly went limp and her head fell back. Electric sparks danced around the loose wire as he held it up to his mouth, figuratively drinking her energy in as he prepared for the last and final stage... "I never wanted to loose you... but I couldn't possibly lose TO you... So in a way, you still please me... whether by your own will or not, it's an objective you can't possibly erase from your programming..." He dipped down once his eyes stabilized from the power source, and began shocking her with her own power. Bending her into him, he made sure he had enough before rehooking the wire in, and watching her flare up anger, trying to pierce her claws into him as he continued to send a pleasurable amount of energy back into her. He was attempting the revolving door again... "Doesn't it feel... entertaining?" he suddenly laughed as her eyelids blinked a few times, as though trying to fight the sensation of being recharged. "Doesn't it make you wish you never tried to be organic!?"

With the sparks sending only good feelings, though some constant pain to Neo Metal Sonic through his spinal antenna, the two were back to their old ways again but Neo Metal Amy continued to struggle. He gripped the sides of her head and pulled her against his sparking frame, trying to replicate what she had done for him by taking a hand and looping it in a twist around her arm, letting the heat and electricity spark up in a jagged line to send the same memorable pleasures back to her. So it seemed like a role-reversal, but Neo Metal Sonic had no idea if this was even working or not. His first plan was to addict her to him again, make her realize he was the only one she could serve instead of the organics, but her flaws seemed to be strengths when he looked at her memories. He was amazed by her continual ingenuity, and how no matter what problem, she seemed to find a way to wrestle out of the sensations of touch were mostly on Neo Metal Sonic's side, he was suddenly finding himself even more drawn to the heart programming when it made him of think of things and do actions he didn't know were an organic sign of affection... but through her memories he found, stage two in finding a flaw and formulating what systems were still intact also came through to give him location to her wires... how to strengthen himself. He couldn't hurt an organic, but there was nothing that said he couldn't 'tempt' her to do the work for him... Finding that she wanted his approval was laughable to Neo Metal Sonic, but if it meant securing her to him, what was to lose? His pride was already tarnished, and he could punish her later... but right now... he twisted his head and turned her into him, desperate to give her what she wanted in exchange to having the command signal closer and hoping to brainwash her... however... the heart virus was immediately activated, and suddenly, he found himself twitching. "Noo..." He finally had want he wanted... why was it-!? "NOOO..." his eyes blared red, his claw left her form and gripped the ground, digging into it as he fought the new expression being triggered. However, he couldn't, and suddenly... his escape plan didn't matter anymore. Neo Metal Amy was under a lot of stimuli, it was as though being drugged up in delight, but her hand hit his chest, trying to force him off again, "M-Metal..." she stuttered, unable to fight for much longer... because this was something she had once wanted... love without pain. In his struggle, he found himself absolutely giving in and focusing only on pleasing her, something he'd never do if he was fully in control of his own assets. "Stop... stop fighting me..." she was confused, not sure why his demeanor had changed and why he seemed less hostile... more desperate... "Metal?" her eyes were closing as sent all he had to her... every last spark before she regained herself and the command signal stopped... Neo Metal Sonic being consumed in making her loyal to him again. She began to recharge normally, and grabbed him to look and see what was going on. "You..." His eyes were... Green. "You're feeling." He bent them, twitching. "No." he stated. "Yes." she nodded, amazed. "You are feeling... for me."

As Neo Metal Sonic's form shook from the realization of what the heart virus forced him to recognize and reveal, Neo Metal Amy couldn't help but be stunned at his vulnerable frame. She was sucked into the moment, the sparks still zapped at times, but now her entire focus was on this new experience he had never felt before. Could it be? Was he really solely thinking of her and nothing else? "... Metal Sonic..." she referring to his previous life, "Do you..." She placed her fingers lightly on his cheek as the heart virus forced him to react as though panting, his chest rising and falling. "I can't..." His eyes were bent... all the hostility and evil she had known looked completely gone from him in this moment. It left her completely taken aback. She continued to look over him, watching the 'errors' manifest so prominently now. "I can never be this..." He kept repeating more and more things, but she tuned it out. He was so afraid of being organic... she didn't realize it was fear. She moved up and cupped his face, her former compassion shining through one more time, even towards this weakened moment for Neo Metal Sonic. "NEVER say that." she tried to command, but she didn't have that programmed into him to obey. "You are not Sonic... but you can be whatever you choose to be. You don't have to be evil, Neo... you could be like me..." she skimmed her thumb upon his muzzle. "...But I want you." he admitted, his hands coming back up to her own, and then sliding down to cling as though ashamed to her face, scooting himself closer to it. "I just want you." She let go of his face, "No... N-no, it's emotions. Metal, you're feeling! You can feel! You can allow yourself to-!" He gripped her head and pushed it up to his forehead, his green eyes trembling. "No." he declared, "NO." he repeated. "I don't want to change, I don't want to reform. I only want you. I don't want to feel, I don't want to emote. I never wanted anything besides the death of Sonic, the title of the superior Sonic, and you. YOU. YO-! VVEEE...vveee...VVERRR..." he suddenly arched his back as he jerked forward, sparking out to have the sensation of her and him spinning in that heated, electric pleasure wheel again before he hadn't checked his own supply counts... plus, with his body mostly destroyed from their last brawl... it was no use. He had sparked his last and fell limp, shutting down. Neo Metal Amy moved quickly, placing his head in her lap, "Neo! Neo, stay with it! Don't say that! Please..!" She ducked her head, as though crying as he closed her eyes and simulated the desperate loss of hope she had just gained for a split second. "Don't give me hope like this and then just reject and deny it like you did me!" as she turned her head away, feeling the doom of him never truly changing... and him always staying the torturous fiend she knew him to be... a tender hand lightly tapped her nose and skidded his sharp finger off of it. "I never... rejected... you..." he then completely feel limp and shut down, fully nonoperational. He may have hated feeling, hated 'errors', hated that he could never measure up to Sonic no matter how hard he tried to be a better 'Sonic' than him... he never turned her away, but embraced her. Her heart programming was so torn. Omochao's data sparked to life again, pleading. 'You aren't meant to be this... you had a good life. Please. Don't get hung on this again... be free.' she shoved the thoughts away, "He's a machine that can FEEL! He wants only power and dominion! But I think... for the first time... he was forced to realize how organic he really can become..." She knew he was stuck in his ways... but for just a moment, a brief moment... he was almost ALIVE. A soul... that could feel and possibly change. When she carried him home and revived him, building him up again. He went back to the same old chores, and didn't speak to her for a full day. Staring at the stars, she finally confronted him... but he looked away, acting as though that exchange... never happened.

the end

(In conclusion, she's gonna name a child after me. My friend: "Micaela, you were named after disgruntled robots with sexual frustration." her: "What?"

Fanficiton: (x)

#mmm-asbestos #cutegirlmayra #metallic need #me fanfic #metal sonamy #neo metal sonic #neo metal amy #metal amy rose #metamy #sonic fanfiction #cutegirlmayra1

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Note

In HW will we ever see something Historically funny, like Taehyung , Y/N parents coming to visit without notice and them scurrying to clean up just in general... lol

Hahaha I love that idea. Let me write a little drabble right now. (I know you said clean up in general but I thought it would be funnier if they were in the middle of something...)

Warning: smut, somehow morphed into angst I’M SORRY

The island kitchen counter is Taehyung’s favourite place to eat you out. And despite the hard slab of marble pressed cold against your back rather than the soft cushion of your mattress, the scandalousness of the location, so out in the open without the shelter of walls, makes it arguably your favourite too.

Splayed out on the counter, your legs swung over his shoulders, his hair is the only thing you can grip on in the absence of bed sheets. And he loves it.

“Fuck, Taehyung, keep going, I’m close.”

You feel him smirk against your cunt, the rhythm of his tongue hitting your clit quickening. Your eyes are screwed shut, lips stinging from his biting. This orgasm is going to be spectacular, you can tell.

Ding dong.

The pit of your stomach drops when you hear the familiar sound of the doorbell.

Taehyung’s face resurfaces from between your legs, eyes wide at the interruption. “Delivery?” He asks, wiping his sheen-coated mouth.

“Hmm, could be my clothes.” You purse your lips in annoyance. You were this close.

In a careless hurry, you forgo your panties on the floor and put your sweatpants on, and you silently thank that Taehyung was too impatient to take your top off before devouring you. Shirtless, he lounges back on the stool, spinning it to face the door, probably to death stare the delivery boy. Though, even without the death stare, his massive boner poking out his checkered pyjama bottoms would send the guy running.

When you swing the door open, your heart stops beating.

“Sweetie, hi!”

Oh fuck.

You hear Taehyung stagger off the stool behind you.

“M-mum? Dad? H-hi. What are you… doing here?” You forget how to breath when your parents pull you into a bone-crushing embrace. This pigeon-shit luck of yours will get you killed one day.

“We were just in the area since we were having brunch with Meredith. You remember Auntie Meredith? She looked after you that one weekend your dad and I went to France when you were eight? So we’d just thought to pop by and say hi.” You don’t know who the fuck Meredith is, nor do you care. Because your parents are currently pushing pass you into your house, where a completely horrified Taehyung is scrambling around the island counter so his boner isn’t full on display to your parents.

When your eyes meet his, you can’t tell who is panically more internally.

“Taehyung!” Your father greets, eyes scanning the poor boy’s stark chest. “Wow, look at you!”

You could say that Taehyung is pretty well-acquainted with your parents, though you would rather them not be this overly friendly with your roommate. He’s usually good with your folks, joking around with them, especially if the subject of conversation is you. But right now… A bead of sweat trickles down his cheek.

“H-hi, Y/D’s/N. Er, it’s nice to see you.” Arms crossed to preserve his modesty, Taehyung stutters. With your previous activity still fresh in your mind, you think you can just about dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment. Had they heard you moaning? Oh my god...

“Jeez, Taehyung, it’s been a while! Where’s your shirt? Don’t get me flustered now.” Fanning her face, your mum jokes. She likes to make it blatantly obvious how attractive Taehyung is, and it makes you want to pull your hair out.

“Right, sorry, we weren’t expecting you. We just woke- I just woke up. I’ll go put something on right now, give me a second.” Your eyes meet as he flees the scene, and you give him a lethal daggering glare for leaving you to fend for yourself.

The sensual ache between your legs has completely vanished, replaced with that throat-constricting feeling of dread. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your parents - you are - just not right now of all times.

“Surprised, sweetie?” You mum fawns over you, fingers combing through the tangles in your hair while your dad surveys your messy place.

“Very surprised, mum. Pleasantly, of course.” You force a sickly sweet smile at her, mouth dry with guilt. If only she knew the filth you had been up to with Taehyung. He had kept you up all night last night, which is why you only got out of bed at noon. And even so, he still wanted to eat you out for breakfast.

Your eyes follow your father’s tacitly judgemental gaze, no doubt preparing to scold you on your disorganisation. It doesn’t take more than a minute to wash up a goddamn mug! You can practically hear him say. Then your eyes land on your thong on the floor.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

“Are you even listening, Y/N?” Your mother chides. “I said, Taehyung is really quite handsome, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, mum, of course.” Without paying attention to her words, you answer.

The black lace underwear lies rather inconspicuously by the corner of the counter. From a fleeting glance, it could pass off as a discarded sock. But knowing your father, knowing how his scrutinizing eyes never fails to find every single flaw, there is no chance he will miss it. He is pacing on the other side of the counter, a few steps away from reaching it; and you’re standing a good five metres away, you won’t be able to hide it without being obvious. Doomed.

Just then, Taehyung emerges from his room, a creased t-shirt thrown over his head, hair still sticking out in places where you were tugging. Your eyes immediate travel to examine his bulge, which is less prominent than before, confirming that the poor throbbing thing is tucked under the band of his boxers.

“Taehyung!” Your mother flocks over to him, clutching his arm too enthusiastically. “We were just talking about you. You’ve grown out your hair! It looks great on you!”

Your dad stops pacing on the other side of the counter, and you let out of breath of relief as your underwear remains hidden under the counter. In two strides, you bend over to pick it up and stuff it in your sweats while the attention is diverted to Taehyung.

“Thank you. Y/N wouldn’t let me cut it, she said she likes it long.” Taehyung chuckles nervously, glancing over at you. Your eyes narrow at his innuendo. Intentional? Probably not, he’s way too freaked out right now.

“Come on, it does look better long and permed, doesn’t it?” Though your voice resumes its regular tone, your heartbeat has yet to calm. Your parents absolutely cannot find out about you and Taehyung. From the fact that you have not had a single boyfriend in your life and how repulsed you act every time they ask about men in your life, they probably think that you are a virgin. You’d rather keep that pristine image of yourself.

“Taehyung looks good either way.” You roll your eyes as your mum pats Taehyung’s cheeks fondly, and the pleased grin it coaxes from him. Too smug.

“Thanks, Y/M’s/N.”

“So,” your dad crosses his arms and leans onto the island, “What's up with you two lately?” So the interrogation has begun.

“What do you mean how have we been?” You bristle. “We’re fine, still great friends. Why would anything be up with us?” Taehyung bites the inside of his cheeks at your response. Great friends, indeed.

“Hey now, I meant how have you guys been, Miss Sensitive.” Taken aback by your defensiveness, you dad chuckles.

Right... You clamp down on your lip. You should shut up before you give anything away.

“Yeah, Taehyung, you got a girlfriend?” Your mother’s brows raise suggestively. Oh god, not this again.

“Mum-”

“Nah, no girlfriend.” Taehyung shakes his head shyly, scratching the back of his head.

“Really? Oh why not!? I’m sure girls are lining up to be with you!”

You’re about to drag your mother off Taehyung when you actually consider her question. Why doesn’t Taehyung have a girlfriend? It’s not like he’s really sleeping around nowadays anyway. And though he never expresses it to you, since it would probably be weird, he is definitely the type to be pining for a girlfriend at heart.

When you glance at him, his cheeks are tinted, eyes searching the floor frantically. “I don’t know… I guess I’m just… Not really actively looking for a serious relationship right now? I’m happy with the way things are currently with my life.”

You’re not sure why you feel as though his words are aimed at you and your situation. Are you overthinking? Or is he saying that he doesn't want anything to change between you? Not that you want anything more, god no, you just… Maybe a selfish greedy part of you hopes to keep Taehyung all for yourself.

“Psh, yeah right, that’s what I used to tell myself, buddy.” Your dad chimes in, and you’d just wish he would dial his abrasive tone down a little. You've definitely taken after your father. Good thing he likes Taehyung, or the savagery would show its claws. “Trust me, you’ll want a girl sooner or later.”

“Exactly. And I know you’ll kick me out for this, sweetie, but you two would make a great couple. Why not just give it a go?”

Taehyung has gone completely stiff. You can’t believe what your mother is saying. This isn’t the first time she has urged you to date Taehyung. He’s good looking, a nice guy, makes you laugh. Y/N, why not? Why not? Because- Because…

“Mum! You’re right.” Her face lights up. “I’m definitely kicking you out. Please, we’ll have dinner this weekend. But we’re busy right now. Goodbye.”

As you usher your parents to the door despite their protests, you purposely avoid Taehyung’s eye, sensing the heat rush profusely to your face. “Wait but, Y/N-”

“Taehyung and I are best friends. I’m not going to be his girlfriend, we’re happy right now. Okay?”

Strangely, when you slam the door after your parents, it feels as though you’re trapping yourself with the very problem you wish not to face, rather than having banished it. Cheeks bashfully red, Taehyung doesn’t say anything when you approach him, muttering your apologies on behalf of your parents.

His mouth opens, and shuts.

You’re glad that he stays quiet, glad that he doesn’t disagree with what you said. Because you don’t know you would handle knowing that Taehyung wants something more.

Unedited and rushed and sporadic and kinda shit sorry

#heatwave #heatwave drabble #ask: Heatwave #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts #bts taehyung #bts smut

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ghost--facers · 4 years

Text

S01E02 - Wendigo (Part Five)

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back! Wow, it has only been like two years! Hahaha. I finally found Supernatural again and I started binging and I just couldn’t get writing out of my head! So here it is: part five of the second episode of the Series One (Wendigo) imagine series I’m doing where I rewrite the reader into Supernatural. Feedback is appreciated and if you want to be tagged in the next part please let me know! I hope you like it x

Characters: Dean (eventual Dean x reader), Sam, Hailey (+ other characters from the episode)

Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 2695

Description: The reader continues to hunt the Wendigo with the Winchester Brothers.

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Episode One

Wendigo : Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

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“Alright. Listen up!” Sam begun, nudging past you as he walked into the centre of th

After making makeshift bombs for around 30 minutes, which would’ve probably taken less time if Dean hadn’t had to teach Haley how to do it several times, you began to move away from camp. You had managed to control your nerves, for now anyway, and had only grabbed onto Dean’s jacket once but as a sign of affection. The patience he had with Hailey was incredible and you couldn’t help but smile when he kept looking over and rolling his eyes a little. You shouldn’t really smile at that, but it made you feel a little special that you were able to do it and she couldn’t… although you kept thinking that maybe you should have pretended to not understand how to make a homemade bomb so he could spend more time with you.

“Don’t you fucking dare start liking him, [y/n].” You mumbled to yourself.

“What?” Sam spoke, turning around to face you. He had clearly heard you mumble… hopefully not any exact words otherwise he’d be able to predict immediately.

“Oh, nothing. Just humming a song.” You lied, before jogging up so you could walk next to him. Hailey and her brother were all in front of you and you were all following Dean who was leading the way.

“This is tiring.” You smiled, trying to make the whole situation, which was becoming eerie, more lighthearted. No one responded, but you heard a few scoffs from some of them. You were hoping one of them was from Dean.

___

“Are we setting up camp soon or like….?” You asked, bending down a little.

You had been walking for quite a while now and you could tell because it was hard to see. The sun had gone to bed and everything was one hundred times more creepy. The leaves seemed to crunch underfoot at a higher volume and the wind whistled through the trees like it was the last time it could and it was making the most of it. You hated it. But you couldn’t turn back.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, causing you to stand back up and look over.

Sam had taken over as lead a while ago but Dean didn’t join you at the back, unfortunately, and you couldn’t catch up with him because you weren’t fast enough.

“What is it?” You heard him reply, and ran over to sit next to him. You were nosy and wanted to know what was happening. Plus, you really didn’t want to be at the back anymore… it was getting too creepy.

“Shit.” Your murmured, looking around all the trees that each had a massive claw mark ripped into it which were covered in blood.

Sam then pushed you and Dean to the side, but quite unexpectedly so you freaked out a little bit but calmed down when you noticed who it was.

“You know, I was thinking that those claw prints are so clear and distinct… they were almost too easy to follow.” He whispered.

“Like… it’s a trap?” You answered, swivelling around to face both of them.

They didn’t have time to answer, as a growl surrounded all your ears and you whipped around in all possible angles to check if something was there. You hadn’t noticed you had backed up, trying to get closer to Dean, until you hit him.

“Sorry.” You muttered, still frantically looking around.

“Don’t be.” He replied, before grabbing your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze before releasing.

It had only been for a second, but your heart couldn’t take it and your nervous stomach, that was making you feel ill, got overtaken by butterflies who were making you motion sick.

You looked at Dean who was searching around, for a shadow that had flittered past, and you felt comfortable in his presence; even if you were being chased by a Wendigo.

However, your uncomfortableness soon reared its ugly head again as you heard a loud scream erupt from Hailey and a loud thud followed.

You turned around quickly, searching around for Hailey, who was now sprawled across the floor, and directly next to her was a body. The butterflies had left, replaced again with pure dread, as you and Sam ran up to her to ask if she was okay.

As Sam lifted her from the ground, you turned your attention back towards Dean who was leaning over the body. It was Roy. The sickness rose. You didn’t like the man, but he didn’t deserve the fate he met.

“His neck is broken.” Dean softly spoke, drawing his attention to the forest canopy.

The snarls continued, growing louder, destroying the time for mourning.

“Okay, run, run! Go, go, go, go!” Dean screamed, giving you no time to think as he pushed you forward.

You were thankful for this though, your brain had given up. It wasn’t used to seeing all the death and pain that people had to endure.

You, like everyone else, ran forward, not worrying about if your legs would suddenly collapse. Although you felt like they would. You heard someone’s legs actually do this, but didn’t turn around. You knew you would feel guilty about it later, but right now you were just focused on running.

A little too fast though, as you suddenly crashed into someone or something.

Your head burned and your body stung in every possible place. And then it went black.

___

“Dean? Sam?” You whispered hoarsely. Your eyes began to burn as you opened, dust settling over the lids. “Dean? Sam?”

You couldn’t help but cry out as you saw the decrepit place you were being held. The rope bore into your skin, the dry air attacking your lungs. Where were you? What had happened? A low growl murmured through the underground pathway. Tears escaped your eyes, you were locked up, abandoned. You could even be dead, you didn’t know.

“Guys please.” You could only manage a whisper as you floated back into unconsciousness.

___

“[Y/N], it’s okay sweetheart, we got you.”

You looked up at Dean smiling down at you. While the sky was a beautiful bright blue with not a single cloud in sight, you could only focus on the beauty put before you. Dean smiled down at you, a sense of concern glazing over his eyes. What a perfect moment it was, just you and Dean. Even if you had just fallen flat on the floor...

You closed your eyes, a smile plastered on your face - this moment could never be beaten. You slipped your hand into his, feeling the warmth of his palm and the tightness of his grip. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was sliming down at you, but you opened your eyes nonetheless.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean assured, holding onto your waist, gripping you tight.

When your eyes opened you thought you’d see the young, bright face of an eighteen-year-old Dean, so fresh and full of life. What was actually looking down at you was the dirty, stern face of a much older Dean that had clearly been to the depths of Hell and back.

Tears streamed down as you recalled your situation, being close to death tied up underground by a Supernatural being. A Supernatural being you didn’t even know existed until yesterday. Mostly you were crying because you’d been found, and Dean was holding you tight as you went through this terrifying experience.

“My knight in shining armour.” You scoffed as he untied your wrists, allowing blood to flood to them again. “At least I know I’ve always got you to save me.”

Dean dropped the rope to the floor and grabbed your waist once again, looking down at your intently. You felt yourself blush as you looked back up at him. Hopefully, the dirt caked across your face would hide it.

“Always, [Y/N].” He whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of your forehead. “Always.”

“Guys, come on,” Sam muttered, breaking the moment. It didn’t do anything to stop the swirling in your stomach though. “Let’s go find, Tommy.”

You spent a couple minutes adjusting to the environment, grabbing onto Dean for support, before you felt stable enough to pick up the pace and walk yourself. You trapsed through the underground corridors with Sam, Dean, Haley, and her brother by your side and soon enough you came across another body hanging and limp.

“No.” Haley gasped running towards the lifeless body in front of us.

She grabbed hold of him, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. You couldn’t look, you couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling. You lowered your head, suppressing tears of your own.

A sudden gasp brought your attention back to Tommy. He was awake. Breathing. Alive! The joy on Haley’s face was unimaginable, and everyone began clamouring toward him.

“Cut him down,” Haley spoke, holding onto her brother's face.

You moved toward his and helped Sam with cutting the rope holding Tommy’s legs, lowering him to the ground, and removing the bindings on his feet.

“It’s okay. We’re gonna get you home.” Haley spoke as a smile of relief broke across Tommy’s face.

You looked at his face once more before glancing over at Dean. He was rummaging through some bags and pulled out two objects which looked like guns. A few weeks ago that would’ve surprised you but your facial expression now didn’t change.

“Check it out!” Dean spoke as he waved the guns, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Flare guns. Those will work.” Sam responded, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Let’s get going then.” You smiled back at Sam before looking over at Dean. You thought you saw him wink at you but maybe you were wrong… it was dark after all.

____

You began walking through the corridors once more, eyes alert for any movement. You were scared, you couldn’t deny it, but there was no way a Wendigo was gonna defeat you.

I’m not dying in a fucking cave, you thought to yourself, and even if I did, I’ll go down fighting.

“Looks like someone’s home for supper.” Dean scoffed, as a low rumble ran down the cave.

“We’ll never outrun it!” Haley exclaimed. For a girl who's just been through so much, her face was plagued with steely determination.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean asked Sam, with them exchanging glances between them. You knew at some point you’d be privy to their physic plans too and you couldn’t wait.

“I think so.” He responded, hiking up the flair even higher.

“Alright, listen to me. Stay with Sam. He’s gonna get you out of here.” Dean turned facing all of you.

“What are you gonna do?” Haley’s concern grew.

“Dean, you can’t face that thing alone.” You whispered, a tremor becoming more apparent.

He just looked at you, winked again, and ran out into another lane.

“He’s a fucking idiot.” You sighed as he screams out “It’s chow time, you freaking bastard”.

He continued screaming as you stayed by Sam’s side. You knew he was more than capable but it didn’t hurt any less and your mind couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if he failed.

“All right, come on. Hurry!” Sam shouted, urging you guys to move into a different area. For once in your life, you were obedient and followed him.

You continued through the tunnel, hearing the growl of the beast rising.

“Get out of here,” Sam spoke, nodding towards the exit of the cave.

“No!’ Haley replied.

“Come on.” You spoke. It hurt your heart to leave Sam but you knew they had a plan and that they’d be able to survive. They had to survive. “He’ll be fine, let’s go.”

Haley looked at you and you felt a sense of admiration from her as you looked back. You managed a weak smile as you lead them out of the cave and into the brightness.

You wished it was as easy as that but the Wendigo appeared from nowhere. The sound of its growls was deafening and it unnerved you to hear him chasing after you.

It’ll all be okay, you spoke to yourself as you listened to both the growls and the screams attacking you from all sides.

“Get behind me!” Sam spoke, as he covered you all with his width. You looked as the Wendigo closed in on you.

Well, I guess I am dying in a cave you muttered shutting your eyes tight. What even was your life right now?

You opened your eyes to face your killer and its gargantuan frame glared back. The off-grey skin covered in sparse white hairs seemed only fitting for this crooked nose monster. It was horrific, everything about it. But you stared. There was no way you weren’t facing it in your last moments.

“Hey!” Dean screamed, causing it to turn around only to be greeted with flare. It burned inside of it, melting it to the ground as it cried out in agony. In the end, there was nothing left, just a heap of flames on the ground.

“Not bad, huh?” Dean smiled, plaguing the rest of you with a smile too.

“Not bad at all.” You grinned shaking your head at him.

____

You were sat at the steps on the information cabin at the Ridge, staring off into space. You’d just spoken to the local police about the 900-pound grizzly you’d faced that had terrorised your camp and killed a member of your group. It was complete shit, but as if the police force would actually believe you.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, saddling up beside you. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be. You’ve saved my life twice now.” You smirked up at him. “Whatever can I do to repay my knight in shining armour?”

“I could think of a few things.” He smirked back as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Truly though, I am sorry.” He spoke, placing an arm around you. “I didn’t mean to be a dick and I hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I forgive you.” You replied, leaning into him. “Oh, and I heard what you called out when I ran to get Roy.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You replied, blushing.

“Mhmm. You’re cute.” He laughed, although it came out as a whisper, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear.

A smile swarmed across your face.

You wanted to say more. About how much it meant to you to be back with them, how much you loved being around him, and what you actually felt about him, even if you didn’t know what it fully was yet. But you couldn’t, so you just closed your eyes, snuggled into him more and felt his arm tighten around you.

____

You watched Haley and her brother drive away in the back of an Ambulance with Tommy. You were perched in between Sam and Dean with a police blanket wrapped around you.

“Man, I hate camping,” Dean muttered, as you all watched the vehicle drive away. “Me too,” Sam replied.

“Me fucking three.” You sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter, the boys laughing as you did so.

“Hey, Sam, you know we’re going to find Dad right?” Dean spoke after listening to multiple sighs coming from Sam’s direction.

“Yeah, I know.” He responded. “But in the meantime, I’m driving.”

“Ooohh, this just got good.” You laughed. “Shotgun!”

“Wait, not fair.” Dean protested.

“Sorry Dean, but she did call shotgun.”

Dean fished into his pocket, producing the keys before throwing them over to Sam. He looked so heartbroken.

“Poor baby.” You said as you ruffled his hair and clamoured into the passenger seat.

You could see the worry radiating off of him as he got into the very back of the Impala and stretched his legs over the seat.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” He tried to convince himself, closing his eyes as he did so.

You saw your window of opportunity and moved the blanket off you and draped it over him as he lied down.

“Goodnight little baby.” You whispered, hearing Sam laugh and Dean trying to cover his own amusement.

----

Tags: @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @jules12345678910 @anolympianhero @cra-zy-vib-es1999 @sherlock44 @for-a-brothers-love @puppies-make-me-extra-happy @dean-is-my-favorite @a-little-bit-of-everythin @dean-is-a-cutie @be-with-me-for-evermore @tbk28 @haveyoumetmeyet @that-was-scary @in-deans-arms @it-could-go-off @dean-is-my-superhero @kgbrenner @kingkenzieo @the-angels-stole-the-tardis @shizzybarnaclee @mellowlandrunaway2 @captainjacklynmarie

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!)

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 years

Note

whats up its me your worst nightmare ;) here to request 14. “I-I miss your arms around me as I slept, I know it’s embarrassing but you made me feel safe.” with yennskier (maybe yen saying it?) (geralt who, fuck geralt)

(this.... my dearest nightmare darling, this got... away from me. as... all of my writing seems to do. It also... made me stupid giggly at the end. for reasons... that you will see...when you get there. *clears throat aggressively* hahaha! thank you as always darling!!!! i love writing these two so muuuuccchhhhhh!!!)

They’d gotten close after the mountain. Yennefer had found him after everything. He’d been sitting under a tree, arms wrapped around himself, tears falling from glazed eyes as he stared at nothing. She’d watched him for a long moment, not sure if she should say anything. She watched him wipe at his face roughly, sniffling and then holding himself tightly once more. He’d taken a deep breath, trying to gather himself, but when he’d breathed out again a guttural sob had escaped him, and the pain and sorrow that washed over Yennefer had moved her forward.

He jumped when her hand fell to his shoulder. Blue eyes looked up at her, full of pain and confusion. She’d looked down at him, knowing her eyes were much the same. She pressed her fingers down hard into his shoulder, he didn’t flinch, he didn’t grimace, he just looked up at her, and waited. The bard was lost, utterly. She looked down at him, for only a moment longer, looked into those sad blue eyes, and thought maybe she was lost too.

“Come with me.” She said. It wasn’t an order. Or a request. It simply was. She turned away from him and began walking. She wasn’t sure if he would follow her. Not sure how deep his loyalty was dug into him, even after having his heart ripped out of his chest. She walked, and walked, and walked. For how long she didn’t know, couldn’t remember, didn’t care to. And then she heard footsteps, following her, hesitant at first. And then Jaskier was beside her. His eyes on the ground, arms still wrapped around himself. She looked at him, looked at him so long that he finally looked back. She didn’t smile. She couldn’t. Not yet. She simply reached across the small space between them, took his hand, and opened a portal. They walked through it together, leaving the mountain far behind.

It took him months, to open back up. For the light in his eyes to return. But it had. And Yennefer’s heart beat faster and faster whenever she thought about the fact that she had helped return it there. Her heart hammered stronger when she thought about the other fact, the fact that he’d done the same for her. They’d been traveling. Moving from town to town, helping where they could. Jaskier had a bad habit of firmly reminding her that she’d been doing the helping. He’d simply been playing a song here and there, completely lack luster, and earning them barely any coin. She had taken to firmly reminding him that she was in no need of coin. And if she ever was, she had plenty of ways to get it without using him only for his talents. She tried to ignore the blush that had spread over his cheeks the last time she’d told him so.

She’d been having nightmares for years. As long as she could remember. Since she was a child. They’d come and go. Sometimes she’d go months without them. Pushing herself to exhaustion usually held them at bay. But she’d quickly discovered, during their travels, that Jaskier refused to let her do so. His eyes were so keen. Eerily so, if she was being honest with herself. She wasn’t sure if he’d picked that up from Geralt, she had a feeling it was something innate to him. Just a part of him that he kept hidden, but let it show when he was looking out for those around him. He refused to let her push herself too far. Made sure she was resting, and eating, and drinking. If there wasn’t a… feeling, underneath it, she’d have called it mothering. But it was different. He simply cared. SO much.

She’d woken to his voice one night, not yelling at her, not screaming for her to wake up and stop disturbing him. He’d been holding her close, his deceptively strong arms around her, holding her still. His voice soft against her ear as she struggled and fought the things in her head. She’d calmed, and let him hold her, his arms relaxed, one hand going to her hair. He’d kept soothing her, even smiled at her when she’d looked up at him. He wiped a tear away that she hadn’t known had fallen. She’d stared him for a long time that night, and he let her, uncharacteristically quiet. He let her look at him, and let her pull him closer, dragging his arms back around her as she turned into her pillows.

He’d crawled into her bed the next night, not wanting anything, he’d reassured her. He’d stammered through some explanation about him being there to keep her… calm. Hoping that maybe him being there from the start would keep the screaming away. She’d glared at him for a moment. Narrowed her eyes, tried to detect his intentions, and she’d found, once again, that they were exactly as he stated them. She wasn’t sure she’d get used to that. Had never met someone who almost always said exactly what was going through their head. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. But she’d let him stay, and he’d soothed her before the nightmares had dragged her so far under that she couldn’t breathe, and he’d held her all night to keep them away. Night after night he’d held her, and, slowly, the nightmares had faded, kept at bay by her strange straightforward bard.

And then she’d ruined it. She’d pushed him away. Because try as he might Jaskier could never not pry. It was, unfortunately, in his nature. Where as self preservation, was not. He seemed to lack that all together, in every aspect of his life. He hadn’t even done anything wrong. Not really. He’d been acting out of care, as he nearly always did. All he’d done was ask her about her dreams. Holding her close one night, fingers deep in her hair. And she’d… overreacted. She hadn’t meant too. He’d only asked three times, the last two teasing, not really prying any longer. But she’d snapped at him, pushed him out of bed, and shoved him out the door.

He’d protested, flailing the whole way out. She could hear him standing outside her door. He’d stayed there for almost twenty minutes, softly saying her name a few times before giving up. She sighed and pressed her head against the door, shoulders drooping as she listened to his feet shuffle slowly down the hall.

He doesn’t come to her the next night. Nor any night after. He stays with her, friendly as always during the day. The only thing that changes is their sleeping arrangements, and Yennefer’s mood. The longer he stays away at night, the less she sleeps. The nightmares come back. On several nights, she wakes, having screamed herself awake and clawed herself from sleep, and she swears she hears him, on the other side of her door. But he doesn’t knock. He doesn’t say her name. And he doesn’t stay. She throws herself back onto the bed, berating herself for how sharp her mouth can be.

Two more weeks of no sleep and she snaps at him again. They’d just eaten dinner, the tavern serving a meal that was actually quite good. They’re walking up the stairs, to their separate rooms, when she stumbles. He grabs her elbow and steadies her, guiding her the few more steps to her door.

“You haven’t been sleeping.” He sighs, a statement, not a question.

“And who’s fault is that.” She hissed, brushing hair out of her face with a huff.

“I’m sorry?” Jaskier’s voice is tight, and low. He’s looking at her, his eyes blazing in the low light from the few lanterns lighting the hall.

“You heard me.” She grumbled, grabbing for her key in her pocket. His fingers wrap slowly around her wrist.

“You aren’t seriously blaming me, for you kicking me out, are you?” he’s glaring at her now, and her stomach flutters at the look in his eyes. She pulls her wrist away from him, and he lets her, her wrists slip easily from his fingers. She crosses her arms and looks at him. He raises his eyebrows at her.

“Well? Is that really what you’re implying? That it’s somehow my fault that you kicked me out? Look I’m sorry that I asked you a question about your dreams okay? The gods should strike me down for caring!” he opens his arms dramatically, looking to the ceiling. She bites her lip as she watches him. His eyes fall back to her, his hands fall to his sides, and his body droops, he looks, shy.

“I was just trying to help.” His voice is quiet again after his outburst. His arms go to wrap around himself, she reaches out, hands grabbing his wrists now, not wanting to see him hold himself that way, not because of her.

“I’m sorry I-“ she stops, her throat closing up, she has no idea what she’s supposed to say to him. She’d almost never sure what to say to him, he’s so odd. They have the banter down. Their back and forth is unparalleled across the continent. But this, this seriousness. She doesn’t know how to do it. Not with him.

“What do you want from me?” he whispers it, like he’s afraid to ask it louder. She looks at him, and he looks right back.

“Yennefer? What do you want?” he asks again, shrugging his shoulders, palms wide at his sides. His eyes soften as they look at her. His face so open, like the rest of him. He’s always so open. With everyone. And she’d not been expecting that to carry over to her. But it had, he’d been so open with her, so caring, so trustworthy, even though he’d had no reason to.

“I don’t.. I just…” she sighed, huffing and flailing her hands in frustration, something she’d picked up from him.

“ I-I miss your arms around me when I sleep,” she said, grimacing when she sees Jaskier soften even more, and moves her eyes to the ground.

“I know it’s embarrassing but you- you made me feel safe.” She swallows hard, keeping her eyes away from him. She hears him huff out a laugh and can’t help but look at him. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s… grinning, at her.

“What?” she asks, crossing her own arms, defiance burning in her chest. He snorts again, opens his mouth around a smile and closes it again, shaking his head, his tongue lingering on his teeth as he continues to look at her, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Look. I know how I am, okay? I know that I’m…difficult. And I can be, backwards. And shut off. And-“

“Stubborn.” Jaskier supplies before she’s even done speaking. She levels a glare at him and he steps toward her.

“Pig headed.” He takes another step.

“Is this supposed to be helping?” she asks, her fingers twitching against her ribs. He cocks his eyebrow at her, that grin on his lips making her heart flutter.

“Lovely.” Another step, his hands reaching out, uncrossing her arms gently, removing her last layer of defense. She scoffs at him.

“Kind.” He whispers, pressing into her space, his fingers gently tucking her hair behind her ear, his thumb coming down slowly to trace the line of her jaw. She takes a deep breath, her heart pounding as he looks at her.

“Caring.” The word just a breath against her neck as he presses her to the wall, nosing at her ear, humming when her hands tangle in his hair. She pushes him away, the smallest amount, just enough to reach his mouth, and presses forward.

The kiss is gentle. Softer than she’d expected. She’d seen him with women, and men. She’d seen the hungry way his hands had roamed and clung to them. This was nothing like that. He pressed himself into her, bodily, his hands wrapping around her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. His tongue moved over her lips and she gasped, letting him in with a sigh. She doesn’t know how long he kisses her. She gets lost in him, his hands, his hair, his mouth. All of them hers. She thinks, for a brief moment, that if this is a passing fancy for him, she may not recover. And then he licks into her mouth again, his thigh pressing between her legs, moaning into her mouth as she tugged at his hair gently. And she knows he’s hers. For as long as she wants him, or needs him. He’s hers.

He pulls back, breathing heavily, his forehead resting on hers. She looks at him, his lips red, his eyes shining, and she smiles. He smiles back, sighing again. He crinkles his nose and brushes it against hers with a laugh.

“And sweet too.” He breathes, his hands finding hers, lacing their fingers together.

“Lucky me.” He presses his lips to hers, chastely, opens her door for her, and pulls her through it. The laugh that passes her lips is pulled from her, ripped from behind her ribs by her lovely bard and his shinning ocean eyes.

(((hi also yes i have no confidence like... at all when it comes to sexy things and kissing and such but i’ve written it a few times and seem to get good feedback i hope it’s not awkward or stilted or what have you so i hope its okay!!!!)))

#it might take me a few to get to the geraskier prompt you sent but i'll get there! i have another day off after tomorrow so i'll try and get #humii369 #i seriously cant thank you enough love!!!#you're always so sweet sending things in to me!!!#yennskier #yennskier prompt #yennskier request #request #prompt #requests #my writing

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bonebreakjack · 4 years

Text

What Would Why I Be Without You?

Tenko and Hana take a leap of faith changing their lives for better or for worse. Along the way they uncover many secrets hidden away, try to find their way in life, and deal with their new eccentric roommates and their even more eccentric friends.

But at least their doing it together.

(An AU of what would have happened if AFO hadn't interfered with the Shimura family's lives. (Cause I refuse to believe he had no part in that horror). This is my take of what could have happened via what little we saw of the family.)

Chapter 1: Our New Normal

"Tenko!" The familiar voice of his sister pulled him away from his game of hero with Mikkun and Tomo-chan. His older sister was running towards them with a mischievous smile and then roared. This caused the other two to let out fake shrieks and hid behind him. He was happy his sister finished with her after school studies to play. Dad rarely lets her come out and play since she's the oldest.

"HAHAHA! WE MEET AGAIN HERO!" Hana cackled as she took on a villainous voice making her hands claw like. "This time we shall settle the score and I will be victorious!"

Tenko smirked and threw his arm out and wide with Mikkun and Tomo flanking him. His sister was now floating making her air fly looking like a true lil villain. He didn't have his quirk yet but he knew how his sisters worked. Tomo had speakers in his arms that released little sound blasts and Mikkun had a Afghan hound quirk which made him agile and taller.

"Never fear, for I am here! Your reign of terror ends today villain." Tenko then told Tomo to send out a blast to disorient Hana and he and Mikkun took off right after he did. His sister let out a yelp but quickly flew above them to get the jump on them just like he wanted.

Right in the reach of his hands.

His hands reached for her ankles to pull her down so Mikkun can tickle her into submission. But Hana banked at the last moment to grab Tomo by his armpits and suddenly she was back on the ground and he was floating. She grabbed his ankle during his surprise and swung him like oe. of those athletic women during the Olympics and chucked him right into Tenko and Mikkun.

Tenko wasn't fast enough but held out his arms and caught Tomo and the 3 fell down into a heap groaning. Hana skipped over to the whining pile and out her foot on them crowing in victory.

He looked up to ask for another go after his sister got quiet but frowned when he saw her looking to the side creeped out. Tenko turned his head and saw a tall man watching him, he had never seen that man before around here. The park is usually just the kids.

The man was looking right at them.

Tenko quickly pushed Tomo off despite his complaints and asked if they could go to Mikkuns house for snacks. Everyone agreed even if Mikkun and Tomo didn't know why the Shimuras wanted to leave so suddenly but they didn't question it.

Hana took Tenkos hand but he couldn't help but look back at the smiling man and realized he couldn't see the upper part of his face.

------

'"Tenko….Tenko!"He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head to block out the voice trying to wake him from his slumber and back into this horrid waking hell. He kicked at the voice to leave him be and was satisfied when he was left alone. Slowly feeling sleep reworking to reclaim him Tenko let his guard down and let out a shrill yelp when he was suddenly floating off the coach he was sleeping on.

His vision blurry from sleep he still glared at his older sister face for forcing him up. “You can’t sleep in all day you have class!”

“Why do I have to still go to class? I don’t want to be near those assholes.” The ones who saw him as less than a person, worthless, inhuman. It made Tenko’s blood boil, and now he was awake, cranky. His sister was dressed in her new uniform for High School.

Fuck those bastards, he and Hana left so why does he have to go back to school?

“Cause you're only 13, you still have 5 more years until you can escape an education. Look I know its not ideal, but I tried to find the friendliest reputed school. So you can make friends or at least not be treated like when we where back home.” Hana suddenly looked tired and it painfully reminded Tenko of their current situation. The bags under her eyes from her own restless sleep made him sober up quick.

“.....Fine put me down, I’ll go get ready.” His sister perked up and he was gently dropped back down onto the couch. He stretched out his back and walked to the bathroom with his bag of clothes. Hana went to the kitchen area to finish their lunches and what he could assume breakfast. Tenko felt weird in this apartment, they were staying with someone in the city that he never met before but his sister had. It made him feel uneasy, his skin crawling, he felt like an intruder here.

Wetting his hair and shaking out the black locks, he tried to make some attempt at making it look decent before getting dressed. His new school uniform was made of cheaper material and was dark green instead of the black. In a twist of irony he felt more comfortable in these clothes than his old uniform.

The bag hung from his fingers as he put it next to the couch he had been sleeping on and folded the blanket and pillow putting them away.

Hana was cursing behind him and he quickly went to save their breakfast before it burned. She tends to burn things when she gets stressed. Tenko took the chopsticks from her hands and urged her back to making the lunches. He eyed the amount and realized she was probably cooking breakfast for the other three in the apartment.

Tenko scraped the burning mess into the garbage before restarting the egg omelets filling them with seaweed and cheese. Falling into a rhythm with his sister as they prepped. The other three meals were put into the microwave so they could heat up when they got their asses out of bed. Late time work must be a pain.

“It feels weird.” Tenko murmured to his sister as they ate their breakfast. Their bags ready for school and their lunches tucked away. It felt normal but everything was to out of sorts to feel normal. This wasn’t their home, this wasn’t their usual things, or-

“I know. But it could be the new normal, if we let it. If you don’t feel comfortable I can go look for a job and find a place just for us.” He winced at the thought. A job on top of school and training? Hana would run herself ragged even if he knew she wouldn’t hesitate or regret it. “No this is fine, just until we graduate. We can make do.”

“It won’t be forever, I promise.”

“I know. It just still feels weird, I keep expecting….”He made hand motions as he finished off his meal. Hana nodded and placed a hand over her heart, nervous but excited. “It’s a new life, a new opportunity. I don’t think it's supposed to feel like new normal right out the gate. But we can do it.”

Hana grasped his hand and he gave a gentle squeeze back. They cleaned their dishes and he ignored the butterflies in his stomach which he can’t tell were weary or excited.

Time to make a new normal.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academy #hana shimura #Tenko shimura #shimura tenko #shimura hana #shigraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bonebreakjackwrite #bonebreakjack #bnha #bnha au

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

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Chapter 2: it’s always been you

1 | 2 | 3

Summary: An offhand curiosity leads to Ladybug and Chat Noir riding his baton up as high as it can go. Or, as high as it can go before they get distracted. (It’s just nerves about the height that has Ladybug’s stomach in knots, she swears.)

Chapter summary: Their private party. Two days after Hawkmoth’s defeat, Ladybug comforts Adrien and reveals her identity.

So yeah I guess this is a three-shot now hahaha. The heart wants what the heart wants

XXX

“You’re not joining the party?” Chat—Adrien—asked when Marinette slipped through the hotel room door. He sat on the carpet beneath the window, nearly hidden in the shadow between the wall and the rectangle of sunset spilling in. It felt wrong to see him slouched on the ground and not perched somewhere, like on the king size bed, or the arm of the couch she brushed as she approached him.

“You really think I’d go down there and celebrate while you’re…” She trailed off, not really sure where to go with that. Crying over the fact that we arrested your dad? She knew she could talk about anything with him, but that still felt insensitive.

“Sitting here moping?” Plagg supplied even less sensitively, and she cut him off with a glare. If she hadn’t been suited up, she’d have Tikki go distract the kwami somewhere. But she couldn’t detransform yet, not when she didn’t know if Adrien still wanted her to.

She sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. No claws brushed the back of her hand. Only soft skin, manicured nails at the end of trembling fingers.

“I’d rather be here with you,” she said softly.

He looked up, meeting her eyes with his damp ones. How long had he been here by himself? Well, with Plagg, who for all of his blunt words looked just as worried about his chosen. Of course he would be; the kwami had been Adrien’s only support for the few days he’d been separated from her.

“You’re—you still want to be with me? Even though you know who I am, and you know Hawkmoth’s my...”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” she murmured as lingering tears dripped down his face. “I mean, it’s not okay, nothing he did to you was okay—but it’s not your fault, Adrien.”

She wished she could’ve told him that a thousand times already. Wished it hadn’t been two days since she’d been able to see him alone. Wished she could deck Gabriel Agreste again for how much he’d hurt his son.

But no amount of punching supervillains would erase her boyfriend’s pain.

“Should’ve been stronger,” he mumbled. “I was useless.”

“Hey.” She put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to face her. “No one calls my boyfriend useless.” Besides, it wasn’t even true. Sure, he’d been more reckless than usual—and she’d barely cleansed Hawkmoth’s butterfly before it akumatized him—but he’d given his all to the fight, even knowing it was his father behind the mask.

His lips twitched into something that was almost a smile. “What are you going to do about it? Fight me?”

“Yes.” She put on her most serious face. “I’m going to pin you to this wall and you’re not going to move until you stop blaming yourself.”

A startled snort burst from him. “Trying to threaten me with a good time?”

“Oh—Chat.” Her face burned when she realized how her words had come out. Apparently her ability to embarrass herself in front of Adrien had never completely gone away.

At least he was grinning now. She’d gladly pin him to the wall if that was all it took.

“The point is, you’ve never been useless, Kitty. I was so so proud of you standing up to your… to Hawkmoth like that. I wish I’d had more time to tell you that, before…”

“Before the press basically took me hostage? Not your fault.” He shrugged. “I’m just lucky they didn’t find out I was Chat Noir. And lucky I’m eighteen and they couldn’t try to ship me off to live with Aunt Amalee.”

She shuddered at the thought of that. Particularly considering that would mean he'd be living with his cousin, who she’d be willing to deck in the face a second time. Since Adrien was legally an adult though, once he’d been questioned and cleared as having no knowledge of Hawkmoth and Mayura’s actions in his home, he’d been allowed to stay at the Le Grand Paris. Chloe was making sure he got free boarding, and Marinette had never been more grateful for the girl who used to make her life miserable.

“They wouldn’t. I’d make my parents adopt you first.”

“That’d be hard to pull off, considering we still don’t know each other’s... well, I don’t know your identity, anyway.” He looked down at the carpet, tracing a pattern in it with his index finger. “Sorry for that too. I wanted it to be romantic, not… like this.”

“Again, not your fault.”

She’d been the only one to overhear Chat’s faint cry of “Father?” when Max had located Hawkmoth’s lair below the Agreste mansion. She’d been the one to tell him to hang back, to tell him he didn’t have to fight. But he had fought, even after Hawkmoth nearly akumatized him during the battle. He’d even been the one to hold the villain’s arms behind his back as Marinette tore the butterfly brooch from his throat.

No one else had known why hot, angry tears stained Chat’s face as she did.

And then came the media swarm, and they’d gotten separated as their miraculouses timed out, and… and she’d only been able to visit him surrounded by paparazzi since then. Until she found his room in the hotel while the other miraculous wielders prepared for their celebration in the ballroom below.

“So much for our private party, huh?” He sniffled.

Her face softened at the memory of their promise made while balancing in the sky. Had that really just been three weeks ago? She felt like she’d been dating Chat Noir—Adrien—forever.

“Well… it is just the two of us.” She snuggled into his shoulder, and his arm came to wrap around her middle. “If you don’t want to think about Hawkmoth and everything else right now… we could…”

He looked down at her hopefully. “We could…?”

“You could know who I am,” she murmured. “If it’s not too much for you. I know everything's happened so fast lately.”

“No, my Lady—of course I want to know who you are.” He hugged her tighter, pulling her into his lap. “Nothing would make me happier than the love of my life being by my side through all this, both in and out of our masks.”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.” She brushed a lock of his hair behind his ear, her heart hammering so hard she was sure he could feel it. “You better get used to being glued to me until all of this is sorted out.” Did that sound wrong? This wasn’t something that would just go away; this was his family she was talking about. “I mean, I don’t want to ignore how serious this is. I know you must still be freaked out about your father and everything—”

“Ladybug,” he said softly. His finger pressed against her lips before falling away, his hand tangling with hers. “I’m going to be okay. Really. Maybe I didn’t know he was Hawkmoth, but… you know, I’m not really surprised either.” He winced. “I shouldn’t say that. He’s still my father, but… no, he’s not, not in any way that counts.”

Conflicting emotions played out in his expression before he shook his head. “It’s just complicated right now. But the point is, I still have a family. It’s with you, and all the other heroes downstairs. That isn’t going to change.”

This time, when he smiled, it reached his glistening eyes.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said, her thumb tracing the edge of his cheek where his mask would be. Adrien. Chat Noir. Her partner, her boyfriend, her friend. Who else could handle the truth about his blood family and still smile at her like that?

“I know you are, but what am I?” he teased.

“My kitty.” She kissed his cheek. “My prince.” His nose. “The light of my life.”

He shivered as her lips brushed his jaw. “That’s my line.”

“You’re not the only one who gets to be sappy,” she giggled before finally working her way to his lips.

It felt just as amazing as kissing him for the first time. Maybe more amazing, because she didn’t have to worry about keeping her balance, about plummeting through the sky. He clearly wasn’t worried either, with the way he tilted his head for better access, ran his hands up and down her back, the suit transferring every spine-tingling brush of his fingers.

“Spots off,” she breathed against his lips.

Adrien jumped, nearly knocking his teeth against hers by accident, but she didn’t stop. He’d have plenty of time to stare at her maskless face, whether in shock or… she didn’t know what. Not disappointment; she had too much confidence in his love to fear that. But for now, she just wanted to savor the feeling of his kiss, of knowing that he loved her no matter who she was, of the last few heartbeats before everything changed again.

“Ladybug,” he murmured through her kiss. “You’re killing me.”

She laughed and finally pulled back, leaning her forehead against his. When she opened her eyes, his were still shut.

“You can look now, you know,” she said, heart beating faster. This would be a moment she wanted to save forever.

He opened his eyes, and if she thought he normally stared at Ladybug with a smitten expression—well, the soft arch of his brow as he gazed at Marinette was enough to melt her like butter.

“It’s you.” He laughed, just as brightly as he had that first day in the rain. “It’s you!”

She found herself laughing too, her heart swelling. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“Marinette, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He beamed, and maybe she was a thousand meters in the air again, because she swore she was falling harder for him than ever.

“You—really?” she asked as he peppered her cheeks with kisses. Tingles ran all through her, the way she imagined they would back when she was fourteen. Would there ever be a time when he couldn’t make her come undone?

He stopped his flurry of kisses, only to surround her in a hug again. Maybe they really would be attached at the hip at this point.

She couldn’t say she’d compain.

“Do you have any idea how many times I thought you were—well, you?” he asked, his breath tickling the back of her neck. “You were too good at protecting your identity, but I don’t think I ever stopped hoping. Not really.”

“Even after Multimouse?” She’d been so sure of that one, too. But did he mean he’d really loved her as Marinette this whole time, too?

“Especially after Multimouse. Only you would be amazing enough to be two superheroes at once.”

“Stop it,” she laughed into his shoulder. “My ego will end up as big as yours at this point.”

As big as Chat’s, anyway. It wasn’t until she’d learned his identity that she realized how shallow some of his self-aggrandizing comments were.

“Come on, Bugaboo. You know I only speak the truth.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the fact that Adrien Agreste calls me Bugaboo.” She giggled.

“I hope you don’t expect me to stop. Though I guess I can call you Princess now too.”

“I won’t object to that.”

She smiled, relaxing with her head nestled in the crook of his neck. She was just contemplating the fact that she could now kiss the curve of his collarbone without his suit in the way when Plagg cleared his throat.

“Are you too done being disgusting yet?”

“Plagg!” Tikki crossed her tiny arms. “This is a touching moment for them! You know they’ve been planning this for weeks, even if it didn’t turn out exactly like we expected.”

“Yeah, but at this rate they’re going to miss the cheese platter!”

“Is he always like this?” Marinette asked Adrien, still not making any move to leave his lap.

He chuckled. “Pretty much. Don’t let him fool you though, he actually cares. He knows how much I was looking forward to the party with the rest of our team. You know… before, anyway.”

His gaze grew distant again.

“They’re not going to judge you for being related to Hawkmoth either,” she reassured him with a squeeze of his hand.

She knew they’d be thrilled to see him. Alya at the very least would probably have a heart attack at seeing her OTP of four years finally become “canon.” Nino would go for his and Adrien’s secret handshake. Chloe’s jaw would drop at the fact that she’d talked down Chat Noir so many times before.

“I just don't want them to feel like they can’t celebrate because of me. They’re so happy—they should be happy. If I go down there…”

Of course even after everything he’d been through, he’d still be more worried about everyone else. This was her kitty, who was always the first to comfort akuma victims. Her Adrien, who gave even people like Lila a second chance until they threw it back in his face again and again.

“Hey. This is our team we’re talking about. They’ll want to be here for you.”

“But…” he sighed, slumping a little to rest his chin on her shoulder. “It’s going to be so weird. I just want them to treat me like they always treat Chat.”

“You can always transform back if you want,” Marintte said, ignoring Plagg’s disappointed groan. “No one says you have to reveal yourself. Plagg and Tikki can go down and get some treats now, and then we can suit back up and join the party afterwards.”

“I… yeah, we could do that. That sounds good,” he said softly. “You always have the best ideas, Marinette.”

Her face warmed at the honest praise. She nodded towards Tikki and Plagg, who smiled before zipping through the floor towards the ballroom.

“I just want you to be comfortable.”

He adjusted her on his lap so that she was sitting perpendicular to him, her legs stretched out over the side of his thighs. “I’m very comfortable right now, my Lady.”

“Me too.”

Even if they just sat holding each other for the whole duration of the party, she would’ve been happy. His breaths tickled her cheek, making it difficult to resist kissing him again. But just being here with him, with no walls or secrets between them, was just as sweet.

“Hey, Princess?” he whispered just when she was wondering if he’d fallen asleep.

“Yeah?”

His nose brushed the curve of her jaw.

“I love you.”

Her heart jolted. He was her boyfriend; she’d heard him say those three words almost every day since she’d accidentally confessed to him. Hearing him say it while detransformed shouldn’t have such an effect on her.

(But it did. Oh, it did.)

“I love you too, my Prince.”

Her resistance broke. His lips still tasted of the saltwater he’d cried, and she was determined to remove it even if it took a hundred kisses. He’d asked for that, right? His breath filled her lungs like helium, making her feel lighter than air. She could only hope she had the same effect on him.

(If they were even later to the party than she expected, well, they’d had more important things to do anyway.)

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #adrien agreste #love square #fic tag #tali writes #if you fall (know i've got you)

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angelfire115 · 4 years

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Part 41 (I did this out of curiosity, then I did it for the fame and now, I do it because I enjoy it)

Alastor raced through the streets and alleyways of hell. Using his shadow abilities to make himself fly through them with ease. Passing, surprising and knocking over people and more. But he didn't care, he needed to get there as fast as possible, maybe then he'll fix his mistake. When he finally made it to the location, he flew up to the top where Vox and Valentino were waiting.

When he made it, the first to catch his eye was the maiden tied to a chair. For sure, it was Charlie, in his mind he cursed himself for his carelessness but his heart burned in hatred towards the two who dared lay their fingers on her. Alastor: "Vox, you wanted to see me". His teeth scraped against each other as he said his vile name. Vox and Valentino turned to the sound of his voice while the girl perked up.

Vox smiled in amusement, he was finally here, the man who humiliated him and has never won a battle against. Well at least he's never won any either. Vox: "Ah, look who finally showed up, ready for a rematch Alastor". He said his name in such a sickly way, the girl shuddered. The two stared each other down, the tension was so thick and strong, you could see the waves of their anger and hatred emit from their bodies.

Valentino took a step back, leaving it all to him as he stood close by their hostage. Vox ran to Alastor at full speed, his hands glowing a bright blue as he readied an attack. When he tried to hit, Alastor jumped over his foe and landed swiftly behind him. Vox turned to slash at him over and over again, each slash becoming faster then the next. Besides a small nick to his right shoulder, Alastor was able to dodge the rest.

He jumped back again, being cornered at the edge of the building which gave Vox a hideous smile. He slammed his hands to the ground sending energy pulses into it till the ground shattered, half the building was gone to Valentinos dismay but he expected dramatic damages. When the smoke cleared Alastor was nowhere to be seen. Vox decided to claim victory and walked towards his friend.

Suddenly though, Alastor jumped up, towards his foe, landing on top of him and pinning him to the ground. Alastor: "You will regret facing me again, Vox". A whistle was heard that caught Al's attention, Val snarky grin could be seen but he also was leaning behind his hostage, holding her neck up as he held his claw against her throat. The girl whimpered, her body shook, he could see her tears. Shocked by this, his grip loosened and Vox jumped back, hitting Alastor in this face, sending him flying.

Alastor was disoriented and tried to get up but failed as Vox kicked him in the stomach, so hard, blood started curdling out of his mouth. Vox grabbed his hair lifting it up to face him. Vox: "Those words were mine to say, radio demon". He lifted his hand, extending his claws. Alastor watched in dismay, a sad pathetic face crossed it but his smile was still there. At least, he was still smiling.

In a sudden flash of red and black, mixed with feathers and fur, Alastor dropped to the floor. Vox let him go and he was still alive. Alastor rose up, trying to get to his feet but it was a struggle. Husk: "Come on you idiot, get up, I didn't f***ing come here to see your sorry a** die like this". Alastor was surprised to hear his voice, Husk, he knocked Vox away just in time. Alastor got up, he was a bit weak but he wasn't out of the game.

Alastor: "Husker, I'm surprised to see you". Husk scoffed, he didn't exactly seem thrilled to be there. Husk: "whatever I'm only here cause I was bribed". Husk got ready for a fight, lifting his wings, extending his claws, sharping his teeth and puffing up his fur. Alastor readied himself too. Valentino could see how this could be an unfair fight, two against one, even if Vox was a top demon, he wouldn't win. He decided to let himself join the show after all.

He let go of the girl and walked to Vox, helping him up. Valentino whispered into his ear. Valentino: "Let me give you a hand". A burst of pink light then shone from Valentino which extended to Vox, it was one of his special abilities. A boost he can give to certain people who he trusts, this boost heals the person and allows them to have a boost of energy and power. Vox eyes shot wide open, a satisfied smile crept on his face, this was just what he needed.

This was now turning to a 2 Vs 2 battle which, everyone watching loved. All around the building were flying drones recording everything which was then broadcasted to TVs all across hell. Even everyone at the hotel was watching. The only one who couldn't see what was going on was Tia, the bag on her head blocked her view, she could only listen now.

Vox impatience won him over as he was the first to make a move, both Husk and Alastor dodged as he flew past. They looked to Val as he stood summoning what looked like giant pink hearts, the hearts started charging up, shooting laser like blasts at them. They dodged and dodged and dodged when the blasts stopped, they stopped but the smoke made it harder to see. Not that they needed to see to know where everyone was.

Tentacles spurt out from the smoke, Alastor showing his terrifying demonic form. He sent the tentacles flying in every direction, he made sure to avoid the girl and Husk, not that it was difficult since Husk just flew above them. The tentacles were able to slash at Valentino's arm but for Vox, he was somehow able to dodge any coming in his direction. Valentino gripped at his arm, the pain being almost unbearable.

A staticed laugh could be heard as the smoke cleared. Alastor stood near the rubble, he walked towards the two, his smile deviant as ever, his eyes bleeding red and his antlers now grown to an extraordinarily huge level. Husk landed behind him, watched him work his terrifying magic. Alastor: "In normal circumstances I would say what a fabulous show this was but...". The statics grew, his symbols bursting from his body, Husks wings extending and the light shining behind made their hearts stop. Alastor: "Taking something that is mine, never amuses me".

His static grew more as he was about to take the final blow. ??: "ALASTOR!". The sound of his name being shouted caught his attention, he looked to the presumed Charlie. Before he could do anymore, Val reached into his pocket and through down a smoke bomb. When it cleared, they both disappeared to Alastors disliking. But he didn't have time, he sighed, relaxing himself. He walked to the girl, his eyes lowered, his smile wavered and his hands behind his back. He reached to remove the bag but as he did, he was surprised over what he saw.

Tia, finally being able to see, looked to her red friend, shock coming over his face. She smiled to him, she was tired but alright. Alastor however was speechless. Husk: "You left before they revealed her face, you really are a f***ing idiot". Alastor stood in disbelief, he honestly thought it was Charlie, with the bag on, no one else could tell.

Tia tipped her head in confusion, what was he an idiot about? Before she could ask, a giant blue ball of energy flew to them. Tias' eyes widened, in that second, she broke from the rope and flew past Alastor and Husk. She spread her wings and summoned a ball of dark energy, spreading it into a shield. On impact, the blue blast dispersed and she lowered herself.

When she placed her feet to the ground she looked to Alastor and Husk who stared at her, startled over her amazing act. She smiled sheepishly at the two. Tia: "Hehehe guess he wanted one last shot, heh". Alastor looked to her in a curious way but shook it away and walked to her. Alastor: "What a spectacular show my dear, I didn't realise you that kind of strength". He smiled to her while holding her side which unnerved her a little. Alastor: "Shall we return to the hotel? You must be exhausted from all of this".

Tia looked to him surprised, she's exhausted? Tia: "What about you? You fought off two of them". Alastor: "Well it's thanks to Husk I did, great job my friend , wouldn't have pulled it off without you, hahaha, reminds me of old times". Husk rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and started walking away. Husk: "Whatever, I'm going back, had enough of this sh** already". With that, he took to the skies as Alastor and Tia watched him go. Alastor: "Hehehe, shall we go then?". Tia nodded in response. The two heading towards the nearest exit, wanting nothing more then to leave this now ruined place.

(Reminder: I do not know of Voxs personalityor abilities, sane goes for Valentino. Just all made up in ma head 😜)

#hazbin hotel #charlastor #alastor #Tia OC #Husk #Valentino #Vox #fanfic #oof #well that's the end of that #it really was funny to me when he realised he wasn't fighting for the right person 😂😂#also thanks to the person who reminded me that Valentinos name is spelt like that #part 41 #heartbeat

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