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josibunn · 6 months

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euronymous x black!goth/metal reader

oooh yay I love this!! i’m finna go crazy thank u anon ^3^!!

this is so late i’m so sorry anon!! i’ve been in and out of the hospital, trying to get requests in as fast as I can. give me more black readers tho! and thank u sm for 210 followers!!euronymousxblack!goth reader, smut obvi, very public sex, euro notices you, a FAN, at his gig, and then at his after party and just can’t stop thinking about you. fingering, handjob sorta blowjob, euronymous exhibits his true strength in this one🤫.

tl: @vanlisbon @culkineater @monkeyfart @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @u1traer0tic @auggiethecreator @bluemercy2

(I actually LOOOVE the mustache on r!euro)

you caught his eye the moment he stepped on stage. boom, there you were, middle of the pit, waiting on him with a cigarette in hand. his chest caved in, no way you were looking at him like that. looking like that. he choked when his mate nudged him, snapping him out of his gaze with you before introducing his band, pointing to the crowd but his eyes still glued to you, and you smirked, a little giddy.

his eyes followed yours as you move up close to the stage with a friend, staring up at him admirably before getting into what you were actually there for, the music, bobbing your head and your hair going crazy as they played. and he watched all of it, the way you and whoever you came with jumped with each other, rock hand in the air, your braids and their fro colliding into each other.

you ended up moving up further, so close you could almost touch his boot. the song comes to an end and the crowd roars, but euronymous puts his arms in the air and shushes everyone.

he steps closer and crouches down, looking right at you. he takes your cig from your hand and steals a hit, motioning for everyone around you to shut up as you stare at him and he blows the smoke to the side, eyes focused on you. “what’s your name,” he leans in, poking your forehead with a two finger touch.

you giggle a little as you say your name with a head tilt, and he nods. he steals another drag before putting it back in your mouth, taping your cheek before walking back, pushing Varg away from the mic and grabbing it. “this one goes out to her,” he points at you and you smile. “[y/n].” the crowd goes up as euronymous shoved him back the mic, starting off the song, and you were lucky you had a unique name, no one else would feel that joy but you.

* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*༺♡༻ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the show ends and you’re pushing your friend into the car, “we’re not staying??” they ask. “you kiddin’? mayhems having an after party, they’re literally leaving right now. you saw that shit back there, i’ve GOT to meet him!!”

you’re driving off quickly, holding the flier as you drive the route to his shop, adrenaline pulsing through your body. you were so so close, he took your cigarette. that’s basically an indirect kiss!!

“you’re fuckin’ delusional,” hell hammer says as euronymous sets up and cleans the den. “damn right, but you weren’t lookin’. her eyes were on me the whole time, she wants me.” he boasts. “and she had this sexy stare and her skin..ooh,” he moaned, shaking his head as he kept thinking about you. you flooded his head, he really hoped youd be there tonight. “i’ll show you, promise you that.”

and you showed up, a little under late since you couldn’t find your way, and of course, the place already crowded. you walked in, fixing your lipstick as you searched around with your eyes, not seeing euronymous anywhere. you almost lose hope.

“is that him?” your friend points, making you shoot up. it was. you see him talking to some bleached blonde girl in bright red leather, although he seemed pretty uninterested. you knew he didn’t like groupies. “i look good?” you smooth your dress down and fix your jacket, fixing your hair. you made sure each braid or edge or curl was in their correct spots.

“so good, go get that pale bird body di-” “you’re an asshole,” you walk off near where he was, scanning over the records he had set up, although you already knew them. and your planned worked, because he immediately stopped whatever he was talking about when he saw you, checking out the store. his store. he grabbed hellhammer, pointing at you.

“that’s her?” he asks. “hell the fuck yeah, told you she was hot.” euronymous nodded. the girl scoffed, looking your way with disgust. “you gonna talk to her?” hellhammer watch euronymous fix his jacket, nodding.

she scoffed again, “what-what about the pictures?” she called, but he ignored as he walked up to you, YES. “hey, you.” he says beside you, and you smile. “almost left, didn’t think i’d find you.” you say. “i’m glad you came, you like the shop?” he runs his fingers over yours that lingered onto a stack of records, making you flush.

“yeah, got some real good shit, i’m impressed.” “yeah,” ooh he likes that, especially coming from a pretty thing like you. “only the best, from all around the world. been plannin’ it for years. you liked the show?” “mhm, me and my friend are huge fans, we’ve been to a lot of these but never to an after party of yours.” his gaze was breaking you down to bits; looking at you with such hunger, like a little lamb. not even breaking eye contact for a second.

“i’m glad. I liked you there too,” he says and you try to hide your smile, struggling to keep eye contact. “oh yeah?” you were internally giggling as his lips upturned to a smirk, nodding. “you’re..gorgeous. couldn’t even play right with you lookin at me like that.” you didn’t even notice that he was much closer and much quieter, practically in your ear. you were pulsing, aching for him.

“you probably tell that to all your little groupies,” you taunt close to his cheek, running a nail down his exposed bicep, god was he toned, sex scenes of you two flashed into your head so quickly you thought you could moan out loud. “don’t have any fucking groupies, none of these girls here compare to you, you know that.” you heated up again, god was he fueling your ego. “you wanna..it’s loud, can barely hear you.” you faux pout, and that was sorta true, but you wanted him alone.

“yeah, cmon, you can put your jacket up.” you follow him, stepping into a dark room with a desk and futon. he flips on a lamp on the desk as you look around and take off your jacket, a breeze brushing over your exposed shoulders since your little dress was strapless but you weren’t worried about it. you heard him close the door, “want a cigarette?” you ask when you turn around to him, and his eyes trail up your figure, biting the skin off his lip before shaking his head.

“later,” is all he says before grabbing your hips, smashing his lips onto yours into a kiss, making you yelp and drop your jacket. you bring your hands up to his face as you kiss back, feeling his hands tightly explore your lower half, smacking your ass in a grab and pulling you closer to his body.

he kneads at the soft flesh as he pulls up your dress, grinding against your tummy, and you gasp, feeling his hard on. no way euronymous, evil incarnate, death personified, got hard from just kissing, or rather just looking at you. fuck.

you slip your hand between where his bulge and your tummy meet and palm him through his jeans, making him groan in your mouth. his hand ran up the curve of your spine and to the back of your head, deepening the kiss. you pull away and trail kisses down his jaw and to his neck, and his head rolls over for you almost like an instinct.

he bites his lip to silence a groan as your teeth rub over that sweet spot that could crumble him in minutes, sucking and biting at the flesh. “fuck,” he rasps, licking his lips as he wraps the ends of your braids around his fist, yanking your head up, making you choke back a moan.

he backs you up against the wall in a kiss, his slender fingers finding your pussy as if they were magnets for each other, rubbing you roughly. you moan out and he slips his tongue in your mouth, your black lipstick getting all over his pale face and marking him, along with your shared drool in each other.

he rubs hard circles on your clit and yanks your head back by the hair he still had in his grasp, watching you moan into the air with hard, fogged over eyes and a parted mouth, breathing your air in. “euro-..” you try to moan, too focused on the pressure he was putting on your clit, brows furrowed.

but this isn’t what you came to do. you wanted to please him, and maybe take him all the way in you a little down the line if he granted you worthy. “n-no, no,” you shake your head and push his hand away, and he falters. “no?” he breaths, watching you push him away and get to your knees, eyes glued to the bulge in his ripped jeans.

“oh?” he mumbled as you fumble with his belt and button, palming him before pulling him out in the second. you look up at him with doey asking eyes, pumping his cock that was inches away from your lips.

you gather spit on your tongue before you lick the underside of his cock, and you hear him shudder, brows furrowing and eyes closing as his head tilted back a bit, “o-oh. oh.” he nods as you kiss his tip, him already holding the back of your head.

you wrap your lips around his cock, taking him slowly and stroking what you had since he was so big. he bit his lip, watching your lips stretch around his cock as you inched it all into your mouth, some of your lipstick getting around his base.

“oh god, oh god,” he moans, eyes glued on you the each time you take his dick into your pretty mouth, and oh those eyes, he could cum alone from the way you dont break eye contact.

“aren’t you a pretty fuckin’ thing, god damn,” he groans, holding the back of your neck as you swallow his length, drool getting on the hand that was fucking his cock as you hallow your cheeks and suck what was left, his tip dragging against your flat tongue.

that action made him groan out, hissing back some drool as his eyes shut. hitches if his breath and little gasps could be heard from his parted mouth as you sped up, globs of spit and pre cum dropping onto the floor, and your eyes never leave him, of course.

why would they? you’ve been wanting this for so long, you’d be stupid to not cherish every second. the way his head rolls over onto his shoulder, his fluttering long lashes, his glistening pink lips, his muscles that tensed up. for someone so against religion, he looked like a god.

“you’re so fucking good, ‘know that? what the fuck,” he whimpers the last bit as he takes your head in both hands. was he…in awe? at how good you were to him? you almost giggled. you choke back in surprise as he stops your actions and thrusts into your mouth, grabbing into his jeans and peering up at him, only to be met with his low, uncoordinated gaze.

he grabs your hair in two parts and forces your head up, your eyes rolling back as he fucks your throat with eagerness, shoving you down to match him. “oh fuck yes, fuuuck yesss,” he rasps, shaking his head as he pants, watching your black lipstick plant kisses to his base, and paired with the nasty noises your throat made each time he slid in, it almost even sounded like a kiss.

“fuck, fuck m’gonna cum, fuckfuckfuck,” he groans, holding your head down as he cums inside your mouth, breathing heavily as he watches you blink away tears that roll down your cheeks now. he pulls you off and some of his cum gets on your cheek as you swallow, still holding his pants.

“that’s a fuckin’ sight,” he chuckled in a pant as he wipes it off, and you hold his thumb to lick it up, eyeing him the whole time. he smirks as you huff, wiping your tears.

“did I do good?” you ask as he tucks a braid out of your face and behind your ear. “tuh-you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he smacks his lips, and that’s a good enough answer as he pulls you up and shoved his lips onto yours, backing you against the door once again.

“gonna let me see that pussy?” he whispers, pulling up your dress as he deepens the kiss, and you nod frantically. “p-please, want you to,” you whimper. “oh yeah?” he rubs you through your underwear, letting out a low mmmmm, feeling just how wet you are for him. for him.

“fuckin’ dyin’ for it, huh?” he taunts as you squeak, grabbing his bicep. “wanted this for so long, y’don’t even know.” you babble, and he’s soaking in this feeling, drowning in it. this feeling of someone so desperate for him and him only.

“tell me. tell me how long you’ve wanted it baby,” he smiles against you, his fingers slipping under your underwear. “went to your first gig,” you pant. “and every one after that. watch you all the t-time. got pictures, n’ shirts, and-awe!!” you moan out when he pushes his thick fingers in you, deep. you stand on your toes, trying to push some of the length out, but he just thrusts them deeper, and you moan more.

“you’re gonna get it baby, don’t worry. don’t fuckin’ worry.” he’s attacking your neck, littering hickeys all over you as he drills his finger into you. “prettiest girl i’ve ever seen here, know that? like, fuck,” he’s licking his lips as he kicks your legs open so more, curling them inside of you and prodding that sweet spot, watching how your face contorts as he does so.

“where you been all this time, hm?” he taunts in your ear, smirking at how you squeal and squirm against him, hand on his chest, grabbing his shirt as you moan out. “‘ronymous, please. need you so bad.” you pout, pulling at the waist band of his boxers.

he bites his lip and shakes his head, not wasting time and pulling his throbbing hard cock out. he picked you up onto his arm and keeps you steady in the air, making you gasp. how was his lil ass holding you up so damn effortlessly?

he repositions you and puts you against the door, between your legs, and your needy eyes are on his as he slides into you, making you gasp. you moan as he smirks, eyes squeezed shut and nails gripping his biceps, feeling you clench around him at the sudden fullness, your toes curling.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet baby, I love it,” pushes his chest against yours and latches his lips against your lips as he listens to your whimpering as he slowly thrusts into you, and god you’re so reactive already. your legs hooked around his body, nails digging into his shoulders, breath heavy.

“this good? you feelin’ ok?” he coos, speeding up, and you moan out again. “yes, yes fuck it’s so good, r’so big,” you pant, and he grips your thighs as he groans, brows knit together.

“yeah? is it what you expected baby? what you dreamed of?” he’s being so cocky, a GRAND smirk on his face as he listens to you come undone before him. “better. so much fucking better,” you whine, and you were right. it was 100x better than anything you’d ever dream or imagine when you touch yourself.

“damn fuckin’ right,” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes before choking out a moan as his tip brushes against a spongey, sensitive spot that has your eyes rolling back. it wasn’t..often…that a man found that spot, so you went crazy when he did. and he found it so damn fast.

“oh!—gasp—o-oh!” you moan high and guttural, eyes locked on his eyes and your brows raise to the sky, holding onto his body. you’re nodding, asking for more, but more of what?

“what baby?” hes mocking your nods, “is that it, huh?” he spreads your legs more and pushes his body closer, sinking way deeper as he slowly rocks into you, slamming that spot, and you moan out again, nodding more frantically now. “that’s it, pretty girl?” he’s nodding as he speeds up, knocking into you, and you’re squealing like a bitch in heat. probably louder than the music that was just behind the door you were against.

your moans tie in with each heavy thrust, they’re coming from your gut and you’re pulling and grabbing at everything, his shirt, his hair, his skin, all of it. and he’s loving it, you’re so fucking desperate. couldn’t even believe he had the privilege to make you feel so good.

“my-fucking g-god ‘ronymous,” you’re shaking, each drag of his cock killing your vocals. “so fucking good, yer’ so fucking good,” you’re wailing, mouth slack.

“give it to me. give it to my euronymous p-please,” you say desperately your release just over your shoulder as you pull at his hair. he groans, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping your thighs.

“oh i’m gonna give it to you baby,” he puts you onto the floor, and your legs are like jelly until he turns you around and pushes your cheek against the door, pushing your back down and spreading your legs. his rough hand grips the fat of your ass as he slides back in, making you moan out at the new feeling the new position gave you.

he wasted no time, pulling your hair back by your braids and fucking you with all his might, bruising that sweet spot. you’re a mess, choking and sputtering on your own words. “so good, so good ‘ronymous,” you whimper, tears welling in your eyes as you hold onto the door, feeling your orgasm rush over you, your toes curling in your boots and your mouth falling slack, unable to moan anymore.

“so fucking tight baby, fuckin’ love it,” he sighs, watching the white ring form around the base of his stained cock. he bit his lip, getting lost in the recoil of your ass against him, not to mention the nasty clap of skin each time he pumped himself full of you. he almost drooled, actually.

“so perfect, gonna milk me dry,” he groans, pushing your back down even further and yanking your head back, your hair wrapped around his fist. he was taking everything from you, he knew it. “gonna make me cum gorgeous,” he glided his hand up your throat as he buries his head in your neck, planting soft kisses, and you whine at the intimate contact.

“feel so fucking good, wanna make you feel good,” you whine, holding onto his arm that was propped against the wall. his eyes rolled back, you were pushing him over the edge. he pushed your hand against the door and intertwines his with it, brows furrowing and mouth falling open, whimpers flying off his tongue.

“god i’m gonna cum, you feel so fucking good i’m gonna cUm,” he gasps, gripping your hand tighter now. he wraps both arms under your stomach, his cheek laying on the top of your head. he’s gasping and stuttering as he cums inside of you, sighing a deep breath and your breathing slowly matches each others.

“did I hurt you? is..is your head ok?” he says through pants as he slides out, and the cool air against your exposed pussy makes you shiver. “m’ok, what do you mean my head?” you look back, wiping your face. “well the door, n your h-er-your braids, I was pretty mean.” he pulled up his pants and lifts you into his arms, making you gasp in surprise. “no, it’s ok. did my..nails hurt you?”

“sorta. I liked it though,” he carries you to his little futon and lays you down, using some old shirt to clean you up and sliding your underwear back on. you lay with him, with his leather jacket on (😛) and talk for a few, exchanging numbers and some more little kisses before you left with him and regrouped with your friend, passing euronymous’ friends in the process.

this was so fun lol

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #x black reader #euronymous smut #lords of chaos #euronymous #lords of chaos smut #eurory prompt

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howtokill8sporesandarabit · 2 years

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Tentacle smut , mentions of furries minors DNI. Shark boys, monster f*ck1ng, hardcore, uncensored, insane sex, long dick, noncon enjoyment, prisoner play, mentions of m & f parts on mc, orgy, 5mx1mc, not for general audiences. Slight homophobia, rushed.DNI MINORS

Skip the foreplay head 2 the smegsy .. bad writing but u can ignore it if u..

barely proof read btw .. u can also ignore it if u..

His tentacles dragged my figure around the wispy ocean, only my muffled screaming the only sound heard for miles. I knew i couldn’t leave. abandon even the thought of leaving the thought of getting away. was slowly fading from my mind.

I held my breath, and rather than in a desperation to leave, I was trying to flail my arms away from the tentacles, tightly suctioned on my cold skin to hold my palms over my mouth, I knew I could breath. It was human instinct.

“I’m so afraid, I can’t escape, will I see my family again? Will they believe me? Can I go free alive, will my limbs be intact. Could I even face this beast? Surely I’ll go free. I need to, but can I now?”

Useless thoughts flowed endlessly like a river in my mind. My limbs had gone numb from the tight gripping of the tentacles,

I winced in pain.

“I winced?” Words had came out of my mouth. Suddenly the word felt still. The tentacle beast spoke to me, in a

Raspy.. coarse voice, so deep it trilled like crazy. Which was hilarious.. How could a voice be so raspy, we were in the ocean, He’s so dehydrated. But I should wake to the real world, I can’t find something funny especially towards my kidnapper. Not in this situation.

“Why are you doing this? What’ve I done?” I whimpered as I shouted, trying my hardest to be pitiful for the slimmest chance it’ll let me go.

“Agh, You bastard… did you even listen to me speak.. You only asked more without regard..” The tentacles tightened, a scream came out of me. “I’m sorry, it’s a stressful… Ngh!” I felt something around my asshole. “I’m sorry! I’m so- Mphhhh!” a tentacle suddenly went into my throat, violating me. “Shut up! Shut up!” The tentacle beast had said, immaturely. He grunted a terrible amount, it was turning me off, slowly..

The tentacle came out my throat , leaving me more breathless than I already was. “Ugh.. just shut up.. Don’t talk till I say so.” I was afraid, isn’t this rape ? This was always hot when I masturbated to rape.. I guess it’s scary. When I get home I’ll stop. I should grow morals.

Quickly, we arrived to a pocket of air in a huge underwater cave. “Get on your knees.” He said as his tentacles got off my eyes. He was handsome.. wait.. what? This is Stockholm. Shut up you sick ass. I slapped myself “Why are you taking so long, get on your knees.” He said demandingly. Tentacles came from his back. Long black shiny hair streaked from his face, slit eyes, thick lips a perfect nose and great cheek bones. A massive dick too. I gulped hardly, getting on my knees, on the black sheets. “Suck it.” Huh? What? Suck it? This gay bastard… “Ngh!” A sensation I felt when a tentacle was shoved in my little throat happened again. His huge veiny hands had pushed down on my head. “Gah! Ngh!” I was out of breath. “You’re shit at this, the shrimps in the sea do better at this than you. Did I overestimate humans?” He slapped my ass, hard. “Mmm! Ahh! Ngh.. ha…” I moaned, I came, and enjoyed this. “Yes.. yess.. more!. ahh!” I mumbled. “What did you say? Louder.” “..I said I wanted more..” shamefully, my head went redder than it already was. “Is that so now? He slapped my ass more, tentacles entered my ass, and his long 20 inches has entered me. “I’ll allow you to speak.” I gulped.. “Thank you…?” “It’s master.” “Thank you master!” I said nuzzling my head onto the sheets. Whoring like the bitch I was. “You’re such a cute lil bitch.” He slapped my ass, gripped my back and dragged me onto his lap. He held my waist, and swung me up and down, my belly inflated like Avalon! This crazy. I couldn’t move. His tentacles were holding me from movement, with my arms now in the air I felt embarrassed from my tits showing to him, as I rode his long.. inhumane penis. “Fuck! Fuck! Yes!” My eyes reached so high, my tongue out and drooling. His dick reached my G spot, it felt like he had entered my belly. “Your man pussy, damn tight!” He started choking me, “Ahm… ugh… shit! You got tighter… you’re so slutty!” And as he cream pied my man pussy he let go, his tentacles freed, and I stretched my man pussy with my fingers. “Cream-pie me more master!” “I can‘t. I don’t like needy bitches bunny. I’ll call my friends to gang fuck you instead bunny.” “G..gang fuck? Alright master..!” I said, although I was afraid it was what I wanted.. “Wait 10 minutes bunny. They’re quite speedy.” Gulp..

Suddenly, a group of men who resembled sharks with their muscular and dominating presence barged in. A man with dark brown hair asked “This your bitch? He’s small.” And chuckled. He was At least 9ft tall.. 5’7 was totally normal for a.. oh it’s not.. still! I wasn’t small..

He suddenly gripped my by the chin and made me face him, since I was distraught by my thoughts “Wipe your ass bunny, they’re gonna fuck you hard.” “Yes master!” Enthusiasm bloomed from my voice, I took a cloth and wiped my ass in a small crevice of the cave. My head had gone numb! I new it’s stupid to accept but gangbang!

A red haired man, who looked outgoing also exclaimed. “He looks so tight, to make the so stubborn Kiel cum, insane. Or have you gone sensitive! You can be my bitch instead Kiel!” Then was suddenly air punched, he seemed talkative. And the annoying type too.. I found out it’s Kiel. Kiel is masters name !

And a man with mid length hair and white hair with blue ends said, “Looks great, look at his slapped ass.. subby.” He was a great contrast to that red haired over sharer.

a man of few words. Then 2 more spoke, a cheeky prideful blonde aswell as a sly looking man with green-ish hair.

“Is that really a man? Looks damn feminine…” Which was… offending. “This boy? Is he into bondage? The most important question.” …. I don’t want to fuck this green man. He doesn’t seem good.

“ Bunny, are you done?” “Yes master!” I gulped, as the men took their pants off, shirts off and showed their big not-stiff shlongs. Is that really not hard? It’s massive. Bigger than my feet… and it’s a size 13! “Crawl here bunny, and spread your legs.” I heard murmuring, “Those clean bare legs..” “Nice tits!” “Kinky.” “How adorable.” “Looks edible!” It was surely shameful…

2 men came up to me, and put restraints on my legs. The red haired man whispered, “I’m Samuel, nice to know you.” A cold seductive tone, which was a starling contrast to his fiery tone of speech. And simultaneously long slender fingers traced my stomach, “Ngh..” a light moan came out of my mouth. “I’m Ivette, sweetheart.” Ivette pinched my nipples as he licked my milkers with his big, monster-slender tongue which made me moan.

the green haired man whispered aswell. Chills ran down my spine, I gulped hardly. I heard a box rip, and out came sex toys, vibes and an injection.. probably an aphrodisiac.. They seem experienced. A lot of these items come from land. We’re deep underwater.. which makes this more fearful, could these beasts also be hiding in land. “Ngh!” I was lost in thought, 3 vibrators were placed in my ass, 2 on my dick and 5 on each man breast.. Aggh! Mph! I felt a sharp pain in my dick, and hole! They were syringing lube and aphrodisiac in my rectum and urethra ! No way no way! I felt sensitive to the point the breeze had me jizz!

“When did my masters do- mph!” The white and blue haired man was called Park-yeonwo. A Korean? To think we’re the same- “Ahhh! Oh! Ngh!” 2 massive schlongs fucked me, railed me, 2 people on each breast sucking, my masters tentacles suctioned around me, my masters dick shot in my mouth! Its like my gag reflex is gone! My head is insane! All their cum is delicious! This overstimulation was too much! “Fuck fuck fuck!” Their eyes squinted and their eyebrows furrowed! It was so hot, steam filled the room, their fuckin massive schlongs defiled me! My moans defiled the oceans! My cum sprayed like a fucking fountain! I shot shot and shot! My belly inflated with the massive dicks in me! My head fogged with the sound of sucking, my sweet virgin ass was fucking slapped abused and raped! “I’m being impregnated !!!impregnated !!!impregnated!!!!” FUCK!!! I came on that sly man’s face, I was avoiding it… shit shit shit! He turned all the vibes up to max, laughed and slapped my ass, thee rest followed and slapped too!!! Ngh! Ngh! Ngh! Ahhh! Ahh! Aghh! I heard moans everywhere, from all 5 of them! All 5! I’m afraid but ♡don’t want to leave! Please make me cum more daddies! The three of them thrusted inside me while screams of love filled the whole room ! ♡ They came into my womb and.. mph! Next thing I knew I passed out with my eyes rolled up, with cum spewing on both ends.. shameful.. “Ah he passed out.” “Seriously? It wasn’t that intense anyways, boring.” “Humans are so weak..” “No, we’re just the strongest of our tribes.. dunce.” “Whatever, chain him up. Let’s bring him to land.” Chains bolted on my legs, I was shoved in a suitcase. “Mph! Mmpph!” I woke up on a bed, in a huge room bigger than my home. It had tinted glass windows all over, yet had the things of a sex dungeon. I should wake up though, not the time to admire my surroundings.. after all. My slutty ass got myself into this by masturbating in the ocean..

“You bastards! Let me go you rapists!” I exclaimed but The smirks on their face showed that they wouldn’t.. I was treated like a sex sleeve! … “Let me rest you…” They showed a disappointed look on their face, yet murmured together and eventually let me off for a few minutes, they handed me water to drink after my throat was dry from all the deep throating and Moaning.. During my “break” I remembered how I acted while they fucked my bones out. Mind breaking.. How did I succumb so fast!? How embarrassing! It’s a bit.. overwhelming how they’re staring at me from above the bed, and shoving water down my throat.. sigh. This has got to be a nightmare, if I fall asleep I’ll wake up.

I dozed off, slowly, and had such a good rest. “Ngh.. Ngh… Ahh!” I heard a moan escape from my lips, “Already awake? Bunny!” He said as he made me ride his dick while holding me up and down. “It’s not bunny.. it’s lee.” I said sternly, but was only treated by a cheeky smile, and him mouthing bunny. “Wa-wait! Wait! Hold up.. Ngh!” His big beefy cup of sperm ejected from his dick that was inside me! My ass sluttily gripped onto his dick tighter, and went down balls deep! As if that massive meaty shlong was bad enough! His balls were huge! “Haa! That’s refreshing! Let’s go again!” “No. I’m tired.” I gulped anticipating him to allow me to rest. Like come on! Couldn’t he have woken me up? This sex driven shark boy! The only thing he has is a handsome face a chiseled body.. a huge penis.. and godly sex power.. As thoughts flooded my head, he answered, with a grin forming on his face, he whispered. “No way? I didn’t ask you?” His menacing figure suddenly became even more fearful. His aura was oppressing, instead of a cheerful and energetic muscle head. “S-sorry..” “Good doggy!”

I think it’s obvious what happened afterwards. “Ugh.. it’s not closing.. I feel it dripping out..” I obviously was agitated and afraid, I’m being raped. Why would I like this? I may have sinned, but why would I be thrown in this situation. I’m sorry God, is this another trial I must past before I get happy? I prayed despite being religious as all alone, I desperately had to pray to someone who i dislike. I’m an ordinary person after all.. I can’t go through this alone. “Excuse me.. I asked anxiously, Please bring me to the room I was in a while a..ago..” “Huh? Sure. Though I still got some left in me..”

#tentacle smut #tentacle kink #tentacle nsft #monster #monster boy #creature design #lgbtq

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a-small-tired-lonely-potato · 2 years

Text

"And who is she?" "My Sister."

To be perfectly honest, Ban wasn’t sure what to expect from Jericho when she started to follow him.

At first he thought she was just trying to seek out a hopeless crush, but her need to get away from Lionas spoke of a deeper meaning than just following her heart.

Then he reasoned that the only purpose she would have to follow him all this way is she must be doing this to try to kill him again, So he let her tag along.

After all, he had stolen her armor and left her naked body there defenseless, he’d try to kill him too. To be fair, he had only realized she was a girl when he had taken off her chest-plate, and by that point it was too late to turn back. In for a penny, Ya' know?

So he let her tag along, he figured that once she got all the rage out of her system she would toddle on back home. He did the same thing with King and that worked out great.

But after a couple weeks, his theory had some holes being poked in it.

He had given her plenty of chances to hurt him, he got needlessly drunk, he slept whenever he had the chance, he would tug her left and right and always walk ahead of her so his back was exposed.

But instead of hurting him, she would scold him for getting drunk while she took care of his hangovers, she would make sure he was warm enough and stand guard while he slept, and whenever he would tug her along, she would complain, but allow herself to be pulled to and fro.

And he would always walk in front, so she always asked him to slow down so she could keep up.

The more time he spent with her, the more he felt like he had met her before, or at least someone very much like her. He couldn’t put his finger on it until he had come to the outskirts of an old, shabby little town with her.

“BAAAN! Would it kill you to slow down a little!?!”

Ban chuckled as he increased his walking speed ever so slightly, “Not my fault you got short legs Jerry-Curl.♫” His grin got bigger as he knew what was coming next.

“IT IS JERICHO!!! I KNOW YOU KNOW THIS YOU ASSHOLE!!” She exclaimed as she threw a rock near his head.

He caught it, as he knew she had intended. She had jumped off of a flying sea ray at his very location in a town that was on fire, and in one short step had impaled him against a house, if she had wanted to hit him with the rock, she would have.

“You could hurt someone like that ya’ know, what if I got a scar on my pretty face? Then there goes our money maker.♫”

Jericho shot him a deadpan look, “Money maker? I’m the one paying for everything, Besides,” She said, speeding up to a swift jog to overtake his lead, “The only way your face would make us when people pay for you to cover it up.”

Ban’s eyes zeroed in on the girl before quickly jumping forward and grabbing her around her neck in a chokehold, “Hey now! That’s not a very nice thing to say there, is it Jerry?♫”

Jericho started to struggle against his hold, trying to bat him away with her tiny arms. When he thinks about it, they might not be that short, but to him, most everyone has very tiny limbs, and hers was tinier than most.

“Let me GO!!! YOU BIG MORON!!!”

Ban smiled at his flailing companion, “Once you take back those mean words.♫”

“NEVER!!!”

As Jericho managed to slip out of his grasp with a well placed elbow to the rib, Ban was distracted from his game by a noise coming from the young girl.

“GROOOWLLLLL.”

Jericho flushed beet red, and tried to compose herself, “U-Um, uh, Ye-ah, I’m not taking it back and anyway we really need to pick up the speed, haha! I mean I know I told us to slow down but-” She had started to walk away when Ban scooped her off the ground and took off towards the center of the town.

“ASHkdlJDSdAHSIF BAN??? WHAT ARE YOU- Oof!” He had dropped her in front of what looked to be a small bakery, only about three people were even inside and this early in the morning, chances are two of them probably worked there.

Ban gave Jericho back her money pouch he had ‘Borrowed’ earlier, “Get something to eat, I’m gonna be out back behind the shop taking a nap.”

Jericho, still reeling from the ride and by the pouch that she had thought was still on her person, went to tell him she really wasn’t that hungry, when she saw the look on his face.

Jericho couldn’t really say she knew that much about Ban, all she knew, she knew from reports that she had heard by other knights or from what little Master Helbram had told her.

But after traveling with him and with King, she had come to know at least a little. Like how he was very prone to teasing, and the more he knew it bothered you, the more he would do it.

And how he had an alcohol journal, full of labels of different alcohols, with a wide collection and lots of technical facts and interesting descriptions.

And how much he missed his best friend, and his lover.

In silent nights talking to the Fairy King, she had even discovered the incident where Ban had tried to sacrifice his Captain to bring back King’s sister, who had died trying to save him, How much he couldn’t bear to look his Captain in the face after that, how King wasn’t sure whether Ban had left to find another way to bring back Elaine, or to avoid the guilt.

But the most important thing Jericho had learned, was what she learned by watching Ban’s face.

And right now, he looked like someone who expected to be obeyed, no questions asked.

So Jericho nodded, and silently walked into the bakery, she would buy him something to eat as well, but for now it was best to let whatever was bothering him be washed away by a good rest.

Ban meanwhile was resting his head against the brick wall of the alley, trying to forget what his brain had concocted the moment he had heard that wretched noise coming from Jericho’s stomach.

An image came to life of her, laying down in his arms, paper thin, a pale color on her cheeks where she used to blush so red she would look like a tomato.

‘Does’ He said to himself, ‘Not where she Used too, where she Does look like a tomato, She’s not-’

Even in his mind he refused to speak that word. He hated that word, he hated what it meant.

‘Starved’, What a horrible way to die. And what a pitiful way as well. He had been stabbed, hanged, blown up, drowned, burned at the stake, cut to pieces, buried alive even!

And he never found a worse way to die.

To starve to death…

Because he had traveled, you know? He had done odd jobs and missions here and there, he knew how to get food from even tree bark. How desolate or alone or young must one be to be able to starve to death?

About five if he remembered correctly. About five years old with a drunkard of a father, a whore of a mother, and an ignorant fool of older brother. An older brother who had believed when a five year old girl had told him she had already eaten when he would offer her food, an older brother who didn’t bother to look at her skin, getting pale, as he devoured what little they had, too consumed by his own hunger that he couldn’t be bothered to listen the sound of her stomach over his chewing.

And as he fell asleep he dreamed of that same little girl, following him around when he would wander off.

He dreamed of her asking him to slow down his pace, her legs being too tiny to keep up.

He dreamed of her getting mad when he would call her Kill-Ya, instead of her real name, Killa.

He dreamed of when she would sit by him as he slept so she could wake him if their parents ever came into their room, ever his little protector.

He would dream of her and him, walking down the road together, for the very last time.

He would dream of her collapsing into his arms, skin paper thin, face pale as the snow around them, as she asked him for warm bread.

He would dream of his first little sister, and when he opened his eyes, he would see his second.

“BAN!!” She screams as she stands over him, “IT’S ALREADY NOON!” Her face, red as a tomato as she yells at him to wake up.

“Hmm, It’s been a while since I’ve seen that.” He says to himself as he looks her up and down. He sees a small package of warm bread next to where he slept, Jericho must have grabbed it for him while she was in the bakery, even though he hadn’t even asked.

“Seen what? A dream?” She asks, confused.

He still doesn’t really get why Jericho decided to tag along, but he realizes why he decided to let her stay, of who she was to him.

He understands that this might be a bit jarring, to go from ‘I-don’t-care-for-whoever-you-are’ to ‘I-will-protect-you-because-you-are-mine’ but what can he say, what he wants, he takes, he’s Ban, the Fox Sin of Greed after all.

He smiles at the young girl, “That’s your fault Jaleco, Today’s Ale is on you.♫” His grin got bigger as he knew what was coming next.

“Y-yeah… WAIT WHAT!?” She exclaimed as she started to smack him with her tiny hand, “ALSO, EVERYTHING HAS BEEN ON ME THE WHOLE TIME ANYWAY!!!”

Ban smiled as he heard her ranting and raving, he preferred that over the growl of an empty stomach.

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whomturgled · 3 years

Text

just read with my own 2 eyes “i think hua cheng/qi rong is so underrated,” “hua cheng is an artist and qi rong looks a lot like xie lian,”

alright boys i’m out

#i joke abt tgcf brain worms and brainrot but this person takes the cake #i might be paraphrasing the second part of that but it was that #and that was only reason 1 and 2 or w/e of their explanation #was accompanied by art of qr on hc’s lap.#hello ..???HELLO?? did u read the same thing ??????#HE L L O?????.?.#remember when qi rong beat hc a 10 yr/o impoverished boy w/ the help of a bunch of grown men #then dragged him behind his golden carriage in a gunnysack thru the royal capital #and the bag was soaked w/ blood and all the docs after we’re amazed he survived and was conscious #remember how hc got the name crimson saught rain flower after he cleared out one of qi rings nests #remember every time he’s said qi rong is useless garbage and expressed how much he hates him #how mad he got in his new den w/ xie lian and lang qianqiu. bashing his head in over and over and so mad xie lian was worried #also how hc at first especially is very like #afraid of xl’s touch or being Too familiar bc he idolizes and respects him and doesn’t think he’s worthy #etc etc etc etc like I could go on and on to point out every ounce of brain rot in this #what I’m saying is . if what u take away fro #from* this novel is ‘haha hua cheng thinks xie lian’s hot’ and that he’s be in any way impressed or amused or attracted to qi rong #like idk what to tell u bud #1000% the only time HC gets close enough to be in contact w/ qi rong is to beat his ass #not even gonna START on how ooc it would be for qi rong to try to ... idk.. seduce ? hc? despite the obvious homophobia and hatred of him?#but like if he for some reason tried like let’s say he had some sorta brainrot equivalent to this persons. hc would murder him #especially if qi rong tried to use the fact he looked like xie lian as part of the seduction ?. ?? hc would be so mad at the disrespect #SOME OF U NEED TO LEarN TO BEHAVE. GOOD NIGHT.

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muichiroslover · 3 years

Note

Heyo could I request a ban x reader

Where ban and y/n first started dating before elaine so when elaine got into the picture she was a little jealous of their relationship and would try and break them up. And so one day ban and y/n got into an argument, the next day y/n and all of her stuff was gone. Elaine thinking it was a perfect time to take ban tries to comfort him but all he can think about is y/n. So eventually he finds y/n and apologizes in which y/n forgives him.

HAPPY ENDINGG

(Srry If its 2 long u don't have to do it if u dont want 2) (also I do not hate elaine xD)

Hi hi!! Yes I love this idea I love me some angst with happy ending 👀 I hope this is to your liking butterscotch!! <33 enjoy (●’◡’●)ﾉ♥︎♥︎

(Sorry it’s a little late ☹︎)

Pairings: Ban x reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds (not bad)

Genre: Angst with happy ending

_______________________________________________

You and ban had been a couple for as long as you could remember, at first it was kind of hard to approach him when you guys first met but when you guys had warmed up to each other you guys were absolutely inseparable

You guys did everything together and you were so well known your couple name around towns were “The bandit couple”

As you guys explored the world one night Ban brought up news about this drink that could give you immortality, using the sly line

“Then we can be together forever”

To which you laughed and hit him playfully, but he was entirely serious, you sighed and ended up agreeing to your adventurous boyfriends plan, if it wasn’t real at least you guys would have a fun time

So you guys began your journey to the fairy kings forest, when you guys had finally got to the tree you looked up and groaned

“That’s a huge tree, do we have to climb it?” You ask and he snorts as he already begins getting his hands and legs ready to climb

“You don’t have to, you can wait down here” he says smugly and you glare at the back of his head

“No I’m coming, I might as well see it through” you mutter annoyed to which he laughed

“That’s my girl” he says and you look away in embarrassment, feeling flustered at the comment which almost sent the blue haired man flying off the tree in amusement

As you guys climbed and finally made it to the top a girl, a little one at that looked at you both with a straight face as she puts her hand up and a huge wind blows you guys off

You scream in fear as you get blown far back and far above the ground, Ban grits and teeth and clicks his tongue as he grabs you as you guys start falling and takes the impact

You quickly got off of him and looked at him, tears almost in your eyes

“Oh my god! Ban! Ban I’m so sorry I didn’t mean for you to take the impact! Ban!! Ban-“ you frantically said to the man on the ground who’s eyes were closed

“If you keep calling my name out like that it’d be plain bullying if I didn’t wake up” he groans as he slowly sits up and you quickly hug him to which he chuckles and embraces you back

“Alright let’s try again” he says and your eyes widen slightly

“But ban-“ you begin and he just looks at you with his normal goofy smile you can never turn down, you sigh, deeply may I add and look at him

“Okay..I trust you” you say and he grins even wider as he grabs your hand and stands up as you guys started running towards the tree

The same thing happened a few times, it hurt, a lot but Ban never let you get too injured, always taking the impact of the fall even if you tried to fight with his grip in the air

The last time you guys got up there Ban grabbed his weapon and your eyes widen slightly thinking he was gonna attack the little girl

But he manipulated his staff and instead grabbed the cub with his weapon, You gasped as you two got quickly bounded by trees and the girl took the cup from Bans hand

The girl stands in front of you guys seemingly doing something then she lets us both go, Ban started explaining why you guys wanted immortality and those of such, You didn’t expect him to tell her his whole life’s story but

“Well shes too strong Y/n, let’s just go back” he says smiling at you as he holds out his hand, you smile lightly and nod as you grab it and you both head back down the tree

You guys were camping near the tree those days you were climbing it, you decided you’d stay another week since the fairy kings forest is actually quite pretty and you wanted to explore a bit before leaving since this opportunity may never come again

One night as you laid asleep in your sleeping bag you felt moving, you opened your eyes groggily to see your boyfriend quietly leaving the tent, you thought nothing of it, maybe he was going to pee or he was extra hungry or there was something dangerous nearby

Ignoring it you let yourself fall back into a deep slumber

But as the days and nights continued he kept sneaking out, you started getting suspicious so on the 4th night he snuck out you waited a little bit pretending you were sleeping and after a few minutes you slowly crept out of the tent

You looked around whispering your boyfriends name, this could be a huge misunderstanding after all

You went all around the forest and no sight of Ban

You went back to the tent and looked in, maybe you missed him?? But nope he wasn’t in there

You finally stopped in front of the tree and looked up, remembering the girl that resided there, logically speaking she was older then both of us since fairy’s live longer

“He didn’t” you whisper, you didn’t want to think, no you absolutely were wrong, must be seeing the wrong picture

Your boyfriend of years and hardships is not sneaking out at night to meet up with another girl, no it sounds absurd even thinking about it

‘I’ll just climb and check and I’ll be wrong, I’ll take the wind blow’ you think nodding your head reassuring yourself

You start climbing up the tree as quietly as possible, when you finally made it up and peaked up your mouth fell agape as you saw Ban and the girl chatting and laughing, all close

It surprised you so much that you lost grip on the tree and fell back, you rolled down the tree as if it was a hill, your limbs flying to and fro as you finally hit the bottom

You groaned quietly in pain

“What was that?” Ban says as he stops his conversation with Elaine hearing a soft thump

Elaine looks to the side

“ I didn’t hear anything?” She says and Ban shrugs as they continue to talk

You on the other hand shakily get up as you look at yourself, your arm was bleeding but you don’t know from where, your left ankle was sprained for sure, and your back was killing you it probably had a horrible bruise forming

A tear slipped out as you limped to the tent, you sat down as you grabbed bandages and started cleaning your wounds, the blood was coming from a gash just below your shoulder, probably from a sharp branch

You put a stick in your mouth as you took a deep breath, you grabbed some of Bans alcohol and poured it over the cut, you bit down harshly on the stick but no scream made it through, tears can’t say the same though

You spit out the stick as you breathed hard, every breath of air seeming like you haven’t had oxygen for a while, you take a bandage and wrap it around your arm securely

Usually you would make herbs for wounds and etc, but your hands were shaky, mind a daze and eyes blurry from tears

You wrapped up your sprained ankle and just let your back be in pain because there wasn’t much you could do about the pain back there

You sat silently in the tent waiting for your boyfriend to arrive, he did not arrive till the morning, about an hour and a half before you would usually wake up

When he opened the tent and saw you staring blankly at his empty sleeping bag he went to you and was about to touch your shoulder to ask you what was wrong but you jerked back

He was surprised as you looked at him, your eyes puffy, a huge sign you were crying

“Y/n what-“

“Where were you last night Ban?” You ask and he goes silent

“No in fact where were you the past 4 nights??” You ask and he sighs

“Y/n I just went out to explore and hunt, the foods not gonna come to us-“

You scoff, tears forming up, if he’s lying then is it true that he..

“You’re lying Ban, you’re lying to me” you grit out and he looks at you a little confused but mostly surprised

“What?”

“You were up there in that tree with that girl..” you say dangerously quiet and he sighs his head falling as he realizes he’s been caught and it looks totally wrong too

“Y/n..” he begins and you shake your head

“No no dont Y/n me, why did you lie and why were you sneaking out?!” You shout

“Y/n we were just talking I swear, I lied because I didn’t know how you would react-“

“HOW I WOULD REACT? HOW WOULD YOU REACT IF I WAS SNEAKING OFF LATE AT NIGHT AND MEETING UP WITH SOME GUY BAN?? HUH??!” You ask pushing him back but you wince as the wound near your shoulder moves

Ban notices this then notices the bandage on your arm and ankle

“Y/n what happened?” He asks quickly as he pulls your ankle into his palm to examine it, but you pull it back quickly

“You’re not even answering me, I-I can’t believe this, I can’t.” You say as you lay down in your sleeping bag, you were extremely tired from staying up the whole night already

You laid on the opposite side you usually lay on because of the wound on your other shoulder and thankfully it was the side not facing Ban

You guys didn’t speak for the whole day and when night came you woke up only to see Ban gone

“Y-You’re kidding” you whisper, you quickly get out, you run to the tree as you go up the route you began to remember with your mind at this point

You climbed up skillfully fast ignoring the roaring pain in both your ankle and shoulder, you peaked up and not to your surprise you see Ban and Elaine speaking under the oh so romantic fairy lights

With no sound you climbed back down, you walked to your tent and went in, grabbing your bag you grabbed your herbs, bandages, clothes and canned foods, leaving some for Ban even in your mood

You rolled up your sleeping bag and dig the dirt under as you grabbed your bag of coins, you and Ban always hid your money in case of any intruders, you guys were bandits after all

You take your money and put it in your bag as you get out the tent and leave

Ban returned back in the morning, he had asked Elaine what he should do to fix things and what a girl usually would like in this type of situation, you guys had never fought so bad to the point you didn’t speak the whole entire day

He was scared you were actually done with him, he had a few picked flowers in his hand and he took a deep breath as he opened the tent

But his eyes widen when he sees your stuff gone and your sleeping bag rolled up, he drops the flowers as he looks around frantically

“Y/N?? Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!” He yelled, he ran everywhere around the forest looking for you, but you were no where in sight

By the time night fell he still couldn’t find you and it felt like his whole world was collapsing in front of him, he couldn’t think and he couldn’t even yell anymore bc he was sure he lost his voice by how loud and long he was screaming your name

He quickly wiped a tear that rolled down his cheek as he quickly climbed the tree, Elaine looked over at him worriedly

“You didn’t come at our usual time I was worried” she said and looks away blushing slightly

“She left Elaine! She left and I can’t find her anywhere” he says as he falls onto his knees and the tears finally come out

“She left me Elaine I-“ he says hoarsely

Elaine frowns sadly as she goes over and hugs him

“Well Ban...maybe she wasn’t the right one..there’s other people who can make you happy” she says

“Her injuries, she had bandages on her right arm and an injury on her ankle as well! She can get really hurt out there I have to find her” he cried

“Ban she left you, maybe it’s time to move on” Elaine says hintfully and lets go of Ban as she flies to the cup, she gives it to Ban and smiles at him

“Really?” He asks and she nods blushing a bit, he drank it slowly and when Elaine wasn’t looking he poured some inside of a glass bottle

“Ban I like-“ Elaine begins but Ban gets up

“I’m sorry Elaine I think this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, I checked every inch of the forest last night so that means Y/n has left the forest, I’m gonna be leaving as soon as I make it to the tent and get my stuff” he says to the girl who’s face falls in despair

“W-What wait but Ban she-“ she began

“She left? She had a good reason, if I was in her position I’d be upset too I can’t blame her” he says running a hand through his hair

“B-BUT SHE-SHE” Elaine tries to plead but stops when she sees Ban smile at her

“No matter what she did or does, she’s the only one my heart races for, in life or in death Y/n is my one true love so...wherever she goes I’ll chase her” he says and with that he jumps off the tree

Elaine falls to her knees as she watches the spot Ban once stood in, her head falling down as tears fell on to the tree

Ban had gotten to the tent and began packing all his stuff he got his money bag from under his sleeping , though he wonders where you hid yours and leaves

He travels for towns and towns looking for you, he had finally found you but much to his dismay you got captured since you were injured and were in a pretty tight situation as you were on death row

He watched as you and other prison mates were in a yard just doing your own things, you were laying on a bench staring at the sky

“Pssst”

You look up quickly and look around not seeing anyone, you were about to lay back down

“Pssst Y/n!”

You look around again noticing the familiar voice

“I must be going crazy” you mutter as you hold your forehead

“You’re not! Look over here!”

You slowly look to the side of the fence you were near and your eyes slowly landed on a bush, soon blue hair popped up from behind the bush and Ban gave you that grin of his

“Ban!” You say, a smile on your face, but you quickly replace it by a scowl and look away from him

He smiles slightly at that

“Y/n come on look at me” he whispers and you begrudgingly look over at him and he smiles, causing you to get flustered and your scowl to shake trying not to smile

“What are you doing here, you better hurry up and escape before they catch you too” you whisper not looking at him, instead watching the guards

He laughs

“As if I would leave you in a jail cell, come on let’s go” he says and you look at him stupidly

“Let’s go? No thanks death row isn’t that bad” you say coldly and he sighs

“Fine, guess we have to do this the hard way” he says shrugging

“HEY GUARDS” He shouts and your eyes widen as you sit up and block him with your body as the guards and inmates look at you

“UHH YEAH GUARDS, UHM YOUR ZIPPERS DOWN” you say and cringe deeply when the guards both look down and one coughs as he zips up his zipper, the inmates laughing

When everything died down you looked at Ban deadly

“Are you crazy?” You whisper

“Crazy for you”

Your mouth closes as you try to not blush but it’s inevitable as your brows unfurrow and a small smile takes over

“There’s that smile I love” he says and you roll your eyes as you huff slightly

“You better explain, I’m not giving you another chance so don’t you lie to me” you say and he nods quickly like a dog, you can basically see the tail behind him wagging

“Now step back babe, you’re boyfriends here to save you” he says smugly and you roll your eyes as you back up

He takes out his staff and in a swift motion breaks the fence, the guards all look over

“HEY” one shouts and you gasp as Ban quickly scoops you up and starts running

“It’s okay! I’ll take this bandit off your hands!” He shouts amused as he runs, he runs into a forest and does many turns eventually losing the guards who had to return back before any other inmates escaped

He puts you down lightly and you cross your arms to which he snorts

“I can run you know” you say and he shakes his head as he leans down and takes out a jar of green stuff

“They’re not as good as yours but they should do” he says and he gently takes your leg as he pulls up the inmate suit and sees your swollen ankle

“Tch stupid guards didn’t even treat it” he mutters as he takes some of the green cream and slowly and gently rubs it over your ankle

You can’t lie this felt really good but

“The first night I went up to try to plead for the youth drink” he says and you look at him

“The second night I went up to try and bribe for the youth drink”

“The third night I spoke to her, I tried to get to know her so she can see we have no bad intentions but one night wasn’t enough”

“The 4th night she had decent trust in me, so we continued talking”

He sighed as he started wrapping the bandage around your ankle softly, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Ban this gentle

“And the 5th night?” You ask and he looks to the side, you noticed a slight blush

“The 5th night I asked advice on what I should do to make you forgive me..” he mutters and your mouth falls agape slightly, it slowly forms into a small smile

“I’m sorry for not letting you explain..” you say and he shakes his head

“No, I can see how this looked from your perspective” he says as he rolls up your sleeves and switches the old bloodied bandages on your arm

You chuckle softly

“So I guess we can’t be together forever” you say sighing and as he rubs the herb cream on your bruised back he raises his eyebrow and pulls out a glass bottle with pink liquid

“Sorry but you’re not escaping me so easily” he says and you gasp as you grab the bottle and look at it

“This is really it??” You say looking back at him and he nods proudly

You slowly open it and drink it, but you didn’t feel that different

“Did it work?” You ask and he shrugs to which you deadpan

That day you both held hand as you jumped off a cliff, when you landed you guys sat up as you laughed and high fived, it worked

After a few months both you and Ban were caught purposely cause life began to get boring, you both sat in the same cell, after 33 executions you both are still alive in confinement

“I win” you say as you cross an all three X’s on the tic tac toe you made on the dirt in the ground

“You’re cheating” Ban replies and you laugh

Soon the door blows open and you two looked over to see a short man with blonde hair, you both smiled as Meliodas smiled back at you two

“Glad to see you two are still lovebirds”

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semischarmed · 3 years

Text

Detour

“Really Scott,” you say, as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t look familiar to you at all?” You take a mental picture of your high school tormentor’s face. Damn. ‘You’ve only gotten hotter these past few years haven’t you?’

“Nah man, sorry” He states as he moves to close the door to his apartment. You give a slight rub to a small gold medallion and his body starts moving on it’s own. You stare at him with a cruel smile as he tries to wrestle control back of his body. Your face strains but you are able to force him to let you into his place. Scott, evidently, was smarter than he looks as you notice him take a mental note of your struggle and the medallion. You’re gonna have to be careful around him.

You have to admit, this is a lot tougher than you initially expected. Much like his body, man has a will of steel, and even with this necklace’s little power boost, you can only barely contain him. But you have the power of raw emotion coursing through you. Envy. Lust. Unlike Scottie over here, lady luck has not been kind to the past few years past high school. That all changed when you came across this medallion. A strange, mystical, wonderful medallion with strange, mystical, wonderful powers. As soon it came into your possession, you instantly knew the first person who would have the privilege of witnessing its power firsthand. Scott reclaimed a bit of power over himself.

“What the fuck dude! You got the wrong guy! I really don’t know who you are!” You have to hold back a bit of your hurt. All those years of agony and fear, and it doesn’t even register a blip to him. ‘Fuck it, worth it for what I’m about to get.’ With another rub of the medallion you force him to freeze.

As you study his frame, still and glistening with a nervous sweat, you are overcome with a wave of lust- you can’t wait to possess the fuck out of this man. He’s only gotten bigger, beefier since the last time you’ve seen him. You are cut from your trance as you hear a soft “zzzz” sound.

His phone buzzes again and, rubbing your medallion, you force him to pull it out and unlock it for you. “Who is this?” You ask, as you take a closer look at the string of texts. “Almost back!” “Hey u wanna get some pizza tonight?” “Dude I gotta tell you about Sophie at the weights today.“

“I-It’s Alex, he’s my friend. He’s my best friend. We’re roommates. Also he’s coming back soon, so you should probably go. This-whatever the fuck this is man, I won’t tell anyone I promise. Just go” he states nervously. Try as you might, you can’t read if he’d genuinely let you go. Knowing the Scott you knew in high school, he’d probably beat you to a pulp as soon as you released your hold on him. Whatever. Not leaving anyway. You stare at more pictures of his friend from Scott’s social media. Fit, cute- hot even, easy on the eyes. Ok then, maybe a little detour is in order.

“I’m gonna give you a choice.” You state plainly, as you set his phone on the table. “And I know you remember who I am, so you can stop the act. You? Or Alex? Who’s it gonna be?” He probably thinks you’re gonna kill him. Not even close. If anything, he’s gonna be getting a new lif-

“Alex, Alex! Please dude, just leave me alone!” He says without hesitation. Damn. Cold-blooded. You smile with menacing compliance.

“Alex it is.”

----

Minutes later, a sweaty Alex unlocks the door to his apartment, eager to get quick shower in and order some dinner. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize we’d have guests”.

Alex smiles warmly at you and greets you, “Hey, I’m Alex, Scott’s roommate. Good to meet you!” He looks at his hand. “Sorry, I just got back from the gym, so I’d shake your hand, b-” “So you’re Alex! good to meet you too!” you cut him off by extending your hand, which he awkwardly shakes out of formality. You use this to take a sneak preview of your future vessel’s hands. Calloused, but soft. Thin, damp. Vascular. Good.

“Yeah, I’m an old friend of Scott’s. From high school,” you lie. “He said he had to grab something from the store, so he’ll probably be back in a bit.”

“Aww well, I’m sorry he’s been keeping you waiting” Alex gives a warm smile. “He’s usually pretty good at this kind of stuff, so I’m sure he had a good reason. Do you want like a water or something?”

He starts to head to the kitchen. You stifle a moan as you quickly stick your hand in your pants and smear his gym sweat all over your dick. Sneak preview.

As he fashions himself a glass of water and glances back as you quickly take your hands out your pants before he notices. “Oh no, no! I’m alright! Thank you for the offer though!” you beam back. Close call.

‘Alex is such a nice, stand up guy’ You wonder to yourself, ‘why is he friends with that piece of shit’

“I’ve known Scott since college, so a little less than you, haha” he adds, as if hearing your mental conversation. “He always keeps it real and he’s even been helping me get toned”. He smiles and does a small bicep flex to demonstrate -hot- before he ravenously gulps down the entire glass of water and sets it down.

‘Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to be the one going down that tube’ you think, as you bite your lip. Alex starts to head your way. You then pick up on his scent, he smells clean- probably his cologne or deodorant. Mountains. Mint. Fresh rain. He’s like a breath of fresh air. Then the undercurrent of his scent hits. Raw, primal, alpha as fuck. You’re a bit surprised. Such a kind, clean cut guy and he apparently naturally smells like a filthy, raunchy, putrid motherfucker. You can hardly control yourself as you try to imagine where it’s coming from. Pits, ass, feet, ball sweat, all of the above?- wherever the fuck it’s coming from, it’s intoxicating. You smile in the joy that a little piece of you, even if it was just the dick that you rubbed his hand sweat all over, now smells like a diluted Alex. You struggle as you adjust your growing hard on in proximity to the pheromone bomb that is Alex.

Suddenly, Alex’s phone buzzes. You steal a glance at the sender. It’s Scott.

“Hey man, come to my room, now. We need to fucking talk. I have no idea who he is. Make sure he stays where he is. He doesn’t know I’m here .” Alex stares at his phone, a little perplexed, while you continue to stare at this fine, fine piece of ass in front of you. He gives a quick glance your way, to which you respond with a smile.

“Hey, uh, make yourself at home, ok? Im sure Scott’s coming back soon. I, uh, I gotta take care of something real quick with our, um, other roommate.” There’s only two bedrooms and he’s a horrible liar, but you still find it a little endearing. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, maybe we can hang out sometime. Any friend of Scott is a friend of mine!“ he tells you kindly as you swoon. ‘Oh Alex we’re about to be much, much closer than friends. Closer than you can possibly imagine’.

“Hey dude, uh, so Scott’s friend is waiting for you in the living room. Also whatever this is, can it wait? I kinda have to showe-“ Alex cuts himself off as he sees Scott slumped over, tied up to his desk chair with his own dirty clothes in a neat little bow. “What the fuck!?! Scott! are you ok?” Alex rushes over to help his friend.

“So, I gotta say, Scott, you made a great choice sacrificing him to save yourself. Alex is definitely a catch.” You say from the doorway. Alex quickly looks your way in horror as his best friend breaks free from his fake restraints and pulls him into an embrace.

Alex tries to squirm free from Scott’s grip, as you make Scott say the truth to his friend. “He made me choose, between you and me. I chose you.”

“T-This is a joke, right? Scott?” Scott starts to force him into his desk chair. “Cmon man!” Alex pleads, as an emotionless Scott ties him to the desk chair.

“Some best friend” you chuckle, as you stroke Scott’s cheek and wipe away a stray tear -you can feel his revulsion internally- “he sold you out without a second thought”. You start to undress his lower half, starting with his gym shoes. Fuck it was potent. “Don’t worry, I’ll never do that to us.” You peel away his sweat soaked socks and take another whiff. Alex sits in confusion, probably speechless at what had just transpired.

“Let’s make a deal” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll show you a taste of me if you show me a taste of you.” Without waiting for a response, you start by kneeling down sucking on his scummy toes. Sour. Just how you like it. He’s still squirming in his bonds a little. “Step on me,” you say, as you smash your face to his sweaty feet over and over again, simulating him stepping on you. You catch a little movement in his crotch area. ‘Is he enjoying this?’ you ask, as you continue up Alex’s legs. You look back to make sure Scott is still in your control. He stands frozen, emotionless, but with a deep hatred in his eyes, twitching occasionally in his attempt to break free. You make him face Alex and force him to lift the corner of his tank top to give Alex a little tease, while you continue with your little treasure hunt.

You then peel away his compression shorts to reveal your prize. A concentrated bloom of Alex’s pheromones hit you. Ecstasy. You almost pass out on the spot. ‘Holy shit’. You can't control yourself as bury your head and greedily rub your face in his sweaty crotch. Alex is eerily quiet.

Rubbing the medallion, you issue your next command. You’re gonna need to divert a little magic to making this work, so you release some control of Scott as emotion and shouting return to him. It takes a minute or two but you’re able to get your bodies properly primed fro the next stage. You notice Alex shiver from a slight tingle in his body, while Scott continues his barrage of insults your way. “Shut up,” you command. His lips quiver and then shut. “Scottie, come tell Alex what his best friend is gonna do to him.”

Alex again looks at Scott with a pleading face as a twitching, emotionless Scott continues: “Alex, I’m gonna stuff you full of himm- full of my Ma,” you wince. Strong and stubborn as ever, you can’t even get him to call you master. “Man you’re gonna love it. I sold you out to save myself. Didn’t even have to think about it. Just like that.” You’re getting a little better at controlling his movements. “Now I’m gonna be the one to make sure I put all of him inside you” Scott continues, “I-I can’t wait to see him wear you like a s-suit, parading you around, s-swimming in your skin and no one will ever know. I can’t wait to see the new you, w-with a little fag pilot tucked safe inside, pulling on your strings, speaking for you, thinking for you, loving for you” Scott finishes with an unsettling, wide grin that you force him into.

Emotion and control rush back to Scott’s face. “Alex...” he states in an apologetic tone, but Alex doesn’t even look him in eye. Again, off the corner of your eye, you can’t help but notice a ghost of a smile on his face before it returns to its sullen look.

“Ok, ok, enough you two. Let’s go put on a good show for our best friend Scottie”.

-End Part 1-

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wdwmarveldisney · 3 years

Note

Hey I requested the isaac lahey imagine ‘memories’ I was wondering if u could do it where it’s before she died and it’s the part where Ethan, Aiden and isaac get possessed by those flies but instead of isaac it’s y/n and she attacks the twins and stuff and instead of isaac and Allison sleeping together it’s her and isaac( this is not a smut just the build up to it) and she’s all seductive and dominant and taunting and the aftermath when she isn’t possessed anymore .

Stupid Fly

Isaac Lahey x reader

Summary: Isaac isn’t the one to be possessed by Void but instead its you.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay so I watched the episode so I hope this is accurate. I’m really not good at the build up thing so sorry about that.

GIF isn’t mine

Your fingers dug into the cover that you sat on, eyes fixed on the ground as your feet swung slightly. Patiently waiting for Isaac, you stopped swinging your feet and began tapping them instead. Your usual bright and lively eyes had this dark swirl to them that didn't fit, that was natural. You didn't hear his footsteps or the bag in his hand hit the ground and only turned when you heard his voice, "What are you doing here?" When your eyes met his, you only held his gaze for a second or two before scanning his face, "I thought I'd wait for you to come back. You didn't just walk out of the hospital, did you?" Isaac shrugged, falling next to you as he scanned you in caution. He could tell something was off, "It's okay. I feel a lot better. All healed," you reached a hand up, fingers grazing his cheek as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"So you're okay?" Isaac didn't like the tone of your voice, soft concern and care that was usually present gone. He nodded, hand going to hold yours and pull it down to the space between the two of you, "What's wrong?" You stared down at your joined hands before giving his a slight squeeze and finally meeting his eyes once more. In response, you simply shrugged and a small smirk made your lips twitch up, "Just wanted to see you," You had leaned in and although he wished it hadn't, all reason had left Isaac as you had inched closer. He could no longer think about you seemed off, that you seemed too confident and too bold because this was the closest you had been since he had talked to about getting back together. You had been avoiding him as you said you had to work out your feelings. Maybe you had, maybe this was you finalising a decision and deciding to just go with it. But this wasn't how you would do it that nagging voice in the back of his head kept screaming at him. That voice was successfully silenced as your lips were pressed gently to his and it took near to no time for him to kiss. You hand went to his chest and you gently pushed him back wards and onto the bed as you continued.

Your hands moved to his hair, lips kissing across his cheek and to his jaw as Isaac leaned his head back to give you more access. Your hand moved to his jaw, tilting his head to face you. You both started giggling as you pecked his lips repeatedly before he finally pulled you close enough to place a longer kiss to your lips.

Light streamed through the crack in the curtains as the soft hum of traffic and nature twisted together and filled the room. Isaac sighed, rolling over to see you and frowning when he realised you were up and out of bed instead of cuddling close like when the two of you fell asleep. He sat up, leaning on his elbows as he watched pick up random objects to admire before placing them back. "There you are. What are you doing over there?" You glanced back over your shoulder with a small smile and you placed the small picture frame back on the dresser and leaning back onto it, "You know, I was at Allison's the other day. We were working on that text, before you came over that is. There's still a lot of weapons there. I thought her new Code was about protecting," Isaac shrugged, not understanding where you were going with this. He sat up a bit more, leaning against the head of the bed as he observed every move of yours. The way you stared around the room, how you didn't bothered by the way that you were topless with your bra on display when you normally would be, how there was this permanent smirk toying your swollen lips.

"Most of them are non-lethal," He defended and your eyes snapped back to him as you nodded, turning back to the things in his room. "Hmm... The daggers looked pretty lethal to me," he could hear the edge to your voice and frowned at the way your fingers tapped a quick beat against the book you held, "But maybe she should keep them. There's still a few of us out there who aren't quite so non-lethal... like the twins," This made him shoot up, reaching for his shirt as his frown got deeper, eyebrows knitting together in worry and confusion, "I thought we were going to give them a second chance?" He gave a small nervous laugh when you didn't seem to react at all, "You're the one to talk me into it," Isaac pointed out and this time, you spun round with an angered expression pulling at your features. Your teeth dug into you bottom lip before you shrugged and snapped, "I changed my mind, they don't deserve it,"

Isaac moved closer to the other end of the bed, reaching for your hands to pull you closer, really panicked by the wild in your eyes. "Things are different now. It doesn't have to be like that anymore," You scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes at the seriousness and concern in his. You took his hands in yours and took those few steps closer before leaning down closer to his lips, "You do remember them trying to kill you numerous times, right?" Isaac gave you pleading as he shook his head at your determination. He wasn't liking where this was going, "They're helping," You dropped his hands with a frown, backing away as you grabbed your top from the floor and pulled it on, "I had a feeling you'd say something like that," He watched you walk out out of the room, slamming the door behind you as you heard him shout after you, "Y/N, wait! Y/N!"

"See? That's what I'm talking about. I'd probably be in his pack by now if it wasn't for my psychotic brother - the one who has to kill everything in sight," you smiled to yourself when you heard their voices, gripping the weapon you stole from Allison tighter as you tried to find them. They keep shouting like that and it'll only make it easier, no werewolf abilities needed. "Careful, Ethan... You're currently the only thing in my sight," As you turned the corner, you saw them go for each other and a smirked pulled at your lips. They really did like making it easier for you. You raised the gun you had in your hands, shooting Ethan in the back and watching them both writhe in pain fro the electricity flowing through them. Swinging the gun to rest across your shoulder you took a step closer, "I guess this is the part where I say something witty,"

You gave a small hollow chuckled, hitting Ethan in the face with the back of the gun when you were closer enough, successfully knocking him out. Your smirk fell and you turned to Aiden with that emotionless face and deadly look in your eyes that made a shiver run down his spine. Or maybe that was the electricity. You crouched down to him, head tilting as you scanned his face. With the shake of your head and the small quirk up of your lips, you whispered, "I'm not witty," and knocked him out just like twin.

You dumped the gun and with a huff, began to drag them to the boys locker room. You dropped their hands, letting them hit the ground with a small smack and turned to Coach's office. Digging through his drawers, a frown made its way to your lips as you began to mutter to yourself, "Come on, Coach. You gotta have a lighter," the smirk took its place back on your lips as you lifted the lighter to be level with your eyes. You grabbed the bottle of alcohol with the piece of fabric stuffed into the top, hesitantly slightly. Was this really the best idea? Shaking your head at the thought, you reassured yourself, "I'm gonna burn it down... For Erica... For Boyd... For Isaac... For everyone! I'm gonna burn it. I'm gonna burn it," with final nod, you walked out to stand by the twins, lighting the fabric. Just as you about you were to throw at them, the fabric was pulled out of the bottle and you turned to see Kira with her katana in hand. You stood in silence for a beat or two before you shrugged, "Nice sword,"

The bottle fell from your hands and smashed by your feet but you couldn't care less, immediately focusing on attacking Kira. You were doing this and if she got in your way then you'd just have to deal with it, right? She managed to push you to the ground and you huffed out in frustration. Why couldn't she just leave you to do it? "Y/N!" You turned, seeing Allison and Isaac both standing either side of Kira. Slowly pulling yourself up, you shook out your arms and rolled your shoulders as the three backed away into Coach's office. Allison closed the door as Isaac and Kira pushed the desk in front to block you out. The twins had stood up behind you and you spun to face them, claws beards as you heard the others talk in Coach's office, "Was that a good idea?"

"Probably not," You swung first and managed to hit Aiden but Ethan got you from behind and you could Kira's worried voice as you struggled, "They're not going to kill each other, are they?" You stomped on Ethan's foot and got out of his grip only for Aiden to get you. Ethan joined him and they both shoved you into the door, the window shattering upon impact. "I think they're going to try," Isaac muttered.

Somehow, you'd got a slight upper hand and was managing perfectly fighting the two at once. That was until the other three began to try and break you apart. They eventually managed to take control, Isaac's main focus being you. Deaton had arrived soon enough, pulling the stupid fly that had managed to sneak through a cut on your side from the Oni's sword, just like Derek. Isaac could see the regret cross your face, hands rubbing at your eyes before you shot up and began profusely apologising to the twins. You couldn't look at the blonde as you helped the twins up and heard the update from Deaton and it wasn't until afterwards and Isaac pulling actually pulling you away from the others, did you finally look up at him. "You okay?" He asked quick, scanning you over. Even with Deaton saying you were fine, Isaac couldn't help but worry. "I'm fine," you turned to go but Isaac pulled you right back making a low growl leave your lips. The boy dropped your wrists, backing away as your eyes flickered to their beta yellow and back before a hand slapped over your mouth in shock. "I'm so sorry," you mumbled and Isaac was quick to hold your hand and reassure you. "No, hey, it's okay," he paused, taking a deep breath before leaning forward slightly and avoiding eye contact as he asked, "Do you regret it?"

"What? No, of course not. I still love you. I just, I didn’t want to have it happen that way, you know? And it was...different. Not bad, just it was weird ‘cause I was possessed-” Isaac’s chuckle cut off your ramble, a blush rising on your cheeks as you watched him smile at you. “It wasn’t exactly the way I wanted it to happen either,” he interlaced his fingers with yours as you both stared at your hands, dopey smiles on your lips. “I wanna work this out, I do. I just need a bit more time,” Isaac met your eyes, noticing the crease in your brows and the small frown on your lips and the way you tilted your head to meet his eyes. He nodded slowly, not letting go of your hand just yet. He didn’t want to ever let go.

You finally pulled away, sent a half grin and began to make your way down the hall, disappearing from his sight as you turned the corner.

#isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Note

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them.

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE.

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at.

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes. Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town.

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed.

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.”

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off.

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar.

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while.

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you.

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch?

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor.

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth.

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction.

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle.

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands.

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor.

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.”

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind.

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves.

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious.

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his.

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer.

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off.

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly.

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take.

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along.

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it.

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness. It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins.

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar.

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer.

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well.

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter.

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers.

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law.

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him.

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered.

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too.

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight.

The white shine of his hair always gives him away.

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?”

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against.

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke.

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you.

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.”

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger.

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?”

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it.

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark.

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze.

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his.

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now.

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness.

******

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him.

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension.

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions.

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine.

******

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened.

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation.

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features.

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness.

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly.

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion.

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists.

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens.

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might.

Late one evening, your phone rings.

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive.

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly.

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor.

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so...

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you.

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you.

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.”

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this.

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want.

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting.

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him.

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him.

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you.

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you.

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips.

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks.

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on.

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult.

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth.

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you.

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips.

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh.

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes.

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth.

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front.

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good.

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands.

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes.

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking.

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips.

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him.

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking.

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration.

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him.

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his.

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you.

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him.

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue.

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion.

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you.

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience.

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?”

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection.

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor.

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you.

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head.

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different.

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed.

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher.

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.”

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes.

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished.

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous.

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs.

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent.

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind.

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have.

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality.

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going.

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin.

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall.

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub.

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it.

He’s never been alone, not like this.

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same.

He needs to see this through.

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away.

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple.

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go.

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin.

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme.

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on Tomura’s dick #and his trauma #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura x y/n #tomura x you #tenko shimura #shimura tenko #reader insert

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mysticprofessoralienhumanoid · 3 years

Text

A Daminette Penpal AU - Continuation

Continuation of this post

@ab-unreachablevoice @startouchedqueen1318 @lovemidnighteclipse12 you asked, I deliver.

Now, I want all of you to know this AU was made in a spur of moment. I’m totally winging it rn.

So obviously before the akuma class goes to Gotham, the months of texting have to have passed.

For Damian, those months are hell, because not only does he have to hear Jon’s gushing about his awesome penpal, but he has to endure Lila’s lies and her stories that keep only getting more ridiculous as the time passes too.

And it better be fucking worth it, because you have no idea how close he’s to flying to Paris and finally putting his assassin’s skills into use.

I mean, look at this!

Lila: HI Damian!!!! ❤💖💕💋💞

Damian, cringing at his phone: Yes?

Lila: How r u????

Damian, who absolutely hates when someone types like that: Have been better

Lila: Would u like to maybe video chat???? I could tell u about my trip to Achu !!!!!

Damian, a little shit™: Did “u” know that using more than three (3) exclamation (!) and question (?) marks means “u” may have a personality disorder? Maybe that’d explain the amount of lies “u” like to spew so much.

(Oof-)

[Message read. This user is offline.]

I’m convinced that if Damian knew how to use gifs, he would 100% use a lot, and I mean a lot, of cat gifs (honestly, animal gifs in general).

Lila: Hi Dami!!!! (She doesn’t learn, okay.)

Damian: I hope you can understand the message.

She can.

Lila: Hi dami. Can I call u Dami???

Damian: No.

Lila: I had so much fun this weekend Dami!!!! I went to Brazil Turns out Chris Pratt is filming a new movie there. Anyway, he recognized me and we started talking. His so much fun!!!!!! 🥰🤩😍😍🎉🎉

Damian: Fascinating. Please do not tell me more.

Damian: And it’s “he’s”, not “his”.

Heh.

Lila: Hiii Damiii

Damian: I literally hate you so much-

[Message not sent]

Lila: Dami????

Lila: ....

Lila: Um, Damian? U there????

[Message not read]

You have no idea how, much fun making these is-

Oh, and imagine, just imagine, if Lila told him about situation in Paris.

Lila: Sorry for texting you so late, damiboo. Got caught up in an akuma attack.

Damian, who by now is replying just to humor her (plus his father forced him): A what?

And then Lila starts explaining the situation in Paris. Of course, she adds a few stories about how she was akumas’ target or how she helped Chat Noir (weirdly she doesn’t talk much about Ladybug). It’s that one of really rare times she’s not lying (well, not that much). And how Damian reacts to it?

Damian, Done with Lies™: Do you ever stop lying? Because this, all of this, is absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

Cue Lila wishing she didn’t bullshit as much as she did Damian was just a little more gullible

Anyway.

I don’t know if you remember, but in the first part I said Damian ditched Lila for Marinette (but let’s be honest, wouldn’t we all?).

To clear things up, I kinda wanted the GA students to accompany their penpals throughout their time at school. It’d be nice, right?

So the scene is:

The principal has just announced that GA students have to keep company their penpals while they’re at the GA establishment. Lila’s feeling victorious, this is her chance to get her claws in Damian and his money- I mean, to get to know her lovely penpal. Yeah...

Lila, walking up to Damian, while trying to appear sexy and shy at the same time, and failing at both: So, shall we?

Damian, ostentatiously glancing at her before going to Marinette: Bye

Now, to spice things up, I decided imma get them caught up in a rouge attack/attacked by a rouge.

So somewhere a week in their stay, akuma class is held hostage by one of the Gotham’s criminals.

Because this is Gotham, y’all. You can’t be in Gotham and NOT get attacked some way or another. It’s impossible.

[Choose your villain. I have badass Marinette though, so we all know the winner here]

The moment it starts, Damian slips away and changes into Robin.

Meanwhile:

The class is screaming and panicking.

Lila is probably in the middle of a panic attack.

Marinette’s assessing the situation before striking.

The moment Robin arrives, he gets to witness Marinette, the sweet cinnamon roll Marinette, kicking ass and taking names. Adorable. He thinks he’s in love (and he so is).

Bats come. And they’re met with the dude dealt with and trembling in fear of a petite girl with pigtails, who’s standing next to him and a lovestruck Robin staring at said girl.

A sight to behold, truly.

Also, what if Damian accidentally texts Lila instead of Marinette after the attack? And Lila is so happy, because she thinks her plan’s finally working. But ohoho, does Damian have surprise for her.

Damian: Are you sure you’re okay? The attack was really dangerous, You’re sure you’re fine?

Lila, thinking ‘yes, fucking finally. Almost thought you have no feelings’ : Oh, it was so scary !!!!!! 😱😰😨😨😨 [just hella lot of emojis. She seems like that kind to me] I was absolutely terrified!!!! I’m just glad that it’s all over. After the attack Robin came up to check up on me. He even flirted with me, i think he likes me... Too bad I already like someone else 😘😘😘😘😘😘

Lila: But don’t worry, dami!!!! I’m a little shaken up, but overall okay. But if you want to we can facetime so you can make sure I’m not injured ;*

Damian, having to physically restrain himself fro throwing his phone against the wall: ...

Damian: Fuck.

Damian: Wrong number.

Lila: ಠ_ಠ

---------

And of course I’m involving Twitter. Who do you think I am?

At first it was one of of his siblings who posted a post about how he’s seething at his phone, probably his penpal texted him something again.

But do you seriously thing Damian would pass such an amazing opportunity?

Haha.

No.

He immediately posts his follow up and it goes downhill from here. He adds shit ton of tweets about her, making Lila famous (and she doesn’t even know she is).

People don’t know whom to pity more; Damian, for having a horrible and lying penpal, or said penpal, for having an enemy in the Ice Prince of Gotham?

The hashtags #IcePrince’sPenpal #PenpalNightmare #MenaceOfAPenpal are created and are trending every day.

Many say it’s the most active he’s ever been.

---------

Lila is not stupid in this, okay? A pathological liar and a manipulator, yes, but for that you need brain and she has one. Much to Damian’s surprise. And yeah, sometimes she lets her imagination get the best of her, but she’s cautious enough and has proof to often back her up.

She knows she screwed up. Her penpal doesn’t believe her and isn’t scared to call her out.

Due to him bluntly uncovering her lies, some of the classmates see through the blinds she’d put on their eyes and get suspicious of her.

If you have mercy on them, make them come to Marinette and apologize.

...

Yeah, I’m not doing that.

The class sticks to Lila’s version of every story and they don’t believe Damian is THE Damian Wayne, even when a fricking limousine drives up to the school and a butler comes out of it.

---------

Random notes and ideas that don’t really have any sense or anything tbh, but I had them so there you go

About the attack, obviously the school has to inform the parents, right? But, if you're salty enough, you can, oh i don't know, make bustier and/or Damocles not inform them thus creating even more problems for them in the near future. (Yes, i hate bustier and damocles with passion, they’re enablers and Damocles is a gold digger tbh)

One day the french class is at a random restaurant (I’m honestly tempted to put them in Red Robin just for my own entertainment) when the Wayne brothers come in. They recognize them and Lila sees the opportunity, so she goes up to them.

Lila: Hiii Damiii!!!! [Yes, I know this is a real life conversation]

Damian, just done with her: Ugh, not you again.

Tim just kinda glances at her and decides she’s not worth his time.

Jason: What the fuck do you have on your head?

Dick: Oh, Damian, is this your crush or the penpal you despise so much?

Damian: The latter. And i do not have a crush

Lila, who totally stopped listening after she heard “crush”: That’s me!!!!

[Silence]

Damian: Marinette’s over there. Let’s go.

Lila: ;_;

Yeah, it sucks to be Lila.

[I thought I posted this a month ago. I didn’t. What the hell]

#Daminette #damian x marinette #damian wayne #maridami #mlb class salt #lila salt #penpal AU #damian hates lila with burning passion #honestly same #badass marinette #Marinette deserves better #lila ross

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

Text

Nobody asked for this but I'm gonna do it anyways...

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Fluff Alphabet: Takeru/Aguni Edition

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A = Attractive what do they find attractive about the other?

Takeru: only reason he let Aguni wear regular clothes and not swimwear is because he saw ARM in that tank top and was like "oh damn okay 😳." So, y'know, that. (And he'll never admit it but he kinda likes how Aguni is a little bit taller than he is....) Also likes that Aguni has a really dry, deadpan sense of humor—he ways finds a way to make Takeru laugh, even when he's not really trying.

Aguni: I think the physical aspect of things wasn't really a make-or-break for him at first—like, yeah, Takeru's a good-looking guy, but that's secondary. He liked how Takeru is such a live-wire, very loud and colorful and seemingly fearless, no matter what kind of trouble they got into. (But also...he likes the hair. That's a thing for him.)

B = Baby do they want a family? why/why not?

Takeru: If they end up with one somehow, then, sure. But, like. He's not going out of his was to make it a thing. (But also, he has his cat, Ziggy, who he calls his baby, so...)

Aguni: Would secretly love to be a dad but is too worried he might mess the kid up or something. Is more than happy to be 'unofficial parent' to the neighborhood kids, though. Handing out ice pops to the kids that show up at the shop, keeping an eye out and telling them to get home before dark, maybe even showing one or two of them how to throw a better curveball...you know. Real Hallmark channel shit. (And yes, for those who were wondering: Ziggy the cat loves him and often curls up on his lap while he watches TV)

C = Cuddle how do they cuddle?

They don't really "cuddle" outside of bed. Just kinda sit next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, no big deal. But in bed, Aguni lies on his back with his arm sorta outstretched while Takeru...well, my man is worm on a string but OFF the string, he just flops all sorts of ways and a lot of them don't look comfortable but he falls asleep in minutes so whatever.

D = Dates what are dates with them like?

I don't think they do "dates"—they've got a long-term thing going on, so they often end up on the couch eating takeout and watching movies. I think they'd go to the movie theater sometimes (and talk shit for the entire film lol) and every once in a while grab dinner somewhere nice...but, usually because they have some cool limited-time-only dessert item that Takeru insists they try. (And Aguni pretends to be upset about having to get dressed up and go out, but is actually rather pleased to have a little romance...and get something to satisfy his sweet tooth.)

E = Everything you are my ____ (e.g my life, my world…)

Aguni: Emergency Medical Contact

Takeru: Co-Signer On The Apartment Lease

F = Feelings when did they know they were falling in love?

Takeru: About a week after Aguni (drunkenly) confessed his crush. Literally spent a whole week like, "Wow, it's a shame I don't love him back. He's so kind and handsome and smart and funny...too bad, I guess..." until one night he sat up straight in bed and said "Hold up." He then immediately called Aguni and began demanding why Aguni didn't tell him he was in love with him this whole time.

Aguni: They had been friends since they were kids, so it's hard to say when his feelings went from "you're my best friend" to something different. But, once he figured it out, he swore never to mention it because that could complicate their friendship.

G = Gentle are they gentle? If so, how?

Takeru: Yes and no. He's got a bad case of "grabby hands" and often yanks Aguni to and fro to look at something or whatever. Just zero respect for the man's personal space. But otherwise...I imagine he's not particularly rough or gentle, just kind of normal. EXCEPT when it comes to the emotional stuff—like, the real heavy things. I think he's very gentle with that, not asking too many questions and just sort of taking care of him where he can.

Aguni: Generally gentle—physically, emotionally, whatever. But I do think that he's confrontational, like when there's an issue, he comes straight out and asks Takeru what's going on. Even corners him, sometimes. He seems like a "no bullshit" guy, and since Takeru is "Mr. 99% Bullshit" he's gotta deal with it as best he can.

H = Hand/Hold how do they like to hold hands?

The only time they "hold hands" is when Takeru is grabbing Aguni's wrist to drag him somewhere (or run away lol) and when Aguni is pulling Takeru's hand back to stop him from touching something...

I = Impression first impression/s

I headcanon that they met very young, like grade school age. After school, in the park, where Takeru was chilling in a tree and Aguni walked by and he was like "Hey, there's a spider up here, wanna see?" and Aguni is like "Not really, I don't like bugs..." Now, Takeru, being "weird bug kid extraordinaire" can't believe his strange little ears and hops down from the tree and starts explaining why bugs are so cool and that Aguni is wrong...and Aguni listens as this funky, tiny firecracker just talks his damn ear off. Aguni liked how excited Takeru got about things, and Takeru liked how Aguni actually listened to him. And they were fast friends after that!

J = Joker are they into pulling pranks?

Takeru fucks around all the time...and doesn't often find out, because Aguni tolerates all his antics. (To a certain point, but still.) Every once in a while, Aguni will tell some harmless little lie just to watch Takeru freak out—he told him once that Lady Gaga was leaving the music scene forever, and Takeru screamed so loud the neighbors filed a noise complaint.

K = Kisses how do they kiss?

I think they most often do quick pecks—at the breakfast table, when they get home from work. You know. Domestic stuff. But when it's not like that...I think 9/10 times it's Takeru initiating, and Aguni reciprocates by wrapping his arms around him in a big hug (because he likes it but also to keep that skinny little weirdo from wiggling so damn much, he's always moving, he can't just be still—)

L = Love who says I love you first?

Neither! I don't think they really say it at all! Why say something that doesn't need to be said? (At least, that's how they see it...)

M = Memory their favorite moment together

Aguni: It's not really a memory, but...just how they have breakfast together some mornings. Sipping coffee, discussing whatever's going on in the world, the general "togetherness" that comes with it is one of his favorite feelings.

Takeru: The time they spent a full 24 hours in a karaoke booth singing 80's hits and knocking back tequila shots and ordering way too much food.

N = Nickel do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

Takeru: Absolutely buys stuff for Aguni all the time. Mostly random snacks, or little knick-knacks that catch his eye. And also clothes, but...Aguni doesn't always approve.

Aguni: Doesn't buy Takeru stuff BUT leaves vases of flowers he grew on the table for Takeru to find.

O = Orange what color reminds them of their other half

Anything bright and obnoxious reminds Aguni of Takeru—red in particular, which also happens to be Takeru's favorite. And Takeru thinks Aguni has calm and soothing blue-green vibes. Like the ocean, beautiful and serene, but also dark and capable of incredible destruction.

P = Petnames what pet names do they use?

Takeru: All of them. Darling, babe, sweetheart (but he calls everyone those lol). Aguni-specific ones are always over-the-top and ridiculous like "brightest star in all of the heavens..." and he always gets an eye-roll for his efforts.

Aguni: Absolutely does not use pet names. Just says "hey you" or something. Once called Takeru "babe" and Takeru had to stop washing dishes and sit down because he was laughing so hard.

Q = Quaint what is their favorite non-modern thing?

Takeru: I feel like he would collect a ton of vintage stuff—clothes, records, just random little bits and bobs he comes across. But his favorite is definitely his record player—it belonged to his dad, and he keeps it in a place of honor in the hat shop.

Aguni: A set of very old and well-cared-for gardening tools. Takeru got them for him for his birthday, and he legit treasures them.

R = Rainy Day what do they like to do on a rainy day?

Lay on the couch and do literally nothing. Takeru gets the left end, Aguni takes the right, and they binge trash TV shows all day. (And also they make box-mix brownies and eat them straight out of the pan. It's "their thing.")

S = Sad how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Takeru: Aside from all his self-destrictive behaviors (binge-drinking, dangerous situations, etc.) he just really needs a good laugh. And Aguni somehow always manages to make him laugh with an unexpected, deadpan comment. Also, he makes Takeru actually talk through his problems instead of ignoring them...

Aguni: if he's in a bad mood, you just need to let him work through it on his own. He hates being "talked down to" and feels that most attempts at cheering up are cheap, so most people don't attempt. Buf...Takeru is not "most people" and breaks out his most ridiculous jokes to try to get Aguni to crack a smile.

T = Talking what do they love to talk about?

Other people! You know Takeru is the "XOXO Gossip Girl" of the neighborhood, but Aguni...he's like a little old church lady and ADORES hearing all the latest drama.

U = Unencumbered What helps them relax?

Both of them have the same method of relaxation and it's...bubble baths! Aguni does a basic, skin soothing soak and just hangs out in the warm water with a book or maybe just his thoughts to keep him company. But Takeru? He's got some fancy bath soaps, and he takes in a glass of wine and lights a few candles and does a face mask and it's a whole EVENT.

V - Very thoughts about each other

Takeru: Thinks Aguni needs to loosen up and take more risks...but also just loves the guy to pieces.

Aguni: Kinda wishes Takeru would calm tf down sometimes...but also knows that it's just how the guy is and wouldn't dare change him.

W = Wedding when, how, where do they propose?

They're not really the marrying type! They just have a mutual understanding of commitment and that's that.

(But if they did have a wedding... I think it would be a relatively small affair with all their closest friends and family. Like a dinner party, but somewhere extra nice and with lots of good food and alcohol. Intimate and meaningful, with just enough "extra" to satisfy Takeru.)

X = Xylophone What’s their song?

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" because they hid out in a karaoke booth (different from the 24-hour event that Takeru cherishes so much) to es ape the Yakuza and Takeru sang it over and over to pass the time.

Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

"Breaking" to my "Entering." The "Assault" to my "Battery." (They both hate this sort of thing and try to come up with the worst answers possible lol)

Z = Zebra if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

They already have the cat, Ziggy, who is their perfect little angel.

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #imawa no kuni no alice #imawa no kuni no arisu #writings and such #hatter/aguni #aguni morizono

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kitazura · 3 years

Text

it’s the thought that counts, tendō satori

1.6k words of fluff; gn!reader

synopsis: tendō doesn’t understand the excitement surrounding valentine’s day until he decides to celebrate it with you.

notes: i haven’t finished the manga but i’m making timeskip content :D thank u rissie (@sugas-cookie) for beta-ing mwah <3

Tendō’s come to learn that Valentine’s day brings waves of purchases made by eager youth preparing to confess their affections, frantic lovers who’d completely forgotten about the occasion, and other last-minute shoppers looking for gifts to give their loved ones. This year is no different; the orders pile up so quickly he can barely keep up with them.

He’s not complaining—not when his bills are getting paid—he just doesn’t understand why everyone lets themselves get carried away by the Valentine rush. At the root of it all, it’s blatant commercialism, another scheme by society to run your bank account dry through obligatory benevolence, so why play into it? Well, as long as it keeps him in business, he supposes he’ll keep his critiques to himself.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little cynical?” you say when he shares his thoughts, the gentle smile on your lips showing you mean no harm. “I think the idea behind Valentine’s day is charming.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, humming in response. “Why’s that?”

“Isn’t it sweet when someone puts time and effort into something just for you?” you gush. Tendō watches your gaze turn dreamy as your mind wanders off into the clouds. “Like making chocolates for the person you like.”

“That’s what I do for a living, darling.”

“You like all of your customers?”

“Of course; they give me money, after all.”

You laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “I guess it’s hard to romanticize something you do as work.”

You’re not wrong. At some point, it’s expected for your job to lose its magic, no matter how passionate you are about it in the beginning. Chocolate has long lost its allure to Tendō, and now he spends day in and day out pouring it into molds and hurrying to shape it before it hardens beyond salvation. It’s become a chore for him, and even just catching a whiff of a candy bar sends his brain into the stress of work mode.

“What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“What an odd question,” he remarks, clicking his tongue like a fussy mother hen. “I think about what I have to do to make it look presentable, of course. And then I count down the minutes until I come home to you.” He beams, proud of his response.

But pride turns to dismay when he catches a glint of disappointment in your eyes. His expression falls as he pulls you closer. “What’s the matter?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Would you ever make me Valentine’s day chocolates?”

He tilts his head in surprise, then kisses your forehead. “I’d make you chocolate any day; all you have to do is ask.”

You seem to drop the matter, although he swears you sigh, “It’s not the same.”

He spends the next couple of days convincing himself he’d only imagined it, but something about your tone and attitude makes it stick in his brain. Whether you’d said it or not, there was clearly something behind your first question.

He asks you about it over dinner: “Is there a reason you want Valentine-themed chocolates in particular?”

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You laugh a little, surprised. “It’s not the Valentine theme I want; just the knowledge that you’re thinking of me on that day.”

He pesters you to elaborate—he’s always thinking of you, don’t you know that?—but you dodge his questions, leaving him in the dark once more.

Since you won’t give him any answers, he’ll just look for them on his own.

He texts Ushijima that night: “Why do you buy chocolate for the one you love?”

“Because they like it,” comes the reply. It’s simple, straightforward, but it’s not what he’s looking for.

He texts Semi the same question. The response is the length of a school essay, explaining the motivations of love in depths only a poet could reach, but it’s still not enough.

At work, your question echoes in his mind: What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?

What was he supposed to think about aside from the process? His customers?

He looks again at the order he’s making. It’s one he expects every year—it comes a week before Valentine’s, by a man whose wife adores chocolate covered strawberries. Tendō remembers it not only because of its consistency, but also because it’s always preceded by an order by the aforementioned wife, who asks for milk chocolate filled with raspberry créme that her husband is so fond of.

He wonders why they order the same thing at the same time every year. There’s no surprise in it, so what’s the point? Had he been in the husband’s place and you in the wife’s, he’d make sure to buy you something different every year, each present more extravagant than the last. He’d make sure that you’d always have something to look forward to in your married life.

A cheery little tune takes form beneath his breath as he pictures a life with you: silver bands around your fingers, lazy mornings on your days off, walks along the Seine.

He sweeps the excess chocolate off the molds in one clean stroke, sighing dreamily. You would buy a bigger, better apartment once you’d saved up enough, or even move to a quiet little cottage in the countryside.

His thoughts wander through the clouds as he mindlessly flits from one project to the next, forgetting to count the hours until his duty for today is through.

Lately, some of Tendō’s usual customers have been dropping by to say the same thing: there’s something different about his work these days. It’s not negative; on the contrary, actually, the quality’s spiked. But he can’t figure out what he’s been doing differently for the life of him.

It weighs on his mind from the time he clocks in to when he clocks out. He’s been using the same ingredients, the same equipment, so what was it?

His answer arrives in the form of the Chocolate Strawberry man, on the very eve of Valentine’s.

The man enthusiastically shakes Satori’s hand and thanks Him for his work, his hands warm and clammy from excitement despite the biting Parisian air.

“My wife would have liked to come along as well, but she’s preoccupied with the baby,” the man explains. “She wants you to know how much she enjoys your work, though. We look forward to it every year.”

“Then why not buy it off-season, when it’s cheaper?” Tendō asks. The man looks surprised, prompting him to continue. “With all due respect, you order the same thing every year, anyway, so why wait?��

The man laughs at the sincere look of curiosity in the chocolatier’s eyes, patting him on the shoulder, like a father to his son. “Why wait until birthdays to buy a cake? Why wait until Christmas to exchange gifts and set up the tree? It’s old advice, but it’s good: it’s always the thought that counts.” With one last pat on the back and an affectionate chuckle, the man wishes Tendō a good night—“Enjoy tomorrow with your loved ones.”

The stores are packed with the usual extremely last minute rush on Valentine’s morning, and for the first time, Tendō Satori is part of that crowd.

His arms are filled with the goodies he’d woken up early to buy: heavily discounted candies in tacky packages, a cheesy card, a bouquet, an offensively pink stuffed bear, crumpled foil balloons. (He’d made chocolates for you too; those were waiting in the fridge at home.) If it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you wanted, he decided, then it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you’d get.

He’d sent you out to pick up a cake across the city just before he’d left that morning, so the apartment is still empty when he returns. He checks his watch—only half an hour at most until you’d come back. Setting the bear on the counter, he gives it a determined grin.

“Think I can set everything up in fifteen?”

He’s just barely managed tying the balloons closed when he hears the knob on the front door jiggle as you unlock it.

“I’m home!” Your shoes thud to the floor, joined by Tendō’s footsteps as he hurries to help you with the cake. You thank him when he takes it out of your hands and leads you to the dining table while you chatter away. “Boy, did you see how many people are out there? It’s like all of Paris decided to run their errands this morning. It’s a miracle I got the cake here in one piece—what’s all this?”

Tendō grins, proudly motioning to his handiwork. The bouquet sits in the center of the table, surrounded by neatly arranged dishes of your favorite foods. The plush bear sits at the head, the card and candies tucked into its paws. Balloons reading “Happy Valentine’s” are tied to your chairs, gently swaying to and fro in greeting.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I figured you wanted to do something for Valentine’s, but all the restaurants are booked so I had to improvise—”

You cut him off with a kiss, and another, then another. “I love it! I love you and I love”—you wave at the room—“all of this.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me, Satori.”

He laughs as you hug him, squeezing as tight as you can. He thinks back to the strawberry man’s remark, “It’s the thought that counts.” And maybe, just a little, he’s starting to understand that there’s more to Valentine’s than business.

As you prepare the cake and gush over the bear, he pats the pocket of his jacket. The pretty little velvet box would have to wait until after lunch.

postscript: heyyy <3 i stopped writing for like three months srry LMAO but im back in business baby !! if i try hard enough and school stops kicking my ass maybe i’ll start posting twice a month ahaha ... unless?

#haikyuu fluff #tendou fluff #hq fluff #tendou satori #tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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mylittlemystery · 3 years

Text

Tongue Tied

Summary: for someone who usually had such a way with words, it was a rare occurrence for Gundham to find himself at a loss for them.

A/N: I have a total of three brain cells remaining, and all of them have been starving for some ‘lee Gundham content.

Sonia glanced up from her book when she felt the mattress dip beside her, and a warm smile graced her lips once she recognized it was none other than her boyfriend. “Gundham!” she chirped as she marked her place and set the book aside on her nightstand. Reading could wait until later - spending time with her lover was much more important. “How can I help you?”

Surprisingly enough, Gundham was rather quiet. He wasn’t usually one to actively seek out physical affection, so this situation was already strange enough as it is. He rubbed his forearm rhythmically, multicolored eyes taking up a striking interest in the wrinkled bed sheets beneath them, and his typically pale skin almost looked like it had been airbrushed with a baby pink hue. “U-um,” he muttered under his breath, already quiet words muffled even further by the large scarf covering his mouth.

Sonia’s previously cheerful expression melted into one of careful concern, and she scooted her body closer to the other’s after a moment’s hesitation. “Gundham? Is something the matter?” she inquired softly before resting a palm atop his bandaged hand. “If there’s something bothering you, you can always tell me…”

“N-no!” Gundham exclaimed with a sudden ferocity as he snatched his hand away. Immediately realizing that he had raised his voice a little too much, he recoiled back into himself like a wounded puppy. “It’s nothing like that,” he elaborated in a much gentler tone than before. “It’s just...I...I just…”

Sonia found herself at a loss for words for a moment as well - she had never seen the ordinarily prideful man in such a state. She knew that it was impolite to pry, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the other like this. “Just what?” she echoed softly, raising a hand to cup one of those flushed cheeks.

Gundham flinched ever so slightly at the unannounced physical contact, but he made no move to stop his lover’s advancements. “W-would you…” It wasn’t that he had wanted to pause - rather, it was as if his very voice had been abruptly ripped away from him. Damn it...he was feared by countless beings, both mortal and supernatural alike! He shouldn’t be so easily overcome by such a harmless request! “...Would you perform that mortal ac-activity with me again?” he finally managed to choke out.

Sonia blinked obliviously, taking a minute to recall the events the two had participated in during the past week. “Do...do you mean tickling…?”

Judging by how red the other’s face grew at the mere mention of the word, it appeared that her shot in the dark had landed. “If...if that’s what you call it, yes,” Gundham murmured, seemingly trying to bury his head in the protective cocoon his scarf provided.

It was safe to say that Sonia’s heart melted at this downright adorable reaction, and a tender grin spread across her mouth. “Aw, of course I can!” she gushed without truly meaning to - seeing her boyfriend like this was just too cute for her to handle. “There’s no need for you to be so embarrassed over something like that.”

“F-foolish girl! An Overlord such as myself does not fall prey to such trivial enchantments!” Gundham insisted in an attempt to recover some of his lost ego, but it wasn’t very convincing when he still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the other.

Clearly, Sonia didn’t buy the act (if her bubbly giggle was anything to go off of, that is). “Alright then! Lie down so we can do this properly!” she instructed merrily as she gave his chest a delicate prod.

Gundham did as he was told, face practically turning into a radiator with how much heat was pouring off it, laying on his back with his arms crossed like a little beetle stuck on its shell. His legs began fidgeting ever so slightly, feet toying with the top sheet beneath them anxiously. It was clear he was nervous, but not in the typical manner one might expect; this was a giddy sort of nervousness, one a child might experience when playing tag with their friends.

Sonia definitely wasn’t going to take this opportunity for granted, and she took some time to relish in the sight presented before her. The Forbidden One was as red as a tomato, his gaze focusing anywhere but on her own, and his normally carefully guarded body was being offered to her like the greatest gift she ever could have imagined. It made a sense of immense humility blossom within her heart; she felt absolutely honored to be trusted by the other to this extent. Finally, figuring she had kept him waiting long enough, she slipped her hands underneath his shirt and began skittering her well kept nails along the seldom touched flesh.

It didn’t take long at all for Gundham to burst into a flurry of tiny titters, his hands instinctively lowering themselves to push at those of his lover. “Nnnnnh! G-guhuhuhahahaaa!” His smile was much softer than his ordinary sneer, closed eyelids wrinkling at the corners with forced mirth, and his laugh sounded much lighter as well.

“You have such a wonderful laugh, Gundham,” Sonia gushed without really realizing it. “I’m so happy you’ll let me see you like this...all giggly and flustered!” A few giggles of her own mingled with those of her lover’s as she watched his plethora of reactions, her fingers continuing their devious dance along the expanse of quivering flesh.

Gundham didn’t think it was possible for his face to grow any redder than it already was, but this line of complimenting proved him sorely mistaken. He turned to bury his head into one of the many pillows beneath him, hoping that this would succeed in hiding his atypical demeanor, but all this did was result in the earlier scratches turning to gentle kneading. He barked out a laugh as he instinctually brought his knees to his chest, or, rather, into his beloved’s lower back.

Sonia clicked her tongue in mock chastise at this, shaking her head solemnly as if the other was nothing more than a particularly naughty pet. “Trying to hide yourself away from my claws?” she hummed as her formerly adoring smile morphed into one of a much more devious nature. She couldn’t help herself - she took a great fondness in teasing her brooding boyfriend to smithereens. “Silly dear...you know they’ll just find a way to keep on tickling~”

Gundham couldn’t hold back his yelp of surprise when he felt one of those dangerously long nails twirl inside his navel, and he fell into a bundle of chest shaking chortles. Words certainly seemed to hold an immense amount of power over him, what with his frantic clambering to hide his face behind his forearms, so it was no wonder that these sultry laden quips were making him feel weak in the knees. Still, he had to keep his composure. He wouldn’t dare surrender to something so light hearted!

“That’s right, love. Giggle all day!” Sonia cooed as she gradually let up on the area, her fingers idly tapping against the still quaking abdomen. “My goodness, you’re all aflush! I suppose not even the Supreme Overlord of Ice is a match for the Tickle Monster…”

...On second thought, he was surely going to die here. Swallowing down the antsy lump in his throat, Gundham affixed the best glare he could manage given the circumstances against those icy blue eyes. “You...you truly are a wicked enchantress…”

An unusually dark titter slipped from Sonia’s lips as she batted her lashes down at her captive innocently. “But of course~! And now that I’ve got you in my clutches, I have to wonder just what I’ll do with you…” She raised her hands so they were now at her sides, fingers wiggling in anticipation, looking the other up and down like he was the tastiest meal she’d ever laid eyes upon. “I could keep playing with this ticklish tummy for a while…”

More deep chuckles escaped from Gundham as the scribbling on his stomach resumed.

“Maybe I could play piano on your ribs…”

Delicate tapping soon followed, earning the princess a trifle of squirming.

“Maybe I could burrow under your arms…”

Said action won an outright snort.

“I could even play This Little Piggy with your toes~!”

Though she made no actual followthrough to these words, Gundham couldn’t help but bury his feet into the mattress protectively.

“Or maybe…”

The Dark Lord’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden silence that overpowered the room, his gaze trained on the surely rising claws of his demise. He felt so utterly meek in this position, so inconsequential and powerless, and it made an unfamiliar feeling brew in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps this was what humans meant when they referred to another as being bashful…?

“I’ll get at that cute little neck of yours!”

Gundham was rudely tugged away from his inner thoughts by the horrid sensation of...well, he didn’t quite know exactly what it was, but it was enough to make him explode with powerful belly laughter. “AHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” His lower half thrashed to and fro violently as if his very existence itself was determined to escape this predicament. “WH-WHAHAT IS THAHAHAHAHAT?!”

“What, you’ve never had a raspberry before?” Sonia asked dumbfoundedly, momentarily dropping her sadistic creature act. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at things), she recovered just as quickly. “Well then, I’ll guess we’ll just have to make up for it now~!” Preparing herself with a dramatically loud inhalation of breath, she blew against the other’s typically concealed neck once again.

To say that Gundham was hysterical would’ve been a major understatement; his throaty cackles were reverberating off the walls with the intensity of a clap of thunder. “NOHOHOHOHOHOOO!” he wailed desperately as yet another raspberry was delivered, creeping up to the edge of his sanity, clutching the other’s long strands of hair weakly. “IHI YIEHEHEHEHELD!” he cried out at last. “M-MEHEERCEEEHEHEHEE!”

With this dire call for reprieve, Sonia ceased her consensual torment immediately. Her smile melted back into the warm one others were more accustomed to seeing, and she delicately rubbed her thumb underneath the edge of his jawline. “Oh, love...I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away,” she mumbled sheepishly. “I do hope I didn’t go too far...did I?”

Taking some time to steady his breathing to a level he was satisfied with, Gundham gently shook his head. “I...I found that to be quite...entertaining,” he admitted in a hushed whisper, as though he was uttering a forgotten secret, his eyes shifting around the room awkwardly. “Th-thank you, my bunny…”

Sonia felt her own face grow hot at the sound of the beloved nickname, not hesitating to plant a kiss of appreciation on the tip of the other’s nose. “Of course!”

Gundham sighed as he wrapped his arms around her slender frame. She was a devious little minx, that much was for certain, and he’d managed to get tightly coiled around her little finger...

#writing #fanfiction #danganronpa #gundham tanaka #sonia nevermind #sondam #tickle #tickling #tickles #tickled #ticklish #my stuff #lmao this is the most self indulgent shit ive ever made

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] 3rd Anniversary Love Carnival - Shaw

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Shaw’s Prologue: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here

[ PART ONE ]

The moment we step into the amusement park, I see that a small stall not too far away is surrounded by people.

MC: That place seems very crowded...

I lift my head, noticing that curiosity has also surfaced in Shaw’s eyes.

With a slight curl of his lips, he tilts his chin towards the front.

Shaw: Let’s take a look.

In front of the small stall--

Shaw: ...why’s this thing so popular?

Shaw frowns, unable to comprehend what’s before him.

Frog eyes, bows, bee feelers... the stall is filled with all sorts of headbands.

Couples are bantering with each other while selecting appropriate styles for the other party.

Shaw bends down, leaning towards my ear--

Shaw: Don’t they feel silly wearing those things?

I find myself chuckling. Then, I hurriedly retract it. When I realise that the people around aren’t paying attention to us, I respond softly.

MC: Don’t you see how happy they look? Also, these headbands even come with earmuffs, and can keep one warm in winter.

Looking at how furry the earmuffs are, I feel as though wearing them would definitely keep me very warm.

Shaw: It’s not even cold today... Are you cold?

I shake my head.

MC: Even if it’s not for keeping one warm, it’s so cute just to wear them.

I walk forward. After sweeping a glance over them, I select a headband, wearing it on my head.

MC: Isn't it cute?

I turn to look at Shaw, and the white halo on the headband sways gently along with my action.

After looking me up and down, his brows arch slightly.

Shaw: ...I think--

Boss: Cute, cute!

The boss of the small stall shoots me a thumbs up. Then, he takes another headband from the rack, recommending it to us enthusiastically.

Boss: Cute girl, these two come in a set. If you buy them together, there’s a discount!

I look at it, noticing that the headband in his hand has two red horns which are sparkling and emitting light.

Shaw glances at it too, his eyes revealing some distaste.

After some thought, I make a decision.

MC: No need, I’ll just get this one.

I point at the headband I’m currently wearing, rejecting the boss’ suggestion with a smile. However, he doesn’t give up.

Boss: Consider it again? A handsome man and a beautiful woman - if the two of you wear them together, it’d be very matching!

MC: There’s really no need.

Faced with the boss’ repeated suggestions, I remain vehement, sticking to my principle of “only buying one”.

As Shaw listens at the side, his brows become increasingly furrowed. In the end, he can’t help but speak.

Shaw: You don’t want to wear it with me that much?

MC: Of course not.

Laughing on the inside, I pretend to make a surprised expression, waving my hands in front of him.

MC: I just think you definitely wouldn’t wear it. After all... you said this was very silly, right?

Shaw watches me quietly. After two seconds, he suddenly speaks.

Shaw: Did I say that?

MC: ?!

This time, I’m genuinely shocked. I didn’t expect him to take back what he just said. He actually didn’t admit what he had done.

Shaw: Even if I did say it, that was just now. It doesn’t reflect my present thoughts.

He says this with self-confidence. Seeing that I’m speechless, Shaw averts his eyes leisurely, turning to the boss in a good mood.

Shaw: Boss. How much for two?

[ PART TWO ]

For the first ride, Shaw pulls me towards one of the main attractions – the U-shaped roller coaster.

While seated, I grip the safety bar tightly.

As though sensing that I’m slightly nervous, Shaw leans over, his tone teasing.

Shaw: It’s all right. If you’re scared, just scream. I promise I wouldn’t laugh at you.

I. Don’t. Believe. That!

Keeping my expression blank, I keep my eyes forward.

MC: What a joke. I’m not scared at all.

Shaw: Really? How about this. Let’s make a bet. Whoever exclaims first will have to accept a punishment. How’s that?

Seeing the unconcealed challenge in his eyes, I nod, refusing to appear weak.

MC: Sure! I’m not scared!

Everyone else: Ahhhhhhhhh–

Both the exclamations from the crowd and the U-shaped roller coaster are tossed to the skies. The strong centrifugal force causes my heart rate to speed up as the coaster moves to and fro.

I shut my eyes, gritting my teeth–

I’m determined not to make a sound!

As though he guesses what I’m thinking, Shaw’s voice is suddenly at my ear.

Shaw: Just scream if you’re scared–

I respond to him loudly.

MC: I’m not scared–

The gradually increasing inertia and gravity tosses us to and fro, and it’s so fast that it’s as though even our shadows can’t keep up with us.

My hand subconsciously flies in the air, and I cling onto something subconsciously. Instinctively, I grip it tightly–

??: Mm–!!

When we return to the ground, I seem to have been given a second life, my face glowing and radiant.

MC: It’s finally over!

However, Shaw’s expression is in clear contrast to mine. The earlier excitement is completely gone from his face.

With a dark expression, he twists his wrist.

Shaw: You’ve got quite a lot of strength…

A little embarrassed, I release a soft cough. I didn’t think that the thing I had grabbed in my frantic state was actually Shaw’s hand.

Shaw: Say it. What do you want me to do?

MC: Huh?

I hesitate for a moment, then realise that he’s referring to the bet earlier.

MC: Just forget about it…

Looking at the indistinct nail marks on Shaw’s hand, and out of the kindness of my heart, I decide to divert the conversation topic. However, Shaw has no intention to do so.

Shaw: Do I look like the type of person who doesn’t keep his word? Since I promised you, I’ll do it.

Given his insistence, I no longer decline. So, I hold my chin and start thinking.

What kind of punishment would be good? After some thought, I shoot him a brilliant smile.

MC: First, lower your head. It isn’t convenient at this height.

Shaw is stunned for a moment. He frowns, his expression a little odd.

Shaw: Are you thinking of…

MC: Also, close your eyes.

Shaw’s expression turns even stranger. He seems to be somewhat uneasy, but still does what I say and bends down, shutting his eyes tight.

Shaw: You’ve got quite a number of tricks up your sleeve…

Hands behind my back, I shift nearer to Shaw.

Sensing my closeness, his brows twitch slightly.

With Shaw’s face so close to me, I chuckle–

Then, I reach out to give him a flick on the forehead.

Shaw: [hissing in pain] Ss–

Shaw’s eyes snap open, and he looks slightly muddled and lost.

Witnessing this rare expression, I rein in my laughter, nodding in satisfaction.

MC: You’re always flicking my forehead. This time, we’re even.

Shaw: …

MC: …what’s wrong?

Shaw: …very good. Just you wait.

[ PART THREE ]

Because of the sheer number of people in the cafeterias, Shaw and I decide to buy some food from the small stalls to fill our stomachs.

He places the big bag on a bench, taking out two character-shaped snacks.

After comparing them, Shaw hands me the one decorated with pink bows.

MC: What’s this?

Shaw: You’ll know if you eat it.

Saying this, he sits down beside me.

Even when it comes to things like this, he wants to keep one in suspense. While grumbling in my heart, I give it a bite. Sweetness fills my mouth in an instant.

MC: …bean paste bun?

I look at the bun in Shaw’s hand which he’s also taken a bite out of, and realise that it has minced meat in it. Curious, I ask him:

MC: Why does yours have minced meat stuffing while mine has bean paste stuffing?

Shaw pauses.

Shaw: Huh? Don’t you girls like eating sweet food?

A twinge of confusion flashes in his eyes. Giving it some thought, I try to explain.

MC: People’s tastes can’t be generalised. For example, no matter when or where, I like eating minced meat.

Shaw: …how troublesome.

Shaw mutters, then splits the meat bun into two, giving half of it to me.

Shaw: Take it.

Stunned, I look at the bun in his hand, and don’t take it.

MC: I wasn’t asking you to share it with me… Is half of it enough for you?

Shaw: There are other snacks in the bag. Also, I wasn’t that hungry to begin with.

MC: In that case… I won’t hold back!

I happily accept the meat bun. After taking a few bites, I release a contented sigh.

MC: So delicious!

Shaw: It is?

Shaw’s brows arch, and he looks at the meat bun in his hand.

Shaw: I think it’s average. It’s just a normal bun.

MC: This is something you don’t know. When you share food with someone, it becomes even more delicious.

I shoot him a confident smile.

After a pause, Shaw shrugs, not expressing an opinion.

Half of the bun is finished quickly. Shaw lifts up his Cola at the side, twisting off the bottle cap. Just before he drinks it, he pauses.

Shaw: Oh, I’ve won a prize.

His indifferent tone is mixed with a hint of satisfaction.

Leaning over to take a look, I discover that the words “One Free Bottle” is written on the bottle cap.

My heart stirs, and I excitedly lift up the Cola by my side.

MC: I’ll take a look too–

Shaw: How is it?

MC: …

Silently, I twist the bottle cap back, and take a bite out of my meat bun. A light chuckle drifts to my ears.

Shaw: Looks like it isn’t anything much.

MC: My luck isn’t good this time, that’s all.

I pout, rifling in the bag for a cheese hotdog.

Just when I open my mouth to eat it, Shaw suddenly leans over, giving it a bite.

Shaw: Mm, the taste isn’t bad.

MC: …didn’t you say you weren’t hungry?

Shaw: I’m just verifying what you said. Looks like it’s true - when you share food with someone, it does taste a little better.

The corners of Shaw’s lips curl upwards, a flash of triumph flashes across his eyes.

MC: …you’re just toying with me, aren’t you.

Shaw: You’re not wrong.

He smiles, tossing his head back as he downs the Cola. Then, he hands the bottle cap in his hand to me.

Shaw: Here.

MC: What do you want?

Shaw: I don’t know if sharing luck will help you become luckier. Test it out for me.

[ PART FOUR ]

Ghost masks on sale are hung on the dark red wall. The masks have a sense of antiquity to them, and their bewitching and bizarre appearances look utterly terrifying.

Simply standing at the entrance of the haunted house makes one feel deeply frightened. And the rule of “Only one person can enter at one time” causes several people to shrink away.

Shaw and MC: …

Shaw: Got the guts?

MC: What’s there to be afraid of?

Shaw: You first, or me?

MC: …I’ll go first.

With a solemn expression, I prepare to enter. However, my wrist is suddenly gripped by Shaw, and he pulls me back.

Shaw: Wait. I’ll give you something.

I can feel him stuffing something into my hand.

Unfurling my hand, I see a string of Buddhist prayer beads laying quietly in my palm.

MC: …

Shaw: Have a pleasant journey.

In the pitch-black and narrow pathway, I bite the bullet and move forward at a tortoise’s pace. My hands continuously twist the prayer beads, muttering to myself.

MC: Whether you’re a monster, demon, or ghost, don’t come and scare me, don’t come and scare me…

Thud–

Footsteps sound from behind me, and the hair on my body immediately stands on end.

I’m rooted to the spot. After a few seconds, when I muster the courage to turn around, a hand plops onto my left shoulder.

MC: !!!

At this moment, my blood seems to freeze.

I quietly wait for two seconds, but nothing happens. Suddenly, there’s a twinge of hope in my heart–

Maybe it’s Shaw!

Thinking of how he usually likes to play tricks on me, I become even more certain of my guess.

With a deep breath, I give myself some courage and turn my head.

MC: Shaw–

??: Fuu…….

MC: …

MC: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH–

With a speed which human eyes can’t capture, I huddle and curl into a corner, using my hand to cover my left ear, sensing goosebumps spreading across my entire body.

Along with my heartrending exclamation, a stream of chuckles resound at the same time.

??: It’s me.

Silvery white electricity appears in the darkness.

The person who’s speaking walks over to me. He squats down, a smile hanging on his lips, looking as though his prank has succeeded.

Shaw: Who was the one who made a solemn vow that she wouldn’t be scared?

I glare angrily at the person before me.

MC: I knew it was you! When you deliberately scare someone, of course they’d be scared! It’s an instinctive reaction. Also, you can scare someone to death, you know!

Weakly and helplessly, I hug myself tight. My voice is also trembling slightly.

He seems to be at a slight loss. After a while, he speaks.

Shaw: …fine, I was wrong this time.

Perhaps genuinely feeling apologetic, Shaw pauses, his voice also a little more gentle.

Shaw: Hey, want to know a way so you wouldn’t be scared?

MC: …what is it?

I lift my head from my knees in curiosity.

He offers me a hand, his eyes crinkling slightly, filled with a wilful light.

Shaw: Follow me and they won’t scare you.

Shaw and I hold hands as we continue down this cramped pathway.

Because he’s by my side, I feel much more composed.

Female ghost: I’m~ Filled~ With~ Hatred…

All of a sudden, a hand plops onto my shoulder. Shaw and I pause in our footsteps.

I subconsciously tighten my grip on Shaw’s hand. In the next moment, I feel him returning the gesture with a squeeze.

Courage fills my heart. With this, Shaw and I turn around together…

??: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH–

Another shrill cry fills the pathway.

This time, however, the cry doesn’t belong to me, but to the “female ghost” with dishevelled hair.

Shaw extinguishes the electricity in his hand. He removes the ghost masks we saw at the entrance earlier, and laughs.

Shaw: If you want to scare me, you’ve got to put in more practise.

[ PART FIVE ]

Just as I’m vexed on which attraction to head to next, the blare of a trumpet, followed by an announcement, can be heard in the park–

The “Bumper Boats” ride is holding a competition, and the winner will be awarded a surprise grand prize.

My curiosity is piqued, and I drag Shaw over.

At the venue, I discover that the way this bumper boat ride works is pretty similar to bumper cars. It’s just that the road is replaced with water, and there’s an additional tool – water guns.

I shoot Shaw an expectant gaze, and he purses his lips.

Shaw: I’m not playing. This is far too boring, and not exciting at all.

Looking at the electronic screen displaying the rankings, I continue attempting to persuade him.

MC: But the person in first place will win a surprise grand prize…

Shaw: So what? I never do boring things.

15 minutes later–

Shaw: Hey, you’re way too stupid.

Watching as Shaw holds the water gun and sprays it at me from the front, I can’t help but grumble internally – he was so unwilling just now, but ended up having more fun than anyone else.

With agile movements, I dodge that stream of water, then raise the water gun in my hand.

MC: You should watch out. I’m going to get serious now!

Shaw grins, a dazzling light flashing in his eyes.

Shaw: Bring it on.

As time trickles by, and because of how furiously we’re playing, our names on the board keep ascending the digital board.

But this also successfully stirs up the fighting spirit of others. Suddenly, we’re surrounded by opponents.

Just as I prepare to launch an attack on Shaw, the boat is struck violently by another boat. Unsteady, I find myself smacked against the steering wheel.

MC: Ahh–!

Shaw and I take a look, and see a younger man with permed hair waving his water gun at us teasingly.

Younger man: Come on! The first place belongs to me–!

Shaw: Tch, he dares to hit my person. He’s doomed.

Shaw furrows his brow, upset. He adjusts the steering wheel, turning around to look at me.

Shaw: I’m avenging you. Why are you in a daze? Catch up quickly.

MC: …who’s in a daze.

After saying this, I turn the steering wheel, stepping on the accelerator–

But my heart rate subconsciously speeds up.

With the blow of a whistle from the staff, the competition draws to an end.

Shaw and I break through, seizing the first and second places.

Staff: Congratulations to the both of you! You have both won the surprise grand prize of this competition! You’ll have the opportunity to have a group photo with this park’s auspicious “Flame Dragon”!

Shaw and I stand in front of the Flame Dragon statue. After a short silence, he suddenly speaks.

Shaw: Don’t you find it boring to take a photo like this?

MC: What idea do you have this time?

After staring at me for a while, he suddenly chuckles softly, lifting a corner of his lips.

Shaw: This time, let’s not show our ugliest expressions. Let’s do something more surprising.

I can’t help but be confused.

MC: “More surprising”?

After saying this, the staff’s voice can be heard.

Staff: Get ready for the photo. 3– 2– 1–

Before I can think, Shaw’s face suddenly looms closer–

I subconsciously stop breathing. It’s akin to a tiny firework blooming at the tip of my heart with a “pa”.

Ka cha–

With the sound of the shutter, this moment is captured forever.

Fireworks event: here

#this is just a re-post of the love carnival translations!#I'm doing some mild renovations to the blog so don't mind me!#the previous translations were split according to parts rather than love interest which I find really disjointed!

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jeogiyall · 4 years

Text

Pas De Deux; H.HJ

Word Count; 9.7k

Genre; Fluff, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Reader X Hyunjin

Warnings; Swearing, Suggestive, I would advise against reading if you have abandonment issues? It’s brought up a few times,,

Additional; Featured Chan, Felix, Jisung, and Minho; Ballerina Reader, Dance Partner Hyunjin, Reid once again writing about something that she has no idea how to do, (Sort Of) Slow Burn

A/N; when i tell u guys that i literally have no self control,, THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THIS WAS 10.46K ASFDSFS someone save me from myself. i’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate, i haven’t done ballet since i was like five and most of my research is from the unreliable internet,,, so if any ballerinas read this and are repulsed i’m sorry asdfdsa. please leave something nice if you enjoy <3<3<3<3

The last time that you saw Hwang Hyunjin was in fifth grade. You were wrapped up in each other on your front porch, him choking out tears as though it hurt.

“Jinnie!” You cooed while running a hand through his short black hair, “I’m not dying, just going to boarding school!” His cries (along with the ringing guilt in your ears) only grew louder, “You’re really good at dancing, just audition next year!” He shook his head fervently against the crook of your shoulder, wet tears falling onto your skin.

“You know I suck at ballet!” If it weren’t for his palms pulling at his teary cheeks you would’ve giggled, maybe even teased him for the time in class that he almost broke his wrist while warming up at the barre. But he was crying, he was sad, and he was convinced that he’d never see you again. The sight alone was enough to make you pout, which only served to make him cry harder, “You could join my contemporary class for the summer?” He asked with starry, red eyes. It was almost enough to make you say yes.

“You know that I suck at contemporary!” The boy giggled at your counter, a sound that made your heart soar amidst all of the crying.

“Yea, you do...” He brought a hand up to his cheeks, trying desperately to wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “Just promise that you won’t forget me! I won’t forget you so you can’t forget me!” His pinky finger extended so it was nearly brushing the spot in between your eyebrows, and you were hit by the whispers of your first crush. With the summer days spent riding scooters in your driveway, and the winter ones spent sledding in it. With the long nights spent giggling about nothing underneath a blanket fort, or the endless days spent climbing trees in the bottomless woods behind the boys house. You were hit with the last five years all at once, and you knew instantly that even if he wasn’t standing in front of you with a teary face that you would still promise.

“I promise.” You answered while hooking your pinky in his as if it were a vow.

The school ended up being a perfect fit, your favorite part being the dorm room all to yourself. Even though it was small, and very ugly, it was all yours. Just like the friend group that blossomed out of your first ever co-ed class (which is sadly not a very interesting story. Han Jisung just made you swear to not dislocate his shoulders during partner stretches, and who are you to break a promise? Afterwards you received an invite to sit with him and his friend at lunch, the rest is history. Loud, annoying history.)

Nothing could’ve made it better... Well, nothing except for your sweet friend who had once occupied each thought in your head. Your sweet friend who’s summers were suddenly too full to see you, even for just a day.

Your sweet friend who didn’t keep his promise.

When it was announced that the contemporary and ballet branches of your dance institute would be merging for a year, your mind immediately jumped to Hyunjin. Despite not seeing him for almost six years. He always had such a passion for the style, making you miss out on hours of homework to watch videos of his favorite performers (it’s not like you minded too much, though.)

Han’s, on the other hand, was pure rage. Pure rage which he was letting out from your bed while watching you unpack.

“I just don’t get why they have to take a ballet class too! I have enough trouble getting solos as is.” The boy pouts while resting his head on your orange wood headboard. You’d feel sympathetic if it weren’t for the fact that he was blatantly lying, Han Jisung had gotten nearly every solo since eighth grade. Instead you roll your eyes dramatically and throw him a wadded ball of fabric from your suitcase. Naturally, he screams.

“Shut the fuck up and be helpful.” You scold, earning a childish whine while he sits up to fold the countless leotards.

“Remind me why I missed you?” He grumbles just as your other, much nicer, friend walks into the cramped room.

“Aww, you missed me Sungie?” Felix asks, voice booming deeply through the space. The two of you instantly drop the clothes in your hands and run to the boy, which you should reprimand Jisung for seeing as he just lifted a finger. But you don’t, because Felix is here with more freckles than the last time you saw him and fresh pink hair that’s definitely going to be dyed natural again within the first week.

“Yes.” The energetic boy answers while worming his way into your hug. Felix giggles softly while petting Han’s dark brown hair before pressing noisy kisses all over his cheeks. He pokes Felix’s ribs as retaliation, to which the boy screeches (directly into your ear, might I add,) and it’s back to the normal, loud chaos “I will kill you!”

“Hey! No murder in my room, if you’re gonna do that go in the hallway!” You snap playfully, pushing Jisung away while moving back into the hug, “Help me unpack? Jisung hasn’t done shit.”

“Not fair!” The boy shouts from your bed, which he’s already plopped back down on.

“I’ll help, besides do you even want him folding your clothes?” You look over your shoulder to see Jisung with his hands tangled up in three different leotards, then back to Felix with terrified eyes.

‘No,’ you mouth, eliciting another laugh from your friend. He moves over to the bed as well, then sets Jisungs hands free. The three of you talk mindlessly for hours, rambling on about Felix’s summer home and the month that you and Jisung spent traipsing around the boys hometown.

“How do you feel about the merger?” You ask suddenly, cutting Jisung off in the middle of an embarrassing story about a night spent at his house. Felix sighs deeply while tossing you the rolled leotard (your favorite one, light blue with pearls sewn around the collar,) while Jisung throws a wadded up pair of tights at your face.

“It’s fine I guess, just for a year right?” You shrug while the brunette puts on a grimace, hands suddenly very busy with folding, “They really need that rebuild, building’s falling apart. Ours is way better and we have extra room, so why not share?”

“Tell that to the rat in my mini fridge.” Han grumbles while passing you a pile of black leotards. You laugh and accept, but not before ruffling his stiff hair.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to do that the next time I’m in your room. Are you done bitching now?” The brunette pokes his tongue out at you jokingly, to which you respond with blowing a raspberry, “Felix is right, besides how terrible is it going to be? We’re all dancers right, and stuff like that is meant to be shared. Who are we to say that they can’t come and learn?” The room turns uncomfortably quiet, Jisung gnawing at his lower lip while Felix picks up his phone.

“Damn it!” The Australian exclaims as his screen lights up. You and Han look at him with furrowed eyebrows before he rolls his eyes and brings the phone up in between your faces, “Administration says I have to fix my hair.”

Han doubles over with laughter, knocking the mountain of leotards (followed shortly by himself) onto the floor. You follow his lead, and before you know it the three of you are clutching your sides and wiping away happy tears. Felix’s hands ruffle into your hair with a hum, “Maybe I can try Jisungs color, hmm?” You duck away with a snort.

“No! I draw the line at matching hair!” The brunette defends, hands moving to cover the top of his head. Felix lunges at him, fully ready to engage in a tickle fight. Naturally, Jisung screams as if he’s being murdered. It should be annoying, any other time you would find it annoying. But these are your best friends, one of which you haven’t seen in over a month, and for some odd reason your heart feels so full that it could explode.

“C’mon Lix, I’ll do your hair. What do you think about blonde?”

And even though tomorrow your school is going to be flooded with new people, and your classes full of students who have probably never done more than basic positions, in the moment it feels okay. Because one of your best friends is screaming ‘NO DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!’ while the other assures him that ‘It’ll probably most likely be okay! Look, she did mine!’ It’s a perfect chaos that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

There have been plenty of strange coincidences in your life. Like how your first dog was named Felix, and it’s now the name of one of your best friends (who’s hair ended up looking perfectly fine, thank you very much.) Or how your usual waiter at the diner in Jisungs hometown ended up being the cousin of your first kiss. Or how your dorm room is the only one on the hall with painted walls, that just so happen to be your favorite color. Plenty of weird things, but none are as weird as this. Because you’re sitting on the floor of your second class of the day, ‘Intro To Pas De Deux,’ and Hwang Hyunjin has just entered through the side door. Two minutes late.

He’s hard to recognize at first, seeing as there’s more than an added foot of height and black hair that’s creeping down the back of his neck, but the more you look the more you recognize. Pillowy lips, full cheeks, a freckle right in the set of his eye bags. You’re not entirely sold until he laughs, a sweet and breathy sound. The laugh that’s always been three seconds away from turning into a wheeze.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung questions while pulling himself up by your hands, eyes following the line that yours draw to Hyunjin, “Do you know him or something?”

You’re about to answer when Hyunjin finally turns around, eyes scanning the room before settling on you. He thinks that you look different, too. Taller and slimmer, everything that used to be squishy replaced with soft muscle. But there’s also the bridge of your nose, your hands that are barely gripping Jisungs, and of course your eyes that are staring at him like it hurts.

“(Y/n?)” He questions, your name falling from his lips as though it’s meant to do so. You nod, mouth falling open dumbly. The boy takes a step forward then freezes.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on? Or at least help me finish stretching?” Jisungs voice reeks of annoyance, you think that if you weren’t in such a state of shock that you’d flick him on the forehead.

“You go to the contemporary school?” Jisung doesn’t take well to being ignored, puffing loudly while scrambling to finish stretching at the barre. Your brain immediately flashes back to Hyunjins second ballet class in third grade, when you were teaching him your favorite warm up stretches. He ended up tangled in between the barre and the wall, which shouldn’t even be possible, but Hyunjin managed.

“Um... Yea.” Every inch of your body is screaming to stand up and engulf him in a hug, but your legs feel like jello. That, and there’s a small feeling of anger rising in your throat, “L-let me help.” He plops down in front of you before you can say yes. You don’t have to though, Hyunjin still knows that you can’t refuse him. You take his hands in yours, definitely ignoring the pink flush to his cheeks, and pull his torso towards you.

“It’s been six years.” The words come out choked, full of the pain from your first summer without him. When you’d spend hours playing out in the sun, knocking on your friends front door every morning. He was never there.

“Sorry.” You want him to show some type of emotion, let you know that he cares. That he’s actually sorry for breaking his promise, “I tried to come and see you in July but you weren’t home.”

“I was at Jisung’s house, we spend the summers together.” If you were more angry and less hurt you would say ‘now that I don’t spend them with you,’ but he’s still Hyunjin. He’s still Hyunjin, and you don’t think that you could handle the way he would frown at your snide remark.

Jisung flashes you a look from his place at the barre that reads ‘Who is this guy and why do you look so sad?’ You let Hyunjin pull you into the stretch while responding with a gaze that says ‘I’ll tell you later.’ Hyunjins grip tightens on your hands as you exhale deeply into the stretch, the light blue fabric of your leotard brushing against the dance studio floor.

“(Y/n,) I-” Maybe it’s the way that he licks his lips before talking, or the fact that he looks so much and so little like your best friend at the same time, or possibly even how you can feel the way that he hugged you at your last meeting sitting on your shoulders like a winter coat, but his hands suddenly feel like fire.

“I have to go!” You exclaim, popping up out of the stretch and onto your feet in one swift motion. The boy looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that spark a feeling so intense in you that you have to look away, “I have to go, I-I’ll um... I’ll see you around.” You dash off to the spot in front of Jisung, silently thanking every star in the sky that Hyunjin doesn’t have a chance to follow you. Because just as soon as you get up someone else sits down and begins to excitedly ask the boy questions (he’s short, with a petite frame and an unfamiliar face. Probably another transfer student.)

“Did he say something to you?” Jisung asks as you jump into your favorite warm up routine. There’s not really a right way to answer, because did he say anything just now? No, but six years ago he said that he’d never forget you. He promised as much, and then spent every moment doing nothing but that. You exhale while your feet continue to move instinctively, a slight sense of peace washing over you at the comfort of a routine.

“We should focus, class is starting soon.” Jisung whines and argues, but you just ignore him. Similarly to how you ignore Hyunjins gaze on you for the rest of the class.

Ignoring Hyunjin is much easier than you anticipated. In class you can distract yourself with Jisung before the teacher comes in, and lunch is fine enough. While he is there, sitting at a table that’s painfully close to yours, he doesn’t try to talk. Or worse, come and snatch up the free seat across from Felix. But no, he does nothing of the sort. Just laughs with his friends and shoots the occasional glance your way (the one composed of sparkly eyes and lips that are a breath away from pouting.)

But then there’s now, standing in the doorway of your stage chemistry class and Hyunjin is all that you can see. Hyunjin, standing in the center of the room and pressing play on the terribly outdated stereo. Hyunjin, running a hand through his raven black hair and inhaling deeply with closed eyes. All you wanted was to get your jacket, but now you have enough Hyunjin for a lifetime.

Loud, bass heavy music swells in the room as he starts to move. At first the movements are jerky, awkward almost. But then the music decrescendos every so softly and he exhales, then proceeds to move as if the dance is being pulled out of him. As if this choreo is the way that he was programmed to move. When the song peaks you swear that you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, because this is so Hyunjin. The way he’s dancing with every bone in his body, the way his hair is now dripping in sweat and flying all around him, the way his plump lips suck in air. It’s Hyunjin down to the core, and you’ve missed him so much.

When the music dies you clap slowly, causing the boy to shoot up like a frightened cat. He whips around to where you stand, softening like butter when he sees your frame leaned up against the wooden door frame.

“You scared me!” He shrieks, bringing up a hand to clutch his chest. It reminds you of your last Halloween with him, when the two of you got to trick or treat alone. Hyunjin decided that it would be a great idea to go to a fear farm, in which he screeched and clung to you the entire time. It wasn’t even that scary, he’s just a baby.

“Sorry.” You answer, mouth going as dry as the desert, “You, um... You’re really good.” He laughs flatly while moving over to his dance bag to pull out a towel. You watch as he dabs the sweat away, something stupid and needy churning in your stomach. You write it off as hunger.

“Thanks, I still suck at ballet though.” It’s a joke, you know it’s a joke, but something about laughing feels wrong.

“You don’t.” You take a step into the room, wandering over to where your windbreaker is piled on the floor next to the boy, “I’ve seen you in class, and you’re not bad. Just out of practice.” He lets out another flat laugh while dropping the towel, quickly exchanging it with a water bottle.

“Yea, about nine years out of practice. I barely even remember how to do a pirouette.” He’s trying so hard to make you laugh, just like the old days. The growing tension in your shoulders and lump in your throat is preventing that from happening.

“I can teach you.” You offer while shrugging the jacket on. Within seconds he’s babbling out excuses, which you wave off, “Don’t even worry about it, I need to practice anyways.” You bend down to untie your sneakers before moving to the center of the room, Hyunjin following in quick succession, “So you obviously know the proper foot technique, pointed toes only and all of that. And the retire position is just your foot in the notch above your knee.” You demonstrate it in the mirror, and even though he’s far from being a ballerina he’s done enough classes to know that you want him to copy it, “Yea, good. It looks good.”

“Where are my shoulders supposed to be?” He asks shyly, not used to questioning such simple things.

“Back, always back. Now check that your hips aren’t tilted, I-I’ve always been told to imagine that they’re a fruit bowl.” You steal a quick glance at the boy while he’s adjusting, heart fluttering the same way that it did so many years ago, “Okay, now um... Now put your feet into fourth position, just like that yea, then bend your knees and push off from your back leg.” You do the turn, a motion so natural that it might as well be brushing your teeth, “Like that, easy peasy!” The boy scoffs while bringing up his arms the same way that you had yours just seconds ago.

“Yea, easy peasy for you!” A soft giggle falls from your lips, bouncing off the walls of the empty studio (as well as Hyunjins ears.)

“C’mon!” You tease while moving around to face him, a soft smile playing at your lips, “You see me mess up in class all of the time, just go for it. The worst that could happen is being wrong.” He nods, then exhales shakily. When he does the turn it’s a bit wobbly, but definitely not anything worse than what you’ve seen before.

“Oh my god, (Y/n) that was terrible like genuinely awful-” The words feel harsh, but he’s wearing a bright smile and laughing like there’s not a care in the world. You can’t help but laugh too.

“No, no! It was fine!” You assure through a laugh as he gets back into position. From the corner of your eye you see him mouth ‘liar,’ which earns him a harsh flick between the eyes, “Just bring your hips a little more forward like...” It’s instinctual for your hand to fall onto his hipbone, something you’ve done to Felix hundreds of times. The main difference is that when you adjust Felix he usually tells you to fuck off, then softly knees your stomach. When you do it to Hyunjin he audibly chokes and you feel fire ignite beneath your fingertips, “Like this. Now go into fourth and try again, but keep your hips aligned!” The boy nods before sinking into position and pushing up into a flawless turn.

“I did it!” He exclaims, hands flying up like he’s about to hug you, “You were right, you were right I did it!” Something about his wide, excited eyes makes every wall built around your heart crumble into dust. So you accept the hug, once again allowing yourself to fall victim to the sweetness that is Hwang Hyunjin.

“I was what, I was... Did you say right?!” He rolls his eyes at your teasing, trying desperately to pretend like he didn’t miss it. It’s useless, because the way that Hyunjin’s holding you let’s you know that he’s missed you just as much as you have him, “Alright big guy, let me go. I’ve got studying to do and shoes to break in.” He whines lowly, arms trying to grab you as you snake away.

“Can we get dinner together or something?” He begs, hand briefly tangling itself in yours. You fight down the blush rising to your cheeks while pulling your hand away and stuffing it into your pocket.

“Not tonight, you have to keep practicing those pirouettes! But don’t worry, you’ll be seeing more of me... Partner.” Hyunjin smiles widely at your words, realization settling in as quickly as they leave your mouth.

“Do you mean...?”

“Yes,” You exhale, mentally preparing for another bone crushing hug, “I’ll be your partner for class.”

Hyunjins hug is almost nice enough that you forget about how annoying Jisung’s going to be when you tell him.

It turns out that the friends Hyunjin made are almost as amazing as the ones that you did. Everyone was a little awkward when the two groups first merged, specifically Jisung who was still butt hurt about you switching partners. But then Felix got to talking with Chan (the person who’s been mothering your friend ever since he started at the contemporary institute. From the way they talk, Hyunjin would’ve both starved and failed if it weren’t for the older boy,) and suddenly everyone was meeting in your room on Fridays for a weekly game of uno.

“Absolutely not, you’re fucking cheating!” Minho (the other new face from your stage chemistry class,) shouts while pointing a finger across the card pile and into Jisungs face. The boy moves to jokingly bite at it, causing Chan’s eyes to go as wide as the moon.

“No, no, no! No murder, and no biting what the hell!” You snort at your new friends bewildered expression while passing a canned sparkling water to Hyunjin. He accepts with a smile before mouthing ‘they’re insane!’ Felix sees and proceeds to nail him in the face with your favorite throw pillow.

“Says the guy who sleeps in socks-” Hyunjin throws the pillow back harshly, causing Chan to damn near pass out. It’s all that you can do to not roll over with laughter.

“My feet get cold.” He grumbles with a pout that makes both you and Minho coo from your spots beside the boy.

“Okay, okay, Minho just pick up the cards and let’s keep going? I’m about to finish!” The boy grumbles angrily, all ‘stupid card game’ and ‘I don’t wanna pick up twenty cards!’ You lock eyes with Chan from across the card pile, taking brief solace in the presence of someone else with a functioning brain.

“So we all know that (Y/n’)s about to win, and that she’s my best friend and favorite duet partner,” Everyone answers him with an immediate ‘rude,’ which makes a girlish giggle bubble up in your throat, “which is why it makes me so terribly sad to do this.” You watch closely as he dramatically pulls a card from his hand then places it on top of the deck, a fat draw four staring you straight in the eyes. Everyone goes silent while watching your face fall drastically.

“Hwang Hyunjin, I am going to-” The room bursts into chaos before you even finish the sentence. In the end there are about twelve fresh bruises, six entirely hoarse sets of vocal chords, and one demolished dorm room. Just a normal Friday night.

Except for the way that your heart stutters when Hyunjin mouths a simple ‘love you’ over the bustling group. That’s not normal, but you think that you like it.

“Hyunjin, if you keep your hands there I’m going to fall.” You say to your duet partner, whose hands are wandering aimlessly up your torso. They’re supposed to be on your hips, serving as an anchor for your body while it dips towards the ground.

“Sorry, sorry.” The boy mumbles, not entirely meaning it. It’s impossible to be sorry when he can physically feel your heart speed up beneath his hands.

“Try to sound just a little bit less convincing next time, okay?” You shimmy slightly in a futile attempt to move his hands, which only makes him laugh brightly. If it weren’t for your less than ideal position (halfway bent into a split with every ounce of your weight balanced on the tips of your toes,) you would hit him.

“Do you want me to drop you, because I can drop you if it’s what you want-” The teacher snaps her fingers, pulling everyone’s attention out of the various warm up routines and to the front of the room. Hyunjins hands pull away from your torso so quickly that it burns.

“No dropping dance partners on purpose, that’s the first rule of building stage chemistry.” She chastises, eyes brushing briefly over your friend which causes him to turn thirty shades of pink. You giggle quietly to yourself before sticking your tongue out at him, “But of course, you can’t truly start to build a connection until there’s material. So that’s what we’re doing today, I’ve assigned each group with a pas de deux, or ‘dance for two’. Whoever I think shows the most promise within the next week will be given the opportunity to enter in the regional competition.” She says opportunity, but the stern tone of her voice means that whoever she picks will definitely have to do the competition.

Everyone floods to the front of the class before she even finishes, Hyunjin moving to do so as well before you quickly grip his wrist.

“She didn’t say to go yet, and if we want to qualify for that competition we’re going to have to start kissing up now.” You keep your face forward, chin up and shoulders back, but even then you can feel Hyunjins smile, “What?!”

“You want to do the competition?” He sounds hopeful, nearly childlike.

“Of course! That’s like half the reason I go to school here, the competitive atmosphere.” People are starting to settle back into place, your teacher wearing a look of utter annoyance. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice, seeing as his mouth keeps moving.

“I’ve only known how to do a pirouette for a month, and I still can’t really get my double. You’d have a better chance with Han, or-” As soon as the teachers back is turned you whip around to your babbling partner, hands planted firmly on his broad shoulders. It takes a second for his eyes to meet yours, but when they do he nearly melts.

“I don’t want to do it with anyone else, I want to do it with you. And just because your double isn’t perfect doesn’t mean that it’s not good so stop stressing.” He looks down for a second, cheeks growing as pink as your shoes. By force of habit you hook a hand beneath the boys chin and force him to look at you, “I mean it.” He swallows harshly, then nods. With a sigh you let go of the boy and return to your previous (assigned) position. Just in time too, seeing as the teacher turns around right as you settle next to the boy.

“You may check your assignments at the end of class, if you haven’t done so already.” You flash a knowing glance to Hyunjin, almost as if to say ‘I told you so.’ He knows better than to argue.

At the end of class you go up to look with Jisung while Hyunjin gathers your things for you, the short brunette babbling excitedly about the previously mentioned regional’s.

“I thought that you don’t do partner work?” You tease lightly while ducking down to look at the list.

“I don’t, but neither does my partner! So we’ll just be okay at...” He bends next to, head full of brown hair hitting you straight in the eyes, “Romeo and Juliet?” You bite down a laugh while pushing the boy away.

“Don’t try to fight it, you’re such a Romeo. Just like I am such a... Lise!” The boys face contorts with jealousy as he ducks back down, once again knocking your heads together.

“You guys got La Fille mal gardee? And the ribbon dance?!” You giggle back a small yes while pinching the boys frowning cheeks, “No fair! Absolutely no fair, I have to do stupid Romeo and Juliet and you got my favorite ballet, no fair!”

“It’s my favorite too!” You defend, which ends up being pointless because both Hyunjin and Jisung chorus back with ‘not true!’

“Your favorite is swan lake.” Hyunjin states while sliding your dance bag onto your shoulder. Maybe it’s the fondness in his action, or the way that he named off your favorite ballet as though it was a fact ingrained into his brain, but your heart swells so large that you swear it could pop like a balloon.

“Okay,” you exhale, hand moving to the spot where his fingers were ghosting just seconds ago, “one of my favorites.”

At your first rehearsal for regionals you and Hyunjin are given the ribbon to use, seeing as it’s literally the ribbon dance. Practicing without it was honestly getting awkward, which is unfortunate seeing as the boy nearly got it taken away within minutes.

“Look (Y/n,) I’m a present!” He had exclaimed, causing you to whip around to the sight of your partner with a pink silk bow tied around his chin.

“Oh no, Hyunjin!” You whispered through a quiet laugh, moving towards him to untie it, “You are so ridiculous!”

“What? Am I not a gift?” He pouted while trying to pull your hands away, which earned him nothing but a harsh smack on the wrist. You slipped it off his face and behind your back just as the teacher walked in the door to give the ‘your ribbon is not a toy,’ talk.

At the second you describe the plot of La Fille mal Gardee, which proves to be slightly (read: very confusing.)

“Wait wait wait, she doesn’t even like the other guy?!” He asks while shaking his head cutely, black hair bouncing along with the motion. If it gets any longer he’s going to have to start putting it up.

“Nope, not one bit.” His eyebrows furrow as he starts to grumble ‘this is kind of stupid,’ earning a giggle and a push to the shoulder, “No it isn’t! It’s funny, and sweet! I really relate to Lise and her... Character arch I guess.”

“Isn’t she the girl who needed guarding or something like that?” His tilts to the side, teeth catching ever so slightly on his puffy pink lips.

“Yea,” You exhale with a quickening heart rate, “something like that.” There’s silence for a minute, nothing but Hyunjin shaking his head and sighing softly.

“That’s not you. No one needs to guard you.” For some reason your brain flashes back to the third summer alone (that awkward stage where you were too old to make new friends and too young to go see Jisung,) when you spent everyday walking through the woods alone. Sometimes you would just walk until the sun went down and your only company was the stars, but most days you would find a new place to sit down and hum out the motifs of your favorite ballets, “No one.”

For a moment you think that he’s right.

The fourth rehearsal (exactly one week after the first) is when you get to a stage kiss in the choreography, your teacher describing the motions along with a recording that’s projecting on the back wall. It starts with the boy pulling in the girl by the ribbon, then swooping down to meet her lips with a smile. Then she twirls away, leaving your skin hot and crawling.

“We’re um... A-are we gonna do that?” Hyunjin asks through a whisper, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath. It’s warm and smells like spearmint.

“We’ll know when we get there I guess, now pay attention!” You push his face away from yours and back to the projection, watching as the couple wraps each other up in the silky ribbon.

When you do finally get there an hour later he looks so nervous that he could puke. Your teacher shouts out the next move, ‘kiss and then twirl away,’ which only adds to the painful drumming of your heart.

“It’s okay, (Y/n,) you don’t have to.” His voice is low, hushed. Almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

“No, no! It’s okay, I’ll just...” You lean forward as much as you can with the ribbon hugging your waist and press a feather light kiss onto the tip of his nose. The teacher coos, maybe even praises the two of you on the developing stage chemistry. You don’t hear it. You don’t hear anything over the erratic beating of your heart, “I’ll just do that, okay?” He swallows dryly, eyes flashing quickly down to your lips then back up to your sweet gaze.

“Y-yea, perfect.” There’s something building up in the space between your bodies, so thick that you could spread it over toast, “You should twirl away, right?” You nod, wanting desperately to stay. To kiss him in an earth shattering way.

A part of you thinks that you shouldn’t. That Hyunjin has the power to ruin every part of you, and that wanting to give that to him after your hearts already been broken is foolish. But you do, you want to. Because loving Hyunjin feels good enough that the pain doesn’t matter.

After the fifth rehearsal the two of you feel as though you’ve torn every muscle in your body. Your teacher decided within the first twelve minutes that the two of you would benefit from some conditioning, which resulted in you and Hyunjin holding side by side planks (as well as other terrible positions) and muttering curses for a solid hour.

“I’m gonna collapse.” Hyunjin whines, plopping down onto the hardwood floor beside his dance bag. Something that’s probably supposed to be a laugh falls out of your mouth before you pull the water bottle from your bag.

“At least you haven’t been wearing pointe shoes all day.” You groan while moving the bottle to your mouth. A mouthful of water slides down your throat right as the boys face twists into one of horror.

“Oh gosh, oh no I’m so sorry!” You try to wave the black haired boy away, which only makes him feel worse, “No, no! I wanna help let me umm... Come back to my room? I can set up a foot bath with...”

“Epsom salts.” You answer after swallowing another swig of water, “But I have all of the stuff in my room, I can take care of it.” Hyunjin whines again while rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself into a sitting position. There’s a bead of sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose, something that you shouldn’t focus on. It catches on the tip before falling delicately onto his collar bone.

“I wanna take care of it,” It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, “just... Here, wear my jacket into the building so no one can see that you’re uh... A girl.” You try to argue again, but then your cheeks are squished in between his hand and his eyebrows are furrowed just enough for it to be cute, “Let me take care of you.”

And really, how could you say no to that?

“Hwang Hyunjin, you are my favorite person in the world.” You sigh, feet dipping into the warm cloudy water. He plops down next to you with a laugh and arms full of snacks.

“Can I get that in writing? You know, just to prove it to Jisung.” Laughter bounces off of his dorm walls, filling the boys brain with childhood memories. Like the time that you two were riding scooters in your driveway and just as the sun started to set you skinned your knee. Hyunjin had thought for a minute that the shaking of your shoulders was sobbing, but quickly discovered by a tilt of your chin and hands wrapped around your sides that you were indeed laughing. Beautiful, clear laughter complete with sunshine dripping from your skin. It was the first time he can remember thinking that someone was beautiful.

“Yes!” You exclaim, effectively pulling the boy from his memory, “But only if you give me food.” He giggles tiredly, a sound so sweet that it might as well be honey, and tosses a bag of pita chips your way.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

You’re supposed to go back to your dorm at eleven, thirty minutes after arrival. But then Hyunjin starts talking about anything and everything, ranging from how he met Minho to the old building of his school. The way he chuckles sleepily while reminiscing on water logged ceilings is enough to make you melt.

Somehow your head ends up pulled against his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. There’s an arm tied around your waist like ribbon, lips softly brushing your hairline as he mumbles endlessly about everything, your leg across his lap as though they’re supposed to be.

“What time’s it?” You slur, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt. It smells like spice and fresh pine and Hyunjin. So much like Hyunjin.

“Midnight.” You think to yourself that it’s time to leave, that if any of the staff found out about this you’d be dead. You also think that Hyunjin smells like fresh pine and that he’s holding you in a way that you’ve never been held.

The sound of his even breathing and the weight of his arms on you lulls you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

When you wake up it’s to the obnoxious blaring of Hyunjins alarm. The boy whines lowly before punching it into snooze. It’s enough to make you laugh, then pull your head away from the cradle of his chin.

“C’mon sleepy, it’s time to get up. What do you have for breakfast?” If it weren’t for your hair tickling his cheek or the way your torso writhes beneath his arm he would be annoyed by your chirping voice. After the hundreds of early mornings school has thrown your way you can’t really help but be a morning person.

“More sleep, that’s what I have.” He grumbles as you crack the curtains open, trying desperately to pull the comforter over his eyes.

“You need food to fuel your body Hyunjin-” Before you can finish lecturing him an arm shoots up from beneath the gray blanket, crashing your body onto his with a sleepy groan.

“M’ just kidding.” He pulls you under the blanket with him, mimicking the first time he spent the night at your house. You two stayed up until the sun was rising, hidden away from the world by the fluffy pink comforter of your childhood bedroom, “Protein bars are in the closet and apples’r on top of the mini fridge.

It’d be so easy to skip classes and stay here all day, not a care in the world besides the sweet boy that you’re currently tangled in. A part of you wants to melt away and give in, but a bigger part knows that doing that is a commitment. Like saying that you’re his to hold and break however he pleases. It’s the scariest thought that you’ve had in months.

“W-we should get going. Yea?” The words sound like you’ve been choking on them. A fact that Hyunjin takes notice of, eyes growing sad and attentive as his arms wiggle away from your waist.

“Yea, yea. Minho will be here in ten minutes, we walk to pas de deux together.” Before you can help it your expression turns panicked, eyebrows shooting up as your jaw drops open, “Sorry! He’s not gonna tell anyone or anything I promise!” Something clenches in your chest at the sight of him sitting up in bed, black hair sticking up every way that it can.

“I know he won’t, it’s just...” You look down at your body, clothed with Hyunjins sweatshirt and a pair of his long socks (turns out that he was onto something with the whole ‘sleeping in socks’ thing,) “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” His gaze shoots up to meet yours, so soft and relaxed that you could cry.

“Which would be?” There’s a pounding in your ears that’s quickly recognizable as a heartbeat.

“That we’re together.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Hyunjin hears you loud and clear. From the light tremble to the breathy finish, he hears you.

“We could be, if that’s what you want.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, an action familiar enough that it’s normal yet tender enough that your cheeks are flushing pink, “Is that what you want?”

“I-I, um...” Your heart is screaming yes, that you want to be his and only his. That while you aren’t a girl who needs to be guarded, you are a girl who wants to be guarded. Guarded from everything by Hyunjins thin comforter and strong arms.

But then you think about the promise that Hyunjin broke. The promise that he wouldn’t forget you, and then broke less than twenty-four hours later. You think about how badly you’ve wanted to spend the last day of summer with him every year since. Your mouth opens right as a knock sounds against his door, “Can we talk about this later?” Hyunjin nods lightly while getting up to grab two apples off of the top of the mini fridge.

“I’m so sorry for however he reacts.” The boy groans under his breath, offering you a light green apple along with an apologetic smile. You accept, smiling back before popping out of bed to pull your dance bag over your shoulder.

“It can’t be that bad, Minho’s level headed.” If it weren’t for the fact that Hyunjin still has a question lodged in his throat he would’ve laughed.

You’re the one who finally opens the door, interrupting Minho mid-knock. At first he looks aggravated, ready to launch into a long speech about how ‘timeliness is important’ and ‘you always fucking make us late’ but when his eyes meet you his jaw goes slack.

“What the f-”

If the sound of Minho screeching wasn’t telling enough, you were very very wrong.

The next four days are spent dancing around Hyunjins burning question, constantly talking about anything else or switching the topic when it seems like he might bring it up. At first he barely notices, simply assuming that you need time to mull it over, but then Jisung and Chan sit in on a lunchtime rehearsal.

The dance is coming along perfectly, so much so that the boys don’t even notice your hesitations. Hyunjin sees it though. Sees the way that your hands tremble before planting on his shoulders, the way that your face looks sad after pressing the soft kiss onto his nose. While he hasn’t seen you dance as much as Jisung or Felix probably have, he’s still seen enough to know that you’re never like this. Never uncertain.

“What was that about?” The boy asks after the rehearsal, hands crossed against his chest. You’re going to ignore him, focus on nothing other than getting out of your pointe shoes and off to your next class, but then his dark brown eyes catch on yours, “Seriously!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond, fingers working quickly to undo the ribbons around your ankles. A sigh leaves your mouth as one shoe slips off and into your bag, quickly moving to the other one before Hyunjin can continue the questioning.

Turns out that your friend is terrible at picking up on social cues.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Your head is briefly pulled up from the floor as his voice grows impossibly soft, your heartbeat faltering ever so slightly. There’s a quiet goodbye as Jisung and Chan leave the studio, “Y-you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, throwing the second shoe into your bag while a lump takes form in your throat. If he wasn’t your best friend then he would think that you’re just tired, or hungry, or anything other than deflecting. But he is your best friend, who knows that being tired or hungry only makes you sad. Your best friend who knows that you’re deflecting harder than you ever have before.

“It’s okay, just tell me. Please.” His last word is so hushed that you can barely hear it, but it’s there. Light, and airy, and perfectly there, “Is this about what I asked?” Before you can help you’re nodding, once again giving this boy every part of you that can break.

“Yea, kind of.” It feels like your mouth is full of cotton, leaving you uncomfortably hot along with speechless. A loud sigh rings through the studio as Hyunjin slides down to meet your height, hands burying into his raven black hair. The sight takes you back to the last day of fifth grade; you and him holding each other on your front porch as if the world was ending, your hands tangled into his hair.

“Is it because you don’t want to?” There’s his eyes on yours, your chest heaving, and nothing else in the entire universe. Just (Y/n,) the girl who wants to be guarded, and Hyunjin, (Y/n’)s beloved.

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Right now feels like when you’re at a competition, in the middle of a variation that’s been giving you hell since you started working on it. It’s seconds before the hardest part, the one that you’re still not sure of. It’s the adrenaline rushing through your veins and the words ‘now or never’ echoing with each timed exhale.

“Because. How do I know that you won’t forget about me when summer comes?” Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, causing his lips to part and then heave for air.

“I-I never forgot about you.”

“Yes you did!” There are tears prickling the back of your eyelids, which you quickly blink away before continuing, “I waited for you outside your house every day! And then, when you wouldn’t show up, I-I’d spend every day alone. Doing what we used to do together, but by myself! I was all by myself and I missed you so much, Jinnie. So, so much.” He’s going to tell you that you’re wrong. That while all of those things happened, he never ever forgot about you.

But then there’s that old nickname, the one reserved specifically for family and you. He hasn’t heard it in months, and when he finally does it’s rolling out of your mouth like a plea soaked in honey. Something that’s going to stick with him for forever.

“(Y/n,) please-” You’re up and out of the door before he can even finish.

It’s a dreary Friday morning, rain trickling down your window and painting your room a gray shade of blue. With a deep inhale you realize that everything is finally smelling like fall, which only solidifies the fact that you never want to get out of bed. Unfortunately you have a class in half an hour that you do kind of need to go to.

But it’s not too terrible. Maybe if you were getting up to go take a math class, or run a marathon, but you aren’t. You’re getting up to go to ballet class, and you can wear your favorite leotard again (the light blue one, with pearls sewn around the collar,) and the rain outside is heavy enough to be calming but light enough that you can fend it off with an umbrella. The only thing that could make this morning any better is your favorite childhood breakfast, honey nut cheerios with strawberry milk.

Which is, oddly enough, sitting outside of your door when you open it to head off to the dining hall. A gallon sized jug of bright pink milk next to a family size box of your favorite cereal, just sitting in the middle of the hallway with a folded piece of paper resting precariously on top. Something about this has Hyunjin written all over it. You lean down to pick up the note, reading it about a thousand times over before rushing back into your room to wolf down the breakfast that you haven’t had in months.

‘(Y/n,)

I never forgot you.

Come to my room tonight after rehearsal. Please.

Sincerely, Hyunjin.’

When you two do the first full run through of the pas de deux that night he holds you extra tight. Maybe because he misses you. Maybe because he thinks that after tonight he’ll never have the chance to do so again.

But when he opens the door to his dorm room you see pink fluffy blankets folded on his bed. On top of them is a basket, filled to the brim with every last one of your favorite things. Strawberries dipped in chocolate like the ones your mother would make on hot summer nights, snickers bars like the ones that you two would share after days spent in your driveway, glass bottled lemonade like you would buy from the stand up the street.

“I may or may not have also bought your favorite movie. Well, if it’s still Barbie And the Twelve Dancing Princesses.” A giggle sounds through the room, bouncing around the walls and then back onto Hyunjins burning cheeks.

“It is, but don’t tell Jisung!” Rain starts to fall again, the soft pitter patter mixing perfectly with the boys soft laugh. His hand grazes briefly against the small of your back as he starts to guide you into the tight room, “I’m serious! Him and Lix will make fun of me!” The pout on your face is enough to melt anyone’s heart, which is why Hyunjin doesn’t even think twice when his knees go weak as jelly.

“My lips are sealed.” He says, walking over the boxy tv (that certainly wasn’t there last week) on his desk and inserting the disc, “Now sit back and enjoy.”

It’s not a hard request to fill, your tired body sinking immediately into the fluffy blankets and mouth watering each time you bite down on a strawberry. Rain continues to patter softly against the window, the sound occasionally being replaced by a loud roll of thunder which makes the boy next to you jump. You had laughed at the action, asking softly if he was scared. It was a rhetorical question, you know fully well that he’s always been scared of thunder.

“No! Yes, shut up.” And if you mind that the boy cuddles softly into your side, one arm wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other holds a chocolate strawberry, you don’t say so.

The two of you stay tangled up in each other like that until the credits roll, Hyunjins breathy sigh hitting your cheek as he shifts to get up. You watch with heartfelt eyes as he crosses the dimly lit room, his black hair briefly sweeping across his eyes. You want to reach up and push it away, but right as you manage to sit up straight he’s done with it and headed back to the bed. With a short laugh you realize that your noses are touching.

“Hi.” The word comes at as a short exhale, leaving a taste on your tongue that’s sweeter than chocolate strawberries.

“Hey.” Your heart flutters at the sound, an exhale laced together with a smile, as his arms return to their previous spot around your waist. There’s probably nothing in the world brighter than the smile he wears for you. Stage lights, the sun, every last star in the sky rolled into one. None of it even comes close to the way that his pink lips stretch perfectly from cheek to cheek, “Do you finally believe me?” He brings up a hand to caress your cheek gently, as though to rub away tears that haven’t fallen.

“Believe wh-”

“Do you believe that I never forgot you? That I never forgot any of you, not even the little things like your favorite color or what you liked to eat for dinner. Maybe I pulled away, but I think it’s because even then I knew how badly losing you would hurt. I-I knew that I never wanted to lose you, which is just what I did...” He swallows harshly, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, “But I’ll never do it again. I’ll never lose you, and I’ll never forget you a-and... And I don’t want to remember you anymore, (Y/n.) I’m so done with remembering, let’s just be.” There’s something stuck in your throat, but it doesn’t hurt the way that tears do. No, this is a release gathering inside of you. One that’s waiting for you to finally give in.

“Hyunjin,” His fingers cradle the curve of your jaw, sending goosebumps down every inch of your body, “kiss me.” And that’s all the confirmation he needs to brush his lips over yours.

At first it’s gentle, almost questioning. Like he’s asking one last time ‘Is this okay?’ But then your hands tangle in his black hair, the way that they’ve been aching to since you first saw him, and he knows that you’re okay. More than okay, you’re in love. With every muscle in your body, you’re in love.

Hyunjin’s hand that was previously holding your face drops back down to your waist and pulls you in softly. They then travel down to your thighs, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips before he picks you up and guides you onto the bed. Every movement is so perfect yet raw, feeling like the stuff of ballets. Until your back hits an unopened glass bottle of lemonade, that is. The sudden cold is enough to make you jump.

“What?!” Hyunjin questions, eyes shooting as wide as saucers, “Did I hurt you?!” A laugh sounds through the room while your hand detaches from his hair, opting instead to reach around your body and remove the glass bottle that’s poking you in the least conventional way possible.

“No.” You answer through soft giggles, bringing up the bottle to lightly tap his forehead, “There’s just a lemonade poking me in the ass.”

He flushes bright pink before answering with a tiny ‘oh’ and burying his face into the crook of your neck. If you were less malleable you would’ve teased him even more, but then there are warm kisses on your skin and nothing in your head.

“I love you.” He whispers, head slowly moving until his lips are against your jaw. You’re going to answer, really, but then there are soft lips on your chin and a smile ripping through your body, “I love you.”

“M-me too.” You stammer dumbly, body going entirely limp as he (finally) presses another kiss onto your lips. The boy pulls away entirely too soon, but it’s okay. There’s something that you need to finish saying, anyways, “I love you too, Jinnie.”

When you fall asleep that night it’s to the sound of pattering rain, with Hyunjins arms guarding you from the world.

The bus back from regionals is quiet, the few sounds that do come about being Chan and Felix whispering softly or Minho giggling at Jisung snoring. You’re about there too, but who can blame you when Hyunjins hands are buried in your hair (which is both stiff and wavy from a combination of hairspray and braided buns.) If you close your eyes and focus really hard you can even feel the rise and fall of his chest where it’s connected with your back.

“Who’s gonna keep our trophy?” The boy questions, lips moving softly against the shell of your ear. It generates a warm feeling in your gut, one that spreads quickly to your cheeks and ears.

“We’ll trade it off on the weekends. Like divorced soccer parents.” He giggles softly, moving forward to kiss your temple.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” If you were a little bit less tired, or a little bit less in love, then maybe you’d joke back. But you’re wrapped up in him like a ribbon on your waist, foot nudging against a plastic first place trophy while his lips move against you in a way that you could get drunk off of.

“Never.” You answer, hand coming up to wrap around his as if it were a vow, “Never.”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #writekpop #admin reid #han jisung #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #this might be one of my favorites yet... i really loved writing all of them #and researching!!

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killuaisaprincess · 3 years

Text

ocean blues

summary:

"You're really pretty, Killua."

Killua’s breath is snatched right away from his lungs again as if he's being pushed underwater once more. His sunburned cheeks, pale red in hue, changing like the sunset to bright red, his brilliant blue eyes darting down.

"I-"

He isn't. Not at all. He isn't attractive like Gon. Gon with his bright smile, his little dimples, his dumb hair, that looks way too stupidly good down and wet like this. Pretty. That wasn't a word to describe Killua at all... his vampire pale skin, skin marred with scars, his dumb, stupid hair that always poofs up even when he combs it..

Gon's fingers press into the skin near his cheek, lightly, so careful to not touch where he was burnt by the sun. Sunscreen only helped so much with a complexion as fair as his.

"Killua. I meant what I said earlier. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

♥*♡∞:｡.｡　　｡.｡:∞♡*♥

Geez... for someone so insistent on coming to the beach Gon Freecss was sure taking his sweet ass time.

Killua had ended up situated at the beach house located near the far back of the beach, resting on the wooden porch. It was open to the public, so he had no worries of getting yelled at. Speaking of, boy, was he ever going to yell Gon's ear off when he got here...

The soles of his feet just scrap against the sand, one leg swung over the other, his elbow resting on his knee, his chin against his open palm. He lets out a huge sigh, inhaling the ocean breeze, salty, a little wet, and calming in a way.

His free hand taps at the wood impatiently, blue eyes narrowing. Gon must be packing an entire fucking suitcase of stuff with how long he's taking. All Killua has is was what he has on. A sunhat made of straw, with a beautiful deep royal blue bow in the back, a white tank top and white trunks, and... a white jacket with a neon-bright light blue zipper over the tank top.

All to protect him from the beating sun... and stares...

He wasn't like Gon with his gorgeous skin-kissed skin; he was all sickly and pale looking...

"Killlluuuuuaaaaa!"

Speak of the devil, and he shall arrive. Killua stands up, a hand falling to his hip, glaring holes at the figure approaching. The very easy-to-spot figure with the ridiculous green trunks and turtle floatie hanging around his left arm.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to take so long!"

Gon presses his palms together, closing one eye and attempting to look sorry, too bad he doesn't in the least! Not to Killua...

"Stupiddddd! Next time I'll just ditch you and go someplace else!"

Gon lets out an awkward, nervous laugh stepping up onto the dock, making Killua back up slightly.

"Did you put on sunscreen?"

A strong hand goes to grab his thin pale wrist, his sleeves not reaching quite that far, pink brushing across his cheeks.

Gon peers up at him before staring at his wrist once more, as if he could magically tell if Killua put on sunscreen or not by staring long enough...

Not like he's the same damm color as the thing...

"I don't want you to get hurt. You're so pale."

Geez. Thanks for the obvious observation, Sherlock Holmes. Might as well call him Watson... but his heart picks up in pace for some reason when Gon looks at him with those caramel eyes all full of concern.

"S-shut up! Do you think I'm stupid?"

Killua snatches his hand back, his ears burning as Gon stares dumbly before jumping off the porch, grinning.

"Nope! I guess not!"

Killua stares at him, incredulously going to step down himself before a hand is offered to him.

H-Huh? Did Gon think that was deep? It was like a tiny step down. He just got down on his own perfectly well! What's with this?

He's stuck staring at a row of brilliant pearly whites, all straight minus one canine on the left upper side that sticks further out. It's endearing, like everything about Gon, and how can Killua say no to that smile... it sort of... feels warm. This feeling.

He grasps Gon's offered hand with a puff of air and shy mumbled word of gratitude, stepping down, the warmth of the sand almost scalding hot. He sort of regrets not wearing flip-flops now... how was Gon perfectly okay?

Gon grins, slowly letting go and dashing ahead.

Killua follows. Albeit, very, very slowly.

—

They get closer to the shore of the beach, and turns out the reason Gon was taking so long was that he had been setting up a small nice little resting area. Complete with two umbrellas and two towels. Killua takes his hat off and places it under his towel.

Gon carefully places a book of some sort on top of it, so it doesn't get blown away, saying how it looked really pretty on Killua. Something Killua chooses to ignore. His cheeks flush every color of pink and red in the dictionary, but he just scoffs, looking away with a retort on how Gon's embarrassing. Which he is!

Still, it didn't mean anything. What Gon says that is. He likely says the same thing to his aunt and everyone, really. Killua's isn't special... if only his heart would realize that too and stop pounding so hard.

—

"Killua? Aren't you going to take that off? It'll get wet."

Gon points to his jacket, and Killua's heart stops beating, and he forgets how to breathe.

He can't say no to Gon...

Thin fingers grasp the edges of his jacket with an iron grip, shakily moving down to tug the zipper down, slipping one side off, then the next, letting it drop into the sand.

Shame burns in his chest, across his creased brow, the tilt of his neck down. His neck tinted red, alongside his cheeks and near his sternum. All in shame.

He doesn't want to wait for the comments. A dry chuckle choked past lips.

"Creepy, right?" Black and blue marring his arms, silver-like scars long healed. It was just how it is. He wouldn't learn any other way...

Killua leans down to pick up his jacket, his throat constricting, a lump crawling up and clawing at his throat, fire burning in his eyes, tears building up.

"No!"

...Huh?

Killua refuses to look up, slowly grasping at the cloth.

"I don't think that! At all! I think you're the most pretty thing I've ever seen!"

Killua slowly slips the jacket back on, refusing to look up, chewing on his bottom lip.

You're just saying that.

It's sweet, Gon. Thanks.

"Ah! Well! I mean! It just proves how beautiful and strong you are! On the inside and out!"

A small laugh spills from his lips, his heart skipping a beat.

What a dumbass.

"But not anymore! You don't have to be strong! I mean! 'Cause I'm here!"

Stupid. ...What does that even mean?

Killua looks up, Gon's arms stretched out, a sheepish grin across those childish but strong features. His heart may have skipped a beat again...

If not for how ridiculous Gon looks, saying it all wearing bright-green trunks with a turtle floatie over his arm, a turtle floatie that was clearly manufactured wrong with its beady black eyes and giant head.

Killua bursts out laughing.

—

Gon is already waist-deep in the water by the time Killua reaches the shore of the ocean, staring down at the murky water. The sand squishes between his toes, the waves washing over the tops of his feet. It's cold, but that's not really what bothers him. Below the surface, he catches glimpses of green wavy seaweed. He sucks in a breath, a furrow to his light brows obscured by his curly locks that shift with the movement.

"Killua! What's taking so long?"

Gon's voice draws him from his stupor, looking up to see the dumbass hadn't moved at all, waving his hand to signal Killua.

"Geez! You have no patience, idiot!"

He snaps to play it off, eyeing the seafloor once more, taking a slow step forward, his breath hitching. Blue eyes shifting up to see the progress he has made. Except he's greeted by those warm caramel eyes, golden specks and all, and almost falls back on his ass.

"G-Gon!"

Spluttering, he stumbles back. When had he gotten back over?!

Gon tilts his head, bottom lip jutted out into a pout.

"Welll, you were taking soooooo long! Ah! Plus, I remembered! You don't like slimy things, right?"

Sheesh... he thought Gon only had a pile of bricks for a brain, but the idiot seemed to be pretty perceptive...

"Gon. I'm not scared of a little-AH!"

Gravity is torn from him, and a scream he doesn't want to admit is his escapes from his lips, fingers clawing blindly.

"You're being silly, Kill~u~a! I'll just carry you across!"

He's the one being silly?! Why you...

Ah... carry him...

Reality slowly sets in; he had been clawing at Gon...

Gon... is...

Wading into the water with ease like Killua weighs no more than a feather, a strong arm hooked under his knee, his other hand resting on his back. Humming. God, kill Killua now. Take his heart and plunge it into the sea... his face is on fire, and he can't tell if it's from the sun or Gon... they are basically one and the same.

—

Gon stops his trudge through the water and sand, looking over at the floatie still over his arm and then him... Sheesh, Killua knew this idiot didn't think this through... Killua's fine, though... he can handle a little seaweed. He goes to tell Gon to put him down, but the dumbass has other ideas. He grins, looking over at Killua apologetically.

"Sorry! One sec, Killua!"

"Huh?"

Killua is moved in an instant; he isn't even sure what happened. Just the sudden swirl of the world, the momentum making his head spin. His nose is now almost touching the water. He's over Gon's shoulder.

But... but... this warmth of Gon's hand...

Is. On. His. Ass!

This idiot! Who the hell holds someone over the shoulder by their assets?! He wants to die. His face is burning, and does this idiot even know? Killua can feel him fidgeting around to drop the floatie off.

"Sorry, Killua... I promise that's not what I was aiming for!"

Forgot it! Stop! Don't acknowledge it! This is way worse! He groans, burying his burning face in his hands. Gon sounding sheepish isn't helping how lightheaded he feels either.

"I don't want to drop you now."

Just drop him!

Luckily, he's spared of further embarrassment when Gon swiftly flips him over like he weighs as much as a rag doll, his arm resting under his knees again, the other near his shoulder.

Killua slowly peels his fingers away from his face, refusing to acknowledge the faint pink across Gon's cheeks.

"Up you go!"

Gon gently adjusts his movements, placing Killua up onto the floatie to the best of his given ability.

Killua would be lucky to drown in the water at this point, sinking into the hole in the floatie, his thighs touching the cold water.

God, or should he say, Gon, always has other plans...

He gives Killua a toothy grin, kicking his legs to gain momentum. One hand is placed on each side of the floatie. Killua can only suppress a groan, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into the rubber as Gon starts to move him around on the float with great speed. It's a miracle he doesn't pop the damm thing.

—

The force eventually sends him flying. He's submerged in water with a painful splash, running from his skull to his fingertips and aching in his back. Water runs into his nose, burning, eyes stinging with the salt from the water. It pushes into his lips; the taste is almost as bad as the feel, his limbs pushing against the harsh waves, desperate to reach the surface. A hand snags around his waist before he can collect himself, adjust to the water, and tugs him out.

The air hits his lungs, the light blinding, and his nose still burning. He coughs a few times to dislodge any water from his lungs. Wiping his now wet sleeves over his eyes, slowly tugging his forearm away, staring back at huge concerned puppy dog eyes.

"Killua! Are you okay?"

Killua brings his left arm up, wiping under his nose, sniffing.

"Yeah, I just got water up my nose, don't worry, stupid."

Gon seems to visibly relax, his hand still on Killua's waist, which the younger is desperately trying to ignore.

Gon's other hand touches the water's surface and moves, pausing mid-air for a second. He brushes his fingers near Killua's reddened cheeks, moving up and pushing a wet strand of hair behind the other's ear.

"You're really pretty, Killua."

Killua's breath is snatched right away from his lungs again as if he's being pushed underwater once more. His sunburned cheeks, pale red in hue, changing like the sunset to bright red, his brilliant blue eyes darting down.

"I-"

Gon's fingers press into the skin near his cheek, lightly, so careful to not touch where he was burnt by the sun. Sunscreen only helped so much with a complexion as fair as his.

"Killua. I meant what I said earlier. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He darts his eyes up to stare just a second. Determination, endearment, everything was shinning in those eyes of Gon's... his heart starts to pound in his chest, he's afraid Gon might hear it.

Gon leans in unbearably close; he can feel his breath tickling his skin, Gon may be breathing, but he's forgotten how.

Lips brush up against his gently, the taste salty, the feeling warm, lasting only a mere second but washing away all of Killua's anxieties.

Gon beams at him, tugging his hand away slowly, letting his fingers run through Killua's sopped hair.

"Let's go back. I'll carry you again, so you don't have to walk through the seaweed!"

His face burns, and he splashes Gon with water, averting his eyes.

"S-stupid!"

In an endearingly lovable way... but he doesn't think he has to tell Gon that, the teen's grin as bright as the sun in the sky.

Really... he is... stupid.

#;windy’s stuff #killua zoldyck #hxh Killua #hxh Gon #hxh #hunter x hunter #gonkillu #gon x killua #killua #killua hxh #gon freecss #gon freccs #gon freecs #gon hxh #with this one I’m done reposting on ao3 🎉 minus uh two chap stories but one I wanna write a second chap for even if it flopped and the #other idk yet

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