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last-words-ofashootingstar · 26 days

Text

Allure

Part Two:Knuckle Velvet

❥MATZ x fem reader

Part One(Sunshine)

Part Three(Smoke)

➯a/n: i'm so glad people like this story, i've spent so much time on it and it's a labor of love, enjoy part two <33 if you're new here, part one is very much needed to understand what's going on and please read the warnings and take care of yourself ! if you didn't see my update, i lost the final draft of part three and now only have a paper draft so apologies that it will take a little bit to be uploaded ❤️‍🩹

✃ "Mind, body, soul, and wolf."

♫"Nothing hurts like the way you do; like the way you say "I love you." " -Knuckle Velvet, Ethel Cain♫Allure Soundtrack

✫彡wordcount: 6.9k

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BEOTCH chapter specific: not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forced soul bonding, forced marking, nobody is mentally well, yandere and possessive behavior, talk of murder, talk of drugs, bits of humor because i was going insane, smoking 🍃, sh in the form of putting joints out on skin(NOT READER, NOT DESCRIPTIVE), reckless driving(is that a warning?), reader needs a hug like honestly-

cunnilingus, nudity, heat cycle, outdoor, fingering, THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC, ALL SMUT IS CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaotic-floral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada @sunnyhokyu @calisnewworld @elysiangroundsforall

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART TWO ˚➶ ｡˚

Something is wrong.

The warmth of your bed calls you back to sleep as you stir.

Something is wrong.

The smell of cooking pancakes wafts through the air, your stomach churns in interest.

Something is wrong.

The hand on your side is so soft it's almost fleeting.

Something is wrong.

Your eyes snap open, blurry vision landing on an unfortunately familiar set of features. Long brown hair, full lips in a seemingly perpetual line, thick letters on his neck.

You let out a scream as your body catches up with your mind, kicking Seonghwas arm and crawling back into the corner of your bed. "Sleep well? I sure hope so, Hongjoong nearly cried because you didn't get to mark him back before you passed out." His calm demeanor is the very antithesis of your state; frazzled and heart beating wildly in your ears. "I'm not too pleased with waiting either."

You go to pull the blanket over yourself again when he rips it off the bed completely. "G-go away, or else..." Your weak attempt at a threat makes the criminal grin, and he stands from his squatting position, looming over your cowering form.

"Oh you don't know how deep in you are, do you?" He purrs, crawling onto the mattress. It creaks pitifully under his weight as he moves ever closer.

He stops just short of being right in your face. "We own you. And when you stop this little tantrum, mark us back... you own us. A little thing like you, been on that blocker for God knows how long, you won't last but a few more hours until you're running to us with your tail between your legs. Hormones flooding your system, begging for your alphas...Begging for your mates." His eyes flick to your bruised shoulders, their marks peeking out of your scrubs. "Don't make us wait too long now, omega. We aren't patient men."

"Hwa!"

He leans away from you, yelling back to the voice, "what?!" His booming voice makes you jump, and take a deathly tight grip your pillow.

"Food!"

He looks back to you, and it's as if you can tell what he's thinking. You shake your head, slapping his hand away when he goes to grab your wrist. "C'mon now, you won't want an empty stomach when we mate-" He's cut off when a pillow hits his head, leaving him to let out an exasperated sigh.

Hongjoong turns around just as Seonghwa rounds the corner with your fidgeting form over his shoulder. "Hey, Dolly!" He greets casually, like this is an everyday occurrence, as he sets down the plate he's holding next to the other two on your little round table.

"Help! Help me!" You scream, gasping as you're quite literally thrown in a chair.

"No use in that," Hongjoong begins as he sits opposite of you, "no one will hear you. We cleared this place out. If they aren't dead, they're in the prison with our pack."

Your eyes well with tears. You don't doubt his words for a second. Massacring and holding a town hostage wouldn't even be on the top three of their crimes.

You take a shaking breath and gather yourself, glaring at the blonde silently. "Oh are you mad?" He asks teasingly. "We made ourselves comfy, hope you don't mind! Lovely little place you've got here."

You choose to stay silent, not trusting your own voice as it wavers even in your head.

"Eat up," Seonghwa pushes one of the plates to you, but Hongjoong snatches it back, eyeing you as you eye it.

It's been a full day since you've eaten, judging by the rising sun in the window. And you silently curse yourself for skipping lunch.

"Something you need to do first, Dolly." He taps his neck, a small grin playing at his lips as he notices your eyebrows push together. He wishes he could crawl into your head and see all of those thoughts that are undoubtedly suffocating you.

And they are. Your lungs feel heavy as you weigh every option against one another. You could run- but you've never outran an alpha, let alone two. You could hide- but that didn't work too well in the prison. You could simply refuse to return the bite- but the last wolf who did that was turned inside out, literally. You could simply cry and hope for their mercy- but you knew it would never come.

Your chair scratches the hardwood under it as you slowly push yourself away from the table. You notice you're missing your shoes as you trudge the few feet that feel like miles.

Hongjoongs head is eagerly turned to the untainted side, Seonghwa's mark mirrored to where you must leave yours.

You attempt to tune out the joyous howling of your wolf, tell her this is not a good thing. But she doesn't care. All she says is-

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

You wince as your canines push through your gums unannounced, lip snarling upward to give them room.

Seonghwa watches with a sadistic glint in his eye as you bend forward, tears building up in your own.

You hate to admit that Hongjoong, both of them really, smell wonderful. But your wolf sure doesn't, she only chants louder.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Your anxious breathes fan against his neck, goosebumps arising in response and anticipation.

His heart is skipping beats. You're so close that you can hear it.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

With a quick movement, your teeth are sunk into his flesh, forever bonding you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The searing water pelts your back. Steam swirls in the air. Your cries and sniffles echo on the linoleum tile.

After marking both alphas you didn't have much appetite but, after helping you rinse your mouth, Hongjoong had made you eat everything on your plate before he let you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in.

Despite the pull in his gut, the urge to break down the door and comfort you, Hongjoong had forced himself to leave. He couldn't listen to your cries, even if he was the cause of them.

That left the older alpha alone in your humble living room. He tuned his ears to focus on the rainfall, the rolling thunder, the periodic knocking of your air conditioning, anything but the sound of your sorrow.

You don't quite find it in yourself to care who is or isn't in your home, you find yourself with a much more immediate problem.

Seonghwa was right.

You feel heat bubbling to life in your lower stomach, slowly consuming the ball of anxiety that resides there. Your wolf is loud. She won't shut up. Mate this, mate that, knot this, and knot that. You wish with every ounce of your being that she wouldn't be such a primal animal, but that's much like expecting a wild animal to be house trained.

You find your tears slowly drying, washed away from your cheeks by the ever falling water.

You hadn't had a heat in a good long while. And now you were mated to two alphas? Seonghwa was right, and you are beyond fucked. You'd never even had a partner during a heat.

A whimper trembles past your lips without your consent, small and pathetic much like how you feel.

You go to grip the knobs, gasping as you see your claws. They look thicker than before, darker as well. You bring them to your face, turning your hand over and inspecting them. "What..."

A knock at the door startles you enough to grab the tub, new and improved nails leaving indents on the acrylic fiberglass. "(Y/n)? Don't get too hot, the steam is coming out into the hall."

"Go away!" You squeeze your eyes shut, praying Seonghwa didn't hear the sorry crack in your voice.

Your prayers, much like yesterday, go unanswered, unheard. "Are you okay in there? I know... I know the situation isn't ideal-"

"Shut up!" You growl, hand immediately slapped to your mouth in shock of your own outburst. The quiet is eating you alive, making you wish the raining water above you would somehow drown you.

"I'm coming in."

"No! Just fucking leave me alone." Your eyes are wide at the sound of your own voice once again. You, your body is curled into the corner of the tub wanting to disappear and become one with the tiles below you. You, your mouth is loud and proud with your anger.

He opens the lock with his claw, breaking your deceptive sense of privacy. The stream rises into the hall in a thick fog, obscuring his vision. He tries to look for your outline behind the shower curtain but he finds nothing. When a small sniff sounds, his eyes flick to the source. The shadow of a curled up body.

When he grab the curtain, your voice comes out quietly. "Please don't touch me."

"I won't." He speaks shortly, opening the fabric just enough to turn off the water. Immediately, with no sound to drown it out, he hears your irregular heartbeat. "I won't," he says with a voice soft with promise.

The silence drapes you both, listening closely to one another for any sign of movement or speech.

Your ears are perked up, eyes wide and wild as you watch his silhouette take a seat on the closed toilet. He seems to be watching you as well.

"You're in heat." He breaks the hush with a punch. It's not a question, more so it's an observation from his sharp senses.

"Yes." You whisper back.

"How long since you had your last one? That blocker was in there deep." His voice holds something like quiet empathy, which makes your wolf want to crawl to him even more. You try to calculate the years to give him a good estimate of how bad this will get, but your brain feels too hot in your head.

"Long," is all you can muster up.

The quiet blankets you again, the only sound the raging storm outside. A clap of thunder makes you jerk, wrapping your clawed hands around yourself for a sense of comfort.

His hand comes through the gap in the curtain, holding your large fluffy towel. You take it with an almost silent thank you, wrapping it around your shoulders as you stay seated.

He watches the steam dissipate, surveying your small bathroom. The tub and shower which currently holds you takes up the short wall. The toilet he sits on has a soft fabric covering on the lid, the short blue yarn matches the color of the walls and the striped curtain. Your medicine cabinet has small little flowers painted on it with an obviously careful hand. Your products on the counter are organized in re-used plastic containers. Your clothes are set on the edge and awaiting you.

He wonders what you'll do to their home when it becomes yours as well.

When you shuffle, he looks back to your distorted form. Slowly standing, you clear your throat. "Can you, uhm..."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he mutters as he stands, closing the door behind him.

Taking a peek around the drape, you make sure he's really gone before you step out and quickly dry yourself off, blinking away the tears that start to build again.

With a fresh outfit on and having scrubbed off as much of them as you could, you step out of the bathroom for the first time in hours. Hongjoongs scent is weak, making you briefly wonder where he went as you tip toe around your own home.

The door to your room is still ajar, but a glimpse inside shows no sign of the alpha who's smell is still strong. The sound of the TV draws you out to the compact living room. There, you can see the back of his head as he faces the box television, watching a rerun of Starsky and Hutchy.

He says nothing as you sit down, and you say nothing back. He's not paying attention, and neither are you. But neither of you dare speak first.

˚➶ ｡˚

How you fell asleep, you have no idea. But the slam of the front door makes you jump awake, grabbing the nearest object which happens to be Seonghwas forearm.

He places his hand on yours wordlessly and turns to see whoever has the nerve to wake you. "Mingi?" He groans after a moment of reflection.

The strange man in your home, Mingi, is tall, taller than Seonghwa- and it makes you cower into the alpha subconsciously. He shakes the rain water out of his short pink hair in a way akin to a dog after a bath, unbothered by the glare and the wide eyes on him. "Hey!"

"What are you-"

"Joong sent me," he lifts up a duffel bag with a grin, kicking his shoes off as to not drag mud into your home and piss off his alphas mate. "Hi," he smiles more politely towards you as he slowly approaches, noticing your arms tremor.

"You forget how to knock?" Seonghwa grumbles as he stands, hand hesitantly leaving your own as he walks behind the couch to join the man.

"Well I didn't hear anything, I figured you were sleeping or something." He shrugs simply as he sits the bag on the sewing machine you use as a desk.

"We were, asshat." The brotherly bickering of the pack mates makes you smile, and you hide your lips in the cushion as you watch them carefully from you backwards seating on the couch.

The pink haired man's attention lands on you as Seonghwa looks through the clothes in the bag. "Hi, 'm Mingi," he smiles kindly, holding his hand out to you only for it to be smacked down quickly by Seonghwa with a glare. "Uhm, rude," he rolls his eyes with a clear playfulness.

"No touching," he huffs shortly, eyes flicking back to you. "He touches you, I cut off his fingers. I'm going to shower." He leans over the back off the couch and lifts your face out of the fabric gently, taking your lips in his possessively, leaving you flabbergasted as he leaves as quick as he came.

Mingi whistles lowly as the bathroom door closes, chuckling at your starstruck expression. "This fuckin' guy, am I right?" He jokes, smiling awkwardly as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I'm an omega too, don't worry. I know it's scary coming across new wolves when you're like us, not knowing..."

You nod silently, eyeing him up for any sign of danger. But you only find him shivering. "You want a towel or something...?"

"Oh, if it's not any trouble," he smiles again, the gummy nature of it reminds you of Jihyun, and you find a lot of your nerves draining away. He's an omega like you, so you have a fair chance against him. And despite everything, you doubt Seonghwa would let anyone hurt you, let alone someone from his own pack.

You sneak by him quickly and into the closet in the hall next to the bathroom, where you can hear the water running.

"Here you go," you hand it over before taking a seat again, turning backwards on the couch to keep an eye on him as he towels off his hair.

Starsky and Hutch keeps the silence from being too stiff, but it's clear Mingi has a lot of words on his tongue fighting to come out as he dries his arms.

"Do-"

"Is-"

"Sorry," you both mumbles as you speak over each other. You motion to the seat next to you and he takes it with a quick, "thanks."

"So," you begin, tucking your knees under your chin, "he's your alpha?"

"Both of them, they lead together." He nods as he speaks, looking around your home.

"That's weird," you mumble to yourself, picking at the string on your sock, "how does that work?"

"Well... I mean they just kind of lead us all together. Make decisions together, it's not a dictatorship actually- they let us vote on stuff sometimes, it's nice. I'm sure you'll come to understand our pack, we're just a bit... different."

"How did, uh, I mean I've heard some stuff, I dunno-"

"You can ask me. I know those two probably weren't very talkative."

"Yeah," you chuckle quietly, taking a peek at him, "they made their own pack, right? How did you end up here?"

He looks back at you and slowly relaxes in his seat, both of you growing more comfortable as your wolves sniff one another out. "Yeah, that's right. They didn't roll up on a village like this and say, 'who's the strongest, let's fight', like most alphas come to be. They found each of us and asked us to join, didn't just demand it. I was one of the first, actually. They found me stealing some food in Minnesota, told me pledge my loyalty and I'll never be cold or hungry again."

"And?"

"Hm?"

"Have you been?"

"Never," he shakes his head, "they're good alphas. Maybe not the best people, but good alphas. I'm sorry you had to join us this way... they can be a bit impulsive, impatient." His eyes are low and voice even lower, like he's trying to hide his words from the man who's most definitely listening in. "They aren't monsters, at least not the kind the news makes them out to be. They're the monsters the world shaped them into."

You feel his wolf calling out to yours, albeit weakly. You've never felt it before. Is it because you're finally apart of a real pack? Because you're his alphas mate? Your eyes flick to your wolves and his follow suit, a pink color that matches his hair.

"Mingi." His voice breaks your small staring competition, both of you looking to him. He looks a lot different on his own clothes, and it makes your annoyingly loud wolf even louder. His forearm sleeve and neck tattoo is on show in his dark grey wifebeater, finally freed from the long sleeve orange top. The marks on his shoulders are out and proud as well. His bell bottom jeans make his long legs look even longer, like he's more than half leg. His inked up fingers work nimbly to buckle his belt. That's when you finally look away, sinful thoughts flooding your head thanks to your building heat.

"Has Hongjoong come up with a plan with the rest of you?"

You don't register that he's come up to the couch until he's picking you up. You grab onto his shoulders and bite your lip as you yelp.

"He says we should just sneak attack their camp, Jongho's been able to sus out their location with his-" Mingi clears his throat to stop himself as Seonghwa sends him a glare while he sits, settling you in his lap. "With some intel... says they only have two scouts at a time."

You curl up on yourself, breathing deeply- which turns out to be a grave mistake. Seonghwas sandalwood scent floods you all at once, the musky smell of the prison washed away. A wave of arousal hits you like the one in the shower, and he squeezes you closer to his chest.

"He'll tell me about it later, go on and go back to the prison and tell him come back."

"Wha-"

"Go now."

"Yup, yeah, I'm gone." Mingi jumps up, leaving the towel on the couch as he dashes to the door, disappearing with a quick, "later!"

You try to scramble away the second the door shuts, but the alpha grabs your ankle and pins you to the couch. "Please, please!" You shake your head while sniveling, quieted when he cups the back of your neck softly.

"Calm down, omega," he whispers, keeping his weight off of you, "you need us to get rid of that heat, you know that don't you?"

You nod dreadfully, burying your face in the cushion. "I don't want-"

"Tell me what you want, and that's what I will do. Nothing more. I won't force you to do anything but I won't let you suffer in your heat, do you understand?"

"Yes..."

"Do you want me to let you go?"

Despite yourself, you whisper, "no..."

"Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want, omega, and I will give it to you."

˚➶ ｡˚

By the time Hongjoong crashes through the front door clumsily, both of you are gone from the couch. A trail of torn clothes and the call of soft moans lead him to your bedroom, the door open wide to provide him a beautiful view.

You, in your bra and nearly nothing else. Legs spread around Seonghwas shoulders and socked toes curling into the bed. Your sharp teeth out and peeking through your lips as they part with a moan.

Seonghwa, kneeling and back arched as he anchors himself between your legs, forearms wrapped around your thighs. His tank top rising up to expose the ink on his lower back. Low, muffled moans rumble in his throat.

"Started without me?" He asks smugly after he catches his breath from the overwhelming scene.

Seonghwas head snaps back at the intruder, eyes red and jaw slick- but he goes right back to his meal, making you yip in surprise. Your eyes stay locked on his, lit aglow just like the alphas between your legs. Your chest rises and falls with bated breathes.

"Hongj-ah!" You grip the straps of Seonghwas top, eyes squeezing shut as you whine.

Your logic and reasoning went out the window the second Seonghwas eyes turned red with lust. Now, you let your wolf get what she wants for the time being. You forgot how badly heats burn.

Your bed dips and creaks with the additional weight as the younger alpha joins you. You feel his breath over the healing mark he left, followed by a lick which makes you gasp.

Every touch both extinguishes the burn and makes it hotter.

"You smell so good," Hongjoong coos into your neck, hands slowly wrapping around your waist, "will you let me have a taste too?"

"Y-yes!" You nod eagerly, fidgeting under his light touches until a slender hand presses down on your stomach to keep you in place, followed by a growl.

"I'm not done, am I, omega? I thought you wanted to cum on my tongue? That's what you asked for, after all," Seonghwa teases as he pulls back, free hand playing with the slick between your thighs. He watches with a smirk as you nod, over and over. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! Please, Seonghwa!" You feel a pinch in your gut as you beg for the criminal, but it's washed away with another surge of pleasure. A soft hand on your cheek makes you push your eyes open, coming face to face with Hongjoong.

"Poor omega," he pouts as he traces your jaw, "those blockers are good for nothing, only cause problems. We'll take good care of you, don't worry. Anything you want, Doll. Anything at all."

Your request is wordless. A pull at his belt loop with your clawed finger.

˚➶ ｡˚

You're fast asleep with your heat satisfied for the time being, sandwiched between the two alphas in your small bed. They keep quiet, enjoying the moment. They know that when you awake without your heat blurring your mind, you'll be distant again.

And they don't blame you.

Mingi was right, they're impulsive. They wanted you and they got you the second they could. They'll do whatever they can to make you realize you're meant to be their omega, their mate. They'll build the trust one step at a time, they just had to make sure you wouldn't slip away in the meantime.

Your breathes are slow and steady, deep in the hands of exhaustion. One of your legs is hooked across Hongjoongs hips, the other tangled in Seonghwas bell bottoms. Your arms are wrapped around the blondes neck, head buried in his shoulder.

Seonghwa has one arm tucked under both of your heads, fingers twirling Hongjoongs hair mindlessly as he holds a joint between his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke out slowly. His pants are undone and underwear clumsily pulled back up.

Hongjoong has his eyes closed peacefully, though he's not sleeping. He's listening intently to your heart beats, enjoying the familiar smell of his alphas smoking and the feeling of your naked body clinging to his.

"Leave tomorrow?" Seonghwa whispers hushedly, letting the smoke in his lungs out in a puff.

"The quicker we get home the better. We need to start making a real plan for that fuck face Greene." He snarls silently, pressing his nose into your hair in an attempt to calm himself.

"And make sure no one messed up while we were caged."

"They told me Yunhos been taking care of the traffic flow, we should be good on that part. I just want to get my claws bloody."

Seonghwa chuckles, rubbing his temple, "you know what's fucked? If that coward didn't rat us out, we wouldn't've found our mate."

Hongjoong cracks a small smile, cradling your unconscious body close to his chest as Seonghwa stands. "Maybe I'll go easy on him then." He smirks, watching his shoulders bounce with silent laughter as he leaves the room, a trail of smoke following him.

Seonghwa closes the bathroom door behind him, staring at his reflection. He takes the joint between his index and middle finger, leaning toward the glass.

Hongjoong was made for this world, for his world. But were you? Had they just doomed you to a pitiful existence? Did he even care if they did?

Peddling drugs and getting your claws bloody. He couldn't imagine you doing it. But he couldn't imagine letting you go.

He pulls his jeans down and his boxers leg up, snuffing out the joint on his thigh.

˚➶ ｡˚

"It ain't a crime to be good to yourself! Lick it up! Lick it up! Woooo!"

Your body is slung to the door of the van as Hongjoong drifts around the corner, the loud rock music only rivaled by his singing of it. You grab onto the passenger seat infront of you to hold yourself steady. "Does he have to be the one to drive?" You yell to Seognhwa who's in the row of seats behind you, laid across them with a grin.

"He likes to pretend he's driving The A Team van!"

The van skids to a stop infront of the prison, and you have to force yourself to look away least you think about the people who are still being held hostage inside. "C'mon up here, Doll," Hongjoong holds his hand out to you in offering, and you take it. You crawl over the cup holder in the middle and land in the passenger seat, grabbing the bag they had let you pack before dragging you away from your home.

"Where are we going?" You ask quietly, thankful that Hongjoong had the ears to be able to hear you over his cassette.

"Back to our stomping grounds," he hums as he hits the button to unlock the doors, letting in the approaching group of people. "Los Aranza, it's in sou-"

"What's up fuckers?" A young man shouts over the music as he hops into the middle row, making you jump as you look back. He smiles your way kindly, uttering a softer, "hey."

Mingi, who throws you a small smile, is climbing in next with a buffer man who immediately gives you the chills and a woman who looks like a sore thumb in the group.

Mingi gets in the back with Seonghwa and the woman ends up in the middle seat between the two other men despite her complaints.

"(Y/n), this is Wooyoung," Hongjoong introduces you to the first man, who waves your way. "Lia," the woman returns your awkward smile of a greeting. "And San," who, you don't expect to, leans over the center console and takes you in a sideways hug.

"No touching!" A grumble comes from the back, making San chuckle as he leans back into his seat.

"Nice to meet you," he grins brightly, promptly buckling his seatbelt when he hears Hongjoong start the vehicle back up.

Everyone else quickly copies his actions, and you get the memo the moment before the van lurches to life quickly.

The first few minutes are awkward silence save for the music, which Lia thankfully made the driver turn down.

"So, (Y/n)," Wooyoung starts up, "I don't want you to worry so..." You look back over your shoulder, taking a note of the small freckle under his eye as you search his features. "I just wanted to let you know that we called the state police before we left, it'll take a few hours but the rest of your village won't be stuck in there for too long."

The sentiment gives you the smallest hint of relief, knowing that they won't just be left there to wither until someone would notice that the whole town disappeared off the face of the planet. "Thanks..." You nod shortly, taking the time turned around to inspect the other new faces as well.

Lia has a seemingly familiar set of round and soft features, but you can't quite place it. Nor can you place her ranking in the group. She doesn't smell like a wolf, but you don't want to pry.

San, however, has the clear ego of a beta; chest puffed out and radiating confidence, but not power. He's got a smile that doesn't match any of that though, and that along with his friendly actions make you think he's not as scary as he presents.

You turn back around and face the road, watching the sign for your town wiz past.

"How far to Los A..."

"Aranza! Maybe like... 26 hours?" Lia's words make you look to Hongjoong, who's tapping away at the wheel as he speeds.

"Seonghwa," you call out.

"Hm?"

"Can someone else drive?"

˚➶ ｡˚

Your request was denied, obviously, and everyone had to hang on every time Hongjoong made a turn or hit a bump. Admittedly, it was fun to watch him let loose and sing his heart out while the wind knocked his hair around. That, paired with the surprisingly kind conversation that the pack members made with you made for a good first three hours.

After that, Wooyoung got grumpy. "I'm hungry!"

Then, Mingi chimed in, "I have to use the bathroom!"

Then, San, "My legs asleep! Ow, really Lia?"

When you gave Hongjoong a begging glance, that's when he finally started looking for an exit on the highway.

The mom and pop restaurant was run down and quiet, but you were thankful that that meant less people to see the rag tag team of criminals you were with and potentially cause problems. The van was parked half hazardously in the back by the restrooms, and Mingi was the first out from the back doors, practically dashing into the men's room.

You grab the handle to the passenger side door only to be grabbed on the opposite wrist. You look to the assailant and see Hongjoong with a questioning gaze. "What? I have to...go," you shrug his hand away, opening your door and hopping down before he can stop you again.

You hear some soft foot steps enter the bathroom as you hover, but they don't enter a stall. "Did they send you to babysit me," you groan, nearly slapping yourself as you speak before thinking again.

"Yeah, sorry..." Lia's voice is apologetic, and when you finally exit: her face is as well. "They can be a bit...uhm."

"Paranoid? Overbearing?"

"Yeah," she nods softly, using the mirror she stands infront of to look at you as you wash your hands. The way your shoulders slump and your head hangs low makes her heart ache for you. "I hope we can be friends. You're going to need some in this side of the world."

You look in the mirror in front of yourself, matching her stance as you watch one another through the glasses. "I hope so, too."

When you join the men back outside, they're all sitting on the curb with plastic bags infront of them. Lia sits in the space between Mingi and San, immediately grappling at the bag the ladder holds out to her. Seonghwa hands you one as well, nodding for you to take it, "yours."

Inside is two large styrofoam boxes of delicious smelling food, and you look up with your brows pressed together. "This is a lot of food, Seonghwa, I'm not going to eat all of this." You set down one as you open up the other and sit on the warm concrete between the two alphas.

"You need it, you're still in heat." He hums plainly, dropping a french fry into his mouth as San spits one out from his.

"Hey!" You yell, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up your neck.

"What? It's true." He looks around to his pack members, seeing the three lower men looking away from you while Lia simply shakes her head at him, and Hongjoong nods.

"He's right, we didn't even fuck- ow!" He glares at Mingi as he slaps him upside the head, "we didn't! We only y'know... messed around."

"Bro, shut up!" Mingi sends you a quick compassionate glance before turning his face to his food. "You guys have zero tact."

"Tact? What the hells that?" Hongjoong mumbles from around his burger, "you made that up."

In defiance of your anger at him, his antics make you smile as you take a bite of food.

˚➶ ｡˚

The next stop the vehicle makes is in the dead of night, the spring moon full and bright.

It was only you and Hongjoong awake when you asked if their promise from earlier still stood: whatever you need and nothing more.

He was quick to peel off the road and park the sleeping group before leading you into the woods to satisfy your once again noisy wolf.

You hate that you nearly start howling aloud when he pushes your back onto a tree, hand behind your head to protect it from the bark, and begins kissing you like he did in your bed.

He takes it a step further, slipping his hand down now that Seonghwa isn't there. His lips meld into yours as he slips his hand under the elastic waistband of your shorts. They travel lower as his fingers do the same, feeling the warmth of your heat which makes him groan into your neck.

When he feels your hands on his shoulders, he closes his eyes and cherishes your touch, letting his wolf drive him forward and press his body to yours in an act of affection which makes you dizzy.

His fingers find their way inside of you, making you gasp toward the stars. His knuckles feel like balls of velvet in your overly sensitive body, driving you nearer and nearer to the cliff of pleasure your wolf desperately needs to dive off of.

Omega heats are pathetic, you think to yourself as your knees buckle: only being held up by Hongjoongs weight pressing you into the tree as he gives you satisfaction you're incapable of giving yourself.

Thankfully, all too soon, your pleasure reaches its peak and you tumble over it, gushing on his fingers and clinging to him as he kisses the healing mark his teeth left. He wraps his free arm around your back, holding your waist tightly as you tremble. "That's it, Doll..." His voice raises bumps on the flesh of your shoulder, his heavy breaths fanning them.

You can feel his length hard against you, but you're too afraid and too ashamed to acknowledge it and he knows it. But he's content with whatever you give to him in the moment, he doesn't care about his own pleasure as long as his mate is taken care of. He presses his nose into your scent and breathes deeply, letting out a growl as he feels your core clenching.

You feel a sense of dread as you come back to your head fully, watching with wide eyes as he takes his fingers from your shorts and into his mouth. You quickly look away, and hear him chuckling.

"It's okay to want us, Pretty. We're your mates. We want you just as bad."

You share a moment of sincere eye contact before your tears blur his image. "I'm afraid." You confess in a short huff, breathing in the soft wind that surrounds you.

"Of what? We'll never let anything hurt you." His voice holds a simple directness, he means every word he says and he doesn't see the need to be poetic with it. He just wants to convey the truth to you. "Anyone looks at you the wrong way and I'll gut them. I'll put their head on a pike to show everyone else not to fuck with you."

With his body once again pressing into you, albeit with a softness that wasn't found in your last heated moment, you find yourself looking down to avoid his wild eyes. He can smell a bittersweet spike of fear in your scent, and his brows furrow together.

"I'm afraid of you... and of Seonghwa. You frighten me. You don't-" You bite your tongue before you let your emotions speak for you. After a moment, you break your silence, "you don't even know me... and it scares me what you're willing to do. You're criminals. And if... if you don't find me a suitable mate that I'll be next on your list of victims. I didn't ask for this, Hongjoong... I didn't want this."

His face is stoic for a spell, but his lips slowly curve upward into a bestial grin: followed by the giggles that had haunted your dreams after the first time you heard them. "Oh, (Y/n)," he snickers, eyes closing with the force of his laughter. It rings out in the silent night and mocks you. What could he possibly be finding so funny about your legitimate fears?

His body collapses into you as he laughs manically, making you freeze with a cry- your body trying to make itself small. You close your eyes, taking sniveling breaths as you will yourself to block out the deranged laughter. "Oh, you're just so adorable!"

"S-stop laughing at me," you whine, attempting to push his weight off of you as the bark begins digging into your back. He doesn't look it, but he's heavy as all get out as he slumps into you.

He grips your wrists as you push at his chest and pins them into the tree with his claws caging them in, all laughter gone in a spilt second as he glares down at you. "Now you listen, Doll," he growls between his teeth, making you cry sharper and clench your eyes tighter. He doesn't like that one bit. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, omega!"

You sheepishly open your eyes, too afraid to disobey him even though he's scaring the living daylights out of you with his mood swings. His eyes slowly return to normal, black fading into nothingness at the sight of your fearful eyes.

"Now you listen close, yeah?" He speaks softer than before, kicking your feet apart to stand between them and get closer to you. "You don't quite understand, I think... We could fucking smell you the second we rolled into that place. Now, Seonghwa thought it was a trick- a stupid ploy to get us to be tame. But when you walked into the room, oh we knew it was real! Just one wiff of your fresh scent and my wolf was clawing to get out. Even with that stupid blocker in your neck, we could smell you and that's how we knew. Other alphas won't even understand so it's okay that you don't. But, Doll, you were made for us, and we were made for you. The moon cut us from the same cloth, three pieces from the same puzzle. You were ours the second you were born, and we were yours. We are each others. We are each other. Mind, body, soul, and wolf, we belong to one another. So don't think for a second that we don't know you, okay? We are you. We'll chase you to the ends of the goddamn Earth if we have to. So don't ever fucking say some shit like that again, got it?! I would break open my chest and shove you inside if that's what it took to keep you safe. I'd walk on my hands and knees for eternity if that's what it takes to make you happy! So don't say some shit like that again, am I understood? You are our mate and we will treat you as such, nothing less than a Goddess among wolves and we the Gods that rule beside you. Do you understand?"

You're too busy sobbing, your small sniffles having grown into full blown fat tears and cries during his monologue, to answer him. He withdraws his claws and your arms fall limp to your side. His palms are warm and comforting on your cheeks even as he says firmly, "nod if you understand."

And all you can do is nod pathetically.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART TWO END ˚➶ ｡˚

#yandere fic #smut fic #ateez fic #yandere ateez #ateez matz #ateez au #ateez smau #park seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #seonghwa smut #kim hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yandere ateez x reader #yandere x reader #werewolf au

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melancholyhigh · 10 months

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LATE NIGHT CALLS.

ft. leon x coworker!reader

synopsis. leon misses you so he gives you a call.

content. smut. 1.3k words. phone sex, leon's pov, needy leon, masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, mommy kink.

note. hello?? thank you guys for 700 followers!! i haven't even figure out what i wanted to do for 500 as yet. i appreciate all of you guys so much <33

masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs :3

Leon huffs as he lies in his bed. He can’t help but think about you.

He wonders what you’re up to. It was midnight the last time he checked, and you’re probably working on a case. He doesn’t like when you’re up late, coming to work the next day with exhausted eyes and greeting him with a tired smile. Maybe he should check up on you like you always did for him.

He didn’t want to disturb you, though. But he needed you so badly.

Glaring at his phone on the bedside table, he thinks about how he’d explain himself for calling you in the dead of night.

I really fucking need you. Leon thinks to say, but that might be too straightforward.

He regrets not talking to you after getting back from his mission. It wasn’t his fault. It was the one thing he looked forward to doing. Leon knew you’d greet him with the biggest grin on your face even though your brows were etched with worry when you asked him if he was alright.

Good job, agent. You would praise. You’re amazing. You know that?

It’s the exact words you uttered that one night. The entire mission was blurry, except for the sweet phrases you let slip as you comforted him.

The both of you were stationed at a rundown motel for the night, awaiting further instructions. He vaguely remembers that there was one bed, and you persisted for him to take it.

“You always have a stick up your ass, Kennedy?” you mused. “You need rest. You’re giving yourself a hard time.”

Leon had rolled his eyes before giving in, resting on the rock-hard mattress before succumbing to slumber. It has been mainly calm — as peaceful as a crusty motel can be until he recalls you waking him up, concern lacing your voice.

He felt the tears in his eyes slipping down his face, and then it hit that he had a nightmare. Leon inwardly cringes at the memory, grateful he doesn’t recall the dream. It felt so childish, a nightmare. But at that point, you didn’t care.

He was so weak and vulnerable, and you tended to him. You sat with him, talked to him, and told him everything would be alright. The recollection has heat blooming within his chest.

From then on, the relationship between that you and him changed. You’re closer, and he’s honestly disappointed that it took so long for him to acknowledge you.

–-

Leon sighs. Why did most nights end up with him thinking of you? It had been worse since he was away for a few weeks. He feels neglected even though you owe nothing to him.

He lets his mind wander, thinking about your touch featherlight along his body. He allows his hand to trail to his tummy, abs flexing, as he mimics how you would touch him or how he wishes you would handle him.

Leon gasps softly, palming his hardening cock through the confines of his boxers. His eyes squeeze shut, and his other hand squeezes his pec.

Fuck it. Grabbing the phone off the bedside table, Leon dials your number, placing his phone to his ear. After a few rings, you answer.

“Hey, Leon, everything okay?” your ask, your voice soft, and you’re clearly exhausted. He feels wrong for calling, but his need outweighs his morals.

“‘M good. I just wanted to talk to you,” Leon says, trying to keep his voice from faltering. He hears a laugh from the other side and the rustling of your blanket, he assumes.

“It’s late. You should be getting your beauty sleep, pretty boy.”

Leon scoffs, hypocrite. Though the way you mutter the pet name has him breathless.

“I miss you,” he grumbles, eyes squeezing shut again.

“Oh, really?” The tone is teasing, and he imagines that’s what you’d say when he’s pleading for your touch.

“Yeah– can you tell me how your day was? Talk to me, please?”

“Uh, okay, Leon. Are you sure you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine! J- just keep talking, please.”

You were thoughtful, asking him if he was alright, but he’s selfish. Getting off to your voice because he was so fucking horny for you.

“Well, my day was pretty bad. My week, actually. It felt like something was missing, ya know?” You sigh.

“Uh-huh,” Leon responds, not even sure what you said.

His body is so fucking warm. It feels like he’s burning. Not just from arousal but the guilt that lies with him as he shamelessly pulls his boxers down, his dick swollen as it slaps his stomach.

The guilt washes away when you tell him you missed him too. Blood runs straight to his cock as he moans loudly. He hasn’t even touched himself as yet.

Your thoughts are cut short, and there’s a beat of silence as you gather yourself.

It’s over. Leon thinks.

“Leon? Are you touching yourself?” you questioned. You sound confused, not mad, and he wonders if there’s not enough blood pumping to his head. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“Is that why you called me at one in the morning? Pretty baby just wanted to cum.” You mock, and fuck does it go straight to his cock.

“I needed you so badly,” Leon exasperates. He got onto his tummy, burying his head into his pillow and rutting his hips into the mattress. His precum dripped onto the sheets of his bed.

“Mhm, did you come as yet, pretty boy?” your whisper.

“N- no, mommy.” It slips out, and he can’t help it. Gosh, can he embarrass himself even further?

“Oh? Did you want mommy to help you, Leon? It’s okay, baby,” you sigh before instructing, “Want you to stroke your pretty dick f’me, honey.”

He shifts onto his back again, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he grasps the shaft and gradually tugs it. Soft groans escape him as precums oozes out the tip, leaking onto his tummy.

“I wish it was your hand, mommy,” Leon whimpers. He’s so far gone. He had wished for moments like these where he’d be yours, though he hoped for different circumstances.

“Me too, baby. I’d take my time with you,” you mumbled breathlessly. He wonders if you’re touching yourself. Rubbing your puffy clit as you listen to him whine in your favour, your cunt stuffed with your fingers.

He increases his pace, pumping his aching cock faster. He’s so loud, and he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t encouraging him to be louder.

“You sound so sexy, Leon. I can’t wait to have you.” How were you going to have your way with him? Maybe you’ll stroke his cock like he’s doing, pinching his nipples, sucking on them til they're abused and red. He hopes you’ll ride him, bouncing on his cock for pleasure, not letting him come once.

Sloppily fucking his fist now, his head tilts back into the pillow, his hair sprawled out, and his phone is next to his ear as he listens for your quiet moans.

He can’t wait to get his hands on you, sucking on your tits or clit, as you ride his face until utter bliss.

“Come for me, Leon. Come as if you’re inside of me.”

“Holy shit.” Leon groans, the knot inside his tummy snapping as he spurts his cum out, trickling onto him as he rides his orgasm out.

You’re still on call as Leon breathes heavily, trying to collect himself. You break the silence.

“Wish I could’ve seen you coming,” you huff out. “Bet you look even prettier.”

“Did you touch yourself?” Leon asks in disbelief, cleaning himself off with the box of tissues near his bedside table.

“How could I not? You had me dripping. I have to change my sheets now.” you joke, and Leon blushes, grateful you can’t see him. He couldn’t believe he had such an effect on you.

“Can I take you out sometime?” Leon asks nervously. He hopes this doesn’t change the relationship you shared for the worse just because he was a horny mess.

You giggle, and he swears it’s the most gorgeous sound ever.

“Sure thing, baby. Where do you plan to take mommy, hm?”

You weren’t going to let him live that down won’t you? Not that he minds, of course.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #✩‧₊˚ fics

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uravitypng · 16 days

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𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: bakusquad x chubby reader (katsuki bakugo + hanta sero + mina ashido + eijiro kirishima + denki kaminari)

word count: 4.4k words

a/n: definitely haven't been working on this for months <33 this turned out more fluffy than intended for a free use fic asdfghj. basically they all need to be dating!!! none of the bakusquad have any contact with each other... yet... idk i might make a part two where they're not just taking turns but all together with the reader

content warnings: free use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving & m!recieving), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, groping, biting, dumbification, slight breeding mention, somno, wlw, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr)

when becoming friends and roommates with the bakusquad you didn't realise what it would exactly entail. becoming friends with five successful pro heroes while you're a civilian is something you would never expect, not in your wildest dreams, so it's not a surprise to you that your feelings for them grew with each day and after a particular turn of events you let them use you however they wanted. if they want to take out their frustrations of a stressful day by roughly fucking you than you're more than willing to oblige to their request or if they want to tenderly make love to you after an emotional and exhausting day you're more than willing to oblige- you're their toy after all.

they'll use you anywhere and anywhen, it doesn't matter if you're in public or if you're sleeping, you've given them your full consent.

the first time it happened was with katsuki. he was angry and annoyed and you didn't know what to do, you've never truly seen him like this before and you haven't been friends with him as long as the others have been friends with him, you didn't want to make it worse. ideally you would ask the others what you should do but they were all busy working.

you later found out a journalist cornered him after a minor rescuing incident and asked him more intrusive questions than normal and that day it got to him more than normal too. for some reason the press always seems to ask him more personal questions than other heroes you know and you can't figure out why but you have a few ideas: to see his reaction, to get more information about his private life from him because he's one of the more secretive heroes, or to see his 'real' personality wondering if everything they see in public is all just an image.

"i'm sorry katsuki. is there anything i can do to make you feel a bit better?" you ask him and in less then ten seconds he's pinned you against the wall and is biting your bottom lip making you moan, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues and muffling any surprised noises that threaten to come out of you. you feel his large callus palms run all over your body as he pushes up your shirt and touches every single part of his skin he can get his hands on, leaving bruises and pretty marks to decorate your equally pretty body.

katsuki shoves his hand underneath your underwear, not bothering to take off your clothes and fingers you until you start screaming his name and your vision begins to go blurry.

"holy shit katsuki. feel's so good." he pumps two of his thick fingers inside of you and his ego soars as he not only feels how wet you are but hears it too as your cunt squelches and you clench around his fingers. he smirks as you come undone on his fingers chanting his name over and over again, your fists gripping onto his shirt tightly.

"this'll make me feel better," he grunts and tries to press his body closer to yours than it already was, your tits now completely pressed against him. "god shitty woman how oblivious can ya be? swear you're useless sometimes. a fucking dumbass." if you were someone else you might have taken offence to him calling you shitty woman or useless especially in the position you're currently in but you're use to him calling you names by now knowing he doesn't mean them negatively, if anything they're affectionate, most of the time he'll call people extras and you're glad he doesn't see you as an extra.

"oblivious?"

katsuki grits his teeth, "shut up," he grunts and you feel his hardened cock against your thigh, he slams his lips against yours again and starts kissing you even more furiously, if you didn't know better you'd say passionately but you don't think he'd ever kiss you passionately.

he sees your eyes glazed over with a daze on your face and smirks. his hand goes behind you to cups the curve of your ass then slaps with the sound echoing against the walls, making you whine. you feel the humidity that's resting on his palms and your whole body tingles imaging him using his quirk (controlled) on you.

"no one else has made ya feel this good have they sweetheart?" he asks gruffly already knowing the answer.

"no, no one else 'suki. no one has ever made me ever feel this good!" you reply honestly, tears starting to fill your waterline.

he knows you're being honest and if anything you're being more forgiving of your previous sexual encounters and talking more favourable about your past sexual partners than they deserve. "fuckin' criminal."

after what happened with katsuki you sat down with your friends and told them that you give them your consent to use you whenever. katsuki looked so much calmer after and his body looked more relaxed, less tension. you couldn't help but think that your other friends would be the same.

you were bashful the whole time while speaking, mumbling and looking away, your whole face felt like it were on fire but you were offering to help them all, you knew how stressful their work is and you wanted to help.

you want them, you wouldn't tell them that part though, neither did you ever have to think hard on your proposal.

all of them loved the idea, why wouldn't they? they're madly in love with you. over time all of them fell in love with you but none of them would ever make a move on you not willing to lose or jeopardise the friendship they have with you nor are they willing to make a move while knowing how the others feel about you either. you're sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and brilliant, and a hundred million more things that make you special in their eyes.

none of them thought they would ever get the chance to be with you in any such way, romantic or sexual, and they were more then content with being your friend, strictly platonic, but now they get to be your friend and they get to sleep with you, they're ecstatic.

hanta likes cockwarming with you, every single chance he gets he pulls you onto his lap and onto his cock without warning and puts on a movie to watch as he watches you squirm and try to keep still but it's so hard keeping still when the longest dick you've ever seen is inside of you and you feel it throbbing.

hanta sees you struggling and grins as you shift around and whimper quietly. you're biting your hand to try to keep silent but it's ineffective. "hush princesa, i'm trying to watch the film." he says teasingly, holding onto your plush waist to keep you from moving and lifts up your top, caressing your soft skin making you get goosebumps from the sensation of his cold rings touching you.

occasionally he'll lazily thrust up into you, making you squeak, he'll chuckle at the noises you make and get off on how needy you are for him. "you look so beautiful sitting on my lap mi amor," your heart flutters and your face heats up whenever he calls you affectionate names in his first language and especially when he calls you my love, "but aren't you suppose to be pleasing me? you seem very needy and demanding for someone who has offered their body to me." you shudder as he speaks, still with his hand caressing your body.

you look at him and pout, causing his grin to widen. "not my fault, you feel really good."

hanta's voice drops lower and becomes husky while he leans closer to you, "yeah?"

you nod your head and try to wrap your arms around him, admittedly unsuccessfully from the position you're currently in as you're facing away from him to 'watch' the movie with him, making hanta chuckle. "yeah," you reply.

hanta smirks as he looks down at you over your shoulder and tenderly strokes your arm, "beg me to move." with no hesitation you beg.

with everyone else they'll take what they want from you and get you to come as many times as they want (if they do want you to cum) without you having to beg but hanta is different, he'll make you cry and beg for him. no matter how horny he is he'll wait for you to become putty in his hands as you cry buried in the crook of his neck, trying to grind against him and wetting his shoulder with your tears, pleading for anything he gives you. he loves seeing you cry for him and plead for his cock.

you're always so pliant for him and he likes to make you even more pliant. as your reward for listening to him he grabs your wide hips and starts to move you up and down, harshly, making the ability to breathe leave your body momentarily at the sudden movement all while cooing at you, albeit condescendingly. "awe does that feel good princesa? you finding it hard to take it all?" he grins as you tip your head back and rests it on his shoulder, your moans getting louder, unable to respond and form a coherent sentence.

you feel like you feel him all the way in throat, a completely impossible thought of course but it's hard to think otherwise with each time he slams you back down and your pelvis meets his it's making you lose every braincell you have with how good you feel and how good he fills you up.

"open up," you compliantly open your mouth still in a daze and hanta spits in your mouth, grinning as he watches you swallow it without any prior audible command to do so already knowing from previous liaisons.

his pace changes, every so often becoming quicker with shallow thrusts than back to a regular pace with deeper thrusts just to tease you and make you light headed, not knowing what to expect next. his groans become more audible and he grips onto you tighter, his blunt nails making a crescent imprint on your hips. "s-shit hanta i can't, too much."

"i thought you were my good girl. you were begging for me only awhile ago." he smirks, starting to get close.

"i am! i am your good girl, promise! just 's a lot."

he chuckles at your obedience, you really are his good girl, made for him- and the others.

but he does wonder if you're that obedient with them as you are with him.

he purposefully slows down his pace and wraps one arm around your supple middle keeping you bouncing and tilts your chin up to look at him with his other hand before placing a gentle chaste kiss on your lips.

mina seizes every opportunity to lay lingering wet kisses down your neck all the way to your chest. you get goosebumps as you feel her breath against your skin and feel the sticky lipgloss left over from her lips.

mina never wears lipstick but she's nearly always seen wearing lipgloss and they're always flavoured ones, enjoying the look of how the sticky remnant remains on your skin after being transferred from her lips and how you seemingly unconsciously swipe your tongue out over your own lips afterwards to taste the flavour that remains.

whenever a man comes onto her apparently not understanding the word 'no' she comes straight to you afterwards so she can feel you up and touch your soft body and curves. you're so much better than anyone else and she's so glad that you let her touch you however and whenever she wants.

beforehand when someone was so persisted that it grossed her out she still would come to see you, you were roommates and very close friends after all. mina would complain about them and you would listen and bash them because how dare they keep being so disrespectful, unable to be take a hint or handle rejection.

the entire time when mina used to talk about them she'd think about how soft your lips looked, how good her hand would look wrapped around your throat and how she wants to go down on you so bad that you pull her hair and more importantly squeeze your thighs together in between her head.

"such a sweet little thing for me," she tells you and kisses your ankle. you whimper and she opens up your thighs wider for now, wanting to get a good look at your pretty pussy. mina flicks her tongue up against your pussy lips making a shiver run down your spine before her tongue enters into your soaking hole, moaning at your taste and your aroma, making her dizzy in the process. you can't help but squeal and shudder at the sensation as her eyes gleam with every new noise you make. she removes her tongue from inside of you, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. she flicks her tongue up again, curling two fingers back into you and starts sucking on your clit.

the pleasure builds up inside of you with every curl of her fingers, "that's a good girl, come for me," mina mumbles against your clit and you squeeze your thighs with mina's head between them, not being able to stop yourself as you're about to come again for the third time in an hour.

"oh fuck, min-" the last syllable of mina's name is silenced in an inaudible groan as the coil in your stomach snapped and you unravelled where she helped to ride out your orgasm still between your doughy thighs.

now she gets her wish whenever she wants as she's able to look up to see how your voluptuous body shakes. she gets to feel how soft and warm your thick thighs feel wrapped around her head.

as you calm down from another intense orgasm you move to look at mina, "what about you?" hinting that you desperately want to return the favour.

she can see the neediness in your eyes and giggles. "i can't right now sweet pea, i've got to go to work."

"already?"

mina giggles again, "i'll be back soon babes then we can carry on from where we left off, okay?" she smiles brightly and takes her leave feeling equalling as needy as you but who can blame her when she spent the last hour pleasuring you and feeling your plump body underneath hers and getting you see your gorgeous face scrunched up in pleasure. mina doesn't mind the needy feeling though as the look on your face is worth it as she leaves because she knows when she comes back home you'll make her feel just as good as she made you feel.

eijiro works nights a lot of the time which means typically you get woken up by him. this means most nights you sleep with only a nightie on or a baggy pyjama shirt foregoing underwear or pyjama bottoms so eijiro doesn't have to worry about fiddling with any layers and pulling them down. the only exemptions about the clothes are when it's particularly cold that night.

after work he'll want to feel your soft body squish in between his fingers as he presses down on your malleable skin, groping you wherever he can get his hands on and pumping his girthy cock in his other hand a couple times, wanting to be buried in that sweet cunt that he loves so much so it's no surprise to you to be woken up to his grunts and gentle thrusts.

whenever you do wake up he feels guilty. he knows you need, and like your sleep and he never intended to wake you up so he strokes the sides of your body and softly tells you to go back to bed while kissing your temple.

sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but no matter the outcome of trying to get you to go back to sleep your body always has the same reaction, mewls and moans leaving your body involuntarily and you becoming more and more wet with each thrust that it's dripping down to your thick thighs.

the times when you don't fall back to sleep you don't move much, very much a pillow princess in those moments but that's what eijiro prefers. he likes looking after you and treating you like the princess you are. he enjoys doing all the work so when you do wake up all you can do is rub your eyes sleepily and moan louder while he tries to shush you because no doubt someone has to be up in a few hours for patrol.

"p-please," you whine but you don't know what you're begging for. eijiro knows though as he pushes the remaining inches of his cock inside of you, you both hiss, and he slowly and deeply starts moving in you. you grab hold of his muscular forearms and whine about the pleasurable stretch.

you turn your head to the side so your neck is bare. he knows what you want more than your tired words can mumble out so he turns your neck further to the side than you did to keep you still and bites down, not hard enough to cause serious pain and break your skin but enough to hurt slightly and cause you to gasp, your mind momentarily going blank and your hips to jerk up.

before you started sleeping with eijiro you didn't know you liked the sensation of getting bitten so much until he bit you to keep himself quiet while at a very lively party. normally he wouldn't mind people hearing how good he makes you feel and vise versa but there was a minority of people at that party who were all trying to make a new hero commission and he didn't want to to draw attention to you or him with those people, knowing what the last commission did. even though you are just a civilian he wants to make sure they stay well away from you but still that wasn't enough to drag you into an empty room and fuck you until you couldn't stand after seeing how beautiful you looked that night.

ever since then biting became involved in your sex life. eijiro knew he liked biting people before you, he enjoys the surprised gasps and how bodies move but with you it's completely different, it's on a whole new level with how plump your body is, it's like heaven. no matter where he bites you there's always some part he can sink his teeth into making your body beautifully buck up uncontrollably. the whole experience and sensation making him groan and the noises you always make in bed are like no over- ethereal, just like the rest of you.

when he hears the slapping sound of your two bodies making contact get louder and louder and sees the creamy ring left over from each thrust he has to hold onto you tighter, gripping hold of your love handles, enough to leave bruises, and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cum yet. he knows as soon as he looks down at your cute face or perfect body he'll immediately orgasm so to try and make himself last longer he'll look up.

that on top of the quicker pace and him touching your clit, just the way you like it, makes you come. you clench around him and moan words incomprehensibly causing him to come too as he feels you get tighter around him.

"gonna clean you up in a second baby just let me stay inside you for awhile." at this point you're both falling asleep, he wraps his muscular arms around you tighter and manhandles your chubby body so you're laying on top of him, your arm on his chest and your face in his neck, the whole time making sure his dick doesn't accidentally slip out of you. even though you're semi conscious you know that you're going to be sleeping like this all night, both of you are too tired to move, with your last moments of consciousness being your slow blinks that you use to gaze up at eijiro admiring how handsome he is, you like when his hair is down after showering because without it being styled to be spiky you can see his roots coming through, red mixing with his natural black, even now when he's half asleep and ready for bed he looks just as handsome as he does at any fancy hero event he attends. "you feel too good to get up and leave and anyway i've got to plug you full, breed you properly to make sure it sticks." he mumbles against your forehead half asleep, drifting off only a minute or so after.

out of everyone denki is the one to touch you the most, if no one else is kissing you he's taking the opportunity to kiss you and hold you all over. he's the most emotional and vulnerable when it comes to sex too. he feels safe around you, to let his carefree persona down and to be sensitive and vulnerable, just staying fully in the moment with you.

the first time you slept together, you kissed his chest all the way to his hips making his hips buck up. he had wanted you so bad for so long and now he finally had you.

originally, you had stroked his cock for the first time and you heard a string of moans and it immediately turned you on more than you already were. as he got closer to his release he said breathy, "please don't stop, this will probably be the only chance i ever get to touch you." it had shocked you not realising that he felt that way but you didn't stop, doing what you were told, and knowing you were going to talk to him after.

not long after, he came and you threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck and clinging onto him. he was still catching his breath, "do you really think this was a one time thing denki? i told you all before that i want to do this." he blushed and squished your cheeks, a habit he had picked up on doing recently at the time, you swat his hands away and giggle, denki smiles.

denki is also the most possessive which surprised you, if you thought anyone would be possessive your guess would be katsuki but it's really denki. he gets jealous when you spend more time with the others than you do with him and will want your attention. it's even more noticeable when it comes to other people who aren't in the bakusquad.

if you ever smile too cheerfully at someone, laugh too loudly at someone's jokes or if someone flirts with you he gets extremely jealous, you never flirt back though, you have everything you need and sometimes you don't even realise they were flirting in the first place.

at times like that denki is the most vulnerable. as soon as you both get home he's kissing you tenderly and holding you like fragile treasured glass in his arms. most of the time he takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed but this time he pushes your head down gently and you fall to you knees carefully. "do you need a cushion babe?"

your heart warms at how considerate he is. you look up at him and shake your head, "i'm okay," you smile up at him and you don't miss the way his cheeks are dusted pink. unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, along with his boxers that already are wet with precum leaking from his cock, you kiss his thigh and stare at his .

denki holds onto your head as you part your lips and open your mouth, taking him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and grab a hold of his thighs. he keeps his hips still no matter how much he wants to rut inside your wonderful wet and warm mouth. when his hips do occasionally buck it makes you gag before he corrects himself and pushes back against the wall trying to control himself not to pound up into you, he wants you to control the pace. the moans that he makes as you take him further only spur you on as your pace gets quicker and your nose presses against his lean stomach momentarily before having to leave and gasp for air. denki may not be as thick as eijiro or as long as hanta but he's still big, more than people would assume, he's bigger than average (only if slightly.) denki's arm rests of his head while he takes deep breaths.

"fuck babe that was-" you cut him off as you take him in your mouth again and wrap your lips around him and you hollow your cheeks once again. his moans and groans become more frequent and you can tell that he's about to come.

his grip get's tighter while resting on your head and his groans get deeper. "gonna come, you swallow alright babe." you hum in confirmation, "shit, shit, shit," his eyebrows pinch together and his hot cum sprays in ropes at the back of your throat and you mourn not being able to properly fully taste him. denki lifts you up by your elbows and when you come face-to-face you kiss his cheek, he's not satisfied with that though and he passionately makes out with you not caring that he just came in your mouth and is holding onto your plush waist while grinning against your lips. "bedroom." he whispers in your ear making you shudder at the demanding tone he used, not often does he use it but whenever he does... well it makes your whole body tingle.

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 9 months

Text

if i fell through the floor i would keep falling ; suguru geto

synopsis; geto knocks at your front door one morning ten years after leaving everything he knew behind, fully expecting to be met with a middle finger or a hand to the throat. when you invite him in, instead, he can’t help but feel somewhat perplexed.

word count; 7.5k

contents; suguru geto/reader (platonic or romantic, up to u!!), gn!reader, geto-typical angst with lots of yearning, open-ended, geto’s pov, reader is a softie, mutual pining kinda, geto is terminally bitter and terminally lonely and also kind of a bitch but we love him

a/n; i’m extremely normal abt suguru geto and the debilitating loneliness he must’ve felt during the ten years after he left <33

”it’s been a while.”

the smile on his face must be sweet, he thinks, illuminated by the blurry light of the morning sun. as charming as it’s always been. coated in a thin layer of lighthearted deceit, a cruelly projected sense of normalcy.

with a hand raised up in cheerful greeting, geto gazes down at you.

— admittedly, he’s a little underwhelmed by your reaction.

astonishment or bafflement was maybe a little too much to ask for. you don’t look very surprised to see him at all; almost as if you were expecting him to show up in front of your apartment at the break of dawn.

and, really, maybe you were. after all, satoru must have told you already. why wouldn’t he let you in on their touching reunion, the promise of war that spilled so easily from his lips?

of course you would have heard of it by now.

still, geto can’t deny that it’s just a little bit disappointing. he would’ve liked to see your wide eyes, would’ve liked to hear you stammer a bit. the expression you’re currently sporting is something else entirely.

you look sad.

there’s a fondness in your eyes, though, unmistakable. a spark of it, entirely impossible to ignore, that catches him off guard. and there’s a softness in the way you raise your head to look up at him, a familiarity that flickers in the depths of your irises.

geto is just a little bit put off by it.

it looks the same as always. you look the same as always. and geto’s heart constricts, where it rests, tucked away deep within the confines of his ribcage.

a moment passes. the sun peeks out from beneath the curtain of the horizon, the violet and indigo of the morning sky melting into that familiar burst of ochre. and geto is content, to silently admire the way that you glow in its light.

he waits, patiently, for your expression to shift. to melt into one of anger, or repulsion, or any other kind of bitter hue.

it never does.

a sigh flows from your parted lips, instead. a soft little breath. in the bitter cold of a morning such as this, it turns into vapour as it drifts through the air. you blink, tiredly, eyelashes fluttering with something akin to exasperation.

”you’re a cruel guy, you know that?”

geto blinks. a fickle moment passes.

then, he smiles.

you’re admonishing him, but you’re doing so almost gently — with an easygoing kind of disapproval. as if you’re still in high school, huffing over the teasing bout of laughter he lets slip when you trip over air.

geto’s lips curl up, smoothly, an action he’s grown awfully used to over the years. smiles are a form of currency, he has come to realize — smiles of deceit, of fondness, of barely contained disgust. all kinds of smiles, whether plastered on or genuine. a means to meet an end.

a single tug of his lips, encompassing an immeasurable number of unspoken words.

the smile that geto graces you with is an amused one. it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s friendly enough. ”so i’ve been told.”

for a minute, you do nothing but observe him. there’s a turmoil behind your eyes that seeps out in the way you look at him, the way you shift from foot to foot and gnaw at your bottom lip anxiously. geto doesn’t interrupt, observing you in turn. waiting for one of you to move the first piece of this little morning game of chess.

in the light, he can almost delude himself into thinking that your eyes change colour, different shades and hues dancing around your dilated pupils. as you gaze over the contours of his face, a certain kind of affection blooms within them, one that geto expected to have faded over the years.

but it’s still there. and it’s the same. a little more blurry, maybe, a little faded at the edges — more matured. but still the same, despite that.

(a memory comes to him. one of you, and him; sharing a bag of chips on the school’s rooftop when neither of you could sleep.

bathed in the light of the moon, your eyes glimmered with that very same affection, like a shooting star breaking out across the night sky.)

one long, careful, tender moment passes by.

the intense contemplation on your features is almost enough to coax a chuckle from the depths of his throat. an urge to tease you creeps up on him, slowly, but before he can open his mouth you seem to come to a kind of conclusion.

and so, you step to the side — allowing him to see inside your apartment, catch a brief glimpse of the interior. you look oddly comfortable, at peace, having made your move; the next piece is his to place.

what a surprising move, though. geto can’t help it if his eyes widen just a smidge, if he blinks in a way that could almost be interpreted as briefly confused. out of all the possible scenarios he’s played out in his mind over the years, this wasn’t the one he expected to merge with reality.

”wanna come in?” you ask, tentative. your voice is inviting. a little clumsy, although he supposes that could just be because of fatigue. it is early, after all.

geto takes a moment to think.

as far as he can tell — and he always can, in one way or another — there is no deceit hidden in your expression. no signs of bloodlust, no spark of violence, no quiet resentment bubbling beneath the surface. earnest. that’s all it is. a little awkward, but candid. pure, in a way.

you aren’t trying to trick him. you’re genuinely, seriously, honest-to-god inviting him inside your apartment.

the next move is his to make.

and geto knows exactly what he should do. he should decline, politely, excuse himself with feigned remorse and a jovial invitation to his own personal hell.

(surely, you already know. the others have almost certainly told you by now. geto just wanted to personally invite you, himself. face to face.)

right. that’s what he should do. that’s the winning move.

and yet, he finds himself moving.

lips curling up on their own, without his approval, geto moves forward. one step is all it takes for him to cross the threshold of your home; a boundary he didn’t expect you to offer up so callously, truth be told, but who is he to deny the wishes of a dear old friend?

”why, thank you,” he smiles, voice pleasant, smooth like silk.

(for just a little while, he supposes he can indulge himself in the opportunity you’ve so graciously given him. just for a bit.)

geto doesn’t bother taking off his footwear, and he knows you couldn’t care less either way. allowing him to pass you by as he waltzes into your very own space, you close the door behind him. he half-expects to hear the click of the lock, but it never comes.

a particular scent envelops him, as he stands by the coat rack, unmoving — he has no intention of taking off his robes, heavy with his carefully nurtured devotion. a symbol of his choice.

the scent is familiar, but also unlike anything he can recall within the borders of his memory; a soothing blend between fresh laundry, and sunlight, and cat fur, and something rather sweet.

there’s more to it than that, though. a certain scent geto could only ever describe as you.

(his heart aches with longing.)

as he ponders the intricacies of the fragrance, geto is acutely aware of the stare burning into his back. how careless of him, to leave it facing you, unguarded and vulnerable.

what a perfect opportunity he’s presented you with; the great curse user suguru geto, forever exiled and wanted dead, now merely a fly at the mercy of the web you’ve created. trapped in your apartment with his back turned to you, a mere lamb to the slaughter.

how easy it would be, for you to plunge a knife into his flesh. to curve your way along his spine.

you do nothing of the sort, though. and for some reason, the realization that you aren’t going to irks him, even though deep down he knew that would be the case. still, it crawls its way under his skin, along the arteries of his forearm, an itch he yearns to claw away.

how foolish. how very like you.

(what a cruel thing change can be, when no one else seems to succumb to it.)

unable to do anything but accept it, however, geto turns towards you once more. you stiffen, as if burned by his gaze, and a part of him delights in it.

”how have you been?” he asks, bright and courteous. there’s a genuinity to the question that geto can’t deny. something about this situation sends a spark of fondness running through his veins.

at the sound of his voice, your eyes soften again. it’s a subtle shift, but he doesn’t miss it. doesn’t think he ever really could, because even though the light inside your eyes makes him uncomfortable, down to the very marrow of his bones, he can do nothing but bask in it. in your attention, in that heavy gaze.

a single word could never hope to faithfully describe the emotion smouldering inside it — but if forced to, geto would humbly settle on resignation.

it’s almost as if you still haven’t fully accepted it, ten years down the line, that you’re only just beginning to. like even now, you’re convinced that it’s nothing more than one big joke; that he’s about to reveal a hidden camera, and gleefully tell you that it was all a prank to get back at satoru.

naive, naive, naive. but geto can’t deny that it tastes sweet, on his tongue — to imagine that you might still have some faith in him, after all this time.

a sigh leaves your lips. you sound a little bit exhausted. it sends a pang of ache to the very center of his heart, and a part of him yearns to soothe you. another part relishes in the pain he must have brought you over the years.

the rest of him smoothly tucks those stray thoughts away, as he brushes non-existent dust off from his robes.

then, your eyes take on a more tender hue. you ignore his question entirely, and speak in a low voice. raspy and sincere, and maybe just a tad bitter, given everything.

”those robes don’t suit you, suguru.”

— a shiver travels down his spine.

suguru.

(the way your lips form around the syllables is still so lovely.)

you’re full of surprises, as always. at least to a certain extent, he was expecting you to settle on geto, to draw a firm line in the sand between him and you. the ocean and the land, always meant to be separated by that thin line, kept apart in each other’s best interest.

but geto is beginning to accept that you’re going to do this your way — sincerely.

the statement is a veil, obscuring a million unspoken thoughts, double meanings that aren’t particularly hard to discern. a silent rejection, a quiet disapproval. there’s a grief to it that sits heavy on your tongue.

taking a moment to collect himself, geto meets your gaze, and all its weight. his lips curl up into a sad smile, a little fatigued. he wonders if you can hear it, in his voice.

(maybe it was stupid of him, to think he could keep this meeting professional.)

”… is that so?”

you continue to look at him, as if waiting for something else. but geto doesn’t give you what you want, that touch of tender honesty he’s sure you’re hoping for.

”i think they suit me just fine,” he playfully disagrees, instead, tone bordering on something childishly stubborn.

you wait just a single moment more, still clinging to that hope for something sincere, anything.

then you huff. it sounds vaguely amused.

”you look like a con artist,” you deadpan, eyes flitting down to examine the outfit again. geto would be offended by your rudeness if you didn’t also happen to be right.

”how sweet of you,” he purrs, shooting you a smug smile. the words are lighthearted, mildly teasing. “that’s exactly what i’m going for.”

you give him an unimpressed look, that he mirrors with a perfect smile — and then you give in to another amused exhale, paired with a soft shake of your head.

there it is again, geto thinks. that sense of déjà vu. it’s equal parts eerie as it is comforting.

silence lingers in the air around you, as hazy sunlight flits in through the gap between your curtains and cascades across the floorboards. until you clear your throat endearingly, and walk past him.

”well, make yourself at home,” you murmur in passing.

considering the circumstances, the words are spoken fairly naturally, and geto has to resist the urge to laugh at how ridiculous this is. inviting a wanted criminal into your home, a literal mass murderer, and treating him with the same politeness you’d show to any other guest.

what would the elders think, he wonders, if they knew? would they brand you an accomplice, question your motives? put your head on the chopping block right next to his? he wouldn’t put it past them, the pieces of shit.

but despite his amusement, geto doesn’t laugh. he only watches as you make your way to the kitchen counter, a firefly catching his eye in the summer night.

(except you aren’t a firefly, and it’s not summer. it’s winter, and you’re someone geto wishes he didn’t still care for.)

”i was thinking of making tea,” you hum, voice soft but still easy for him to discern from his spot in the living room. ”do you want some?”

geto’s lips quirk up into a tiny smile. his voice is teasing, as it flows out from his lips.

”how generous,” he chirps, still idly watching the way you move around the open space, your hair changing colour in the flickering light of the sun. ”satoru could learn a thing or two from you.”

he expects you to flinch. a suitable reaction, to how casually he brings up his reunion with his best friend, like it’s nothing. like it means nothing. like nothing’s wrong.

geto knows it’s cruel, which is exactly why he does it.

but you don’t flinch. you don’t even stiffen. and he senses no anger in your body language, in the silence that settles in the space between his words and yours. all you do is exhale sharply, a little exasperated.

”you shouldn’t be so cruel to him.” a beat. your voice sounds just a little smaller when you continue. ”he’s missed you, you know.”

the reply is nearly instantaneous, and it’s bare. honest. you sound like you’re scolding him, but it’s more protective than angry. and it’s gentle, like you’re patching him up after a mission, reprimanding him for not being more careful.

at this point, geto can tell you have no intention of playing along. how annoying. he wishes you would — that earnest sadness and regret of yours is almost unbearable, and the gentle bluntness you present him with cuts much deeper than his casual cruelty ever could.

you aren’t going to play along, aren’t going to pretend you don’t care. geto wonders why you won’t, why you’re the only one who still refuses to.

satoru certainly has no issue with it. playing along, putting up a front. attempting to treat him coldly, as an enemy. but geto knows him, knows his soul like the back of his hand, and he could tell it was trembling when their eyes met. from underneath those bandages of his, the thin layer of cowardice that shields those precious eyes from the rest of the world. from geto.

and shoko is just as unbothered as ever. always playing it cool, never caught off guard or shaken to her core. geto can’t even tell if it’s an act or not, anymore. but he knows that she was angry, when they spoke that day, ten years in the past. knows she wanted to tell him off, but chose not to.

both her and satoru are like that. always have been. closed off, accustomed to bearing an unbearable weight, resigned to the ache that it brings them. acting distant in a desperate attempt to mend it.

you, though?

you were always a little too sincere for your own good, a little too true to yourself. it must hurt you, he thinks. it must hurt you even just to look at him. yet you continue to do so, unflinchingly.

that’s simply how you are.

you’ve always enjoyed dipping your toes into the grief of it all, leaning into the pain. always the first to take that step into the abyss. content to tear yourself open for everyone to see, even if no one follows suit.

never averting your eyes. never taking the easy way out.

(unlike him.)

geto hums, smiling a little at the sickening irony of it all.

the gentle clinking of ceramic resounds throughout the kitchen, and geto’s ears perk up. his gaze follows your hands, as they move to grab two cups from the wall cabinet. floral designs, he dully notes. blue bells on one, red camellias on the other. a porcelain teapot rests on the kitchen table, but no flowers adorn it.

without your expressions to keep him entertained, geto decides to wallow in the fleeting peace and quiet. aside from your soft breathing and the occasional clinking of teacups, there are no sounds to be heard.

a moment that seems to exist outside of time and space, where time passes backwards and your shuffling in the kitchen is his only concern.

eager to satiate the mellow boredom in his chest, geto’s eyes begin to flit across the space of your apartment. greedily drinking in every detail he can see, as if he’s trying to memorize it all. maybe he is.

everything he can see is a piece of your existence, in one way or another. every inch of the apartment is littered with your fingerprints, your choices and fickle tastes.

like the rich yellow of the curtains you’ve picked out to frame the glass of the windows, bright and stark and blending smoothly in with the cream colour of the wallpaper surrounding it. or the forgotten cup on the table in front of the tv, a faded green. he vaguely remembers seeing you drink out of it back when things were still good, when you both thought of the school as your home.

a book rests on the duvet pillows of your couch, but he sees no bookmark peeking out from between the pages. geto wonders if you still dog-ear your books, and thinks to himself that a crime of that calibre would warrant your own exile if the world was only fair. alas, it isn’t. war of the foxes, he reads from the cover. ironic.

along the windowsills are potted plants, stacked up next to each other, green and flourishing despite the snowy wonderland of the outside world. their leaves differ in shape and size, some accompanied by blooming flowers. he imagines you watering them, dutifully, nurturing them with gentle hands and sleepy smiles.

there are many things to look at, more and more little fragments sprouting up the longer geto continues to do so. a knitted sweater thrown over the wooden armrest of a chair. colourful candy wrappers littering the table. an old radio tucked away in a corner of the room.

geto drinks it all in — a home you’ve painstakingly created, that you’ve allowed him into. he examines it thoroughly, the way an art dealer judges a painting on display. turning the image over inside his mind, twisting it, burning it into his retinas. soaking in every little detail he manages to find.

your home.

(it’s so like you that it hurts.)

finally, geto thinks he’s had his fill of the living room. so he ventures into the kitchen, only a couple long strides away.

the scent that greets him this time is comforting, homey. the aroma of coffee grounds, a touch of leftover curry, a strong fragrance of blooming hyacinths and dried lavender sitting contentedly by the windowsill. through the translucent glass, geto sees layers upon layers of snow on the rooftops, and the gradual rise of the glittering sun.

the quiet buzzing of the electric kettle is the only sound he hears, along with the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, as his eyes wander along the kitchen.

the shelves are stacked with a variety of different spices, and glass jars of honey and jam. along the counters rest a wide array of kitchen appliances, from blenders to rice cookers to french presses. mugs with silly designs are stuffed into an opened wall cabinet, and geto recognizes some of them, to his silent delight.

there are colourful post-it notes stuck to the fridge, messy scribbles of recipes and reminders. meetings, birthdays, grocery lists. even just little doodles, smiley faces and napping cats that make his lips quirk up. and polaroids — he tries not to let his gaze linger on the picture of satoru sleeping in the most uncomfortable, inhumane position he’s ever witnessed, nor the blurry image of shoko smoking by a balcony railing, sleeves cuffed and expression forlorn. he can’t imagine either of them noticed you snapping the photos.

(no polaroids of him. of course not. why would there be?)

geto tries not to look over at the fridge again, examining the floor and furniture instead. over in the corner stands a bowl of cat food, seemingly untouched. the kitchen table is covered with a checkered cloth, kept down by a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

your kitchen is fairly small, but it’s cozy. rays of fresh sunlight envelop it in a giddy, ruminating glow. like something out of a dream.

when geto enters the space, your eyes flit over to him briefly, and he shoots you a friendly smile. your eyes do that thing, again, where they crumble a little at the corners and get a tad softer. like you’re looking at an old friend.

(he supposes you are.)

you clear your throat before speaking, as he takes in all the sights.

”what kind of tea do you want? i’ve got, uh…”

with gentle movements, you open a wall cabinet, eyes swiftly scanning over the different labels of the many boxes, jars and sachets of tea inside. dutifully, you list off the ones you can see.

”earl grey, chamomile… oolong, rooibos…” you continue, seemingly never running out of options, fingers tapping at the handle. ”ah, this one’s kinda weird. it’s supposed to be, like, cherry flavoured? don’t ask, satoru picked it out — but it tastes more like laundry detergent.”

a pause.

”it’s pretty good, though.”

geto can’t help it. the comment coaxes a chuckle from out his chest, and he’s surprised at how genuine it sounds when it spills from his lips.

you seem to notice it, too, seeing as you perk up where you stand by the counter. out of the corner of his eye, geto thinks he almost catches the fleeting glimmer of a tiny smile on your lips.

and for a moment, everything feels familiar. eerie and comforting, in equal measure. a sense of nostalgia drifts throughout the kitchen, mingling with the scent of tea leaves and sunshine and freshly baked cookies.

this is the opportunity you’ve given him — a slice of normalcy. as close to normalcy as one can come to in a situation such as this. a soft bout of laughter, shared between estranged childhood friends, one of which is a mass murderer. it’s really not normal at all.

normalcy is no more than a fever dream. that much has always been the case, but —

there’s a comfort in it, in this. the familiarity of it all. the way you settle into old roles, share knowing looks and cycle through old memories he knows you’re both haunted by.

it’s soothing.

he’s changed, and you’ve changed, but there’s still a sense of belonging between the two of you. in this moment, this sole flicker of nostalgia. in this kitchen.

and for a moment, geto almost forgets why he’s there. almost forgets the unforgettable, the inevitability of a choice he made long ago. it stings, and he wonders how you can bear it; this thin line between longing and awareness.

”so? what’ll it be?”

your voice rings out across the open space, face angled towards the table to meet his stare.

geto hums, absentmindedly, and takes a step closer.

the narrow distance between you two lies heavy, as he shuffles up right next to you, haphazardly sweeping his eyes over the wide assortment in front of him. he can almost, almost hear your breath hitch when the fabric of his clothing grazes your shoulder.

he wonders if the tea is just an excuse, to be able to come so close. to bask in your warmth.

you don’t move away.

”oolong,” he firmly decides. he doesn’t really need to think about it.

then he swiftly turns on his heel, and takes a seat by the kitchen table. confident and graceful — as if this isn’t your kitchen, but his. unconcerned over table manners, his elbows resting on the wooden board, as his jaw meets the heel of his palm. he bites into one of the chocolate chip cookies, the sweetness crumbling on his tongue.

this time, you finally do stiffen — though geto doesn’t see it. he does, however, feel your lingering stare, and when he tilts his head in your direction he catches a glint of sorrow passing through the depths of your irises.

geto blinks. he tilts his head questioningly, a cue for you to follow.

and finally, finally, you stammer. barely, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of your voice.

”ah — sorry,” you mumble, gaze falling down to the floorboards. you seem almost flustered. ”it’s just…”

there’s something raw in your voice, something that wavers.

”back then, you’d always choose earl grey.”

a long moment of silence passes.

there are a million unspoken words in that sentence, geto knows. words you’ll never say, words you’ve always yearned to say. though he has no intention of digging them out.

the sentiment is more than enough.

a bitter taste settles on his tongue, but he smiles, careful to keep his voice light.

”well,” he hums. ”some things change, i suppose.”

to that, you huff out a breath of amusement, turning around to face the counter once more. but not before eyeing his robes again, expression rich with humour.

”yeah,” you hum, lighthearted. something close to a chuckle. ”i suppose they do.”

geto grins softly, in tandem, from his spot by the table. like you’re still teenagers, sharing a look over an inside joke no one else is privy to.

after that, he simply watches you work, chewing at the treat while he waits for the tea to be done. the light of the electric kettle flickers off, and your hands curl around the handle, bringing it to rest next to the teapot on the tablecloth. he watches, expression mildly bored, as you grab the ceramic cups and the silken sachet bag of dried tea leaves.

a strong scent of oolong tea wafts through the air, when you flick your fingers to pour some of the leaves into the teapot. there’s a certain elegance in the way you pour the boiling water, slowly, in a smooth circular pattern. geto follows the movement, the rise and fall of the leaves as water fills the strainer.

you’re unhurried, methodical. there is care in the motion of your hands, the intense gaze you bear as you perform it. every slight twitch of your knuckles, the soft exhale you emit when the teapot has been filled.

geto can do nothing but watch, in silent admiration.

you put the porcelain lid back on, blocking the steam rising up in a flurry of warmth. while the tea simmers, soaking up the flavour of the leaves, you busy yourself with readying two teaspoons.

”how do you take it, these days?” you ask him, as you languidly pour hot tea into the cups. ”any sweetener? milk?”

”one cube of sugar. no milk.”

at that, your eyes flit up, recognition blooming in them as you hear the familiar sentence. but geto keeps his gaze glued to the hyacinths on the windowsill, never meeting yours.

truthfully, he says it mostly to appease you. he figures he can give you this one thing, at least — this one hope that maybe everything hasn’t changed, after all. that he hasn’t changed, in his entirety, that there’s still some remnant left of who he used to be. even if all that’s left of him is just one single cube of sugar.

it’s kind of funny. but geto doesn’t laugh.

you place a cup in front of him. the one adorned by red camellias. geto racks his brain, flitting through past conversations with florists and paragraphs memorized from non-fiction books on botany. what was it, again?

eternal love. long-lasting devotion.

the petals and the calyx of a camellia always fall together.

geto bites back a laugh. some part of him wonders if you’re making fun of him, if this is how you’re planning to release your pent-up anger — in such a petty, roundabout manner. but deep down he knows it was no more than an absentminded choice, on your part.

(you always hurt him most when it’s not your intention to do so.)

as you take a seat on the opposite side of the table, he gingerly touches the rim of the cup. soft steam rises from the liquid, its colour marigold-esque, and geto breathes it in deeply before bringing the ceramic to his lips.

you watch, in anticipation. intensely enough that he can feel it even when his eyes flutter shut, your gaze prickling his skin as he sips from the cup.

the warmth of the tea is comforting, a distinctly floral taste spreading along his tongue. there’s a slight nuttiness to the taste, a rich sweetness. as it runs down his throat, geto hears himself hum softly. a satisfied smile slips into the curve of his lips. inside the depths of his chest, a light nostalgia swirls, pleasant and tingly.

he remembers moonlit nights, whispered secrets you could only ever tell each other, the glimmer of aluminium and rush of caffeine as you gulped down the too-sweet coffee that the vending machines had to offer.

he remembers sunny mornings, muffled laughter shared in the solitude of the kitchen, basking in the floral scent of chamomile and lavender and everything in between as the world woke up around you.

with a clink, geto sets his cup down on the table, pinkie raised lightly. smile a tad bittersweet.

”this is good tea.”

a moment passes. you break out into a genuine smile, nearly beaming, delighted by his approval.

”isn’t it?” you chirp, fingers curling around your own cup, the little painted flowers adorning it. blue bells. geto recalls that old wives’ tale — how wearing a wreath of blue bells compels one to tell the truth. ”nanami got this one for me, actually.”

he smiles, perking up ever so slightly. a little more animated. ”oh?” he takes another sip. ”he always was a snob, wasn’t he.”

that makes your own smile grow, lips twitching upwards, and an amused exhale flows from your lips. a gentle breath. you always were very fond of your grumpy underclassman. ”yeah.”

there’s something familiar about this, geto can’t help but think. eerily so. an acute sense of déjà vu, the same one that’s been plaguing him all morning.

the way you’re treating him isn’t how one would treat an enemy, nor a stranger — it’s how one would treat an old friend. that, and nothing more.

(geto wishes he could say it didn’t soothe his heart so terribly.)

he allows himself to sink deeper into the rotten sweetness of it all. indulges in this one fleeting moment, before everything crashes and burns.

the world outside your kitchen is a cold one, he knows, blanketed by snow and frost that has yet to be stained red. the pure white is a warning, not a consolation — a reminder that there are still things to be lost.

the world of curses is an empty promise, the promise of suffering being rewarded. the idea that the sun will melt the frost around your legs if you wade through enough snow.

(but geto knows better.)

outside your kitchen, only one path exists for him. it isn’t a kind one, nor is it particularly comforting. but, unlike those empty promises, that path has a truth to it. an end point, that isn’t just wait and see what happens, maybe the sun will rise if you’re lucky.

he isn’t a fool. the world is as cruel as it is beautiful, which is a false simile because cruelty is only ever beautiful when you aren’t a part of it. another one of those empty promises. geto has no idea how they kept him going for so long.

but here, in this moment — the world feels rather kind. kind in the sense of being just enough, the kind of brief solace that used to give him enough hope to get through the day.

for now, this aching gap of yet-to-be-ruined is enough. it’s all that he cares about, all that exists.

— but all good things must eventually come to an end.

geto knows it better than anyone, so he isn’t particularly surprised when he looks up to see your face set into hard lines.

you meet his eyes with a certain flickering determination, a conviction — and geto knows you’re about to cross the comfortable line he was hoping you could both maintain for just a little longer.

”suguru.”

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. a smile is enough. so his lips curl up, silently.

”can i ask you something?”

every move geto makes is calculated, a performance, as your words sink into his subconscious. dragging the silence out, as if trying to waltz around the inevitable end of this sickeningly sweet game of morning chess.

the slow circling of his spoon, creating a vortex for the oolong tea to follow, as it catches the light falling from the window. the way he leans back, to make himself comfortable, letting his jaw rest on the heel of his palm as he dissects your expression from across the table.

there is something almost taunting in his eyes.

but he smiles. courteous, bright. ”go ahead.”

for just a second, he sees you falter. just a smidge, but the way your nails dig into the skin of your palm is telling, just like the way your eyes choose to linger on the tablecloth a second longer than they need to.

then you meet his eyes once more, and begin to speak. geto hangs on to your words, as if they even matter.

”i’m not expecting you to be honest with me,” you state, bluntly. he’s glad to know you’re on the same page for once. ”but i’d appreciate it if you could. just this one time. i won’t ask for anything else.”

another long and tactful sip of his tea. he wasn’t lying, before — it really is very nice. the flavour is strong and thick on his tongue, sweet and bitter all in one. expensive. the pads of his fingers tap along the ceramic of his cup, right over the red flowers that seem to taunt him so.

here it comes. your lips part, but no sound comes out, and geto knows you’re thinking of how best to phrase your inquiry. it doesn’t take you long to decide, a firmness blossoming in the scope of your iris. a sense of finality.

”are you happy?”

despite everything, his breath hitches in his throat. the movement of his fingers halts.

your question comes out clear, candid, sincere. the look in your eyes makes him feel a little like he’s being devoured. vaguely aware of how his smile wavers, for just a split second, geto can only hope you don’t notice it — but he doubts you do, because you only continue to speak, unperturbed.

”i’m sure you’ve changed a lot, these past ten years. and i’m sure you’ve had more than enough time to convince yourself that you’re happy, even if you aren’t.” you bite your lip. ”i should’ve asked you this a long time ago. but now — i’m asking.”

geto’s eyes never leave your face.

”are you happy? are you genuinely satisfied with your life? are you happy with your choice?”

there’s something desperate in your eyes, now. something geto can’t look away from, despite himself. all he can do is touch the ceramic beneath his fingers, hot enough to burn, and listen to you speak.

”if… if you are, then —”

you take a deep breath, a sharp inhale that geto would mimic if he wasn’t dead set on maintaining his composure.

”— then i won’t get in the way. i’ll let you live your life the way you want to. just as long as that’s true.”

geto looks at you, smile nowhere to be seen. time itself seems to halt, in the space of your kitchen. the current center of the world.

he doesn’t dare to even breathe.

”… but,” your voice trembles. you stare intently at your own cup, surely beginning to grow lukewarm at this point. what a waste of good tea. ”if you aren’t happy, then —”

a pause. no one says a thing.

”then what?” geto spits. his voice comes out sounding just a tad sharp, cold like the frost outside your apartment. more so than he meant it to.

your pupils waver, before you lift your head to look at him. the resolution in your eyes makes his breath hitch. an unflinching kindness, one he can’t remember you ever not having.

”— then i’ll do whatever it takes to change that. no matter what.” a beat. “even if it makes you hate me.”

such immense honesty.

geto wonders why he came here, in the first place.

to declare war. was that his genuine desire, though? or was it just another excuse?

with satoru, he can pretend. with shoko, he can pretend. with himself, he can certainly pretend.

but with you?

his fingers leave the ceramic, eyes burning with a decision mirroring yours.

geto’s burned many bridges, in his life. but this particular bridge is one he’ll miss. the cinders that follow won’t keep him warm, that much he knows.

but in the face of such honesty — such genuine kindness — he couldn’t bear not to give you a serious answer.

(it’s the least he could do for you.)

”i am.”

a moment passes. the center of the world shifts.

”i’m happy with my choice.”

it was the only one worth making.

as they fall from his lips, the words taste heavy, absolute. in the light of a morning still yet to be broken by the passage of time, your eyes shift. for a moment geto wonders if you’ll close them. if you’ll give yourself that one relief.

you don’t.

instead, you bite your lip, eyes stubbornly never leaving his own. now you look a little angry, a little frustrated. he’s glad to see that flicker of fury directed at him, at last.

”but are you happy?” you persist, frustrated in a way that buzzes with kindness and concern. a way that makes him feel rather lost.

geto hears himself speak before he has a chance to think about his answer. the voice that comes out of his throat sounds oddly soft.

”that doesn’t matter.”

”it should.”

your reply is equally instantaneous. and geto feels a tremor run through his heart.

”are you happy, suguru?” you try again, pleading. that hope of yours is back, the hope that he’ll be honest just this once. sincere, even just for a syllable or two.

the clock on the wall ticks, hands moving methodically and cruelly, second by second. another moment of time burned to cinders. geto knows what must be done.

this mindless self-indulgence was nice, for a while. but geto has more bridges to burn. more wars to brew.

one final touch. that’s what he’ll give you, in return for your generosity. one final touch of tender honesty, even if it burns his tongue.

”i will be,” he exhales, breathless. ”once all this is over.”

then he gets up from his chair, the squeaking of wood against the floorboards signaling a parting. your eyes never leave his face, as he dusts off his robes absentmindedly, glancing at the half-finished cup on the table.

then geto smiles at you. there’s a fondness to it, one he’d only ever show you. his eyes crinkle, just barely, and the dark brown of his iris shifts into a mellow amber as sunlight cascades down the contours of his face. a genuine smile.

”thank you for the tea.”

there it is. your eyes soften, again, helplessly.

you aren’t satisfied. geto doubts you ever will be.

but you’ve always been the only one to tear yourself open, the only one to step into the abyss. geto has always admired it, just as much as he’s always found it foolish. not once has he ever followed suit.

things like honesty and tenderness don’t suit him. he doesn’t think they suit any sorcerer, except maybe for you.

at last, that grieving resignation finds its way to your eyes again. it doesn’t hurt him as much this time, perhaps because he was waiting for it.

”… you’re welcome,” you breathe. a sad little breath.

geto allows himself to look at you for just a moment more.

then he turns on his heel.

”well, this was nice,” he hums. ”but i really must be going now.”

pleasant and jovial. a voice unsuited for a situation like this. geto wonders if it hurts you as much as it hurts him.

rubbing salt into wounds is all he seems to do these days, anyhow. so he smiles. ”i’ll see you on the battlefield, i hope —”

”suguru.”

…

deep down, geto knows that there’s no going back from this. that the moment he moves his feet, the moment he leaves your apartment — the moment he steps over the threshold in front of him — he can never return.

your kitchen was never his to walk into, in the first place. he was never meant to set foot into your home. that was your choice. geto can’t help but think that it’s every bit as cruel as the one he made ten years ago.

your voice is the same as always. sad and fond. familiar, in how it twists and tugs at his heart in a way nothing else can anymore.

geto waits. he’ll let you have the final word. the final piece moved into place. checkmate.

he’ll let you be the one to devour that aching gap.

curse me, he whispers to the confines of his mind. resent me. i’ve caused you so much pain.

curse me yourself, so i can hate you properly.

”if you ever want another cup, i’ll be here.”

silence falls upon the kitchen.

geto stands still, feet rooted in the spot by the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room. the ticking of the clock is the only sound he hears.

there isn’t a trace of resentment in your voice.

(he wishes you would play along, even just once.)

a low hum buzzes in his throat. the seconds stretch on; more hands moved, more time burned into nothing. the silence is deafening, thick and heavy. an intense moment of contemplation, as geto tries not to shiver under the warmth of your constant gaze, burning into his back.

the center of the world shifts, once more. the gaze of fate falls upon the two of you, bathed in the rays of the rising sun, in a kitchen where normalcy is a little more than just a fever dream.

it doesn’t mean anything, anything at all.

geto knows it. he knows it better than anyone. but maybe he can allow this mindless self-indulgence to carry on, for just a little longer. if only to give him the excuse he needs to see you again, to stand in your kitchen like this, like the view of the rising sun is something he’s allowed to behold.

how greedy. how callous. hasn’t he always been, though?

just for a little bit longer.

”… you know,”

geto takes a step forward, robes fluttering with the movement, heavy and pious. he crosses the threshold, words just above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear.

(in the space between the words, laced together with the silence, lies the ghost of a smile.)

”it’s been a while since i had earl grey.”

#something something geto being represented by a setting sun vs reader being represented by a rising sun…. u get the vibes.#this was supposed to be completely angsty but i got attached to the final line LOL. so now its just a tiiiiny bit hopeful #i mean hes still probably dying lets be honest but theres some room for interpretation if ur delulu like me #tbh the idea of geto continuing his genocidal agenda while casually having tea parties w/ reader on sundays is just.. INSANELY funny to me #every girlboss needs her selfcare day <3 #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto angst #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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hopleii · 9 months

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what type of boyfriends I think they'd be (sugawara, tsukishima, kageyama)

content: fluff, lowkey kageyama being shy, she/her pronouns for reader, a bit of swearing, i think that's it

summary: what type of boyfriend I think they'd be ! sorry if it seems a lil ooc im sorryyyy

TSUKISHIMA KEI

PIECE OF SHI--

would literally mess with you and acts like the two of you don't know each other

"have we met?"

the two of you were just flirting 10 minutes ago wth

is actually pretty sweet when its just you two and looks out for you 24/7 TEEHEEEUHEFWOJD

"be careful. your shoelaces are untied" */ties them anyway before u even bend down

HE SECRETLY LOVES IT WHEN YOU STEAL HIS GLASSES FROM HIS FACE AND WEAR IT

even if his vision is all blurry and he can't see you properly

but its okay because he's sure you look cute wearing it anyway

now give it back. >:(

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

honestly never expected to have an s/o like you

you lowkey thought he hated you when you first met because he was so quiet around you and you did most of the talking

AND HE NEVER EVEN LOOKED AT YOU LIKE ??? HUH

but under all that hard exterior he's honestly so sweet!

after a few months of dating you learn that he's grown comfortable with you and loves being with you <33

he wants to be with you all the time

regardless if you know anything about sports or not, you're going to his matches, practice matches, ALL OF IT

HE'D BE SO HAPPY SEEING YOU PLEASE KEEP SUPPORTING HIM

denies it but he obvi loves it

WOULD BE SO FLUSTERED IF YOU CHEER FOR HIM ON THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS

"You're embarrassing me!!"

"keep doing it."

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

THIS MAN.

so sweet UGH maybe you should go to a doctor and check if ure diabetic because he's just so IJSUHWDYGEWHU

the sweetest person in the whole world omg :(( he's so warm

his words and actions are so sweet its like a big hug

"You've been studying for 3 hours now, you should take a break love. I bought you a few snacks you liked in case you got hungry. Eat."

KWAJSHWDUEDUWEHUW ILOVEYOU ??

he teases you a bit though but he knows when you actually get upset

he would always praise you tho if you get too worked up

he just thinks you look so cute when you're all frustrated and speechless

he loves it when u kiss him on the forehead

"Gimme a kiss." mwa! "Another one" mmwaa!

sulks when you don't give him another one

take care of this man plz

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #sugawara koushi #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu karasuno #works—💌

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inf3ct3dd · 5 months

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000. KINGSTON ・✫・゜

the day that i met you i started dreaming

warnings: mentions of death, cursing

content: meeting ellie for the first time :33

authors note: sorry i made you guys wait so longggg!!! hope this isn’t absolute trash lol 😇 also reader and ellie are like, 7 in this part 🤞🏽

masterlist. next chapter.

blue was the color of the pool on the day we met.

water perfectly chilled, sending a jolt up my leg when i stepped into it.

jesus, why is it so cold?

i decided against just standing there, letting the water turn me into a human popsicle, and i jumped in.

i dove under the water, and i felt goosebumps all over my skin. after swimming around a bit, the cold was a lot less jolting, and i saw a slightly blurry head of auburn hair swimming around the deep end. doing flips, handstands, and rarely staying above the water for more than 5 seconds to catch their breath.

dad told me that his friends kid was here. is that her?

green was the color of the goggles you had on when i saw you for the first time.

you had pulled them over your head, messing up your bangs that were stuck to your forehead in the process. you dipped them under the pool water, un-fogging them, and you looked over at me.

woah.

i waved at you, and you disappeared again, under the light blue. geez, thats one way to say you don’t wanna talk.

moments later, that same auburn head was sticking out of the water, in front of me now, pulling off her goggles.

“hi.” you greeted, smiling up at me. the sun hit your green eyes perfectly, making you slightly squint.

“hey.” i greeted back, returning the same smile.

you had moved next to me on the steps where i sat, plopping down on the step right below me.

i spent a little too long staring, but how could i help it? your face was littered with freckles, falling down to the top of your neck where your swim shirt started. there was a few red lines on top of your eyebrows, probably from your goggles. and of course, your hair. long reddish-brown locks tied into a messy ponytail, with side parted bangs that stuck to your forehead.

i was so focused on looking at you, i didn’t even realize you were looking at me. curls separated into two braids, resting on my chest, with a light pink one piece, and a deep tan.

“pretty.” you mumbled under your breath.

i definitely heard, but i decided to humor you.

“what didya say?” i questioned, tilting my head.

you shook yourself out of your daze, blinking dramatically. “huh?- i didn’t say anything.” you were quick to defend, shaking your head.

i gave a calm “hm” in response, shrugging and resting my forearms on my knees.

“so….d’you live here?” you asked, turning yourself to face me.

“nuh uh. my nana does, she’s right over there.”

i pointed to her, comfortably sat in her chair with a canned margarita.

you gave me a small nod, following where my finger led with your eyes.

“i don’t live here either, my dad got his dads house here when he died. we just come here to swim.” you explained, sloshing water around in front of you.

my eyes widened at the suddenness of the comment, but i replied almost instantly.

“sorry your grandpa died. thats sad.” i attempted to comfort.

“meh, i never met him.” you shrugged, continuing making waves with your hands.

we sat in silence for a while, unsure of what to say next. it wasn’t awkward, surprisingly, it was just…silence. the quiet splashing of pool water and the chatter of the old ladies in their chairs was the only thing that filled our ears.

i started staring back down at you, only really seeing the top of your head. the sun shined on your hair, making the red in it even more noticeable. for some reason, its all i wanted to look at.

“did you dye your hair? how is it….” i twirled a loose strand around my finger, moving next to you on the pool steps.

“how is it what?” you replied, letting out a small giggle.

“its like, red, but pretty red. i have a friend whos a ‘red head’ , but her hairs like , carrot orange.” i answered, still toying with it.

red was the color your cheeks turned at my accidental compliment.

pretty red. she thinks my hair is pretty.

“hey, whats wrong with orange?” you questioned yet again, staring at me.

“its a nice color sometimes, but not for hair. and , its not even red??? its orange! why are they called red heads?”

“isn’t orange just red with white in it?”

“so what? that doesn’t mean its red. if anything, you’re a red head. your hair is literally dark red. and its not ugly pumpkin color.”

“you really care about peoples hair.” you stated, letting out a giggle.

“people always say that they see peoples teeth first when they meet them, but thats a bunch of crap. i see their hair.” i rolled my eyes, moving a piece of hair behind my ear.

“i definitely see if someones bald before i care about their teeth.” you agreed, still laughing.

“exactly! like i don’t even know what your teeth look like. i just saw you, and i was like ‘wow. she has pretty hair.’”

“you think my hair is that nice?” you asked, toying with the ends of it.

“no, i actually think your hair looks like a giant pile of shit.” i sarcastically quipped, chuckling at myself.

“oh yeah?” and before you could even finish enunciating your sentence, i was falling off the stairs, into the cold water.

“hey! i didn’t even have my goggles on, you dick!” i yelled, wiping the water out of my eyes.

“language!” my dad yelled from his chair, seated next to yours.

i rolled my eyes at him, and moved to pull you in with me.

you fell under, just as unceremoniously as i did, and we both burst into laughter.

when we finally calmed down, i looked over at you.

“wait, what’s your name?”

taglist: @astroph1les @zeniqk @macaroni676 @mina-281 @sawaagyapong @brunettedolls-blog @horror-whoree @elliewilliamsmunch @ellies2fingers @valdez-ayla4499 @claymoreshaze @dollietes @heartrobynn @uraesthete @bellaramslover @amitycat @matchamilkislover @atomicami @certifedcrybunny @perfect-little-thing @elsmissingfingers @mostlyhornyandsad @nil-eena @koloz @doepretty @idkwhattoput888 @guavasbizarre @louleele @graviewaviee @bl1ndsp0t @elliewilliamsgf69 @elleatethat @strawbn1ng @jvstellies @thereasonurgay @crystalsnothere @misosoupupup @greencacty @every1oneluvsriley @endureher @michel-angelo @nickiminaj689 @bratydoll @sc0ttstre3ted @fr3sh-tragedies @bearieio @sluttyletty @dinoastronaut @sapphicsstars (sorry if i couldn’t add you, i ran out of mentions 😪)

#🍔infrunami #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fic

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kairiscorner · 10 months

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he survived your grumpiness in the morning, now you survive his <33

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

grumpy noir x sunshine reader

peter came home from a long day. he was late to work, coffee spilled all over his cleanest and only button-down of the week because he forgot to do the laundry and would have to get right to it the minute he came home, his boss barked orders at him like he was some errand boy, which he pretty much was, given how little he was respected there--and all his photos for the paper were either blurry, uninteresting, or just flat out crappy.

it really was not peter's day today, not in the slightest. and to top it all off, on his commute home, he missed the last train for the day because his boss kept him at work, berating him for his poor performance, and of course, laughing in his face about it when he noticed his eyes were welling up with tears at the amount of horrible things shaping up his equally horrible day. oh, and it rained cats and dogs on the way home, what luck.

the time peter came home, he was about as sullen as the gray, monochrome rainy sky. he wrung out his sopping wet coat out from the veranda and threw it on the coat hanger, which toppled and fell over to its side. frustrated, peter grumbled to put it back in place. he slumped down on his sofa, trying to light his cigarette. "please, for my sake universe, give me this one good thing and let me light my damn cig." he muttered to himself angrily as he kept clicking on the mechanism of the lighter. it absolutely refused to light, only giving tiny sparks as peter kept pushing down on the mechanism.

he inevitably gave up and sank further into his sofa, angry at... everything, really. he hardly got this way, but seeing as how nothing went his way today at all, could he really be blamed? he closed his eyes as he leaned against the sofa's back, trying to sleep it off, but that simple pleasure couldn't even be granted to him.

the doorbell rang, and peter swore under his breath as he stumbled up to go get it. he opened the door, and, to his surprise... you were there. you grinned at him, all sweetly and brightly, your eyes looking up into his own, which reflected the murkiness of today's weather--sullen and melancholic as nothing, not a single thing, was right about today.

"good evening, pete." you greeted him in a chipper voice. peter looked at you nonchalantly. "oh, um, yeah. good evening." he greeted back, with emphasis on the "good" part, which that day was everything but that very word.

"how're you... oh." you began, but soon trailed off when you noticed how he was dripping wet, completely drenched in rain water from top to bottom as he opened the door a little more. "peter, you're soaking wet!" you pointed out, to which peter placed a hand on his forehead and nodded. "i couldn't catch the train, missed the last one, so had to walk home. and... yeah, the rain caught me as i was heading home, and..." he narrated his horrid day.

you looked at him with a concerned expression, feeling extremely bad for him. "oh, pete, i'm real sorry to hear that." you told him as you sympathized with the poor man. "as much as i'd like to say i appreciate that sympathy, i can't really put with void apologies when it isn't even your fault, now." he said in a rather cold tone, signifying he didn't want to talk about it nor have you pity his situation right then and there.

you nodded. "i understand." you tell him as you gaze into his frustrated eyes. "i don't need you to, but thanks anyway." he said as he was about to close the door on you, but you held it open by putting yourself in between, your hand holding the door open. "pete... can i come in?" you ask him, which perplexed him a little. why would you want to enter his home after he made it perfectly clear he just wanted to be alone for the time being.

you sympathetically grinned up at him. "please?" you gave him those irresistible doe eyes he found so endearing, those eyes that always worked on him whenever you needed him to do something for you.

he sighed in frustration and nodded slowly. "fine, just... don't cause too much of a mess while you're here." he said as he slumped back down on the couch.

you sighed as peter didn't change out of his sopping wet clothes. you took off your coat and handed it to peter. "it's your own house, so... i suppose you wouldn't be too embarrassed to change out of those wet clothes for something warm and dry?" you asked him in a concerned voice as he looked up at you and the coat in your hands.

you chuckled. "don't worry, it's quite porous, it'll keep you warm and stay dry." you beamed as your lips curved into a small smile for him. "i... okay. thank you." he said as he gently took the coat from you and began to change when you walked off.

"have you eaten yet, pete?" you asked him as you looked around his place. he shook his head. "can't bring myself to cook right now, let alone enter the kitchen. might burn down the house without aunt may here." he muttered, to which you found yourself giggling at. "what's so funny?" he asked, confused, as he turned his head to look at you.

you shook your head as you kept smiling. "nothing, that is true, though. ms. parker did say to keep you out of the kitchen, you're lucky i'm always here to look after you, peter." you beamed as you headed into the kitchen as you rolled up your sleeves. "you hungry?" you asked him.

he took a few seconds to respond, until he finally spoke up. "yeah, um, i'm kinda hungry, now that i think about it." he sounded like he calmed down after his frustration overtook him earlier. "alright, just wait right there pete, i'm on the way." you declared as you readied ingredients to whip him up something nice.

soon after, peter was presented with a steaming hot dinner, prepared by you. you smiled as you readied up the table for him, as well. he felt a little embarrassed at how a guest, who he initially refused and showed him nothing but sympathy for his frustration, no matter how much he didn't want to talk about it, readied his table and fed him food in his own home.

"you... didn't have to do this, really." he said in a low voice, which came out as a sort of grumble, but you knew he meant to thank you. "come on now, peter. i could tell you weren't feeling at your best right now. i just want you to enjoy at least one small thing from today, even if it won't last forever." you told him as you sat across him from the table and gave him a small chuckle as he blew on his food, looking up at you, too.

"you made my favorites?" he asked in subtle disbelief. you nodded with a grin. "nothing beats having your favorites after a not-so good day. if you want, i'd make you your favorites forever, if you'd like, and offer you my coat when you're stuck in the rain. i'd even listen to you grumble and gripe about all the crappy stuff that's happened to you, even if you're... going to be angry at me for wanting to sympathize." you said with a small laugh as peter hung his head.

"sorry i've been so cranky and out of it today, really, i just... nothing went my way today." he admitted, very ashamed of his own behavior, he knew better than to treat you that way, but he did what he did. you reached for his hand from across the table. "peter, i understand. really, i do. your emotions are valid, never let anyone, not even yourself, tell you not to feel what you're feeling. i'd love you even if you perpetually had a storm cloud over your head and a unibrow from frowning all day and night." you said earnestly as peter blushed slightly at your words.

he adjusted his glasses on his face as he cleared his throat. "um... thank you. again. i really, really appreciate it. i... i appreciate you." he said as you giggled at his flustered self. "don't mention it, pete. i can come by tomorrow and tend to you, even if you'll be doubly cranky then!" you joked, but were serious about wanting to come by tomorrow.

"ah... yes, please. i'll try to keep my crankiness to a minimum. but i doubt it'll linger any longer if you're here." he said with a smile, the first smile that ever cracked on his face ever since the day started. it ended with you and him, smiling and laughing, forgetting the horrible day he had at the beginning, only to relish this lovely evening you two shared.

a/n: I'M SORRY IF IT SUCKS BTW, I'M MAKING THIS WHILE TIRED BECDBEIBCIUEBCIFRBIVBR

#spider noir #spider noir fluff #spider noir x y/n #spider noir x reader #spider noir x you #itsv #itsv noir #itsv x you #itsv x reader

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uchihagods · 1 year

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(very) kinky!obito drabble under the cut <33 tw: mommy kink, breastfeeding, lactation kink, teasing, breasts appreciation, crying.

—,,

IMPORTANT!… please, feel free to ignore if any of these topics trigger you; read at your own risk!

IMAGINE… obito’s obsession towards your tender breasts notably increasing once he gets you pregnant.

if the dark-haired already loved them because of their rounded form, their softness, and, above all, how well they fit in his big hand —just as if they were meant for him and him only— while squeezing them very slightly, he’d go crazy about their changes throughout your pregnancy.

obito would be mesmerized by how full they seemed now, almost drooling over his chin at the sight of your swollen nipples all prepared to breastfeed your newborn baby, who was sleeping comfortably on her tiny little crib inside her pinky room.

he couldn’t help but to wonder; did it hurt? did the fact that your boobs were bigger bother you in the slightest? would you let him help you to feel better by sucking…?

“are you doing alright there, big boy?” you joked, catching him off guard. not that you didn’t notice, though. it was kinda obvious that his gaze was completely glued to your clothed chest for several minutes. “you’re staring.” you clarified when you figured you wouldn’t be getting a response soon enough.

he scratched his head, “r-really?”

“is there something that you want?”

you brought your arms together on purpose, causing your boobs to look even bigger inside your special bra and also hissing quietly since they were very sensitive.

“do they hurt?” obito whispered without taking his eyes off your juicy chest. he’s heard the small whine that left your puffy mouth, the one you thought it was barely noticeable.

“they do…” you confessed. “a little, yeah.”

obito approached your spot on the large sofa, somewhat hypnotized. with caution, he raised his hands towards the straps of your bra to slip them down your shoulders. once they were out of the way, he moaned at the forming wetness in the fabric just above your nipples.

after a second to recompose himself —more precisely, to prevent his blood going downwards—, the dark-haired got rid of it to reveal your dripping breasts.

“shit,” he cursed. “they’re…” he cut himself off, not quite believing the amazing view in front of him.

your mounds were completely stuffed with tasty milk your body nicely created that some of it was slipping down your tummy; your nubs were all perky as if they were waiting for someone to suck them hard ‘till they became empty again.

“h-hey…” obito complained with a tiny pout the moment you moved your nipple away from his eager mouth. “p-please. let me help you, my love.” he looked up at you, trying to reach for your bud but miserably failing in the attempt. “y/n, d-don’t…” his voice came out broken, feeling his eyes tearing up.

“a-are you crying?” you wondered aloud, surprised at his reaction. nevertheless, you kept teasing him. “seriously, obito?”

he blinked repeatedly to get rid of the blurry vision, sensing his cheeks getting wetter. “give them to me… let me taste your sweet milk, i’m b-begging you.” he sniffed through his runny nose.

you sighed tenderly, wiping his tears off with your thumbs before gripping his hair and guide his mouth towards your awaiting nipple. “there, there.” you calmed him down, giggling at his eagerness to suck your milk out.

obito gasped contently, resting his head on your collar bone and closing his eyelids as he drank from you at a slow pace. every now and then, his tongue worked around your areola to later come back and continue extracting the delicious fluid.

“not so hard, ‘bito.” you pleaded when you felt his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin. “babies aren’t supposed to have teeth yet…” instinctively, he moved his hips forward at your words.

if the way his lips were latched at your mound to life was something to go by, you were sure he won’t be leaving your softness anytime soon; or at least ‘till he emptied you completely. you decided to make yourself comfortable on the sofa as you waited for him.

you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t enjoying this just as much, the relief he was providing you between soft sucks was perfect to ease the pain in your breasts, which was becoming unbearable at this point.

you were brought back to reality; a present where the swallowing sounds from obito’s throat got stronger. you stroked his black strands between your fingers, noticing his still closed eyes. “is my baby hungry?”

obito nodded slowly, taking care not to waste a single drop of your tasty milk. “more.” he pleaded quietly, enclosing his hand on your now-emptied breast.

“are you done with this one, baby boy?” you caressed his relaxed face. he burped lightly, feeling overwhelmed.

“mhm…” he hummed sleepily, licking the remaining fluid on his puffy lips. “give me more of your creamy milk, mommy.”

you whimpered. “jeez, obito…” you offered him your other perky nub, though. “such a big baby.” he latched onto it rapidly, making circles around it while he pumped more of your milk out with steady breaths.

you noticed his suckling slowed down as time went by, his lips partially loosened their grip around your breast and his tongue stopped its movements. his eyes were now closed for real, driving him into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had and with his mouth enclosing his favorite source of tasty food.

—

#kha’s.drabbles #obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito x you #obito smut #naruto x reader #naruto fanfiction #naruto smut #naruto headcanons

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loveforeren · 9 months

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Hey lovely! Recently got into your work and it's also nice to see another fellow black girl who loves Miguel 🧘🏾‍♀️ Was wondering if you could do a Lifeguard Miguel x black!fem!reader and he saves the reader after she is swept out by the current and she develops a fear of the sea, but still visits the beach every weekend, secretly because she thinks Miggy is hot and Miggy himself has been watching her for the past few weeks. He goes to her one day as she stares out into the sea nervously, wanting to go back in but being too afraid and Miggy offers to help her get over her fear again, helping her get back into the water and growing closer at the same time? ;)

Hey Anon, I thought this was so cute omg. Here you goooo <33 (I'll probably come back in here to edit some things)

Pairing: Lifeguard!Miguel x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your friends were playing in the water and wrong place wrong time. The current swept you and you were saved by a very...tall and handsome lifeguard.

Content Warning: Hobie playing too damn much, fear of the sea/ocean (I'm pretty sure it's called thalassophobia), Not proofread, SFW, fluff.

You were at the beach with Hobie, Gwen, Peter, Miles, Pav, and a few other friends. You knew Miles and the others because you were the big sister of his friend, and you thought of him like a little brother. He invited you to the beach with him, and his friends.

"Come in the water, Y/N!" Miles yelled.

You were sitting on a beach towel letting the sun hit your skin. You shook your head. You always had a weird unsettling feeling about the ocean. So you usually didn't play in the ocean.

"Come on love~! Don't be a pussy!" Hobie yelled.

You rolled your eyes. He always messed with you like this. He thought he was so funny. You close your eyes and try to lie in the sun again. That was until you felt a pair of strong wet arms pick you up. It was Hobie, and he threw you over his shoulder.

"Hobie! Put me down now!" You tried to squirm your way out of his grip.

"No can do~ you can't be the only one to not get in the ocean, mate!" He laugh.

You whined. He walked into the water and set you down.

"See was that so bad?" He said

You roll your eyes before getting splashed with water. You groaned and looked at Pav who had a grin on his face. You had just got your hair done, and your hair was ruined now.

"Pav!" You yelled, leaping after him and playfully pushing him into the water.

Everything was fine, and you were playing with everyone. Your fears about the ocean started to wash away..until.

You had been running farther and farther away from shore. You and the others were having the classic water-splashing fight. You were all laughing until you heard them all yelling and pointing.

"Y/N! Watch out!" They all screamed.

But it was too late. You turned to see a huge..no monstrous wave coming your way, and it swept you under. You panicked as the current from the water pulled you farther and farther from shore. Your body flailed as the waves kept going over your head. You were yelling for help at first but couldn't anymore. You thought it was all over. You'd seen all over those stories of people drowning at sea. You thought that was going to be you until a pair of strong arms grabbed you. You were just barely conscious, and you were so scared your eyes were blurry. You felt whoever saved you swim to the shore and set you down away from the sea.

"Dios mío, Are you okay?" He asked patting your back as you coughed up water.

You coughed and coughed before looking up at your savior. It was a 6'9 extremely buff guy with brown eyes with the slightest hint of red.

"I..I" you didn't know what to say.

Your body was shaking as all your friends came over to check on you. You were still shocked. So he picked your up bridal style.

"I'm going to get someone to take over my turn so I can get her to the clinic over there." He said.

You simply cling to him. You don't why but being in his arms was comforting. He walks into the clinic and sets you on the bed. The nurse wasn't there, but luckily he knew what to do.

"..That must've scared you..." he trails off realizing he doesn't know your name.

"...Y/N..my name is Y/N" you mumbled to him.

"Well Y/N, I'm glad I got to you on time. I'm Miguel." He said as he continued to check on you.

You stare at him and quietly obliged to whatever he told you to do. After he checked everything he needed to him crouch down to your level.

"You're okay now." He said with a small smile.

You nod and come out of the room after he tells you, you can go. You immediately saw all your friends perk up and run over to you engulfing you in a hug.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" They all asked.

"I'm...okay" you nod.

Even though you had almost drowned moments ago. The only thing on your mind was that lifeguard...Miguel. Your mind raced with him.

Miguel was feeling the same way you were. He felt wrong for the way he was thinking about you...about your body. He couldn't help it. You were so beautiful, and exactly what he was attracted to.

The next weekend passed, and you agreed to come back to the beach on the condition that you stayed nowhere near the water. So you were far from the water laying in the sand. You were just staring out into space when you noticed him. He was shirtless, and the sun complimented his body so well. Your jaw dropped, and you just stared. That was until he came to you.

"Ah..Y/N, how are doing? Better than last week i presume?" He asked.

"Mhm! I'm doing better thank you for asking," you said with a small grin.

That marked the first time you and Miguel would talk and you weren't in a dangerous situation moments before. For the next couple of weekends, you'd agree to go to the beach (staying away from the water of course). When you went Miguel miraculously would show up, and you two would make small talk as your friends played in the water.

It had been about 4 weeks of that small talk, and 'random' Miguel pop-ups. You and Miguel had gotten closer. You and he exchanged numbers and would talk from time to time. When Miguel spotted you as always. This time he saw you staring at the water. Your chest rising and falling at an uneven pace. Your eyes wavering every time a wave came up. As much as he hated to admit it even like this you looked as amazing as always. If he was being honest he had a shift at the beach every other weekend but he'd show up just to see you. He couldn't miss the chance to see you. That beautiful melanated skin that seems to sparkle in the sunlight. Those alluring plump lips that were glazed with lip gloss. Everything about you attracted him.

"Hi, Cariño. Are you okay?" He asks sitting next to you.

"Yea..im..okay" you mumbled still staring straight into the water.

The water looked terrifying all you could remember was that helpless feeling. Your body is being dragged underwater, and your vision getting blurry. Your body trembled at the memory. You didn't snap out of it until you felt a large hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N~" Miguel said for what seemed to be the the 30th time.

"..Ah! Sorry..Hi Miguel" you said turning your attention to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"...I...no..I keep remembering that time. I just..I'm scared." You murmured.

"Do you want me to help you get over your fear?" He questioned.

"Help me?" Your head tilted.

"Yes, I'll help you get in the water again. If we're being honest...I didn't have work this week...or the weekend before last weekend. I just wanted to see you." He said flashing a small nervous smile.

"Aww~ you want to see me that bad~" you teased.

"...Yes." he said.

Since that day Miguel said he'd help you. You and he would meet up on the weekends he didn't have work.

Week 1 of "getting over Y/N's fear"

"Since you can't get in yet you just sit near it." He stated.

Your body trembled so he put his hand on your shoulder.

"Nothing will happen to you. I promise." He comforted you.

You nod and put your stuff by the water to where the water washed up and would hit your feet.

Week 2 of "get over Y/N's fear"

"Okay, this time we're going to try to sit on your shore. Can you do that?" He asked in a soft tone.

You look at the water, and a shiver went down your spine.

"..I dunno Miguel." You said voice wavering.

You felt his hand grab yours, and you looked over to him.

"...maybe this will help you feel better..." he said.

You nod and this time he sits you on the shore with him and the water splashes up on your lower body as you sat down. Your body was trembling slightly. That memory of you thrashing in the water was almost burned into your brain.

You feel Miguel wrap his arm over your waist. You look at him and he rambled about it being to comfort you.

Week 3 of "get over Y/N's fear"

Now that you could go to the shore and let the water hit you. Miguel thought maybe you should get used to playing around the water. He told you to bring some friends so you could play games with them.

"You've been talking to that lifeguard ever since...?" Miles asked he threw the Frisbee.

You nod, and Hobie smirks.

"...you like him," Hobie stated blankly.

You glare and began to chase him. Miguel had no idea what you were chasing Hobie foe but he was glad your mind was off the water.

Week 4 of "get over Y/N's fear"

For 4 weeks Miguel has been helping you however he could. This time he said he wanted to take you in the water. He said you could hold on to him so you wouldn't me as scared.

He brought you to the shore like he usually would and went farther in. The moment the water reached your thigh your legs wrapped around Miguel's waist. He held you tightly as you clung on to him with your eyes closed.

"Hermosa, open your eyes." He said softly.

You were terrified but you decided to trust him. Your eyes creaked open slowly, and you saw the blue water surrounding you. You didn't tremble as much due to Miguel being there.

"Let's do something to take your mind off of the water. Let's get to know each other more." He said with a soft smile. Totally wasn't his attempt to flirt with you

"Okay.." you nod.

And for about 15 minutes you and him exchanged answers and would answer them. You laughed at Miguel who threw in jokes from time to time. You had forgotten all about the water until some splashed and hit you and Miguel.

"Ah! I forgot we were even in the fuckin' water" you said with a small laugh.

"That means my method is working," Miguel said.

Week 5 of "get over Y/N's fear"

Miguel decided to give you a break. So you and him threw the Frisbee back and forth as you told embarassing stories from you childhood.

"Really?!" You laughed.

Miguel chuckled and confirmed whatever wild story he told you. You and him were playing until something exciting happened. He threw the Frisbee a little too high, and you were running backwards to get it. You jumped back and caught it. Little did you realize you were in the water.

"I caught it-" You were yelling them trailed off. You felt your hair dripping and that's when you realized you were in the water.

You didn't feel your body tremble you didn't feel any more fear than a normal person would. You flashed a smile at Miguel.

"AH! I'm not scared anymore." You yelled as Miguel's eyes widen.

You saw him grin and run to you picking you up and embracing you.

"See! I told you, Mami." He said with a grin.

It was only a few seconds into the embrace. When you realized you were in the air, and your legs were wrapped around his waist. You lean back and stare at him. His reddish-brown eyes shining in the sun. You don't know what happened after that. All you know is your lips connected as he pulled you into a soft yet passionate kiss. You grin after you both pull away.

"...Do you wanna go on a date with me sometime?" He asked flashing a toothy but nervous grin.

"Sure..." you smile.

When you went home, to say you were excited was a understatement. Instead of getting of your fear of the water which wasn't really a fear anymore. You were going on a date with Miguel. Could that weekend get any better.

Miguel <33

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, Hermosa."

A/N ➳❥ I dunno if I like how this came out...but I hope you enjoy love. If you want a pt.2 I can always write it. And yall don't be shy send request and shii.

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deathbxnny · 9 months

Note

angst hshavjsbsjs

Ykyk that one yanqing with mara struck reader? Let's make it worse. This time, Yanqing sees the reader a tad bit late, like they're already gone- mara-struck monster and all. Then YQ and R fight and then YQ dies and JY had to put down R himself 💀💀

I'm sorry my bro

-----♡

A/N: Hello there Anon! Sorry the request took so long... I'm super busy at the moment. So I hope this is somewhat coherent and okay for you! Thank you for the request and patience!<33

Content: Angst, hurt/no comfort, character death, reader dies, Yanqing suffering even worse, mentions of fatal injuries/blood

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

This wasn't supposed to happen. He shouldn't have gotten angry at you that day. He shouldn't have argued and yelled, making you run away to cool off. He just should've talked it out with you... and now, he was about to lose you forever. He panted, every breath sending a sharp sting through his lungs, as he clutched his side. His legs were shaking, his vision blurry, words coming out in an incoherent mess. He was trying to tell you to calm down. To please come back to him.

It was too late, however, as you tried swiping your sharp claws at him relentlessly, your body twisted and turned into a horrific abomination of a Mara-struck monster. But it was still you. It was always just you. Nothing he said or did mattered anymore to your empty mind either, your only focus was on killing your enemy. Your dear lover. He should've been there. He shouldn't have let you go. He should've been Mara-struck instead.

You had injured him horribly already at that point and so there was no escape from your finishing move. It was your signature one, Yanqing realised with a weak smile. A part of you was still in there, scrambled beyond recognition yes, but still there. It made him feel at peace, although he also accepted this as his punishment. His hand covered yours, as you drove the blade deeper into his chest, until he simply let go. Only then did you retract your blade and carelessly step over him to beat your next enemy.

Jing Yuan's face was unreadable, his eyes watching the blood pool around the boy he had raised for so many years. It reached his shoes, drenching the leather crimson. He thought that he was used to this sight, until it was his own son laying dead before him. And his heart broke not only for him, but also for you. You were stumbling towards him, clumsy and somehow focused at the same time. It was a pitiful sight, one that the man would forever have etched in his mind.

"I'm sorry. To the both of you." Jing Yuan could only say, his voice somehow still steady, when his mind and heart were crumbling. You attacked him then and all he did was stare at you, as he simply beheaded you, closing his eyes when the leaves hit his form and your body instantly dropped next to Yanqing's.

The silence after was deafening.

-----♡

A/N: Alright, I hope this was okay! Thank you again for the request and I'm sorry it took so long!<3

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #yanqing x reader #hsr yanqing x reader #hsr #freemymanyanqing

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sugxrslushy · 2 years

Text

ᴅᴀʏ ᴠɪ || ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

🩸ᴀ/ɴ: requested by @riseofdraven <33 always lots of fun to write Cora, I hope you enjoy!!

🩸ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ: NSFW MINORS DNI//Corazon x fem!reader//warnings: overstimulation, praise, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving)

Corazon always found himself most content around you. Whether it was simple and mundane things such as taking a nap together, sprawled out in the bed and tangled in each other’s embraces, or navigating the kitchen together with a new recipe, flour spilled and too many dropped pans but you both were laughing too hard to care all that much. He was always so happy around, content to the full.

He was especially content when he was settled between your legs, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you and he’d barely even started to use his mouth. Deft fingers pumped in and out of your wet core, thrusting into the slick mess your pussy was, becoming messier with every shuddering orgasm he pulled out of you.

You thanked the heavens for his devil fruit, your throat already raw from the cries you couldn’t contain and Corazon didn’t seem like he was doing much better, rambling on about his love for you and showering you with praise. He’d been talking ever since he’d caught an eyeful of your bare form, it was like a flood gate had been opened and it was all he could talk about.

“I love listening to you cry for me, so pretty.” He places light kisses up your trembling thigh, rubbing soothing circles in your skin to calm you down from another orgasm. Your breaths were shuddering in your lungs and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes but Corazon’s sappy words were an anchor pulling you back down to earth. “Just listen to my voice love, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

You jolt sharply when his lips press a kiss to your clit, oversensitive and aching from his incessant touches. “I’ve got you darling.” His scarred hands grip at your thighs, prying them back open so he could wiggle his way back in between them. Dark eyes peered up at you with a glimmering look of absolute adoration in his irises. “Can I make you cum again? You look so pretty each time I just can’t resist it.” He kisses your thighs, alternating between the two and leaving dark lipstick marks as he waits for an answer.

Taking in a shaky breath, you reply with a stuttered “yes” and it’s all he needs before his mouth is on you. It’s so gentle at first, tiny licks at your clit just to test how you react. You tense up, oversensitive and overstimulated but it’s exactly what he wants. He’s drinking up your loud whines and how your body keeps jolting at his touch, wrapping his arms around your thighs tighter to drag you against his mouth.

“Cora!” You shriek when he licks a broad stripe up your cunt, savoring the taste of your juices on his tongue then diving back in for more. Your body is confused between choosing to push him away or pull him in, legs wrapping tight around but your hands are clawing at the sheets. The pleasure is making your vision blurry.

“You always taste so delicious.” He pants open mouthed against your cunt, juices smeared across his face and messing up his carefully applied makeup but your abdomen stirred at the sight. His fingers prod gently at your entrance, slipping in and aided by your slickness. You wanted him to split you open on his cock but he adored taking his time with you, every little second was savored by him.

“Mmf, want to taste you.” You moan out, muffled by your drool covered pillow. You wanted to make him feel the same way he was making you feel, and a break from the constant mind numbing pleasure sounded nice.

A blush spreads across his face as he peeks up at you from between his legs, eyes sparkling with that familiar look. “I’m not done with you yet.” He laughs and is on you once again, licking and sucking at your clit with fever and the uncontrollable shaking of your body is back.

You feel like you’re balancing on a tightrope between pain and pleasure, the stimulation on your clit too much but also not enough at the same time. Your eyes roll but when you feel the familiar build up forming in your gut, squirming and tensing up more and more by the second. His fingers are pumping in and out of you faster, the slick and obscene sound filling the little bubble as you moan just as loud.

Your toes curl and you tear at the sheets, Corazon’s tongue joining his fingers to circle your clit then his red painted lips wrap around the little button to suck and your vision goes white. The orgasm is hot in your veins, making the shakes vibrate through your whole body and you want to curl up on the bed. Tears are rolling down your face and you hiccup out little moans.

His eyes are wide, gleaming, as he stares at you open mouthed. The look is back in his eye, silently begging for more and you knew you would never be one to deny it. His fingers start up again, a gentle push and pull building up more and more as he searches for another orgasm from you.

Insatiable. He was insatiable.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fic #[🦇].witching hour #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader #corazon x you #corazon x y/n

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skzoologist · 5 months

Note

I just woke up, Hello

My vision is failing me ngl, for some reason whenever I wake up my vision gets so goddamn blurry, I can't read

The ghost fic made me cry, so beautiful

The ghost anon is so sweet wth

OH and since you erased the 1 request for 1 person thing, I would like to request

"No! I want cuddles now!" 🧋☕ focused more on Bae, 3Racha

Go ham with it

P.S I saw that -6°C was nearly freezing? Is where you guys live that warm? Cuz here the lowest is like -33°C and highest is like -9°C so far

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: none

genre: fluff, crack

a/n: Hey-ho 🐿️ anonnie! I hope your vision got better soon afterwards, it sounds worrying 😨 And I'm sorry my ghost!Bae fic made you cry, I hope this one will cheer you back up! Made it extra fluffy, for you. I accidentally went ham with it, I did not mean to write this much lol 💀 Also where I live it's I guess relatively warm? It's kinda rare for it to snow here properly (and not just have sludge and ice all over the place), which is why I'm so happy it snowed a few days ago, even if only a few centimeters. Your place is waaaaay colder, so stay bundled up and cosy! 😊

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

The powerful beats of their latest title track flowed through his body, his heart beating to that same, exhilarating rhythm. He knew the song from the top of his head already, having danced to it countless times, and yet, once the inevitable silence crept in, he restarted the cycle all over again, no matter how much his clothes and hair clinged to his sweaty skin.

Then suddenly the music cut off midway, a frustrated sigh left in its place amidst the dancer’s confusion.

“Bae, how many times have we talked about this? You’ve already perfected the choreography, you NEED to rest now.” - it was Minho, a disapproving scowl sitting on his sharp features.

Bae simply watched his hyung, heaving for air, wondering how the man got there in the first place. A quick glance at the now open door gave him all the answers he needed, knowing fully well that he was probably too absorbed in his own practice to even hear the sound of the door opening. Wouldn’t have been the first time, after all.

“I’m talking to a wall, I swear to god. Bae. If I see you in this room one. More. Time. I’m chucking you into the air fryer next to Hyunjin. Don’t look at me like that. Now go.” - the angry cat ushered him out, gathering all of the otter’s belongings and shoving them into his arms.

Bae obediently let himself be pushed out of the door, a click immediately resounding in the air.

He was locked out, that much was obvious.

Of course he knew not to push Minho’s buttons anymore, a miracle in itself that he was let off only with a simple warning. He’d already experienced the man’s wrath once before and it was not fun at all. Just the mere thought brought a shiver up his spine, never wanting to experience that ever again. Even if it was all for his own good, he would rather avoid a repeat of what’d happened.

Sighing, Bae trudged towards the locker room, the thought of a quick shower and fresh clothes soothing his mind.

Although that calmness disappeared the moment he checked his phone afterwards, the device filled with messages from Chan. There wasn’t a lot, not nearly enough to make him think something terrible had happened, but their contents were unusual, requesting him to drop by the studio. It had happened before, sure, but not often enough for it to be considered normal. The three idols preferred to work alone, their synergy so perfect, anyone else’s presence was a mere bother.

Confused, but not having anything else to do, Bae messaged his leader back and started his ascent to the seeked-after room. It took a bit of time; the hallways were packed, and so was the elevator, the rush hour inside the company hitting the idol full force. He politely bowed his head in greeting towards staff and other idols, some looking at him with a smile, some too busy and instead looking like they were about to collapse right then and there. It caused a worried crease to form in his forehead, but there was nothing he could do, sadly.

Having made his way to where he was needed, Bae let himself into the room, only after a soft knock and a quiet ‘Come in’ could be heard.

There sat Chan, Changbin and Jisung, all in comfy hoodies, bundled up and hunched over the table, way too entranced to even look away from the monitors fully.

Only after Bae closed the door and plopped onto the couch did Chan shake himself out of this trance, headphones now fully slid off and hanging around his neck. A lopsided smile sat upon his face as their eyes met, only widening at Bae’s expression.

The other two joined the oldest soon, all eyes set on Bae and teasing smiles dancing on their lips. Bae didn’t know what warranted these expressions, simply confusedly tilting his head and causing soft giggling to be heard.

“So, I heard Minho kicked you out of the practice room.” - Chan gently whispered out amidst giggles, dimples fully on display. “Oh, so that’s why he looks like that!” “Jisung! Hey, it’s okay baby, don’t look so sad.” - Changbin said, his arms already guiding Bae’s head towards his chest in a soothing hug.

It was true that their tallest member was not happy about being kicked out, but the others’ reactions puzzled him greatly. He wasn’t devastated or anything, so what were they talking about?

Loud laughter grabbed his attention, the poorly breathing wolf soon joined by a quokka and a dwaekki. This only confused him more, a huff escaping his mouth as he crossed his arm, now free from Changbin’s hold, as the latter was too busy almost falling off the couch.

“I love it so much when you don’t realise you’re doing the puppy eyes. Hyung, you look like a kicked puppy!” - Jisung explained, making Bae’s eyes widen and cheeks dust over with pink. “Mh, our baby otter is so cute.” - Chan added in, watching in satisfaction as his victim’s skin only reddened. “YAH, you’re too cute, this is unfair!” - Changbin all but shouted, locking Bae into a tight hug and squeezing the air out of him.

Bae tried to wiggle out of the dwaekki’s arms, but the hold on him was way too strong for that. After realising this, he gave up, turning limp in the happily celebrating man’s clasp, essentially becoming his cuddle pillow.

Seeing this all, the two left out members started protesting, wanting their fair share of their shy member and his cuddles. Bae didn’t hesitate to take the chance when Changbin’s arms loosened around him amidst his own protests about wanting to keep the man for himself, quickly slipping out and away from all of them. This naturally gathered all their attention; their eyes watching him fiercely, as if he was their prey, ready to be hunted.

“Is this why you called me here?” - he sternly asked, a furrow in his brows and a slight scowl in his lips that wasn’t there out of true anger. “Yes and naur. Minho asked me to essentially lock you into the studio with us, so you cannot secretly overwork yourself. And hey, who am I to say no to some cuddles?” - Chan answered, that teasing smirk dancing on his lips that told Bae he was not joking around.

Before the cornered otter could dash towards the door, Jisung pounced on him, keeping him in place just long enough for the other two to drag him back onto the couch. A soft ‘Oomph’ sound left his lips as he collided with the bouncy material, unable to fight against the entire force of Gymracha alone.

He had to accept his fate, one that was filled with stiffening cuddles and teasing for an unforeseen amount of time.

A deep sigh left his lips as he’d done exactly that, relaxing in Chan’s hold as Jisung was hugging his legs and Changbin was playing with his fingers, arm tightly hugged into his chest. The couch was impossibly small to house all four of them, yet somehow they managed, all crammed into the tiny space.

The three seemed content to just stay like that, and seeing as Bae literally had no choice, he let them be, their warmth seeping into his clothes and skin, settling there in contentment. His muscles relaxed in a way he didn’t even know they needed to, a tension he’d never noticed leaving his body. The position he was trapped in felt safe, as if he had nothing to worry about in the entire world.

Maybe Minho was right, maybe he did need to rest for a bit, just a little bit.

But after an hour of it all, he was starting to overheat, the contact on his skin now too much, too warm.

“Shouldn’t you guys be working?” - he asked, hoping the answer would be yes, since all of them were workaholics to a certain degree. “No, I want cuddles now!” - Jisung shouted before anyone else could, flopping onto Bae’s front and burying his head into his clothed stomach.

Chan and Changbin only laughed at his misery, their answers probably similar to their younger members. Bae could only sigh for the umpteenth time, head gently plopping back against Chan’s shoulder.

“At least let me get my hoodie off.” “No.”

The afternoon seemed way too long in Bae’s eyes already, a fact that was only strengthened as time went on, even though there was an undeniable, gentle warmth that danced around in his eyes whenever he looked at the ones around him.

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restlesscrybaby · 1 year

Note

Heya! May I please request Jack cuddling with a rather restless reader who can't seem to fall asleep? Also, I love your works; you're an awesome writer. :)

GAAHH YESSS!! And tysmmmm!!

As someone with insomnia, this is probs my favorite topic for this <33

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ JACK HORNER AND RESTLESS!READER. ~

~ CUDDLING HEADCANONS. ~

~ 'Sweetheart, you look a little tired,' ~

�� CONTENT WARNING: None. ☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The moon was bright, tinged Grey, but you could wish it was blue, like they all do!

All, being, everyone asleep.

You laid beside your sleeping boyfriend, his snores loud enough to wake up the dead from their caskets and tell him to shut up.

You laid on your side, your back turned towards your lover. The arm on the side you laid on was lifted up only slightly, your elbow bent and your hand curled underneath the pillow. Your other lay, tiredly, among your side, draping down onto the bed. Your palm adding pressure, your wrist tensed only a tad to keep your hand steady against the white bedsheets that resided below you two.

You were covered with a large blanket, with fur along the inside, which was used to keep you two warm, for the night.

But you couldn't sleep.

Tossing.

And turning.

And huffing, puffing, clenching your eyes shut, scoffing,

Aggravation boiled off your skin like a bad rash...

All this tossing and turning woke up your lover, yet you hadn't noticed, you were too frustrated to notice.

He scowled, as his lips pursed. He used his palm, as he pushed the sleeping mask away from his eyes. His eyes wanted to stay shut, as he blinked back some blurry vision. He turned his head, as you let out a defeated sigh, now laying on your back. Your hands folded on your stomach, eyebags caving your eyes in, shadowing them out.

He ,, tiredly, put a hand on the top of your head, his palm embracing the very top of your head. You were surprised, more of frightened, by the sudden embrace. His thumb gently rubbed your head, kneading a gentle circle into the side of it.

"What's wrong..?" He questioned, his voice dropped by a husk tone, a yawn accompanying his words at the end of his sentence.

"... Just... Restless, I guess, Jackie, I don't know, somethings keeping me awake." You sighed out. You had been defeated by the force of some kind that made you be unable to sleep, made you stir in a bed that made you feel so at home.

"... Mmhm," He hummed out, you could tell how sleepy he was, his eyelids were draping shut upon themselves, "Come here," He spoke out after a moment.

Huh?

You paused for a moment, gears in your head churning as you scooted closer to him. His hand fell off your head, hitting the spot where you had originally rested your head.

You weren't too close to him, but that changed.

His hand placed itself along your upper arm, gently bringing you closer to him.

He was tired, he moved sluggishly, but he tried so hard..

You were up against him, as he yawned once more.

You thought he was finally asleep again, but you were mistaken. He patted his chest, with the palm of his free hand.

Wha--?

"Come here," He grumbled out, "Just lay on me, you can't be tired, lots todo-- tomorrow." He spoke, his words dipping towards a whisper st the end of his sentence.

Oh, uh..

Okay--..

You easily sat yourself upright, finding your way to lay on top of him. He had even moved the blanket out of your way. You rested your head against his chest, your body rested up against his tummy. The side of your face pressed into his large pecs, as you yawned now.

You felt a large arm curl around you. He held you in place, his arm against your lower back, curled fingers among your side hinted he was trying to hug onto you. His other arm extended out beside him, flexing out in a calming stretch, before he brought hisnpalm towards the top of your head. Three (3) gentle pats were placed atop of your hair, before he dropped his hand. His elbow bent, as he put his hand behind his head, under his pillow.

He spoke out some comforting nothings, yet. The sound of his tired voice seemed to make you tired. But whay made you more tired is the warm embrace. You extended out your arm, as you clasped onto the blanket you two had been sharing side by side. You tried to throw it over you, but it didn't work.

His hand that was behind his head had grabbed the edge of the warm sheet, as he tugged upon it. He pulled it to where it was up to your shoulders, yet he almost pulled it entirely over your body.

His hand fell, but he eased it towards the back of your head. A warm embrace of his palm seemed to, almost, support your head. Though you didn't need it. His thumb rubbed gently at the back of your head, as he hushed out more comforting nothings..

He was falling asleep on himself, as he hugged upon you tighter,

But, not to fear,

You were falling asleep on yourself.

Until he heard the sounds of sweet snores escape your throat, he wasn't ready for bed.

But, your snores soon eased him.

He forgot about his sleeping mask, his head lifting up and he puckered his lips. A tired kiss mounted to your forehead, as his head dropped back down.

"... I love.. You-,, Y/N.." He slurred out, in a desperation for sleep. A battle against his body to say those last few words.

...

Until the only thing you heard,

Were the sounds of lovers,

Snoring once more.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

~ 'When did you last sleep?' ~

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

AGGGHH I somehow got some energy up to dothis!

More of like my bf typing it out for me in my style while I'm eepy

ENJOY <33

#big jack horner #jack horner #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots #jack horner x reader #jack horner is so bbg #big jack horner x reader

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whentommymetalfie · 9 months

Text

Home to you -chapter 40

-Organs-

Prologue//1//2//3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: Alfie has some new ideas on how to get Tommy to relax at night. And a missing family member makes an appearance.

Warnings: disordered eating, suicidal ideation, mental instability, hallucinations, ptsd, self harm, past force feeding

Content note: sexual content

Wordcount: 7,2K

“Still not tired, petal?” Alfie stops reading and looks down at him over the edge of his glasses, his face warmly lit by the lamp on the bedside table. Tommy hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. There’s never any use trying to hide something from Alfie. Alfie tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “That’s alright. We’ll keep at it for a while then.” And he turns to the next page.

Burying his face back in the soft, familiar folds of Alfie’s shirt, Tommy holds the hot water bottle tighter to his chest and tries to will himself to relax. It shouldn’t be so hard. The house is quiet, but not like Arrow House, not the same echoing silence. It’s full of the creaks of old wooden floors and beams, waterpipes whistling quietly in the walls, and he can almost pretend they’re home, if he tries hard enough. But there’s a storm outside tonight, rain whipping against the windowpanes, howling around the corners, making the trees bend and their branches rustle. It’s as loud as his head. The wind is full of whispers.

Everyone else in the house is asleep. It took some time to get Charlie and Ruby to settle for the night, with the thunder that has come and gone, but now they’re sound asleep in Lizzie’s room. Everyone is asleep. Everyone is safe. And he should be tired. He’s always tired. Even when he sleeps, there’s hardly any respite, only dreams full of windowless cells, Michael grinning at him behind the bars until the room is engulfed in flames or fills with water that rushes into his mouth as he screams. The added fear of waking up in wet sheets again hasn’t made sleeping any easier. It hasn’t happened since that one time, but that doesn’t matter. Once is enough to make him dread it’ll happen again.

Alfie turns another page and starts a new chapter, and Tommy tries to focus on his voice, but a sudden bang jolts his entire body upright, held back only by Alfie’s arm tightening around his waist.

“Shh, shh, treacle, just a branch hitting the window, it’s nothing to be afraid of, eh?” Alfie reassures him, tucking him back against his side and kissing the top of his head before continuing to read as if nothing happened. He closes his eyes and tries to will himself to sleep, but he can barely hear Alfie over the wind and the rain and all the other voices, whispering but still so loud and even with his eyes closed he sees the white dress the smoke billowing underneath the closed door padded walls closing in, feels the sensation of fingers around his throat…

He needs to sleep. Alfie needs to sleep. That’s why he got angry, he’s not sleeping enough. It’s taken him some time to put the pieces together, everything is so blurry around him, but it’s as if he’s slowly remerging into the world around him, little by little. He’s clung so tightly to Alfie for safety and still it’s taken him so long to see that Alfie is tired. That’s why he got angry yesterday- it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Or was it earlier today? He hates the way everything is so fractured, the memories breaking apart and blending together. But Alfie got angry and yelled at him. It’s okay now, because Alfie told him that over and over again, it wasn’t his fault, and even when they tell him otherwise, Tommy knows he needs to listen to Alife.

Still, Alfie got angry because he’s tired, which means Alfie needs to sleep, and Alfie won’t sleep unless he thinks Tommy is asleep. Only, tonight it’s impossible. His body seems to buzz with nervous energy, and the weight on his chest feels more like icy river water with every second.

Tommy opens his eyes when Alfie goes quiet, and finds himself once again being watched over the glasses’ edge. Alfie’s hand is on his back, and he must feel the way his heart flutters like a trapped bird in there because he frowns and lays the book down on his chest.

“How about we try something different to relax a little, hm, treacle? Sometimes that’s better than just lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning.”

He should tell Alfie no, that it’s fine. Instead, he nods.

“Yeah? How about we take a bath? A nice hot one. That’s done you some good before. Then we can try sleeping again.”

Tommy sits and Alfie does the same, stretching his back and wincing, before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Come along then, sweetheart, got a feeling you don’t want to stay out here on your own.”

Hand tangled in Alfie’s sleeve, Tommy follows him to the bathroom, leaving the others behind. Alfie sits him down on a stool he’s put in there and begins filling the tub. The water splashes as it hits the bottom of the tub, but soon turns to an even stream. He listens to it. If he does, he can’t quite hear the storm outside, or the voices within it.

“This is quite the science, right, getting the perfect temperature here,” Alfie says, holding a hand under the stream of water. “See, bath water can be treacherous because if you make it too cold, then it’s useless, right, no one wants to sit in tepid water, but contrary-“ Alfie moves to the medicine cabinet and begins shuffling through it, squinting at the bottles. “If it’s too hot, yeah, the first few minutes are grand and then you feel as if you’re being boiled alive. You’ve got to get it just right.” He settles for a dark blue bottle, unscrews the cork and holds it out for Tommy to smell. “Lavender, I think. Not that I claim to be an expert at botany, but that one’s easy enough. Supposedly very good for sleeping, I have on good authority from your sister. How about we give it a try?”

Tommy nods and earns a smile and a light pat on the cheek before Alfie pours some of the bottle’s content into the bath. Soon, the room is filled with scented steam, and the tub is full of what according to Alfie is perfectly tempered water. Alfie gets undressed and steps close to Tommy, helping him with the buttons on his shirt and pulling the garment from his shoulders as if he’s unwrapping tissue paper from a fragile piece of porcelain. Tommy keeps his eyes on his chest to avoid seeing Alfie’s gaze on him, but Alfie puts a finger under his chin and tilts his head up, kissing him softly, reminding him that his broken body doesn’t disgust him.

Alfie gets in the bath first and soon Tommy is settled between his knees, his back against his chest and head resting on his shoulder, and a trembling breath escapes him as the heat engulfs him. For just a moment as he allows himself to sink into the water, he’s worried the sensation will set something off, one of all the bad memories, but there’s nothing similar about this and the terrifying depths of the river, or the icy waves of the sea, nothing at all.

Alfie sighs and leans back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, one thing can be said about your sister, right, and it’s that she’s got her priorities straight when it comes to bathtubs. A high quality one, this is. Properly sized as well.”

Alfie wraps his arms tightly around him.

Tommy settles into the embrace. There’s a window in the bathroom, and rain whips against it. His heart keeps pattering against his ribs, the bird desperate to escape. Maybe it’s the crow, maybe that’s where it’s gone to? He hasn’t seen it in so long. Alfie’s arms hold him tighter as he rocks him ever so slightly.

“Try to relax, love. Nothing to be afraid of here. I’ve got you. Not going anywhere.” Alfie’s hands wrap around his wrists and his thumbs rub gentle circles over the veins where his pulse continues to patter too quickly. “You’re safe. And I know you may not feel safe, which makes sense, after everything you’ve had to fucking endure. But you’ll just have to trust an old man and his infinite wisdom.”

Alfie moves his thumbs down over his hands, rubbing his palms, his too pronounced knuckles and bony fingers. Then back up, along his arms until he reaches his chest where the bird wings flutter. Alfie rubs circles there too, the heat of his palms seeping into his chest, easing the heavy feeling in there. Tommy listens to his breathing and follows, like he’s done so many times before. Alfie’s hands slip down over his ribs, his stomach, until they reach his thighs. He melts further and further into his embrace, turning his head to rest his forehead against Alfie’s neck. Alfie strokes along his thighs, gently moving over sparse muscle and sinew, pale skin bruised around the knees where the bones lie too close to the surface.

“Relax, love, I’ve got you,” he whispers and Tommy becomes aware of the tension in his legs, takes a slow breath and tries to imagine the warm water and Alfie’s touch melting it. “There we go, good boy,” Alfie mutters when his knees part and fall to the sides as he relaxes further. The hands move the inside of his thighs where the skin is thin and sensitive. At first it’s just the thumbs, right above his knees, but they soon trail upwards. Tommy closes his eyes and noses at the hollow of Alfie’s neck, a sigh escaping him. Alfie’s hands are high up between his legs now, thumbs rubbing into the tissue on his stomach right where his hipbones dip. A sudden burst of pain makes him hiss.

“You’re all tense here,” Alfie says and rubs a tiny bit harder. Tommy lets out a shaky breath. “Want me to stop?”

It takes some time before he understands the question and he shakes his head. There’s something soothing about Alfie’s broad thumbs slowly rubbing the tense muscles and breathing through the pain. He so often feels as if he’s floating outside of his body, disconnected from it, or that he’s trapped within it. Now, he just feels… held. Alfie buries his nose in his hair, placing kisses in the curls. Tommy reaches up and puts a hand on the back of his neck. Listens to the rain outside. It’s not quite as loud anymore.

After a while, even the crow stops trying to escape his ribcage and settles down as Alfie’s hands continue their ministrations. Something in his tense muscles gives and the pain is suddenly gone, making him let out a sigh in relief and leaving him all soft and pliant in Alfie’s arms.

“ ‘s that good, sweetheart?” Alfie cups the insides of his thighs and he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, it’s all he can hear, finally, that and the way Alfie’s breathing has changed, growing deeper. He bows his head to reach Tommy’s lips with his own, and from there, the rest of the world fades around him, leaving only them, this. Tommy kisses him back, familiar heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Alfie keeps the kiss soft at first, but when Tommy digs his fingers into his hair and pulls him closer, he slips his tongue into his mouth, hungry and demanding. It’s been so long since Alfie kissed him like this and it leaves him lightheaded and sends hot spikes of desire through him. Alfie’s hands are still on the insides of his thighs, rubbing in slow circles, and Tommy finds himself wanting those hands somewhere else. His hips buck almost by their own accord, a wave of pleasure shooting up his spine as his cock brushes against Alfie’s hand. Alfie’s hands still and Tommy becomes suddenly aware of himself, feeling a mortifying second of shame. But then he notices the hard, thick line of Alfie’s cock against the small of his back. He pushes back against him, making Alfie growl into his ear and take him into his palm. He doesn’t know how long he’s been hard but the second Alfie touches his cock it sets him on fire and he moans into Alfie’s neck as he begins to stroke him. Alfie’s other hand slides further in between his thighs, his fingers rubbing at a spot between his balls. His hips grind into him from behind. Tommy grabs his hand and pushes it further, until Alfie’s fingers graze his entrance. He feels dizzy with need, every thought gone except how much he wants, needs, Alfie to touch him, push into him, fill him up. How much he needs him to be closer.

“Don’t think you’re ready for that yet, petal,” Alfie rasps into his ear, but still rubs two fingers around the rim of his hole. Yes, yes, he is. He moans, squeezes the plea into Alfie’s hand and rubs himself against the fingers. A deep rumble rolls in Alfie’s chest and one finger slips inside, just barely. He moans again, hears it as a sound not coming from his own mouth and claws at the back of Alfie’s neck, clenching around the finger, hears Alfie mutter curses and nonsense about how they should be in bed, should use fucking lube, fine, fine, but just fingers then, insatiable little thing, and then Alfie pushes the finger in further, just one, not deep, but it burns as it stretches him out. Alfie kisses him again, breath is hot against his mouth and he moves the hand on his cock faster. The unfamiliar intrusion still has him reeling, and he arches his back. Sets his feet on the opposite edge of the tub to find some leverage as Alfie pushes deeper into him, making a string of broken noises spill from his mouth. The water around them splashes over the edge of the tub as they move together; Tommy caught between either of Alfie’s hands and Alfie rutting against him from behind. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt and he can’t stop clenching around Alfie’s finger, and as the burning feeling slowly fades he pushes into the touch, wanting more, of what he’s not sure, but he want’s, needs-

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, just wait, you’ll see,” Alfie mutters, and he rubs and strokes as if he’s searching, and suddenly brushes against something that makes Tommy’s vision go white with pleasure, and his body arch into a bow. Alfie lets out a dark chuckle. “Yeah, there we are, there we fucking are.”

With only one more push, Tommy finds himself hurtling over the edge, letting out a stifled moan that turns into a sob, and then another, and another as he first floats, completely weightless in hot, pulsating pleasure where the only sound is Alfie grunting as he finishes. Then he sinks and sinks until everything is warm, and dark, and blissfully quiet. In that quiet, he can finally rest.

Arms rock him slowly in the water. The first thing he hears is his own heartbeat, slowly calming. Then, a voice. “Tommy, sweetheart-“

The voice wants his attention but he’s tired now, already far under the surface.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” And when he categorizes the voice first as Alfie’s, and then as ‘worried’ he forces his eyes open, just enough to glance up at him through his wet lashes. Alfie’s got that concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows. He clears his throat. “Hadn’t really planned on that. Suppose I got a bit caught up in the moment, eh? Did I hurt you?” Tommy shakes his head slowly and reaches up with a heavy limb to smooth the wrinkle out with his thumb. When he smiles at him, it disappears, and Alfie smiles too. It washes the weariness from his face. He’s very handsome. Possibly the most handsome man in the world, scars and all. And at that moment, Tommy feels so incredibly lucky to be right there in his arms.

“Think that you needed that, hm, love?” Alfie gently wipes something wet from his cheek and frowns slightly. “You’re shaking,” he then notes and squeezes him tightly. Tommy only lets out a breath in acknowledgement. It’s strange, because he feels warm, warm and tired and light and heavy at the same time. Alfie sits up a bit straighter. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Tommy is completely useless, can’t even maneuver himself out of the tub but Alfie is there with firm hands and steady arms. He sways a little as Alfie reaches for a towel, and closes his eyes as he dries him off and then changes the dressings on the various wounds, the ones he doesn’t want to think about right now when everything is finally quiet. Alfie chuckles a little when he leans forward to rest his forehead against his shoulder because his head is so heavy. “If you’re this out of it now, swooning after just some fingering, let me tell you, my cock will have you fucking blacking out.”

His face feels hot and he swats Alfie on the shoulder.

“Oh, nothing to be ashamed of at all, sweetheart, I think it’s lovely how responsive you are to my attentions.” Alfie’s voice is warm and happy and it makes Tommy feel so warm and light that he doesn’t know what to do, so he just wraps his arms tightly around his waist and buries his face in his chest. Alfie makes a surprised noise as the sudden hug squeezes some air from his lungs. Then, he returns the hug even tighter.

When Alfie gets him to bed, he’s half asleep already. It doesn’t matter that it’s storming outside, or that the silence in his head won’t last, because he’s out cold the moment Alfie tucks his head into the crook of his neck.

….

The storm has blown over the next morning. Tommy watches the lingering raindrops seep down the window as he sits in the kitchen with his breakfast in front of him. Alfie’s got that worried wrinkle between his eyebrows again, the one that’s always there when he’s watching Tommy try to eat, and he’s pacing the kitchen floor, only stopping ever so often to take a mouthful of tea from the cup balancing precariously close to the edge of the table.

Tommy tries to think of something nice, find distraction from the daunting task at hand, but the quiet in his head has gone and the voices are back to being too loud and too many and his thoughts are quick and fractured beyond recognition. It makes it hard to stay focused on just one, never mind something pleasant. He doesn’t have many of those to linger on. Thinking about last night just makes him blush, so that’s out of the question, no matter how pleasant it might’ve been.

He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to eat, you have to eat Tommy, every time he swallows he feels the sensation of the tube being shoved down his throat, but he doesn’t understand why he can’t fucking get over it, forget it, we don’t want to do this, if you just eat on your own we wouldn’t have too- it was so long ago, and Alfie is never going to let that happen to him again

“He can’t make promises like that. You saw what happened last time.”

all Alfie asks in return is that he eats, and

“You can’t even do that, can you?”

Tommy looks at Alfie who finally stops pacing and takes a gulp of tea.

“You need to tell him if you want or need something,” the new voice says. It’s quiet, softer than the others, and most of the time too far away to hear. But what it says makes sense, even if it’s difficult, the most difficult thing in the world, reaching out, asking for something, even from Alfie, but he musters up the courage and pats the chair next to him. Alfie’s face softens and he goes to sit beside him. Tommy shuffles his chair closer until his leg touches Alfie’s and picks up the fork again. Focuses on the warmth of Alfie’s body next to his. Shuffles even closer, momentarily terrified that Alfie will snap at him, annoyed that he’s clinging to him all the time, which seems ridiculous after last night, but this is, this is different. Alfie wraps an arm around his waist.

“There we go. ‘s this what you need, treacle?” Alfie squeezes his waist and he tries to not think about the way his ribs protrude against his skin. Alfie likes touching him, he doesn’t care.

“Did you know there are many old, taxidermized animals that look nothing like they’re supposed to,” Alfie says suddenly, and he can tell this is going to be something longwinded, which makes the next bite easier to swallow. “Because the people who did the taxidermy had no idea what the animal was actually supposed to look like? Yeah. There’s this lion, for example, in a castle somewhere, fuck if I know where, that looks like, well, I couldn’t possibly fully convey how odd it looks, but you’ll just have to trust me. It’s all flat in the face, and it’s got… these huge, human looking teeth, because no one involved had ever seen a lion, right, they just got the hide and sort of filled it like a pillow. Quite fascinating, that, isn’t it? Or at the very least notable. Even if you couldn’t take a photo you’d think they’d at least have someone go in search of one and make a drawing, at least if it’s going to be displayed in a fucking castle. That’s some impressive fucking confidence right there…”

The familiar sound of Lizzie’s steps -long, determined ones, heels clicking- comes towards the kitchen and Alfie pauses as she enters, impeccably dressed and hair in a neat updo, not a strand out of place.

“Good morning,” she says with a faint smile and a nod in their direction before opening one of the cupboards in search of a teacup. Tommy shifts away from Alfie and sits up a bit straighter, hot in the face suddenly.

“Good morning Mrs. Shelby,” Alfie says just as easily. “Did you get any sleep with all the racket going on?”

Tommy chokes on a mouthful of tea and just barely manages to keep it from spraying all over the table, forcing it down his throat instead. Alfie means the storms, of course he means the storm.

“You alright, treacle?” Alfie frowns and he nods quickly, the heat on his cheeks spreading all over and dripping down the back of his neck and he stares down at the plate, tries not to imagine Lizzie hearing him last night. He wasn’t that loud, was he?

“You made sounds that would make even a whore blush,” Grace sneers. “Is that what you are now, Tommy? Suppose you don’t have much else to offer.”

“Well, once we’d read ‘Old mother west wind’ about ten times, we all fell asleep,” Lizzie says lightly and he glances up. Lizzie has found a teacup and is pouring tea from the pot, looking at ease. She looks completely normal, doesn’t she, not like she’s, not- Tommy picks up the fork and skewers another apple piece on it to keep anyone from noticing that he’s spiralling. The moment you woke up and fell straight into his arms I knew you weren’t mine to keep, isn’t that what she said, she told him to go with Alfie. Still, this is different, the thought that she knows somehow- But why would she? It doesn’t show on his face, does it?

Grace scoffs. “Of course she knows he’s fucking you.”

“What else would she imagine you two doing in the bedroom?” John grins from where he’s sitting on the counter, blood pooling at his feet. “Obviously she realises he does more than read you fucking bedtime stories.”

“You might as well let him take you bent over the table, right here in front of her.”

Bile rises suddenly in his throat and he swallows it down. He keeps his gaze lowered, feeling hot and cold all over suddenly. It comes over him in waves.

“Did you get any sleep?” Lizzie asks far away and he tries to claw himself above the surface again-

“Yeah, well, took some time to get settled. Tommy, you sure you’re okay? You’re white as a fucking sheet.”

Tommy can feel their concerned eyes on him but he can’t look up, or they’ll see the shame on his face. He’s overreacting, this is all in his head, there’s no need to get all fucking worked up-

Suddenly, a red ball comes bouncing across the floor, and along with it, a large flurry of fur and heavy paws, skidding across the floor, slamming into the table and tipping the teapot onto its side. Charlie and Ruby follow close behind, both shrieking and laughing. His heart jumps into his throat at the sudden burst of noise and movement, he flinches and drops his teacup onto the floor where it shatters into a thousand pieces. Everything around him keeps moving, all at once.

“Ruby, Charlie, not in the house!” Lizzie calls and hurries over before they can come any closer to the broken pieces.

“Cyril!” Alfie barks and the dog stops in its tracks as he shoots out of his chair, takes Cyril by the collar and tugs him out of reach of both the red ball and the shards. “Go on, out in the garden, none of that-“

He disappears from the kitchen with Cyril in a firm hold and Tommy only now realises he’s reaching for nothing but thin air. He breathes in sharp hiccups, tries desperately to regain his footing, it’s fine, nothing happened, nothing happened, but cold sweat is seeping down the back of his neck, his vision blurring, making the shards on the floor dissolve at the edges. He wrings his hands together in his lap, can feel that he’s shaking but can’t control it. Around him, the voices come through that familiar filter of a growing ringing in his ears.

“But we were playing!”

“Not inside, Ruby. Playing fetch is an outside game. No, no, move away from there-“

“We’re sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know was an accident, but you have to be more careful. Why don’t you go out to Cyril?”

Tommy stares at the floor. It’s his fault there are sharp, broken pieces everywhere. He gets off the chair on unsteady legs and sinks to his knees, begins picking up the shards, one by one, tries to count them to calm his racing heart, one two three-

“No, Tommy, don’t touch that, I’ll take care of it,” Lizzie says softly and crouches before him, four five six-

“We’re really sorry,” Charlie says and Tommy looks up, swallows, and he tries so hard to say the same thing as Lizzie, it’s okay, it was an accident, but he can’t make a sound so he tries to smile instead but his face feels numb and Charlie furrows his brow a little.

“Don’t be sad,” he says. Ruby watches him too, biting the nail on her thumb. Grace tilts her head, standing so close suddenly, right behind them.

“You’re scaring them,” she says and that mocking sneer that he’s grown so used to twists her lips. “Just look at you. You should be locked up. They should’ve left you in that cell where you can’t do this kind of damage.”

The pieces of the teacup smatter to the floor as he drops them. He lowers his gaze and feels the all too familiar heat rise behind his eyes. He blinks quickly and focuses on the tiny shards on the floor, once again picking them up one by one with trembling fingers, one two three four five- Lizzie moves, stands between him and the kids, gently rubbing Charlie’s shoulder.

“Charlie, it’s okay, loud noises can be sort of scary, can’t they? It’s just like the thunder.”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, dad,” Charlie says and Tommy bites the inside of his cheek, wants the floor to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. His hands shake so hard that he drops the shards again. Lizzie ushers the kids towards the door.

“He knows that, come on, let’s go find Cyril.”

“But-“

“Daddy will be okay.”

Lizzie herds the kids out of the kitchen as Alfie’s feet reappear in his field of vision.

“Is daddy never going to talk again, ever?”

“We don’t know that, love-”

The moment they’re gone Tommy folds forward and gasps for breaths, grabs onto his arms and squeezes his eyes shut, gulping around the air as he struggles to get it down past the mud the water filling in his throat as everything blurs around him the edges of his vision darkening and he digs his nails into his arms wants to take the shards and

carve himself open anything to make all of this stop he’s so

fucking pathetic

Then Alfie is there, appears by his side, firmly pulls him up and away from the shards, sitting down on a chair and settling him down onto his lap -let me get a look at that sweetheart, no scratches eh? No? Good, that’s good, no harm done- hugs him as he fights to draw more wheezing lungfuls of air down his chest, throaty whines escaping between his teeth with each exhale. He clings to Alfie for safety, fingers clenched into his shirt. Alfie rubs his back.

“There we go, shh, it’s okay,” he mutters into his hair. “Kids and dogs in the same household eh, can get a bit overwhelming for anyone.”

No, not for anyone.

Alfie cradles his head against his chest, covering the scar and muffling the whining noises. Tommy curls into the warmth.

When Lizzie returns, he can’t move, remaining curled up on Alfie’s lap. She folds her arms over her chest and watches him with sad eyes.

“They’re outside playing,” she says softly “It’s okay. They know you’re not upset with them.”

Alfie squeezes him. “Yeah? Hear that? No one’s upset. ‘s all good.”

“And Ruby has asked about that before,” Lizzie says. “About you not talking. I’ve tried to explain, but she’s too little to understand. And I suppose you don’t fully understand it yourself.” She sighs, and when she speaks again, he can hear it’s not to him anymore. “I’m taking the kids to the stables, and Ada’s… she’s out somewhere. Will you be okay by yourself? Esther and Frances are doing some shopping but they should be back soon.”

“Sure, sure, it’ll be fine. Might go for a walk. How ‘bout that, Tommy? After we’ve had some rest.”

“I can clean up here. Think there’s a broom somewhere-“

“I’ll take care of it. Go to the kids, eh?”

Lizzie disappears from the kitchen. Alone again, he hides his face completely in Alfie’s shirt and deflates. Ruby’s question keeps replaying in his mind.

Is daddy never going to talk again, ever?

How could he ever tell them?

He had so few words for so long that they were easily lost, and now he doesn’t know how to find them again. And perhaps it would be better if he never did. It’s already so difficult, seeing someone react to him in any way, to something he does, or doesn’t do, so difficult to accept that he leaves an imprint on the ever-expanding world around him when all he ever does is ruin it. Better then to stay quiet, stay unnoticed, out of people’s way.

“You may have forgotten, Tommy, but I haven’t,” Grace says. “There are still moments when you wish you’d have joined me. You would’ve spared them all this.”

He’d forgotten, for a short moment, it’s so easy to do with Alfie, forget how broken he is. But then he sees his children, anyone else, and it becomes painfully clear they’re all part of a world he doesn’t have access to anymore, one he doesn’t know how to exist in. One where there isn’t a place for him.

“That’s why they locked you away.”

Alfie’s fingers trail down his temple, soothing the phantom pain there,

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’ll talk when you’re ready. And I talk enough for the both of us, so there’s no pressure where that bit is concerned.”

Alfie holds him tighter, reminds him that he’s not floating in the dark river.

…

It takes so little to completely knock him down. He’s exhausted after what happened in the kitchen, being pulled underneath the surface and clawing his way up again always leaves him completely drained and disconnected from his surroundings. But Alfie knows. Alfie takes care of him. Alfie takes him to Ada’s library to pick out a book. Or rather, approve of what he picks out. Got impeccable taste, don’t I love? I know you trust my judgement. And then to the living room where the sun is shining and Esther has left a pot of tea, which means she must be back now. There, he tucks Tommy in under a blanket with the hot water bottle.

That afternoon, he’s still dozing off with his head on Alfie’s lap when the voices wake him. They come from far away, he only hears them as mutters through the house, through the open door to the living room. He closes his eyes again, they’re not real, and you shouldn’t listen to them, but the voices seem to come closer and he grabs onto Alfie’s sleeve. A hard expression settles on Alfie’s face. Alfie notices them too, which means they must be real.

“Stay here,” he says, and moves quickly across the room, closing the door as he leaves. It happens so fast and suddenly he’s alone. Tommy curls into the corner of the sofa and listens carefully as Alfie’s voice joins the others, but can only hear bits and pieces. The voices come closer, stopping right outside the door.

“Solomons, he knows he needs to be careful,” Ada’s voice says.

“Right, right, because this fucking family’s got such a great track record with that. Seems like every time one of you show up things go south. And we really don’t need any more upsets today. Already had a rough start.”

“Please, I just want to see him.” Tommy recognizes the voice but his head is working so slowly piecing things together.

“You on something?” Alfie asks. “Because it sure as fuck looks like it.”

Ada’s voice goes sharp and angry. “I wouldn’t have fucking brought him if-“

“You drunk, then?”

“Fucking hell, Solomons!”

“Of course not!” it says, the voice he knows, he knows it so well but why can’t he remember? Tommy climbs off the sofa but ends up frozen on the spot, unable to approach the door.

“Looks like it. Smells like it too. But perhaps you’ve just reached that stage where your bloody skin begins to smell like whiskey. “

“Enough of this, this is my house, and if-“

Ada is cut off, the door opens and Finn is standing on the threshold.

His younger brother stares at him as if he’s seen a ghost, rigid and still. Then he crosses the room in three long strides and pulls Tommy into a tight embrace. Tommy’s head barely comes up to his shoulder but Finn ducks his head and hunches over as if he could make himself small again and Tommy wraps his arms around him, as best as he can now when he’s suddenly so grown. Finn squeezes him tightly, and he lets him. Then he lets Finn hold on for as long as he likes. For once it feels like that’s enough.

When Finn eventually pulls out of the hug, he takes Tommy by the shoulders and looks him up and down with a wide grin on his face that doesn’t waver, even if Tommy knows what a pitiful sight he makes. Finn clears his throat and turns away quickly, wiping at his eyes.

“ ‘s good to see you, Tom,” he says, voice thick. “I thought, well, we all thought… Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.” He glances in Ada’s direction. “Ada’s told me everything. In the car on the way here. I’m- I’m sorry you had to go through all that. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

He squeezes Tommy’s shoulders, his hands so large they cover them entirely. Tommy looks him over, mostly to have an excuse to break eye contact. He’s in an obviously new suit and freshly shaved, but his hair is a bit too long and there are bloody streaks in the corners of his eyes. The dark circles under them makes his insides clench. But his smile is real and unwavering and without questions and it loosens the knot in his stomach slightly.

“Yeah, would you look at that, bet you barely recognize me,” Finn says. “Almost looks like I’m your big brother now, eh? But don’t worry, I’m taller than Arthur too. Even if it’s just by an inch or so. But you’ve always been tiny.”

And he’s got the audacity to ruffle Tommy’s hair. Letting out an indignant huff, Tommy brushes away the hair away from his eyes. It’s getting unruly, those long bits. He only notices it now.

Finn is still smiling, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. As always he looks to Alfie for help. Alfie is stood by the doorway next to Ada, watching him with soft eyes, and comes instantly to his aid, moving to his side and reaching out to shake Finn’s hand.

“We didn’t do much of a proper introduction, did we?” he says. Finn accepts the hand and Alfie shakes it. “Alfie Solomons.”

“I know, Sir. You’re Tommy’s… friend,” Finn says. “Ada told me.”

“Sure, sure. And a very good friend, at that,” Alfie says, still holding firmly onto Finns’ hand, eyes boring into his. “So I’m sure you can see why I have his best interest in mind, and might be a bit dubious of any and all people who may or may not cause him some sort of distress.”

A bright shade of red spreads up Finn’s neck. “Of course, Sir. And I’m- I’m happy you’ve been looking out for him.”

Alfie grunts and keeps staring at Finn until he’s virtually squirming in his spot. Tommy moves an inch closer and brushes his hand against Alfie’s. Alfie looks at him. The hard expression melts from his face and he pats Finn’s shoulder.

“Well, pleased to meet yet another one of Tommy’s illustrious siblings. Must say you’ve got more manners than your older brother. Perhaps you could give dear old Arthur some tips.”

Finn lets out a relieved laugh and Ada pipes up from the doorway, “Would you like to stay for dinner, Finn?”

“Sure, sure, if that would be alright?” Finn says, looking to Alfie as if waiting for approval. Alfie in turn looks to Tommy, and he nods, even if his heart sinks in his chest.

“Great,” Ada says, clearly picking up on the exchange. “I’ll let Frances know,”

Finn suddenly pulls Tommy into another hug, and this time it’s as if he remembers his size because he stands tall and pulls him into his chest, arms around his neck to tuck his head in there. Tommy feels strangely small. But perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

…

Tommy stays in his and Alfie’s room during dinner, because he can’t bear all of them watching him, can’t let Finn see how difficult it is for him to eat. He knows it must seem strange to Finn, that he’s probably asking questions that Lizzie and Ada struggle to answer, but the mere thought of sitting through an entire meal with anyone but Alfie is unbearable. So this is just how it’ll have to be. Alfie understands, of course, without Tommy having to say a word. But later that evening, when Arthur has shown up and announced it to the whole house, and the kids have been put to bed, Tommy finds himself in the living room with the others, one of his hands firmly attached to Alfie’s sleeve and the other holding onto the hot water bottle. He’d forgotten how loud his family could be. Their voices quickly blend together and he can’t keep track of the conversation, it moves too fast and there are too many people talking. It’s strange to realise it, that he can’t even follow a normal conversation. Alfie notices. Leans in and asks so quietly no one else can hear if he wants to go upstairs, but he still wants to stay. Pretend to be a part of it. Though it quickly makes him tired, makes him sink deeper into the cushions.

He’s just going to rest his eyes for a little bit…

At least with so much noise, there isn’t much room for the noise in his head.

When he wakes, someone has put a blanket over him, and he’s curled up on his side, one of the pillows tucked under his head. His eyelids are still too heavy to open.

“He seems to sleep a lot,” a voice says, Finn, he thinks.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t sleep great during the night,” Alfie says. “But it’s also exhausting for him, I reckon, just being awake and keeping track of things. Get through the fucking day. Usually naps a few times even on a good day.”

“And today’s not?”

Alfie falls uncharacteristically silent, so Lizzie answers, “Since the fire there haven’t been many of those. Well, since the asylum, I suppose.”

“Thought we might lose him,” Ada says softly. “Those first days. That he might be too far gone.”

“Well, he’s up and about now, no need to dwell on that,” Arthur says. “Things are looking up!”

They all shush him, and a warm palm covers Tommy’s ear. He shifts into the touch.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Alfie whispers and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re safe.” The gentle touch lulls him slowly back to sleep, but he’s awake enough to feel it when Alfie scoops him up into his arms. “Right, I’m going to put him to bed now. See if I can get him to keep sleeping.”

“You sure you should be carrying him up all those stairs?” Arthur says. “Been doing an awful lot of limping. I can do it.”

“Sod off. You’re lucky both my arms are otherwise occupied, Shelby,” Alfie grunts. “Good-fucking-night.”

The voices all say something and then he’s floating, weightless, head on Alfie’s shoulder. Perhaps he should let him know he’s awake -he is awake, isn’t he?- but he loves being carried by Alfie. Loves listening to his heartbeat and feel that here, there’s nothing that can hurt him, that he’s safe. That there’s at least one place where he belongs.

#tommy x alfie #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #peaky blinders fanfiction #home to you #breathe again verse #mess

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darlingpwease · 2 years

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"he's like a dog that gives you his paw and let's you squeeze him regardless" <3

a boy who devotes himself-- body and heart -- to you is quite frankly, best boy. bestest boy. ive found the goodest boy, everyone can go home now.

as much as i love pampering the boy; being rough is so fun <3 and when he freely offers himself up to your pleasures whim? delightful.

he lies on the bed and takes whatever attention you have to give like the attentive companion he is-- wholeheartedly trusts in you, and that your treatment of him will be something he can lose himself in. never questions what course you'll guide him upon; reliability established from the beginning provides all the more reason for his blind trust-- and blindly does he follow your lead down a spiral of your carnality, soon all his to be consumed by (⭒ ์ ⲳ ์ )

whatever risqué thing you'd want to enact on him, he welcomes it <3 press down on his airways in spite of overestimulation forcing him to gasp for air, do it 'till his head pounds and his vision gets blurry; if you want to fuck him without decency in a crowd,, all that would resemble an objection would be a flushed, ruddy face and whines. go right ahead and screw him silly, love <3

even if people side-eye and mummer amongst themselves, it wouldn't particularly interrupt his high. if you're still by his side and satisfied, it's okay <3 always be by his side, and he'll do everything-- anything, to justify your desire in him

you could want him to do the most pathetic and disgusting things, and he'd do so in a heartbeat. fuck, you could use him as a urinal and he'd just be happy you like him that much. yuuta, your dear dogboy.

I'm glad that you appreciated line because I thought to remove it until the end during rereading, since it was written after I was distracted by something and then "oh! paw!.. probably wrote something about the 'animal theme'" </3

content warnings: kinda unhealthy dynamic (as always with him), pet names, poor yuuta but as I promised no angst <3

hyperstimulation (g.), dumbification (g.), oral sex (r.) + oral fixation (mention of Gojo & Toge), hard kinks (breath play, mention of piss kink), penetration giving, (semi?) public sex implied

ajshaskhsjshs yessir,,,,, the best boy, so precious and dedicated to you that will do anything without hesitation or question — or, more precisely, let you do anything with him, but Yuuta still tries to please you, even if you make him bury himself in pillows and relax <3 it's time for pretty dogboys to keep their thighs spread and stay silly while you decide everything <33

Yuuta certainly tends to think too much — not good for his ability to relax, though; but luckily he has you, and you're willing to take on these terrible things and not let him think about anything until you're sure he's learned his lesson well <333

what should cute boys do?.. wrong, cute boys should lie down and be cute & dumb. if he can't answer even such a simple question, then why doesn't he stop thinking about something serious? there's nothing wrong with him not being good at it, it suits him to have an empty head♡

and you, in fact, do not humiliate him at all — you really appreciate your cute puppy, so desperate even from just stroking his stomach, and you take care of him; he does not need to try to be the same as you or look smart, you love him even if the only thing he will do is accept you and follow you <3333

(when you said "spiral of your carnality", I immediately remembered that old thing where Yuuta, even if he has a strong enough gag reflex, still tries to accept you until he buries his nose in pubic hair, and he sometimes gets so carried away with the process that he forgets to breathe until you push him away or he doesn't start to choke too much </333 sorry darlin')

(again a departure from the topic, but he seems to actually have a slight oral fixation? not like Toge or Gojo, but, you know, when Yuuta realizes at some point that the best way to make you feel good is with his mouth, and he soon begins to adore it; call it 'self-brainwashing', but it's just a coincidence that he so easily starts liking the same things as you, okay?)

ahhhhhhhh... big brain,,,,,, it would be so easy for you to put arm around his neck — he's not one of those overly "muscular-muscle-boys", you know.

of course, you take care of everything — in addition to consent, you specify what would be more suitable for him, and the poor boy is lost, because, well... your palm around his neck already seems comfortable enough? hhh, he doesn't care about anything else; listen, as long as it's you, he'll like everything.

of course, he has limits! but- he is always ready to review them, so you should not ask such questions, hahaha...

but his cute expression when your hand wraps around his throat,,, his body twitches so sweetly when you keep holding, cooing something, but he doesn't even realize that — just feeling less and less oxygen coming to him; saliva flowing from his mouth, but he doesn't even think about stopping you or using a "safe sign", allowing you to make him lose touch with reality more and more, makes things around him blur more and more, as if he is looking through a cloudy glass, and his heart is pounding louder and louder in an almost frenzied rhythm,,,,,,

but if you push into him,,, Yuuta is so sensitive, but cannot make a sound, only whining and wheezing, almost whimpering; his face is so wet, with his tongue slightly sticking out, trying to inhale, but you hold him tightly, and a painfully hot knot gradually grows inside him, as if he is in an agonizing fever, which is getting stronger with each of your thrusts,,,,,,,,,

but when his body starts shaking even harder. too much, too little — he doesn't even understand what's going on, except that an unexpected painfully sweet wave is happening inside him, which is getting stronger and stronger with every second, not letting him relax,,,,,

in the end, Yuuta tries to tell you that he can continue — but he can't even think, only cling, mumbling something to make it clear that he is still desperately grasping at the elusive consciousness <333

apparently, you will have to slow down a little when you realize that he does not react to touch in any way — the babyboy has lost consciousness, but still tries to wrap around you and not let you get free. maybe it doesn't look very strong, and it's actually light, but it will be hard for you to get out of the tenacious embrace </333

good dogboys are not shy when they are fucked <3

Yuuta behaves like such an adorable puppy, whining and sticking out his tongue when comes again, but you bend him, not letting others see his adorable face when he clings to your clothes, something deliciously whining,,,, he is so shamelessly desperate when you fuck him, even if everyone around can hear his moans and pleas — when everyone around can see how good he is, and their eyes slide over him, and he should be ashamed, but he can't think about others when you are so close and deep, even if he should probably be at least a little ashamed — the boy loves attention.

after all, isn't it his wish that he never be alone? you are sure that no one will be able to ignore him when he is so loud and clearly enjoying what is happening, but even if you want to tease him, his brain is full of thoughts only about you, he does not even realize that there is someone nearby — and even if he did, he would not be able to stop.

people see, and he should want to tell you something, but only begs to be rougher and deeper — his body feels so sensitive and raw, as if every nerve has become exposed, and you are playing with him, making him go more and more crazy. he couldn't even imagine something so shameful before, but now he just refuses more and more decency, allowing himself to be used and enjoying this fact, too full of pleasure to even talk.

but he knows, he knows that it doesn't matter as long as you keep him close to you, cooing, how well he's doing, and how well you feel — there's nothing more important than these feelings and these words; it doesn't matter to him whether they call him a pervert or an animal, as long as you consider him yours a good boy and your spouse, with whom you want to spend all your lives.

as long as you hold his hand, it doesn't matter, and Yuuta doesn't know what he wants more — that you knew it or that it was his secret that you should never find out.

<333

(I beg you,,,, you tell him that you want to try something, and he looks askance, waiting for you to offer it to him — and he is so inept at hiding it </3 he has a body, you have ideas, it would be nice for you to combine it you know </33 he is very hardy and strong even if he doesn't look like that </333 of course, he doesn't hint at anything, but he has broad views and an open mind you know </3333 maybe you could do something about it </33333)

no, but listen; yuuta & piss/cum play/inflation sounds a little too good?.. I see don't look at me </3

#.spicy♡#❖.my jewelry #🥮 — jujutsu kaisen #✉.yuuta okkotsu #🧸.choking #🧸.piss #🧸.hyperstimulation #🧸.oral sex #🧸.penetration giving #🧸.public sex #dom reader #top reader

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