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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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A Beautiful Little Fool | dark!Sebastian Stan x reader (The Great Gatsby AU)

well, The Great Gatsby entered the public domain today, so I thought I’d besmirch it with some filthy dark smut. overall I did not put too much effort into relating my story to the plot or themes of the novel, just the setting and basic instigating actions, so don’t look too hard for an obvious allegory or familiar characters. this stunning moodboard (and, best of all, the incredible edits of seb as gatsby) was made by @nsfwsebbie who was also so kind as to beta for me and be my sounding board, thank you so much!!

summary: a reclusive millionaire throws extravagant parties in hopes that his lost love will attend and he can get one more chance to win her back. one can get used to getting whatever they desire, a little too comfortable with the idea that money can attain anything.

word count: 5.2k

warnings: smut (noncon/heavy dubcon), forced infidelity, a touch of breeding kink, period-accurate sexism (if anything it's a bit more toned down compared to 'period-accurate'), very slight yandere energy, obsession, one (1) slap

all my works are 18+, if you are under 18 please do not read

I was within and without; simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.

You could already hear the music and you were still a block away. “Sounds like quite the ball,” Walter observed, and you clung tighter onto his arm as you walked with him along the damp pavement. “Seems like the rumors might just be true about Stan parties.”

“All the rumors are true,” you informed him quickly, pulling your shawl up to protect your shoulders a bit better from the chilly evening breeze, “except for one.”

You took in a slow, deep breath as you observed the mansion from the outside; partygoers were mingling about in the yard and gardens, even though it was much too cold to be outside for very long, in your humble opinion. Walter opened the door for you, being polite that way, but you found yourself hesitating before you stepped in out of the dark and the cold into the overwhelming light and warmth of his mansion.

You thought maybe you could avoid him, at least for the first hour or so of the party, but it was like he had been waiting at the door just for you to arrive, twiddling his ring-adorned thumbs in that gaudy tuxedo of his.

“Darling!” Sebastian greeted with a beaming grin, outstretching his arms (a cane in one hand, and a drink in the other) to wrap you in an embrace. “You’re late!”

“Fashionably,” you defended with a nervous laugh, pulling back from the hug a little sooner than he seemed to want you to. You almost forgot Walter was standing right beside you, and an awkward beat made you suddenly remember they ought to be introduced. “Oh! Sebastian, I’m not sure you’ve met my fiancé, Walter Penner.”

“Pleasure,” Walter offered his hand for a handshake, smiling warmly. “Your home is stunning, I must say. You… really know how to throw a party.”

Sebastian just shrugged like it was nothing before returning the handshake, but his cheeks were a little pinker than they were before— maybe it was just the draft you’d let in when you and your date had entered the front door. “The pleasure’s all mine,” he assured, “I’ve been hearing so much about you from your lovely fiancée here, I’m excited to see if it’s all true.”

“Walter said the same thing about you, outside,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, and your date cast you a brief glare of embarrassment.

“She’s never been too good at keeping secrets,” Sebastian chuckled, “yours, mine, or hers.”

The negging comment made your cheeks warm a little, wondering if you should defend yourself, but Walter spoke instead. “You must be used to it by now, I hear the two of you have been close friends since you were children.”

Memories of summer flashed in your mind, of green soft grass between toes and secret hideaways in trees and warm sunshine casting the countryside in a golden glow. It seemed like that was all so far away now, the hilly landscape replaced with industry, the sun outshined by the electrical lights that seemed to cover nearly the entire mansion these days.

“Yes,” Sebastian agreed, tearing you from your train of imaginative thought and turning to address you, “you’ve known me since I was just a penniless dreamer with two good legs.”

You were a little surprised he was so comfortable admitting that he didn’t come from wealth. Maybe some people thought it was more inspiring that way, but others would say that it was impossible for him to truly shed his place in society as a poor sharecropper’s son.

But then again, they would say the same thing about you, and you’d become engaged to the wealthiest bachelor in Manhattan, as well as a man you were lucky enough to say you were truly in love with.

Sebastian let the two of you go and enjoy the party for a while, though you were sure you could feel his eyes on you all the while. Walter went and fetched the two of you some drinks, while you waited beside a small statuette that Sebastian must have collected some time, tilting your head as you observed it. He had an eye for art that you couldn’t relate to, although you at least understood why he might enjoy a bronze cast of a beautiful nude woman.

As some young women flocked in a group beside you, their conversation became impossible to ignore. “He’s single,” one of them announced, “and fabulously wealthy. The perfect man.”

“Yes,” another agreed, “but he’s so reserved.”

“I like that!” the first defended.

“I think you’d like anything about somebody who could afford to throw a party like this,” yet another accused with a smirk. A fit of giggles made it seem like the rest agreed with that sentiment.

“You’re all just jealous because he was looking at me,” she frowned defensively. “He’ll want a wife sometime, and I’ll be here waiting.”

You were almost compelled to butt in, but if you told them the truth they probably wouldn’t even believe you. Some papers had reported that the elusive Mr. Stan was disinterested in dating or engagement, but usually attributed it to eccentricity or promiscuousness. What they had not discovered was that he was still hung up on his childhood love, the girl next door who had captured his heart as a boy and never given it back— not for a lack of trying.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered it, in fact you had returned his affections many years ago when he left to fight in the Great War. It seemed that with you and Sebastian, it was always the right person at the wrong time; and maybe, deep down, you knew that Walter had been the wrong person at the right time, but your love for him was true if forced. He didn’t make you laugh like Sebastian could, but in the end it was best that the two of you stay friends and that he finally take up any of the lovely girls vying for his affection. Maybe some were only seeking his money… okay, maybe all of them were only seeking his money, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a girl worth his time in the bunch. An ambitious man like Sebastian wouldn’t have much trouble forging a real connection with someone like the woman standing beside you know, gossiping about how secretive and handsome he was.

When the chit-chat stopped, you looked up to see what had garnered their attention… only to find Sebastian standing right beside you. “I bought this in Sicily, thinking it was an original, but I learned recently that it’s a fake,” he informed you. You furrowed your brow in confusion until he pointed forward and you realized he was referring to the statue you’d been staring at.

“Oh! Right,” you mumbled.

“I still keep it on display because as of yet, nobody else can tell the difference,” he admitted. There he was lifting that façade again, letting his guests see a glimpse of the dirty truth he usually hid away.

“What’s inspiring this openness, Sebastian?” you asked him with a nervous giggle. “Are you high on something?”

“Just your presence,” he returned with a flirtatious grin, “and a bit of opium.”

You knew he was joking, although the ladies eavesdropping nearby didn’t seem so sure. “Yes, I think an opium addiction would suit you nicely,” you rolled your eyes, “to go with all this excessiveness you indulge yourself in.”

“I think I’ll just stick with the champagne for now,” he decided. “Have you had some yet? It’s exquisite.”

“Walter went to fetch me some,” you remembered, glancing out into the crowd to see if you’d find him there looking for you.

“Oh, perfect!”

You weren’t sure what was perfect about that.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, in private, if I can,” he explained.

That idea didn’t sit right with you. Even just speaking to him now without your fiancé nearby was a bit scandalous, but at least there were plenty of people nearby to witness to the fact that nothing especially untoward had occurred. Being truly alone with him sounded much more dangerous. “You can,” you replied solemnly, “but I can’t say that you will.”

“Please,” he whispered, just a hint of his desperation becoming apparent. You nodded and he smiled back at you, guiding you across the foyer and up the stairs. He grabbed a drink from a waiter and handed it to you as you dutifully followed him upstairs, glancing down over the banister at the merriment before he led you into his room, the sounds of the party fading to near silence behind the door as he closed it behind you.

"Do you like the party, darling?" he asked as you swallowed a gulp of champagne which tingled at the back of your throat and did less to calm your nerves than you’d hoped.

"Yes," you nodded, "your parties are always… lavish."

"It's all for you," he informed you with a gentle smile. "All this: the music, the fireworks, the champagne—" he motioned to the glass in your hand— "it's all for you."

"For… me?"

He stepped closer with a chuckle, that light little chuckle that you’d grown to understand meant ‘oh, you silly little thing.’ “Of course. Who else? I love you, darling, I’ve loved you all my life— you know that.”

“And I’m engaged to Walter,” you reminded him. “You know that, too.”

His smile faded slightly, and you saw him trying to shake that anger that was always waiting just below the surface. “Yes, I know that. I’m not stupid—”

"You must be if you think this is going to work, that I’ll leave him for you because… because what? You threw me a party?”

“I threw you a thousand parties. Every single one, it was all a show— all the dancing and the small talk, I don’t need it. It could just be the two of us, for all I care.”

“I could hardly imagine we’d finish all the booze…”

“Don’t joke with me. Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re funny either way; you hardly speak with me, you hardly know me, and you think you love me.”

You gasped as he stepped forward, grabbing your wrist tightly. A sharp sound made you understand that your champagne flute had fallen to the floor and shattered, but you didn’t see it because you couldn’t look away from his icy blue eyes piercing through you as they burned with rage. “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone or anything like I love you. And you’re gonna love me, too.”

Protests died in your throat as the air was knocked from your lungs when he pushed you back into the wall. He forced his lips over yours, holding the back of your neck so you couldn’t turn your face away. Your free hand beat at his chest before it, too, was pinned by the wrist while he sighed and moaned against you, pushing his tongue between your lips. A swift kick to the shin deterred him more effectively, knocking him back just enough to let you run for the door. Your fingertips just barely brushed against the cold metal of the doorknob before he grabbed you at the waist and pulled you back. “Help!” you screamed hoarsely.

“Nobody’s gonna hear you,” he laughed, pressing his chest against your back, his breath hot on your neck. “The party’s too loud.”

He spun you around quickly, leaning in for another kiss. “Walter!” you yelped, purely out of instinct, but he stopped you with a hand clamped over your mouth.

“How dare you say his name,” he hissed. “How dare you bring him into my house?”

You couldn’t answer with his strong fingers holding your mouth shut, but you could mumble indistinctly as you began to cry.

“Has he fucked you? Hm?” he interrogated coldly. Afraid of giving no answer at all, you hesitated before shaking your head. Sebastian smiled a little bit as he let his hand slip down from your face, his expression softening.

“He’s… he’s a real gentleman,” you explained weakly.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Sebastian chuckled incredulously. “Never thought you’d want someone so… traditional.”

“He treats me right,” you continued.

“That can’t be true, if he hasn’t taken you properly,” he smirked. “God, you don’t even know how good you can feel, do you? Poor girl. I have half a mind to throw you over that bed and show you right now.”

“N-no, Seba, please, you wouldn’t,” you stammered anxiously, watching his eyes drift from your own down to your lips, and your neck, and your chest. You knew the plunging neckline was a bad idea.

“You haven’t called me that since we were children. I miss that, when you still cared for me.”

“I’ve always cared for you, it’s you that pushed me away,” you reminded him. “But it’s okay, we’ll be close again, like we used to. We’ll be friends. Just… just let me go, we should go back outside… your guests are expecting you.”

“What was that game we used to play back then?” he wondered aloud, ignoring your suggestion entirely. “It was your favorite.”

“Ch-checkers?”

He grinned, more devilish than before. “No… it was ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’”

You looked away, wincing at his mocking laughter as he held you a little tighter; the back of your dress was rather low, meaning that his rough hand was stroking your exposed back which made the hairs at the nape of your neck stand up.

“Do you still remember how to play?” he purred as he spun you back and tossed you onto the bed. You tried to sit up but he was already on you, reaching under your dress to grab at your pantyhose.

“W-wait,” you whimpered, but he had already found your undergarments and begun to pull them down your thighs.

“These legs,” he growled, “god, I can’t get enough of ‘em. You know what you do to me, sweetheart?”

He answered his own question rather quickly as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to where he was kneeling on the bed— pressing the back of your thigh against the hard shape tenting his trousers. You grimaced and looked back up at the ceiling, but he grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling your face back down to look at where he was hovering over you.

“No, no, darling, don’t look away,” he cooed, “I want you to see this.”

He lifted your leg as he turned his head to the side, never breaking from your gaze as he started to kiss your skin, moving up your calves and dipping lower to reach your inner thigh. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, but you felt it sending shivers up your body as he moved closer and closer to somewhere he was very much not supposed to be. “Seba,” you whimpered, not sure what you were pleading with him for but hoping it would get through to him anyways.

He just smiled wider, letting his teeth nip the delicate skin just beneath your hips. You yelped a bit before biting down on your lip to keep quiet; you knew that if someone walked in now, you wouldn’t be able to say that he’d forced himself on you… not when you were lying back and letting him do this to you.

Just when you thought his mouth couldn’t get any closer to the part of you that was suddenly throbbing of its own accord, he pulled back and pushed up your dress even more, growling at the sight of you spread wide for him. “What a gorgeous pussy, darling.” It didn’t seem like a sign of approval though, when he brought his hand down against it with a harsh smack, forcing you to cry out and throw your head back. It hurt, at first, but then it felt so oddly good and you couldn’t explain why. When he did it again, the pain and the pleasure were even more intense than the last time, making your legs quiver a bit. “Oh, you like that,” he realized proudly. “You’re getting so wet already.”

He hit you again, and again, until you were sobbing and begging for him to stop— not just because he was hurting you, but because you knew if he didn’t stop, you would reach your peak and that could not happen under any circumstances. You couldn’t like this. If you came, he would be able to tell so easily; he was literally staring right between your legs, there was nowhere to hide from him.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” he groaned, “I need to get a taste of you.”

You, being foolish and innocent in these regards, thought he was going to kiss you again. In a way, he did; he grabbed your thighs tightly as he leaned down and latched his mouth onto your aching, swollen sex, moaning loudly as he explored you with his tongue. Your eyes shot wide open, your hands reaching down to push him away only to falter halfway through and dig into his hair instead. Between his lips, his tongue, and his teeth, it was like you couldn’t keep track of all the ways he was touching you. Each moan from him vibrated right through you, until you were moaning even louder. It was shameful, and your heart ached to know you were betraying Walter like this, but you were lost completely in the throes of pleasure that Sebastian was giving you.

Forcing your eyes shut only made the feeling more intense as your hands tightened into fists, gathering the satin-y through beneath you in your clammy palms. But opening your eyes and looking back at him wasn’t much help either, with the way he was staring back at you so intensely. You’d never seen his eyes so dark before, not in all the years you’d known him, and it made your skin crawl.

He stopped briefly to catch his breath, his prideful smile glistening with your arousal; it was awfully lewd, and you hated how attractive he looked all disheveled and hungry like this.

“You really ought to be spoiled,” he decided, his voice deeper and rougher around the edges. “It’s a waste if nobody’s making you come like this every day, getting a taste of this sweet little cunt.”

That word made you wince, and you realized you were more offended by what he was saying than what he was doing, oddly enough.

He got back to it with more vigor than before, pushing his tongue into you as you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming. How could something so wrong feel so thoroughly right, so perfect? You hated him just as much as you loved him in that moment, and you wanted him to stop just as much as you wanted him to keep going. The tricky thing was that you didn’t get to decide if you loved or hated him, or he stopped or continued. Your body and mind were his playthings, pliable to whatever he wanted to take from you.

Apparently, he wanted to take more from you; when he had pushed you to your peak against your wishes, and done so much more easily than you would’ve liked to admit, he sat back and tossed away his jacket, freeing him to shirk his suspenders and unbutton his trousers.

“N-no, Seba, you can’t—” you whimpered mindlessly, attempting to crawl back away from him on the bed.

“You’ll let me devour you until you come, but don’t want me to get mine, too?” he grinned. “Greedy little girl.”

He grabbed you and pulled you back down into him, gripping the neckline of your dress and tearing it down the front in a few quick rips. You fought back but it was laughably useless, your strength nothing against his.

“I hate when you wear things like this— things he bought you,” he explained with a snarl. “These pearls, too, he got you these, right?”

There wasn’t even time to answer before he grabbed the string and snapped it, sending the pearls flying everywhere and rolling across the floor. You felt more naked without them than you did without the dress. Still, you felt especially naked when he pressed his hips forward and his length slid through your folds. “No,” you sighed, “no— stop, it’s not funny anymore.”

“Funny?” he grimaced. You yelped when he grabbed your jaw tightly, forcing you to look back up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I love you. You hear me? I love you.”

“I know,” you sighed shakily.

“Say it back,” he demanded. “Say you love me, too.”

“I can’t,” you shuddered, crying when he released your jaw to slap you harshly across the face.

“I’m sorry that I had to do that,” he sighed. “I don’t think it’s right for a man to strike a woman, even if it’s with an open hand, but you need to get some sense into you. I know you love me, darling. You just need to say it.”

That false impression of mercy faded quickly when you only responded with silence.

“Say it!” he yelled, dripping with rage.

“I love you!” you finally cried, and he made swift work of reaching down to push his cock right up against your entrance, driving forward with brutal force. Your back arched and your head fell back, your hands gripping at his half-buttoned shirt— some kind of silent plea that he slow down a bit, perhaps. It didn’t seem to work, each thrust deeper and faster than the last already. The only sounds now were his quickening breaths right beside your ear, his skin slapping against yours, and your weak little cries that you choked out each time he pushed himself all the way into you.

It stung and burned inside you, just like your eyes stung with fresh tears and your chest burned with some incomprehensible storm of emotions. You wouldn’t call anything about this a relief, and yet there was something cathartic about it as well.

“He’s not gonna want you once he knows what I��ve done to you,” he whispered in your ear, tickling your leg as he pulled it to wrap around his waist. “Once he knows I’ve taken your innocence, made you mine.”

You whimpered as sobs made your chest convulse, but said nothing; you knew he was right.

“He’s not gonna want you once I’ve knocked you up. Nobody will… but me.”

You started to struggle underneath him, pushing at his shoulders helplessly. “No, you can’t— you have to stop.”

“You’ll make such a beautiful bride, darling, especially if you’re already showing,” he grinned, bringing his hand to rest just below your bellybutton— just over your womb. “I’ve dreamed all my life that you’d carry my child,” he admitted wistfully.

Crying did more to egg him on than anything, it seemed, as you barely managed to speak enough to plead with him not to finish inside you. Maybe you were naïve, but not so much that you didn't know how easily you could become pregnant if he didn't pull out, or how quickly your engagement would be broken off and your reputation ruined if that happened.

He ignored your denial and moved faster, running his hands all over your body with a few brief detours to grope your breasts and pinch the hardened nipples.

As his lips attached to your neck, you felt his teeth sink into your skin as he sucked just by your pulse. “Don’t,” you whimpered, “you’ll leave a mark.”

“Good,” he mumbled, breaking away from his work at your neck to teasingly nibble on your ear. “It’s no trouble to me if everyone knows what I’ve done to you. I want them to know. Don’t you think they saw us come into my room? Maybe if you moan loud enough they’ll get to hear you coming for me.”

It should’ve made you try even harder to stay quiet— and it did, it just didn’t work at all, and soon your moans were echoing around the room as he smiled down at you. “Close again, already? You’re so sweet for me,” he praised, somehow angling his hips just right to hit the most sensitive places inside you, your walls rippling and convulsing around him.

“You have t-to stop,” you breathed, holding the waves of pleasure back with everything you had.

“I can’t,” he groaned, “you feel too good. It’s okay, darling, just let go…”

He continued with a string of whispered praises, but you couldn’t hear it anymore as your body began to erupt in jolts of pleasure, your arms and legs shaking uncontrollably where they were wrapped around his neck and hips, respectively.

“Keep going,” he encouraged gently, “you sound so beautiful when you come, darling.”

But the sensation threatened to consume you, burned you from the inside out until you couldn’t take anymore. It was overwhelming to the point that you lost all control over your words, needing this to end more than you needed to preserve any dignity you had left. “Please,” you sighed, “please come, Sebastian…”

He laughed a bit, kissing your ear again. “Sweet girl, I knew you’d come around. Want it inside, darling?”

You shook your head, he laughed again.

“Yes you do,” he sing-songed condescendingly, “you want to have my baby, don’t you? Wanna leave that awful man and be with me, like you should?”

He must’ve known there was only one way to get you to agree to that.

“Remember, darling,” he whispered, “it won’t end until you say yes.”

“Yes,” you choked out, “I want to be with you, Seba, I want your baby— just please come and get off of me.”

He grinned and fucked you faster, the slapping of skin so loud now that surely anyone in the hall would hear it. His own moans were quiet but desperate, breathless as he started to pump and flex inside you, his warmth coating your insides as he groaned your name weakly. He laid on top of you, motionless, for quite some time until finally sitting up and pulling out; unfortunately, you were too weak to do much with that freedom, just laying there and staring up at the ceiling as numbness chilled your extremities and fogged your mind.

“You just stay here and catch your breath,” he instructed gently as he gave you one last kiss before sitting up, readjusting his trousers and suspenders before finding his jacket on the floor to put back on. He circled the bed to look out his window into the gardens, seeming much too relaxed and satisfied with himself.

“W-Walter,” you remembered suddenly. “He’ll be looking for me.”

“Hm, doesn’t seem like it,” Sebastian frowned, “I can see him now, having quite the conversation with a fine young woman.”

“What?” you shivered, sitting up to look at him as he stared down into the yard.

“I’m looking right at him, darling. I figured you knew about his… reputation…”

You did, but you never really believed it; the papers lied about Sebastian all the time, so surely rumors about your fiancé could be just as unfounded.

“I need to go,” you decided as you jumped up off the bed, trying to cover yourself with your torn dress.

“Sweetheart,” Sebastian cooed sympathetically as he looked back at you, “where are you gonna go dressed like that? Or, should I say, not dressed like that? I know my parties can get a little wild, but we try not to have any nudity.”

You hated that he was right; you were trapped here, until you found some way to dress yourself. And frankly, leaving his room dressed in different clothes than when you came in was nearly as bad as leaving his room naked.

“I’ll get you something to wear, just give me a moment, alright?” he offered, stopping to give you a peck on the forehead before slipping out of the door and back into the party.

He took a deep breath when he shut the door behind him, closing his eyes briefly to stabilize himself before putting on a smile and rejoining his guests. A lot of people tried to stop him on his way, congratulated him on the party or asking him mundane questions, but he shrugged them all off as he continued his search for Walter Penner. He found him looking rather lost somewhere by the west wing of the house, a drink in each hand.

“Two at a time, I like your style,” Sebastian boomed as he patted Walter on the back affectionately. “The drinks, I mean. I don’t believe everything I read in the papers.”

“Good,” Walter chuckled, “because it isn’t true— about girls or drinks. The second glass is for my lovely fiancée— you haven’t seen her, have you?”

“Oh, I believe I have,” Sebastian put on a face like he was thinking about where he’d last seen her. “She was just leaving.”

“Leaving?!” Walter pshawed.

“Yes, she said she’d forgotten something she had to do and scurried out the door. I tried to stop her, but you know how she is when she gets her mind on something.”

“Hm,” Walter frowned. “I suppose I’m meant to go looking for her.”

“Take a coat, it’s cold out there,” Sebastian offered. “And if you see her, do tell her I give her my best.”

“Always,” Walter nodded, setting his drinks down and merging back into the crowd as he navigated out of the party. Sebastian hummed a little tune to himself as he made his way back to his room; he could hardly wait to see you again already, tell you all about how your unfaithful betrothed had run off with one of his more promiscuous friends, but he had to be careful not to run too fast on his bad leg. He figured you wouldn’t believe it, truly, but you’d give in to the story anyways if it was reason enough to justify your affair with him. You had a talent for accepting whatever reality served your purposes best, and he was happy to give you whatever you wanted. He figured you’d want an extravagant wedding, too; that would be easy enough.

Ascending the stairs and resting his hand on the knob to open his door, he braced himself to see you there and finally know you were his— and only his, forever. All he’d ever wanted, just on the other side of a door. If a poor boy can become a millionaire in spite of everything, and he can finally get his girl in spite of a pesky engagement, then maybe anything’s possible. It was you that had told him since he was a boy that dreams were just dreams and couldn’t come true; such a fool you were, a beautiful little fool— the best thing a girl can be, and now that you were his girl, he intended to cherish your foolishness rather than attempt to educate you. Because truthfully, you were a smart girl, and only a fool for him.

#sebastian stan x reader #dark!sebastian stan x reader #dark!sebastian stan #dark!sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan dark fic

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thefancyspin · 3 years

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16 and 20 for ballum please? 🥰💖

[misunderstanding/mutual pining, all for you sweet gemma <3)

Ben used to think he had pretty good intuition. Shaking a hand or stealing a glance or moving through a packed crowd at The Albert. He’d meet eyes with someone, and smile, and he’d just know, he’d feel it thrum in his toes. They wanted him too.

Apparently Callum Highway is an exception to the rule.

“Look at ‘im,” Ben grumbles drunkenly into his pint glass, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Jay in The Vic. Callum is here with his best friend Whitney, and even though Callum’s gay and not interested in her, Ben hates her with a fiery passion. She’s always laughing with him and touching him and getting to do all the things Ben wants to. He hates her. “I mean, who gave him the right to look so good in that uniform?”

Jay groans. “Give it a rest, mate.”

“What? It’s true. Bad enough he’s a bloody ambo, saving people's lives and being all humble about it. He’s also tall, with those shoulders, and that hair. I mean, have you ever touched it, Jay, is it as soft as it looks?”

“Why in the bloody hell would I touch his hair?”

“I donno, he worked for you for a bit.”

Jay scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, right, I’d say, well done with the dead body, Callum, now can I run me fingers through your luscious locks.”

“Yeah,” Ben gives him a shrug. “What’s wrong with that?”

Honestly, the problem isn’t just that Callum’s perfect. It’s that he shook Ben’s hand, and met his eye, and Ben felt it. Not just in his toes, but also in his bones, and also beating viciously in his chest. It was like love at first sight, if Ben actually believed in that stuff. He knew.

But then Ben asked him if he wanted to grab a drink, or get food, or come over and watch a movie, and it was always the same answer - no. Not a mean, get over yourself no, but a, that’s really kind of you but I just don’t like you that way I’m terribly sorry, I hope you don’t think badly of me, no. Always no.

Callum was like something out of a Jane Austen novel. Polite and apologetic and the kind of man you take home to meet your mum.

Which was why it didn’t make sense that Ben wanted him so badly. But Christ, he did.

“You really need to get over it,” Jay says unhelpfully. “He ain't interested.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Ben looks up miserably again, but this time when he does he catches Callum looking back. Callum gives him a soft smile, his cheeks pinking up, before ducking his head to look away. Jesus. If Ben has to endure this torture, he’s going to have to have a word with Callum about giving off the wrong signals.

“I’m gonna break the seal. Get me another, would ya?”

Ben knows he should probably just go home and give up on this day. It’s never a good time when he’s a sad drunk, feeling sorry for himself and contemplating Adele on karaoke. As he grabs some towel to dry his hands, the bathroom door swings open to reveal Callum. Ben curses to himself. It’s always worse when he’s this close up.

“Hi, Ben,” he says gently, giving Ben an awkward little wave. He’s an absolute dork, and Ben wants to climb him like a tree.

“Hey.” Ben shoves his hands in his pockets. “Good night?”

“Not bad. I’m knackered, mostly, just got off a twelve hour shift.”

“Wow, surprised you’re still standing.”

“You and me both.”

Ben gives him a sympathetic smile (what he hopes looks sympathetic and not constipated) and moves past him to escape, but then Callum’s calling him back. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t ask how you’re going.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Good.”

“I haven’t seen you around much.”

That’s because I try and avoid all the places you go so I don’t have to look at your ridiculous face, Ben doesn’t say. “Just busy with work.”

“Yeah, I know what ya mean. Well, I’ll let ya get back to ya drink, sorry, didn’t mean to keep you.”

Ben goes to reach for the door but then changes his mind and swings around again. He manages to stop Callum before he closes the stall door. “Cal, can I just say. I think you’re a great guy. And any bloke would be lucky to have you as a friend. But … but I can’t be that right now. I know that’s selfish, I’m sorry, I just need some time to get over you.”

Callum just stares at him. “What?”

“I’m only telling ya this ‘cause I know you’re just being genuine, smiling at me and making conversation. You’re a nice guy, I know you’re not playing with me feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“So … so can I just have some space for now while I move on?”

“Ben…” Callum says a little roughly, like he’s having trouble talking. He takes a few steps closer in, a hand in the air like he’s trying to reach for something. Ben wishes it were him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all the times I asked you out, for coffee, or a movie,” Ben says slowly, not sure why he has to say it out loud. Why he has to explain it.

“You were asking me out?”

“Yes!”

“But I thought you were seeing someone?”

“Who?”

“I donno. Whit said she heard you talking to Jay about some guy, and when she asked you just said it was a bloke you knew at work or something.”

Ben’s heart is hammering in his chest, his head pulsing. He doesn’t know what’s going on right now, but he does know that Callum hasn’t pushed way. Callum hasn’t said no. “I - I must have been talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes! I’ve wanted you since I got back to town, since you made that stupid joke about corpses while you were looking absolutely gorgeous in that suit, Christ,”

Ben’s not sure why he’s so surprised when Callum grabs him with two huge hands around his neck and kisses him. Probably because this is Callum Highway, and where Callum’s concerned, Ben has no common sense whatsoever.

It's an amazing kiss, somehow better than Ben ever imagined; strong and pressing and making Ben groan into it as he digs hands into Callum's hips to anchor. He's never wanted to hold onto something more in his whole life.

“But … I asked you out…” Ben says dumbly when the kiss breaks, blinking up at Callum.

He laughs, kissing Ben again, soft and fleeting. “I thought you was being a mate. And I didn’t want to be just mates either.”

"Because you like me."

"So, so much."

#ben x callum #ballum #eastenders #fic prompts #fluff prompts #fanfics

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 1 [NSFW/18+]

Chapter 2 ->

Summary: You can’t stand Frederick Chilton, but after he’s tortured and left scarred by a former patient, you are afflicted by an irrepressible desire to get him in bed.

This has been posted on AO3 for awhile, but I thought I’d post the chapters here! (Took the liberty of fleshing out the short smut a wee bit.)

2,380 words

Dr. Frederick Chilton was arrogant and unpleasant.

Everyone thought so, but most would dance around their hostility toward him with subtle digs couched in polite conversation. Not you. You weren’t shy about saying it to his face.

As he exited the courtroom doors, Dr. Chilton saw you waiting in the hall to ambush him, and braced himself for another soapbox diatribe.

Such a shame, he thought. He recalled how he had tried to make a good impression when you first met, but all his charm kept backfiring, and now you patently despised him. His failure to curry favor was nothing out of the ordinary, but unfortunately, he still had to deal with you. You were one of Crawford’s lackeys, and had made yourself inescapable since Will Graham’s arrest.

“You conniving, idiotic, condescending weasel!” you exploded upon the man with an expensive suit and gaudy cane. “How could you get on the stand and make that bullshit testimony? You don’t know anything about Will!” You withheld the fuck-you’s that time, out of professional courtesy.

He brushed you off and continued walking briskly down the hall, cane tapping on the polished floor, but you followed and walked alongside him.

“Do I need a restraining order against you?” Dr. Chilton said, bored.

You crossed your arms. “Oh, hah-hah.”

“What is it, then?” he sighed, slowing down. Trying to outpace you was more trouble than it was worth, thanks to the pinching of scar tissue in every stride. “I am extremely busy.”

“‘The confused man Will Graham presents to the world could not commit those crimes, because that man is a fiction,’” you quoted his testimony.

“Correct. Is that all?”

“Did you ever consider it’s because he didn’t commit those crimes? You know, being the only one who thinks Will is a psychopath doesn’t make you a genius, it makes you an idiot. Or do you know that, but you’ve just been pining have him locked up so you can study him?”

“Incredible. Mr. Graham has found a truly gullible fool to place under his thumb. I have never met anyone so susceptible to his manipulations. Have you ever been tested for personality disorders?” He regarded you like you were a lab rat with a lot of audacity to be squeaking at him (though to be fair, that was how he looked at almost everybody).

You burned to keep arguing, but he walked down the courthouse steps and got into an obtrusively fancy classic car. Your heart was racing. You weren’t finished with him.

*****

You seemed to be the only sane person aware that the sweet, empathetic, dog-loving Will Graham was obviously being framed, and did your best to visit him as often as possible at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

Unfortunately, that meant dealing with its chief of staff.

Every time you visited Will, you ended up clashing with that pompous buffoon and his perfectly coiffed hair. He was notorious for his unethical practices, but since rich white assholes were incapable of being fired, it was your self-appointed job to protect Will from him.

Though, recently, you had to admit two things.

One: you may have been the tiniest bit biased by your fondness for Will, and two: your feelings toward Dr. Chilton had been softening.

Not long ago, Chilton had barely survived being tortured by a former patient, Abel Gideon. The sight of him on a medical gurney cradling his own internal organs in his arms was a horror that would be burned into your brain for life. He may have been an incompetent jerk whom Gideon had every right to want revenge on, but he didn’t deserve that.

You didn’t think he would survive, but in a few weeks, like magic, he was back to play Will’s jailer, a cane in hand but no other sign of the trauma he endured.

Too little sign of the trauma he endured, honestly. After all, he was only hurt because of his own meddling—using psychic driving to convince Gideon he was the Chesapeake Ripper in order to achieve the fame and glory of having treated the Chesapeake Ripper.

But no, he was still bursting full of egotistical remarks and ambition, if a little short on organs.

“I see the experience hasn’t humbled you one bit,” you commented upon his return, when he gloated about the accolades he would receive after writing a book about Will Graham.

“Funny, it almost sounds like you wanted me to be gutted,” he retorted in a pleasantly upbeat voice with a sharp undercurrent.

His rich-boy superiority complex did make it tempting to punch him in the face… but disembowelment was going too far.

Something changed after that. It used to be that you couldn’t wait to get away from him, but now you found yourself wanting to stay and fight longer, your cheeks burning with indignation. Days you weren’t visiting Will, you went to the mental hospital to crusade against Dr. Chilton over ethics and his lack thereof, just for the excuse to see him.

The two of you exchanged cutting banter the same as always, but you found yourself being more civil... or, at least, your heated arguments felt more playful. Sure, you still called him a dirty slimeball, but now it was a friendly roast and not because you hated his (slightly damaged) guts.

It was strange. Every time you argued your heart would pound against your chest in anticipation, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Your breaking point came when you barged into his office and discovered him spying on patients’ private conversations with visitors—headphones on, feet up on his desk, holding a Montblanc fountain pen in his mouth and swirling it with his tongue.

He didn’t startle at your unexpected entrance, as a person who feels shame might do when caught in the middle of something so sleazy. He was completely unrepentant about it. Sliding a headphone off one ear and picking up a glass of top-shelf scotch from his desk, he took a slow sip, and smugly asked, “Can I help you?”

What could you say to that? You felt your face heating up, so you turned on your heel without a word, and left. You finally understood what you had been feeling.

You always took him for a coward—the type who runs crying to mommy the moment his knee gets scraped. But he’d been tortured, brutally, and still wasn’t running away. He got more than what was coming to him, but he didn’t change his manipulative psychiatric practices or grating personality at all.

As infuriating as it was… his resilience was sexy.

Like a switch was flipped, every time you sniped insults at each other, instead of picturing strangling him with his tie, you imagined blindfolding him with it, tying him to a bed and spanking him with his cane. He had the cutest way of shimmying his shoulders when he was trying to be coy about a secret, and that smarmy little crooked smile he made when he thought he was winning used to infuriate you, but now it caused an aching between your thighs.

After weeks of this, he cornered you in an empty hallway. “Do not think I haven’t noticed you are here far more often than you need to be. You didn’t even talk to Will Graham the last two occasions you paid a visit. What is it, then? What’s your angle? Keeping an eye on me for Crawford?”

“Isn’t it obvious?,” you scoffed. “I want to fuck you.”

“Huh,” he vocalized with detachment.

You’d expected him to be flustered by the bold declaration, or to jump on you immediately. Not to coldly look you up and down like you’d handed him a strange puzzle piece to analyze.

It must have been a long time since he’d been intimate, considering his reputation as a Grade A piece of shit. But apparently he wasn’t that desperate.

To be honest, you weren’t even sure what his orientation was. You may have been completely off base.

“Fascinating, really. For someone who called me… what was it? A ‘morally corrupt assclown,’ you must be in a dire state to consider propositioning me. You know, as a respected psychiatrist, I can recommend some literature on sexual dysfunctions.”

A cold, satisfied smile spread over his thin lips and you realized if your attraction was one-sided, he held all the cards. You made the mistake of delivering him a massive advantage over you, and you were going to make a fool of yourself. He was relishing the power.

There was still time to backtrack on the vulnerability you’d accidentally exposed while he was still trying to figure out if you were joking. But you were around profilers, psychiatrists, and investigators with hidden agendas all day, and you grew weary of conversations having ten layers of meaning and obfuscation.

The honest truth was, it would be nice to get laid.

“Well? Are you interested or not?” You dropped your voice and stepped closer to him, inches from his face. He smelled so clean, like hospital antiseptic and spicy aftershave. His breath hitched as your leg brushed the inside of his thigh—that’s it, that was the reaction you wanted. “Do you want to fuck me, Dr. Chilton?”

Oh, he did.

A barely audible whine rose from the back of his throat, and his hands were around your waist. “I suppose so,” he said, still a little too clinically, though a hard bob of his Adam’s apple betrayed him. His eyes met yours. They were the color of an ocean wave crashing on the beach; an honest, North Atlantic wave that you might find at Chesapeake Bay—not some perfect crystal-blue wave from a tropical paradise. “It couldn’t hurt to let off some steam.”

“Precisely,” you nodded. Just two adults doing the logical thing. That’s right. No squishy vulnerable feelings that could be used against you. Just relieving tension.

He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you hastily into the nearest unoccupied space. The door to the cramped supply closet clicked shut, and he leered at you with eyes that seemed to glow with hunger in the dark. You felt pleasantly like a small animal trapped with a wolf about to be devoured. A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine and sent heat rushing between your thighs. Before you knew it you were flipped standing with him pressed against your back, pumping into you with muffled moans—as frenzied with desperation as you’d fantasized he would be—as you braced against a metal shelf crammed with pens and packs of post-it notes.

He was strong. You had expected his suit to hide the flaccid body of a sedentary academic, fragranced of old books, but when he pulled your hips into his your body moved.

After finishing inside you with a ragged, tortured breath (barely choking back a too-vulnerable moan), he hastily zipped himself back into his pants and left you to clean yourself up on your own, without so much as a nod to ceremony or pleasantries. That was the end of that, you figured—exactly what you asked for, no more no less. Little did you know, Dr. Chilton had no intention of leaving things off at one quickie in a closet.

Before you left, he pulled you into his office and provoked you with lewd remarks about fucking you on his desk—so you knocked the clutter off it onto the floor to make room. He shrieked like a toddler as his very important papers and very expensive office décor went flying, having neither thought through the actual consequences of desk-sex nor expected you to call his bluff. His beautiful seawater eyes went wide as you pushed him back on the broad mahogany surface and climbed on top of him. Then you were riding him, chasing your climax with his well-manicured hands kneading your ass cheeks, pulling you deeper and deeper with each stroke of your hips. And still you wanted more. You wanted to fuck him into next week.

And then you were in his unreasonably lavish home, in his unreasonably, decadently oversized bed, his mouth feverishly working your heat, and you repaying him by making him come over and over until it was torture, until he could no longer hold back the whimpering sobs of pleasure as he fell apart, and he passed out from fatigue. You collapsed next to him on the bed, panting, sweating, and shaking with over-stimulation.

For a moment you considered the snoring body of an unsavory man you had exhausted into submission, lying naked and leaking fluids onto two-thousand-thread-count sheets, and briefly considered calling a cab. Then you went to the bathroom for a towel to wipe him off before curling yourself around him under the covers.

*****

Morning found you nestling in his soft light brown chest hair, tracing your fingers along the raised red scar that divided a third of his torso like an autopsied cadaver. He flinched a little when you touched it, but remained impassive. A reservoir of sympathy swelled up within you.

“You pity me. That is why you wanted to sleep with me all of a sudden,” he said, deciphering the meaning of your look. “I’m not complaining. Apparently, to be fortunate in bed requires only that one be tragically disfigured. You are drawn to wounded birds.”

The corner of your lip screwed up like you swallowed something bitter. It’s… probably not healthy to desire someone purely out of pity, but he was right. You never felt anything for him until you felt sorry for him. But that wasn’t all there was to your relationship… was it?

“The instinct to nurture and the instinct to hurt are both strong human emotions. They’re primal,” you speculated.

“Trying your hand at psychoanalysis? I would leave it to the professionals, darling.”

“Would you?” You tilted your head innocently. “Then how come you’re still practicing?”

He clutched his chest and feigned being wounded.

Grinning, you buried your face back into his hair. “Arguing with you was always exciting… trying to land a stinging blow. Now I see you hurt, and I feel the need to protect you, too. You tickle my instincts, I suppose. Like cold ice cream on hot pie. What can I say?”

“Hmm, a plausible hypothesis,” he nodded idly at the ceiling, one brow lifted. “I’m not sure that that is any better, but as previously mentioned, your motivations are not of particular interest to me.”

“Charming. Let me phrase it another way, then: You have a very punchable face, but since you’ve already been eviscerated, it takes the fun out of it.”

“Well, and I was going to offer you breakfast…”

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #Raúl Esparza #Hannibal #my writing #very excited to start the sequel sooooon!

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seiin-translations · 3 years

Text

2.43 S1 Chapter 1.4 - Young Yunichika

4. MISCONDUCT

Translation Notes

1. Bon refers to a young man from a well-to-do family

2. These are lyrics from the opening theme for the famous volleyball anime, Attack No.1

3. I know nothing about Attack No.1 so I have no idea what this is referring to. The original line is “ヒロイン訛ってるって”. If you know anything about this, let me know

4. The kanji for Meisei is 銘誠. 銘 from ��右の銘 (means favorite motto) and 誠 is pronounced makoto by itself

5. Meisei-chuu as in Meisei Middle School

Previous || Index || Next

Haijima Kimichika was an idiot. No, his grades overall weren’t that bad. He was slightly above middling for his third semester finals. However, Kuroba was dumbfounded when he saw the breakdown of that “slightly above middling.”

In regards to math and social studies, he was well above the average, and in fact, he was at the top of the class in his grade. Math, ninety-five. Social studies, ninety-nine—that was the first time he ever saw ninety-nine on an exam paper. He was taken aback by the brilliance of the two 9’s next to each other.

But, things didn’t look good from there. Science, seventy-three. English, sixty. His marks around here were so normal that it made you wonder what his high marks in math and social studies were. Apparently, his strong areas were unusually inclined towards calculation and memorization.

Japanese,

Thirty points.

…They really were unusually inclined.

“Ooh, there’s a whole row of x’s here. What a nice view.”

It was a question about close reading a novel. The answers to “What are the emotional states of the characters”-type questions were continuously absurd, and the way the x’s were written was becoming increasingly desperate, as if to represent his Japanese teacher’s emotional state.

“For the question ‘Please answer in eighty words or less why you think the king forgives Melos,’ you answered, ‘Melos was naked the cow,’. I can see the signs of suffering from trying to write a little more, but not being able to write a sentence and getting frustrated. …Cow?”

“Shut up. You’re always joking about people’s exam answers.”

“Ow ow ow!”

Kuroba groaned as he fell prostrate on the exam papers spread out between his legs with a weight pressed tightly against his back. The other club members laughed at the two stretching as a pair.

“You shouldn’t laugh at other people, Yuni. You got forty-two in math and fifty-five in social studies.”

“Hey, don’t read it aloud. This is an invasion of privacy.”

“Japanese…oh? Eighty-seven. Not bad.”

“For real?”

His back lightened with Haijima’s upset-sounding voice. He lifted his body with a self-satisfied look that said “Fufufu. Japanese is the only thing this guy’s good at,” but Haijima, who snatched and returned Kuroba’s Japanese exam paper, once again pressed down on his back tightly with his entire upper body while staring at his answers with a slightly displeased look on his face. Kuroba grumbled “Ow ow ow” while facing the floor in an open-legged forward bending position.

“Why did you answer the cow question like this? I don’t get it at all.”

“First, let go of the cow…I think the first issue is that no cows appear in the story. I’m getting worried about whether or not you can get into high school.”

He briefly wondered if one could get into school through a volleyball recommendation, but even if one could, it didn’t matter because there was no chance of their weak club reaching the point where they could get noticed in a big tournament. If Haijima was in his previous middle school, recommendations might come, however—he hadn’t asked Haijima himself, but there was no doubt that he had been in a fairly strong volleyball club with a decent coach. He had no idea what a full-scale stretching regimen was until he started practicing with Haijima. Next, Kuroba laid on his back as Haijima took his legs and thoroughly stretched them.

I thought that since Haijima would have nothing left if you took volleyball away from him, it would be his greatest desire to go to a strong volleyball school, but…

Haijima Kimichika was a volleyball fanatic.

The ban on club activities, which had been suspended a week before finals, had been lifted, and they held a practice day at once. With people turning up once they knew it was active, the boys’ volleyball team, which used to be as good as non-existent, had more or less taken on the appearance of club activities recently. With just barely six people, they still haven’t been in a match yet.

It was when they stood up and stretched their backs after finishing their brief stretching session.

“Kuroba, how tall are you now?”

Haijima said while looking up at his hair whorl.

“Hmm? Didn’t I say I was one-seventy-three?”

“When did you measure that?”

“Um…in fall, I think…November?”

He tamped down his hair whorl, but his bed hair bobbed back up. He felt depressed when he wondered if he had been exposing this hair to people all day since morning.

There was a scale on the door frame of the gym equipment room that could be used to measure height, and was used to compare heights for fun during club activities and gym class. It was probably the work of students from decades ago. It was the culmination of very precise work, with each millimeter being carved out from one-fifty to one-eighty centimeters with a utility knife.

“One-seventy-five-point-zero.”

Putting an empty powdered drink box to the top of Kuroba’s head, Haijima read the scale out loud.

“Ooh, I grew two centimeters?”

“My turn.”

They exchanged places and now it was Haijima with his back to the scale.

“Don’t raise your heels. Um, one-seventy-two-point…seven.”

“Ah. I grew too.”

But, Haijima didn’t seem too happy about it. With a sullen face, he left the scale and grumbled “Two centimeters off.”

“Two-point-three centimeters off. Don’t round it down. You’re a setter, so you don’t have to be so worried about your height, right?”

“I have a favorite player. It’s Abe, who was selected for the national team. He’s a setter, but he’s one-ninety-one. Even for setters, the bigger you are, the better you block and the faster you set. And, Abe’s ambidextrous, and he has a good left dump.”

“Huh? That reminds me, do you also…”

Haijima served with his left hand. But which hand did he hit with outside of those times...he didn’t have a clear impression. He felt like he recalled him hitting with his left and with his right.

“Use both hands?”

“I do,” He said carelessly, but was that something so easy to do? “There’s still an eighteen-centimeter difference, huh… But Abe can’t hit jump serves, so once my height catches up, I’ll be better.”

When it came to the subject of volleyball, Haijima became more talkative than usual. The way he spoke was basically like cutting short the front part of the context and throwing away the back end, but he came to be able to speak fairly long lines in a polite manner. He must love it a lot, he thought in half amazement and half admiration.

“I’m not sure if you have way too much confidence in yourself or is just an idiot…but I never thought you’d compare yourself to a member of the national team.”

He forced a smile, and got glared at with resentful eyes. He got scared, wondering if he said something that made him angry. He still wasn’t very good at knowing what set Haijima off.

“Kuroba, at the practice game, you see blocks and differentiate between hitting the ball cross and straight, right?”

“Cross-court and straight…oh, straight is where you hit the ball right down the middle, and cross is where you twist a little and hit it outside.”

“It’s the other way around, dumbass.”

He had answered with hand gestures while tilting his head to the side in confusion, but was completely denied with an insult.

“A cross is a spike that passes through the court at an angle. A straight is a spike that goes straight and parallel to the sidelines. When you’re hitting on the front row, you tend to step towards the center in front of the net a lot, so if you hit it straight on, it becomes a cross, and if you hit it with the intention to twist it outside, it will be straight.”

“So complicated…”

“It’s not that complicated, but…oh well. I’ll teach you step by step.”

He thought “Teach me?” every time, but why was he naturally acting like he was above him?

“Even if you don’t understand it with your head, you have good eyes, so you can deal with blocks. Being able to naturally rotate your trunk midair, the length of your time in the air, the suppleness of your shoulders…those are qualities you’ve probably always had. You will get good. It’ll be in no time if you do it properly. You’ll be taller, too.”

“…? Do you have a fever?”

He stared at Haijima’s face suspiciously and got a suspicious look in return.

“What. Did I say something weird?”

“No, it’s just that you’re always so self-important, so I thought you were someone who wouldn’t praise or acknowledge people in that way.”

“If there’s something to acknowledge, then of course I’m gonna acknowledge it. But, there’s no way to acknowledge what’s not there.”

Haijima stated, pouting and seeming truly upset.

Haijima never flattered. He wasn’t humble. He couldn’t hold himself back. Indeed, he might be sincere and straightforward in a sense. …But, he thought it was probably a tough way to live. Most people didn’t want to be told the truth right to their faces.

“You will get good.”

Afterwards, slowly but steadily, a ticklish feeling welled up in the depths of his body. It was uncool to take someone at their word, so he purposely looked indifferent and said,

“I have a talent for volleyball, huh. It won’t make me all that popular though.”

He feigned ignorance and talked big. Unlike Haijima, he felt like he had been drifting through life frivolously, with a bunch of façades lined up in front of him, obscuring reality.

***

The days have become longer, and the chill had subsided considerably. It was now often possible to sneak peeks at patches of blue in the sky which had been covered by depressing snow-laden clouds in midwinter. The sun had completely set when he nearly ran over Haijima in front of that karaoke box in February, but by mid-March, there was still some faint light left in the sky at that same time of day. A rusty copper sunset fringed the ridgelines of Mount Nokude in the distance.

Since their houses were in the same direction, he ended up going home with Haijima on days they had club activities. Their enamel bags, slung over their shoulders, rattled, and they tread on the rugged road in their snow boots. Although the snow on the road melted during the day and was close to becoming sherbet, it had begun to freeze again in the shape of punched-through car ruts and footprints. During the snowfall season from December to March, elementary and middle school students were prohibited from cycling to school, so it took forty minutes to get there on foot. There was no doubt that they would starve before they reached home, so the two stuffed their cheeks with sweet bread as they walked. Incidentally, he stuffed himself with two pieces of bread before club and of course he was going to eat dinner when he got home. At any rate, he was hungry. And at any rate, he was sleepy.

Until one or two months ago, he would have wanted to skip over middle school and become a high school student as soon as possible, but come to think of it, he had stopped thinking about that recently. He had no time to think about superfluous things because after he finished club activities, went home, ate, and took a bath, he immediately went to bed. He fell asleep feeling like he was sinking into the floor with his futon, and then when he woke up, it was next morning.

Finals were over, and now it was time to neglect everything and go into spring break. And whether he left it alone or made a fuss, once the break ended, he would become a third-year. The word examinee still didn’t really strike home for him.

“Haijima, what are you gonna do for high school? Are you taking it here?”

He finally broached the subject that actually wanted to ask him about during club, but hesitated over.

“Well, I was thinking of taking it here, but…”

He got stuck on how Haijima trailed off at the end of his sentence, which was unusual for him.

“But? Is there a condition or something?”

He once again asked Haijima’s profile, which was bulged out with the bread he stuffed in his mouth. He wasn’t wearing his glasses right now. Haijima always followed the procedure of putting in contact lenses and taping his hands before club started. If he taped first, he wouldn’t be able to handle his contacts. When club activities were finished, he followed that procedure in reverse, but there were days when he went home as he was, perhaps because he couldn’t be bothered. From the point of view of Kuroba, whose vision had never fell below 20/20 and whose fingernails and bones seemed healthy and strong, he had a difficult constitution.

“More importantly, new first-years will come in April.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Skilled guys would get picked up by the other clubs, so it’s better not to get your hopes up, but maybe we can get one or two people.” More importantly? He had a feeling he was changing the subject, but the timing to repeat the question escaped him.

“If we get more members, I wanna go to a tournament. I don’t know the tournament schedule here, but there should be a prefectural tournament before the summer inter-school.”

“Tournament, huh. But even if we can be in it, I don’t think we can win at our level…”

“It’s no fun if you don’t play a game. I wanna be in a match. I’m gonna train you all to be presentable enough by summer. I’ll take care of the rest.” Once again, he said that he was gonna train us without hesitation. Is he treating us like performing monkeys or something?

Ah, there it was. The sparkle in his eyes like that of a dinosaur-loving elementary schooler. Though he was just being arrogant and saying something self-centered, when he had that look in his eyes, he couldn’t help but feel that it was as though it was being secretly switched with something of pure purpose. Kuroba realized that he couldn’t oppose those eyes at all.

“Ooookay, got it. We need an advisor to be in a tournament or it’s no good, right? Let’s ask tomorrow.”

When he said that with a sigh, a crude voice called out to them from the side of the road.

“Hey, isn’t that the head house’s bon walking there?” (1)

It came from in front of the signboard of the aforementioned “Karaoke Box Monshiro”. Was this the only place to hang out? Well, it probably was. There were three men. Two 125cc motorbikes and one moped. Each of them was sitting astride their seats and hanging their butts on their tandem grips, smoking cigarettes as they tucked their chins inside their collars of their jackets, looking cold. They had the appearances of what countryside delinquents should be.

“Oh, Yori-chan!”

Kuroba called out to him with a smile, but Yorimichi only took a glance at his appearance and looked away.

The other two were Yorimichi’s senpais, both from the neighborhood. When someone other than his relatives called him the “head house’s bon”, it was probably filled with ridicule, but since he was used to it, he didn’t react to it every single time, and Kuroba greeted them in a friendly manner as well.

“’Sup. It’s been a while. I didn’t know you guys are back.”

“It’s spring break in uni too. Bon, how much you got today?”

“Oh…I only have some coins. I’ve been doing club activities lately so there’s a lot of times when I’d be leaving my bag alone.”

“’Club activities’?”

The two repeated it with a rising inflection that contained laughter.

“Oh, is that what Yorimichi was talking about?”

Smirking, they eyed Kuroba from the top of his head to his feet. He uncomfortably let his gaze escape to Haijima, who was waiting next to him. When he looked at Haijima, he could see his own appearance like he was looking into a mirror, or rather, he was just copying Haijima, but—he was wearing a knee-length padded coat over his jersey with his rectangular enamel sports bag slung over his shoulder, and he really did look like he was coming back from a sports club. In regards to the padded coat, Kuroba saw Haijima’s and also bought one recently.

“You do receives or something, how did that go again? We didn’t do it in gym in high school, so I completely forgot.”

The two had mean smiles on their faces, pointing their chins. Either the smoke of their cigarettes or the whiteness of their breath from the cold made their stubbled mouths misty.

“Um, it’s like this, I guess…?”

Kuroba had no choice but to drop his hips on the spot and did the posture for an underhand pass, and the two cackled and applauded.

“Wow, looking pretty good, aren’t you? I know, it’s that thing, Attack No.1, right?”

“That old manga? It’s that ‘I won’t cry, I’m just a girl’ thing, right?” (2)

“The heroine spoke in dialect. Gyahahaha!” (3)

“Haha…”

When Kuroba forced a smile while feeling his face turning hot, his bag was suddenly pulled on. The strap was biting into the pit of his stomach. “Gueh,” he groaned as he turned around.

“Haijima?”

“You’re just getting looked down on. We’re not playing around. Don’t keep them company.”

Like he was pulling on the leash of a not particularly disciplined dog, Haijima primly started walking while gripping the strap. “Okay, okay, don’t pull me. It’s dan…” Right when he twisted his body around and rushed to follow him,

“You’re hanging out with us, right, Yuni?”

Yorimichi called out to his back.

Haijima turned around, not even trying to hide his annoyance. Kuroba also followed his gaze while feeling lost. Turning away and smoking his cigarette, Yorimichi snorted sarcastically.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting’ influenced by Fighting Spirit Chika-chan, are ya? You’re the one who’s gonna be embarrassed later.”

“Hey…oh, hey Yori-chan, are you mad at me? Sorry for not hanging out with you lately. We’ll do stuff together during spring break.”

“Kuroba, we’re practicing during spring break too.”

Haijima’s dissatisfied sounding voice pierced the back of his ear. “We can’t practice everyday, right?” When he turned around with a half-smile, his face seemed to say, As a matter of fact, of course we are. “If we’re going to the summer tournament, we’ll still never make it in time even with that.” “Are you serious…” He was of course ready to have fun and relax during spring break, so when he was told to be prepared to completely spend that time on club activities… I underestimated this guy’s volleyball obsession.

“Yuuuuni. You understand, right? It’s no good for you. It’d be less embarrassing if you stop playing around. I ain’t patient either, so I can’t wait too long for you.”

“Hey, even Yori-chan’s being mean? You’re not serious, right?”

He looked at Yorimichi again with a twitching smile. “Oh, you’re pretty popular, Bon. If you pick one, you have to cut off the other. This is a real mess.” The two university students irresponsibly jeered and aggravated the situation.

“You, you get it, right? I have the same blood in my veins as you, so we get fired up and cooled off easily. I’ll probably get bored halfway, right?”

He ended up prioritizing putting Yorimichi in a good mood with a joking tone. A cold sweat ran down the nape of his neck as he felt Haijima’s burning gaze scorching it.

He knew that he was playing it safe. He was still afraid now that Yorimichi would throw him away. He wanted to secure the warm place he could always return to if things got tough. Don’t put me together with you, he grumbled in his mind. Haijima, who didn’t have an ounce of doubt about himself doing volleyball, probably wouldn’t understand, but for us until just now, guys who went hardcore for club activities were just something to be watched from a distance and gawked at.

Yorimichi bared his teeth and grinned.

“Haha, that’s right. You’re the same as me.”

Relieved, Kuroba also slackened his cheeks.

And, the heat wave of Haijima’s gaze that was burning the back of his neck also abruptly disappeared. The strap was released to send him flying.

“Then quit now.”

Haijima said it bluntly in a cold voice, a complete reversal from the heat of earlier.

“Hey, no need to go that far…”

“I don’t want to the tournament to get messed up.”

“Messed up…”

He immediately guessed that he was talking about scandals that would result in a suspension. Kuroba himself didn’t smoke or drink, but he overlooked Yorimichi doing it. It wasn’t illegal to ride double on a bike, but having only one helmet was probably not allowed. It wasn’t a good look to sneak into karaoke bars either. He didn’t really care about it until now, but it was somewhat understandable that school sports were sensitive to those kinds of issues.

Haijima’s concern was reasonable, and perhaps this was where he should be sorry. But on the contrary, antagonism reared its head. So, from the beginning, he wasn’t worried about whether or not Kuroba would continue to do volleyball or not, but about that?

“You showed your true colors, eh!”

Yorimichi’s loud voice suddenly rang out. Haijima glared suspiciously at him and Kuroba was also confused. Peeling his lips back in a vicious grin that made him draw back a little, Yorimichi continued to speak in a theatrical way.

“The infamous ‘Genius Setter’ of Meisei Middle School only thinks about satisfying his own desires, right?”

“Yori-chan? What are you talking about?”

“You were the one who wanted to know, Yuni. You asked why he came back here. That’s why I investigated.”

Haijima’s sharp gaze immediately moved to Kuroba. He did voice his doubts, but he thought the conversation ended there, so to think that Yorimichi would investigate it…

“Oops, you’re barking up the wrong tree if you’re blaming Yuni. It’s that ‘you reap what you sow’ kind of thing, right?”

Yorimichi came down from his bike and stepped on his cigarette to put it out. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his down jacket and approached him with bowlegs and swinging shoulders, looking particularly vulgar. “Move, Yuni,” he said, pushing Kuroba aside and standing before Haijima.

“I could have easily gotten the name of your school from your grandpa through mine. Well, I used Itoko though, since I’ve been given up on by Gramps. So when I quickly searched the net…oh look, there’s slander of the ‘Genius Setter’ who reigned over Meisei Middle until last year. The net sure is terrifyin’. Everything’s on there. Well, I guess it means you’re not liked very much.”

The more Yorimichi talked, the stiffer Haijima’s expression became. The color disappeared from Haijima’s face that seemed to embody the world’s arrogance and fearlessness, and his gaze dropped downwards. The shadow of Yorimichi, who was a size bigger in height and width, hung over the head of Haijima, who was looking down and biting his lower lip. “Oi oi, look at the poor guy, Yorimichi. Don’t bully middle schoolers. You’ll make him cry.” The two university students saying insincere things were completely taking the role of spectators.

“Yuni.”

“Huh? Y-yeah.”

Kuroba reflexively responded, unable to catch up with the conversation very well. Yorimichi’s face changed from that of someone tormenting a dying animal, and when he turned around, he was no longer smiling. It was an extremely serious expression.

“I don’t have anything against Chika, but I don’t really care. I think it’s petty to talk about other people behind their backs online. It’s all for you. Don’t get too absorbed in it. After all there was apparently someone who attempted suicide because of this guy——”

An instant later, Haijima barked something that couldn’t be expressed in words and grabbed Yorimichi. “Oh?” Although Yorimichi staggered a little, their physiques and amount of fight experiences were different. He grabbed Haijima’s face and thrust it aside, just like he was grabbing a ball—a dodgeball instead of a volleyball—with one hand and throwing it violently. Haijima was lightly blown off two or three meters away, the side of his face crashing into the muddy snow-covered road.

Because it was the first time he heard Haijima’s enraged voice, Kuroba was temporarily distracted by that. He hurriedly broke into Yorimichi’s path.

“Yo-Yori-chan, stop! Violence is no good!”

“He was the one who charged at me. Ah, it’d be no good for a sports boy to be violent, right? Didn’t you say that yourself? I’m being kind by ending it with just knocking him down.”

Yorimichi threw mocking jeers at Haijima over Kuroba’s shoulder. Kuroba turned around and ran up to Haijima, who was crouching and holding his hand to his face. “Oi, you’re alive…” he knelt down and was about to touch his shoulder, but what Yorimichi said flashed across his mind and he stopped his hand.

…Attempted suicide…?

“Let’s go back. My ass is frozen.”

Urging the two university students, Yorimichi returned to his bike.

“Yuni, get over here.”

Summoned, Kuroba looked up at the chin of Yorimichi, who was sitting astride his bike, but hesitated and returned his gaze to Haijima. His earlobe, which was poking out from the gaps between his hair, were terrifyingly white. No way, is he actually dead? He thought, but he saw a fist clenching the snow underneath his face pressed against the ground. Mud soaked into his white taping and stained it brown.

He couldn’t leave him here and go home.

“Even if you say go home, you won’t let me ride double anyways. I’ll send him home, okay?”

“Well, whatever.”

Yorimichi backed down easily with just a shrug of his shoulders. The sneering had already disappeared and he returned to his normal self.

“Don’t forget. Wash your hands of him as soon as possible. From his reaction, it doesn’t seem like those are groundless rumors. Be careful on your way home. I’m talking about the snowy roads and your teammate next to you.”

Perhaps Yorimichi also felt that he went a bit too far. He awkwardly turned his face away, made his engine roar its usual crude and vulgar sounds, and departed on the Komashi-gou.

***

“Mei from zayuu no mei and makoto, Meisei. (4) It’s called Meisei Private Academy Middle School. It’s a middle and high school in one, and their sports clubs are pretty strong. Apparently the distribution map of famous private schools is common knowledge among Kanto kids. You can’t really experience it here, can you? There aren’t enough schools to choose from. Hey, everyone’s gonna hang out in the city after the end-of term ceremony, so do you wanna come with us? I wonder if Haijima would come if we invited him. You guys have been getting along well lately.”

“Um, oh, yeah. If that’s all I can ask then I’m good for now. Thanks.”

He hung up first because it seemed like the conversation would never end if he left it alone.

Itoko said “Everyone”, so the group probably included girls. To tell the truth, he was really jealous of this merry spring break-like event. Normally he wouldn’t be able to refuse. But, it was only today that he couldn’t get into the mood at all. He was willing to bet that Haijima would never come either.

He put the phone handset next to the desk and turned towards the computer again. Since he had an agreement to not own a cell phone until high school, the only place he could access the Internet at home was the laptop in his dad’s study. When he tried to convert Meisei-chuu (5), he realized he didn’t know the kanji for it, and since Yorimichi said he learned it by way of Itoko, he called to ask her directly. Based on the current feeling, Yorimichi had really only gotten the school name, and it seemed he didn’t tell Itoko more than that. He felt relieved about that.

A school with a strong athletic department. If this school was that famous, then it might not be strange for there to be a rumor or two to float around the Internet. After all, there was even a message board titled “[Monshiro Town] Old Man Kuroba [Yokai]”—Yorimichi thought it was hilarious and told him about it, but Kuroba never searched for it because he was scared of learning the contents.

“Tokyo meisei academy middle school boys volleyball club attempted suicide”

He entered the search words, and just when he was about to click the search button, his finger stopped. He couldn’t easily press the key. Of course he was unbearably curious. But, he was afraid to find out the contents for that more than Grandpa’s message board.

“Yuni? Where are you?”

His mother’s voice came from somewhere on the other side of the sliding screen door. He twisted himself around on the tatami chair and raised his voice.

“In here! The study!”

“Why are you there? Aren’t you going to take a bath?”

“Okay!”

After thinking about it a little bit, he ended up pressing the backspace key to delete everything he typed in. Once he did so, he completely gave up, closed the computer and stood up.

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#2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43 book 1 #2.43 translation

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marvelatthehottotties · 4 years

Text

James Buchanan Barnes - Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for taking a peak at this! Don’t be afraid to give us feed back! Co-written by @keliza

Prologue Masterpost for the series

Warnings: Second hand embarrassment, bullying, sketchy frat dudes

Words: 3,092

A college freshman. Once again, the low end of the food chain. The bottom rung. Things tended to cycle like that, so you could stay humble. It was your job to learn from it and realize that there was no such thing as the top of the food chain. There was always going to be someone higher than you whether you realized it or not. The end of elementary school was the high end. Then it was middle school. Then high school. A never ending cycle that continued on. Once you finished college it would be you planting right back into the workforce on the bottom rung, like swimming upstream.

Everyone was just a salmon, hopping those little waterfalls. The only issue was you were scared to jump every time that jump happened. You could see the waterfalls were so close and everyone was jumping. But you could also see the shadows of those grizzlys looming, waiting with open mouths to crush you and devour you. Bears didn’t care if you were a big or a small fish, which made being a small fish especially hard.

This was an exhausting process, but the fear of being left behind made you jump finally and you were free to swim again, comfortable now that the bridge was crossed.

And here you were, this waterfall had appeared much faster than you had expected.

Peter had dragged you to a college party. Apparently, he knew some of the people, which honestly blew you away as the majority of the kids here weren’t kids at all. Everyone here looked like they had credentials, like they were legally allowed to drink, not just kegging to get the alcohol.

Peter. The scrawny pipsqueak that had grown up next door. The one your mother loved and your father hoped would one day be his son. Peter and you wouldn’t love each other like that. He’d always eyed the popular cheerleader. The perky homecoming queen. And you…. Well you just couldn’t tear yourself away from the fantasy men in your novels. You were rarely attracted to people. Well, real people anyway. The kind you had a chance with.

This battlefield was different. You need to jump this waterfall and just swim on but the anxiety of not knowing anyone was creeping up your throat.

“Excuse me,” an enormous, sculpted man with an accent chirps. He flashes you a flirty smile as he slides around you. In your horror (had your eyes seriously deceived you?), you stumble backward and away from the punch table, careful not to bump into the couple unabashedly making out in the corner.

The man’s arms rippled as he made a few drinks and quickly returned the way he came, shooting you another overly friendly smile. A horde of drunk girls squealed as he returned to them, passing off the second drink to a dark haired guy nearby and the girls converged like vultures on him.

You glanced around. The couple nearby wasn’t quite as desperate as the highschool students in their antics. It was softer, looked tastier. You darted your gaze away, feeling like you were intruding. Where was Peter, he’d been in the bathroom an awful long time now.

The pit of nervousness was filling you, sinking harder as it grew in your gut. You looked about for anything familiar, struggling to find something.

The Stark house was something straight out of a magazine. Perfect for the well off lawyer and his family in town. Nothing like your own family home. Soft and quaint, quiet even. This was loud and sharp and modern. It was too cold to be familiar in the way you wanted. It offered no comfort.

Neither did these older people. Most of them couldn’t be more than five years older but you still managed to feel out of place. Like a child at a PTA meeting. You wanted to go home so badly, but Ned, who’d driven, also seemed to be missing.

“Looking for a drink?” Someone asked, you glanced, because it was loud enough to hear over the music. You were surprised, however, to see a stranger making direct eye contact. A tall, dark and handsome guy with a crooked nose and an even more crooked smile. It made your gut drop nervously.

“No, thank you,” you managed, politely. “Just waiting on my friends.” Your hands tighten harshly on your purse strap as the guy steps closer.

“You sure? I’m making one myself, it’s no trouble.”

“That’s kind, but I'm the designated driver, can’t drink,” you lie. The guy gives a shrug at you.

“Are you even old enough? To drive? You look pretty young.” You give a non committal shrug and start glancing around, praying that Ned and Peter would appear. This man was making your skin crawl and you think it might be better to look for an out.

Nearby there are some college guys spinning someone in a desk chair. The kid looked like he was gonna be sick. Plenty of hollering sounds as he does hurl and give a drunken smile after.

“Ew,” the girl from the couple behind you hisses. So, she’d managed to notice as well. She grabs his hand and drags him away, leaving you with the dark haired guy.

“Brock,” the guy offers, and moves closer. You dance away a bit, uncomfortable with how close he now was. “Hey, sorry. I’m not some bad guy, just making conversation.” He doesn’t step back. Dread is sinking in your gut and you pick anxiously at the sleeve of your sweater.

“I should go look for my friends,” you start, voice dropping to prevent from it shaking.

The guy takes a step towards you, and you do the only thing you can think of as alarm fills you. You were not well known for being bold. You dart quickly only to knock into someone else so hard you nearly tumble back. You’re terrified as you look up into the face of another man. His eyes are hard as he glances over you quickly, then they dart to the guy directly behind you.

“Brock,” rolls a voice from the guy who’s hands are now on your waist, steadying you. Despite the casual way he says the name, it’s got a warning to it. “Why are you over here trying to scare girls?” He was helping you?

“I was just going to come looking for you,” you blurt before he’s even done speaking. Glancing up at this man, hoping he’d roll with your lie and focusing less on the fact that his hands were so warm. He adjusted immediately.

“Steve’s around here somewhere. Sorry for leaving you. Do you want to go sit?” He asks. His hands resting ever so gently on your shoulders now. You nod.

“Ain’t she a little young for you, Barnes?”

“My cousin is none of your business, Rumlow.” Brock looks pissed as he locks his jaw. You grasp the new man’s hand hard and without any hesitation, he leads you toward the stairs. “Let’s get some air on the upstairs patio, kiddo.”

Kiddo! Kiddo! Your savior thinks he saved a kid! Not a damsel? This was straight out of a romance novel and the lead (who was incredibly handsome) just called you his cousin and kiddo. Oh, but he smelled like motor oil, and that made your toes curl.

God was cruel.

“I’m eighteen,” you interject as he drags you up the stairs. When he flashes you a smile you catch your toe on a step and nearly die on those stairs. The guy hooks an arm under you to drag you up, however. Your cheeks heat as mortification fills you. But he’s so close…

“Mhmm. Focus on one foot at a time, okay?”

Kill me.

And you manage to make it up the stairs without too much more trouble. He navigates around the bodies with ease, meandering away. Finally, he arrives out on a balcony with you. A few people linger around. You took a moment to take him in. Hair pulled up in a little bun on the back of his head, a wide jaw, cute nose and cool blue eyes. Not to mention he had grease streaked on his arm. Whatever vehicle he was working on before this, he hadn’t showered between and it gave him a delightful metal smell. Complete with his tattered tee shirt and stained jeans and boots, he looked like he’d rolled right out of a novel.

“You’re gone five minutes and you’ve already got a girl?” Someone sighs. You snap your eyes to a tall, slim kid who’s lounging on one of the designer patio chairs. He brushes some of his soft blond hair from his eyes.

You were suddenly aware that you were still clinging to this poor man’s hand like my life depended on it. “Ah! Sorry, I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-”

“Relax, doll, you’re okay,” he chirped and lead me over. “This is Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” You greet meekly. “Thanks for getting me out of there but I should be heading to find my friends Peter and Ned,” You try to excuse.

“Getting her out of there?” Steve repeats, and his awkward expression regresses into a stone cold one.

“Yeah, Rumlow’s ass was harassing her. Meet my cousin. I’m adopting her.” Your cheeks flare. Worse than being friend zoned. I swear.

“Brock?” Steve repeats, eyes flaring.

“Sit your ass down, Steve, it’s taken care off. Why don’t you sit down with us?” The last part is directed at you. “Your friends can come find you.” You almost deny it, but your savior… you want to learn more about him.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you offer.

“Non-sense,” Steve calls. “Sit.” You slowly sink down on a patio sofa, your hand relaxed in the guys hold. You notice the twitch of thick muscle beneath his shirt as he moves to settle beside you.

“So, what’s your name?” The cute guy asks.

“(Y/N),” you answer.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bucky.” Your heart flutters uncomfortably in your belly. It was rare you reacted this way, but he’d been so kind. When Bucky settles beside you, his knee pressed against yours and you’re so caught up by it you don’t notice the knowing look Steve passes to Bucky. Or the grin that Bucky sends back to him.

“Have you graduated?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, I start at Avalon College this fall, do you guys go there?”

“Stevie does, I don’t.”

The casual conversation ate away at the wild adrenaline that sunk your gut. The nervousness easing in the presence around. Only the bitter awkwardness was gaining on you.

“So, what do you do?” Bucky glances down at the front of his tee shirt and you catch the name of the local mechanic shop. When he looks back at your embarrassed face, he flashes an amused grin and throws an arm over your shoulder. Being so close to the warmth of him. “Mechanic?” You manage to squeak. How had you not noticed the bright white lettering on his black shirt. It hid the grease stains pretty well. Probably do to his pearly white smile, or his sinful smirk.

He threw an ankle over his lap and twisted. “Yes, ma’am. What are you studying at school?” It felt so intimate how close he was leaning in.

“Uh, undecided,” you offer. When you glance at Steve, he’s trying to hide his big grin, warm eyes gentle on you.

“What are you doing at a party like this, it doesn’t seem like your normal scene.” He asks.

“My friends Peter and Ned dragged me with them. I’m usually the third wheel. To be honest they may have forgotten I’m here.” Steve frowns at me. “I guess Peter got invited by Tony earlier this week.”

“They don’t sound like very good friends,” Bucky rumbles, eyes narrowed coldly. It makes you gulp and retreat into the cushions a bit.

“No! They’re wonderful. They support me as much as I support them. They’re just easily distracted, you know?” Bucky still frowns at this answer and shakes his head.

“And leave you alone long enough that Rumlow starts to follow you.” You shift uncomfortably.

“You know, I’m going to grab a drink,” Steve offers awkwardly. “Do you want anything? Water? Juice?” He asks you.

“Uh, juice if they’ve got it,” you reply. He stands and leaves, not bothering with Bucky’s. You try to push the thought behind you. That he’s getting you something non-alcoholic for you. You teeter between grateful, and irritated. Was he doing it because they thought of you as a kid or because he wanted to make sure you weren’t taken advantage of?

You start to squirm away from Bucky a bit, as Steve leaves. “I’m gonna check my phone real quick,” you offer. He gestures for you to go ahead and watches as you drag it from your back pocket.

“Hey, Bucky!” You hear someone call. Light and airy, like a goddess. You lift your head from the lock screen to see a gorgeous blonde, approaching. Legs looking extra long in her leggings and heels.

“Hey, Lindsey,” You don’t like the twitchy nature she inspires in Bucky. His hand twitches by your shoulder, like he almost dragged it away as he moved to sit up straighter. Apparently he thinks twice about this move and sinks into a more natural position. She’s not even looking at him as she struts toward the chair on the other side of him.

A little voice nags in your head. They have history. You can see in the way he tries to act nonchalant. If you hadn’t seen that nervous (or eager, you can’t quite tell) shift, then you wouldn’t be able to tell. He keeps his voice even and his eyes never waver. You admired him silently for being able to hold his nervousness at bay like this.

“Who’s your little friend?” She smiles sweetly, a perfect facade to her real intentions. You briefly wondered if she was being sincere but the wording made your brain stutter with hesitation.

Bucky took a short intake of breath that you could feel against his shoulder as he switched from lounging next to you, to tucking you against his ribs. His expression chilled to something akin to the one he gave Brock downstairs. “What do you want?” He rumbles, voice still even. Her face flutters a bit, not expecting his reaction.

“Wha- excuse you? I was being polite!”

“No, you’re being passive aggressive. What do you want?” Her expression sours from offence.

“I came by to talk to you, James,” she hisses the name and it only makes him roll his eyes at her. “Rumlow said she’s your cousin. Looking a little comfortable there to be a cousin.”

“You always listen to what Rumlow says, Linz?” He didn’t bat an eyelash even though you were squirming uncomfortably. She turns her eyes on you, they burn into your soul.

“Can you give us a minute, hon? You’re kind of intruding on a private conversation.” Her hand drifts closer, reaching toward Bucky’s knee.

“Me?” You squeak. You wish it’d been hissed out but your lack of confrontation, shoved you down. Never in your life had you felt so offended. Were there really girls like this still?

Bucky’s hand tightens over your shoulder and his ankle slips from his knee. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s sitting straighter now as you’re practically crushed to his side. His hand would be more exciting if the pettiness you feel rising in you wasn’t so raw. “Yes, you.”

“No, not her,” Bucky rumbles low. “She’s not going anywhere if she doesn’t want to.” To spite her, you deliberately bite back nervousness and place a hand on his thigh, near his knee. You hope it looks natural enough. You think it does as her hand falls away from where it hung in the air.

“I don’t want to,” you promise, your voice still soft. You cannot believe you’re being this bold.

“This is between us!”

“She was here first.”

“Fine,” she sighs, and moves. She turns towards Bucky more. It sends a bolt of unease through you. “James, I wanted to talk about getting back together with you. Don’t tell me you don’t want to, too.”

“Lindsey,” he states, and for a moment, you fear he will cave. His arms draw away from you, he leans close to her. “After this, you can go fuck yourself.” He says softly. Too softly. He’s mocking her. A little thrill floats through you. Amazed at how good this felt. She shoots a shocked look at him. Then you. Then she became furious.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES! YOU’RE A FUCKING PIG!” She squeals in absolute outrage. As she flies to her feet. He tilts back against the cushions, expression ever cool. You couldn’t read him at all. “I’M SO SICK OF YOU TREATING ME LIKE SHIT! SHE’S LIKE FIFTEEN! THERE IS NO WAY SHE’S FUCKING LEGAL!” She twists towards you and on reflex you snatch up Bucky’s hand and squeeze tight. “Don’t worry, he’ll break your heart and leave you just like the rest of us, sweetie.”

“That’s nice,” you manage to squeak. She fumes, deciding to storm away, you hear her as she flies down the stairs, screeching insults along the way. “Wow,” you whisper to Bucky, flushing from the onlookers. Your savior snorts and bursts into laughter.

“Sorry about her,” he chuckles. “Guess we're even now, kiddo.”

“Does that mean I have to leave now?” You ask.

“No! No, you can stay as long as you want.” He shoots you a beaming smile.

“There won’t be any more exes, right?” You ask, only half joking. The mechanic throws his arm over your shoulder and tugs you against him, ruffling your hair playfully.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). I’ve got your back. You’re too pure to let anyone bully you but me.” You peek up at your new crush in surprise.

“Yeah, but wait until the rumor mill gets ahold of the fact that we’re cousins and lovers,” you shoot back.

“Ah, fuck ‘em. Haven’t you heard, incest is in right now.” And his wink flutters your heart even as his words disgust you. This reminds you vaguely of the uncomfortable crush you had as a child on a distant cousin. The crush that you only ever spoke of once to Peter… when you were drunk. This crush would never be more than that, but for now, you’d let Bucky tug you a little closer than necessary, forgetting to check your phone all together.

tagging: @tomisbaeholland

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #college au #bucky au #avengers #the avengers #avengers au #modern #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky/reader

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sammiexwtf · 4 years

Text

DIO Sounds About Right

Hi please enjoy my shitty JJBA fic (You can find it on AO3 and Wattpad with the same name) NSFW

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“Giorno I am so sorry that you haven’t been on good terms with your father practically since your birth, but I am NOT failing this project just because you want to avoid him,” You huffed. The blonde man on your phone screen shot you an annoyed look, which most likely mirrored the one on your own face.

“I don’t know why you’re so damn adamant on staying at my house to finish this project Y/N. I’ve already stayed over at your place countless of times and as a plus you’re closer to the library, we could just walk over when we need to,” Giorno let out a deep sigh as he leaned against his bed frame. “You know how I get when he’s around and since his business trip was cancelled he’ll be here for the whole weekend.”

“Look Gio, I know you try and avoid him as much as possible and I’m not clueless about your feelings towards him,” you mumbled with a small frown. “It’s just that my roommate is planning on using the apartment for one of her ridiculous parties and we’re not going to have any peace for our work if you come over here. Besides, even if your dad is going to be home all weekend you always tell me he locks himself in his study, so it’s not like we’re going to be graced with his presence anyways.”

“Still it’s just the simple thought of being under the same roof as him that’s bothering me. Plus, I don’t think you’ve even met my dad, so you wouldn’t really understand why I’m so against it.”

“You make it sound like he’s some sort of monster, maybe we should start calling him Count Dracula or something.” Your friend snorted at your stupid joke, trying to hide his smile by turning his face away from the screen.”Either way you won’t be completely alone with him if I’m there, and I know you wouldn’t be able to put up with a bunch of drunk college girls trying to get you into their panties.” At your last remark the blonde made a look of disgust and knew that you basically won the argument. If there was one thing that bothered Giorno the most, it was those self proclaimed ‘fans’ of his that were scattered throughout the university that you both attended, your roommate being one of them. Trying to avoid their affections while they were drunk would cause him even more displeasure than usual.

“Fine then. I’ll text you the address.” You couldn’t hide your excitement as you jumped out of bed to start packing your bag. This would be the first time going over to Giorno’s house since you’ve met him, and you weren’t going to waste any time if he decided to change his mind last minute.

“Alright I’ll see you soon then. Bye Giogio!”

“I told you not to call me that!” You playfully stuck your tongue out at the blonde before ending the FaceTime call to finish packing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed at the enormous house before you, flicking your head back and forth between the address Giorno had sent to you and the one plated in gold above the large double set doors. You even asked the boy more than once if he sent you the wrong address by mistake, earning you a barrage of middle finger emojis and obscenities at having to repeat himself over and over. Gingerly you lifted your hand to the doorbell and rang it, hearing the chime as clear as day echo inside. Your eyes shifted above the doorbell and noticed a plaque with the name ‘Brando’ etched across it. The sound of one of the doors opening gained your attention once more as a gorgeous young woman stepped out from them. She was wearing what looked to be a tight fitting maid’s uniform, with long brown hair swept to the side and cascading down one of her shoulders.

“Welcome to the Brando residence,” She said with a polite smile. “How can I help you Miss?”

‘Brando residence?” You thought to yourself. ‘I thought Giorno’s last name was Giovanna?’

“Uh hi...I’m looking for Giorno? I’m not sure if I’m at the right address.” The young woman perked up at Giorno’s name and stepped aside, holding the door open with a warm smile.

“You must be Y/N! Please come inside, Mr.Giovanna is indeed expecting you tonight!” At the confirmation you let out a breath of relief before stepping through the threshold, only to stop at the sight of the marble staircase before you. The house was far from being considered a mansion, but nonetheless did it look like something straight off of one of those celebrity reality shows. You jumped at the sound of the large door closing behind you, forgetting momentarily about the girl as she quickly made her way towards you. “Just give me one moment to go get Mr.Giovanna for you, he was insistent about showing you the house on his own.” All you could do was nod your head as words seem to fail as she hastily made her way up the stairs. You didn’t have time to look around though as Giorno came around from the top of the stairs and smiled down at you.

“This would be the part where I’d say welcome to my humble abode, but there is absolutely nothing humble about this monstrosity, my father made sure of that,” He sneered. He motioned with his hand for you to come up and you quickly began to ascend the stairs. Once you were at the top it didn’t seem as scary as before, but the rest of the home was just as beautiful. You honestly weren’t paying attention to where you were going, you were trying to take in everything at once from the amazing artwork that lined the walls, to ornate furniture, and even taking a moment to look at how pristine the hardwood floors were that you could practically see your face through it. Ok, maybe they weren’t that clean but still.

Before you knew it, you were in Gio’s bedroom as he made his way to his bed and opened his laptop. His bedroom was a simple creme color, a coffee brown bookcase filled with novels and trophies was lined next to a window that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Directly across from his bed was a flatscreen T.V sitting on top of a matching brown dresser. His walls were covered in paintings that looked as if they belonged in an art museum and a map of the world hung above his headboard. You stared down at his bed then, afraid to sit down as you didn’t want to wrinkle the deep purple duvet atop it. It took Gio a moment to realize that you were still standing by the doorway, his eyes following yours as they danced across his room as well before stopping right back at you.

“What?”

“Why am I just finding out now, after 2 years of friendship might I add, that you’re fucking loaded? I mean I knew you came from a family with SOME money but holy shit dude!” You stared into his green eyes, looking for an answer. Only to be met with a smile.

“Well technically I’m not rich. My father is. Hence there was nothing to find out.” You gave the blonde a dirty look, earning a chuckle from him before deciding that the bed was no longer intimidating and sat down on it.

“You know what I meant. I know you said your dad had a busy job, but what does he do to be able to own a house like this? Is he part of the mafia?” This time your question earned you a hearty laugh from your friend and you felt your ears get hot, not liking to be laughed at when you were being serious. You threw your duffle bag at Giorno, only for him to catch it with ease before placing it next to him on the bed. “I’m not trying to be funny Gio! Answer me!”

“First and foremost, you should know the mafia is MY forte, and I probably would respect the man if he actually was a member. It would make getting in a bit more easier.” You snorted at his answer. If you had a dollar for every time the boy mentioned dropping out of school to join the mafia you’d probably be as rich as his father by now. “However, every now and then he gets one as a client, if they’re willing to pay good that is. He’s a lawyer.” You looked around once more and out the open door as the maid walked by carrying a basket full of laundry. If this is what a lawyer could afford, maybe you were studying the wrong major.

“I have one more question.” Gio simply nodded his head for you to continue as he began typing on his laptop, pulling up the notes for the project you were assigned. “Why did that maid say this was the Brando residence? There was a plaque outside too with that name. I thought your last name was Giovanna?”

“It is Giovanna,” he answered without looking up from the computer screen. “That was my mother’s maiden name. My father’s last name is Brando. They were never married.” His curt reply told you that there was definitely more behind the story, but you decided not to press the issue for now and kept any more questions to yourself.

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Roughly three or four hours had passed since you and Giorno had begun working on your project, satisfied with the work so far you both decided to take a break. The due date wasn’t until a week from now, but this project was for your marine biology class and the professor was known for being a hardass when it came to grading so the sooner you could work on it, the more time you could use to perfect it before it reached him. You tossed your pen onto the bed, cracking your fingers and stretching your arms. Giorno had brought out his espresso machine an hour into the session and was now brewing himself another cup. You honestly never heard of anyone who kept a spare coffee machine in their bedroom, but Giorno mentioned that while he lived in Italy, it apparently was a normal thing. You called bullshit but decided not to break your head over it anymore.

“You sure you don’t want another cup of coffee Y/N?” You covered your mouth to stifle a yawn, wagging your finger at him.

“No thank you, if I drink too much caffeine I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Besides,” You added while hopping off of his bed. “Another cup of anything and I think my bladder will explode. Where’s the closest bathroom in this maze?”

“Down the hallway on the other end of the staircase, turn right.”

“Grazie!” He simply shot you a thumbs up as you made your way out with his, albeit vague, directions. Soon you went down the hallway and passed the stairs. “Alright he said turn right and we should be in business…” As soon as you turned the corner you stopped to see three doors, one on the right side closest to you and two on the left. All three were closed and Giorno hadn’t mentioned there’d be more than one door. “Well...only one way to find out.” Without another thought you naturally went to the single door on the right and opened it without hesitation. Not the brightest idea.

You halted in place, mouth going dry. The door you opened led not to the bathroom but to an older looking study. The three walls in front of you were lined ceiling to floor with bookcases, a small globe in the corner. In the center of it was a large mahogany desk, covered in scattered papers. What made you really stop however was the tall and muscular blond man casually leaning against the desk...with the maid on her knees facing him. The moment you had opened the door he had slowly looked up from the woman to you, not even startled by your intrusion. At first the only sounds you could hear was your own rapid heartbeat echoing in your ears, but now you were focusing on the sounds coming from the maid and noticing how her head was bobbing. A blush began to creep up your neck to your face as it looked like he made no intentions of stopping her either.

“Is there something I can help you with? I’m a bit busy if you couldn’t tell.” His deep voice had wrapped around your mind, slowly dragging you out of your thoughts. It sounded so calm, despite the current situation. You had to basically tear your eyes from the scene in front of you, your face burning more.

“I-I’m so sorry! I was just looking for-” You began to stutter, but he raised a hand stop you mid sentence.

“It’s the door across.” You quickly bowed and practically slammed the door shut, missing the sinful look on the man's face as he watched your retreating form.

You bolted into the room across, thankful this time for it actually being the bathroom as you locked the door letting out a shaky breath. You had no doubt in your mind that you had just met Giorno’s father, and unceremoniously at that.

“What a great first impression,” You thought aloud. You made your way to the sink to run some cool water on your face in hopes of getting your flustered look back to normal. After you were done and completed your original business you just stood at the closed door, you were a bit nervous to step foot outside the bathroom if god forbid HE was to come out at the same time. Unfortunately, god decided to dislike you at this moment as you heard a small knock on the restroom door. “Just a second,” You shakily called out. Deeply hoping it was Giorno wondering what was taking you so long. When you finally had the gall to open the door you were instead met with the sight of the young maid, her hair this time was a bit disheveled and a small pink tint was hinting at her cheeks.

“Hello again Ms. Y/N,” She squeaked out. This time she would not meet your eyes, looking towards the ground instead. “Mr. Brando would like for you to join him in his study for a moment. I will be taking my leave for the evening, please enjoy the rest of your stay.” She bowed and sped away and out of sight, not giving you a chance to apologize about walking in on them. You swept your eyes over the closed door to the study across from you, feeling a cold sweat begin to form on your brow. You inhaled deeply before settling your nerves and walking over. This time you knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

“Come in.” With another deep breath you slowly edged the door open, once again being welcomed by the dimly lit study. This time the man, whom you now knew was in fact Giorno’s father, sat behind his desk patiently, fingertips pressed together right above his wide chest. “I’m glad you learned how to knock this time,” He teased with a grin.

“Trust and believe I learned my lesson, again I want to properly apologize about intruding on...something so private.” You could hear your voice falter under his intense gaze, and he let out a deep chuckle. The sound was so alluring, and you felt your throat beginning to dry.

“That’s quite alright. I wanted us to start over on that first impression. Given the maid explained to me you’re a friend of my son, I didn’t think it appropriate for your first meeting of me to be in the middle of having my cock sucked,” He stated as if he were just talking about a small inconvenience. Your eyes widened at his crudeness and you couldn’t help but blush and look away, positive that you were as red as a cherry now.

“Well then...I appreciate the second chance then Mr. Brando.”

“Dio.”

“I beg your pardon?” You turned your face back to him, now he had his arms resting beside him on the chair. There was an almost playful look in his eyes.

“You can call me Dio. Mr. Brando is far too old for my taste.”

‘Of course his name would be something like Dio...how well it suits him too,’ You thought to yourself.

“Alright then...Dio. I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You bowed to formally greet the man, and when you looked back up he was beckoning you with his finger to come forward. You thought about just staying put but in the end began walking towards him. As you got closer, you were able to notice his features more clearly. His vibrant blond hair sat at neck length, small fringes of bangs reaching right about his thick brows. His eyes almost looked cat like, predatory even yet strikingly alluring. You assumed they were a light brown color but with the dim lighting they almost looked red, adding a supernatural aura to him. He was gorgeous, and now you knew where Giorno got his looks from. Once you reached the edge of his desk, he held out his hand for you, almost as if he were asking for a handshake. You reached out your own to reach his, taking notice at how incredibly large his hand was to yours. However he gently wrapped his fingers around your hand and leaned over, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles. The small action immediately sent a wave of heat through your entire body. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, not moving your hand away from his face. Your blush had never left, and the heat began to grow unbearable as you watched his eyes slowly sweep down your face, stopping for a moment at your lips before coming back up to lock once more with your own.

“The pleasure is mine, Ms. Y/N.” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper, the breath from his words ghosting over your knuckles and sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly he slipped his hand from yours, lingering on your fingertips for the briefest of moments before resting it on his thigh. You followed his movements with your eyes, noticing how thick and muscular his thighs were, straining against the fabric of his beige dress pants. Your eyes crept up, landing on the small amount of skin peeking out from his shirt he hadn’t bothered to tuck back in. The white button down seemed to be a second skin, as it clung to every contour and muscle on his body, the first two buttons undone to give you a glimpse of just what lies underneath. Finally, your journey stopped on his lips; deliciously pouty and upturned into one of the most devilish smirks you’d ever seen. “See something you like?” You dragged your eyes up completely to meet his, only to be greeted with an intense gaze that burned through your entire body. He had watched you ogle him shamelessly like a horny school girl, and couldn’t look more proud about it. At that moment the door to the study swung open, snapping you out of your trance.

“I was worried you got lost, looks more like you got trapped.” Giorno’s familiar voice was laced with venom, his face contorted to one of disgust. He stayed at the entrance of the study, holding the door open to allow the light from the hallway to seep through. He was focused solely on Dio, who sat relaxed in his chair unbothered by the angry blonde boy.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise my son.” He emphasized the last two words, earning an eye twitch from the younger. “ I was just introducing myself to your exquisite friend here. I’m quite hurt that you hadn’t introduced me to her sooner.” Giorno simply scoffed at his father’s words.

“Well now that you’ve met, I’d like to have her returned to me now. We have a project to finish.” Giorno then turned his eyes to you, his gaze softening immensely. “Come on Y/N, I ordered us some takeout and it should be here soon so we can get back to work.”

“O-oh. Uh thanks Gio,” You mumbled. Your mind was still in a bit of a haze, but you were beginning to get your bearings. You turned to look at Dio and bowed once more. “It was nice meeting you Mr...I mean Dio. Please have a great rest of your evening.” With that you turned and began high tailing towards the door. Giorno moved back into the hallway as you approached, but before you could close the door that seductive voice reached out to you once more.

“Y/N,” he purred out. Slowly you turned towards him, hand still in the door knob. “If you need anything at all tonight, please do not hesitate to come look for me. You are our guest here and it would be my...” his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, “greatest pleasure to assist you.” You couldn’t help but swallow at the second meaning behind his words. Afraid to hear your own voice you simply nodded your head before softly closing the door behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giorno had interrogated you for a bit on your meeting with Dio, and you lied and told him you simply got curious after finding the bathroom and stumbled upon the study. You could tell he knew you were leaving something out but you would be damned if you actually told him the real way you found his father. After making sure you were ok enough for him and confirming that the man never touched you he dropped the subject and you both went on with the project while enjoying the food he had ordered. At around 1 AM you both agreed on turning in for the night and to continue in the morning. Giorno showed you to the guest room right next to his and bid you goodnight, finally leaving you alone with your thoughts. You laid on top of the bed just staring at the ceiling for a while. No matter how hard you tried, you kept replaying the meeting with Dio over and over again to the point that the memory of the maid slowly morphed and it was now you on your knees in front of him instead of her.

“Get out of my head!” You angrily whispered, not wanting for your friend to hear you through the walls. You glanced at your phone to see the time, ‘1:30 AM’ mocked the bright numbers. You got up from the bed and dug through your duffle bag and pulled out your pajamas. You thought about just changing and forcing yourself to sleep but you felt too warm and wanted a shower. Immediately you thought about going to the one down the hall but your stomach dropped, you did NOT want to run into you know who. “This house is huge, there’s definitely another bathroom somewhere.” You slowly made your way out of the room and into the quiet hallway. You checked the other rooms near yours only to find another guest room and a movie room, which you knew you were going to beg Giorno to set up a movie night after all of this. You walked down the hall and stopped at the stairs, looking at the hallway across from you where you knew the bathroom was.

“Maybe he’s not there anymore and went to bed?” You said to yourself. You shook your head and continued on your mission of finding another bathroom and descended down the stairs, you weren’t going to take any chances. Finally after finding the kitchen, two more guest rooms and a billiards room, you found a second bathroom. It was smaller and less ornate than the one up stairs but it was still a decent size and had a stand up shower. You mentally cheered before placing down your items and quickly began stripping. Soon you were in the shower letting the cool water bounce across your skin, feeling the tension in your body slowly melt away. Occasionally your mind would wander onto the relationship Giorno had with his father, yes the man was indeed intimidating and there was something below the surface of that beautiful face that felt a bit dangerous, but there was nothing else that struck out to you as to why your friend couldn’t stand him. He’s told you about how egotistical the man is and how they always lived on edge of a fight, but never actually gave you hard proof or reasons for the intense dislike. Giorno had told you about his mother and how a complete bitch she was while he was growing up and everything she had put him through so you understood his feelings towards her completely. Eventually she dumped him off onto Dio one day and just disappeared from his life, ‘good riddance’ he had told you. Yet the mechanics of his relationship with his father was still kept a mystery to you and he would close up about it if you started asking too many questions. The only answer you’ve gotten so far was that they shared a difference in morals, and that was it.

After a good while you finished your shower and started to dry off. You felt as if a thousand weights were lifted from your shoulders and quickly put the events of the evening to the back of your mind, finally feeling sleepy. You began to get dressed but noticed something odd. You could have sworn you brought a clean pair of underwear to change into along with your pajamas. You looked around the bathroom floor to see if maybe it had fallen but found nothing.

“Maybe I left them in the bag by accident?” You shrugged your shoulders and just decided to just slip on your night shorts without underwear , you’d put some on when you got back to your room. You opted for a simple tank top as well to complete the look, your body was still a bit wet so the shirt became damp making the material a bit see through. You didn’t really care much, not like you were going to run into anybody like this..

You made your way out of the bathroom, the air inside the house suddenly felt a lot more colder and you began to shiver. Scurrying your way through the first floor you finally made it back to the stairs and started to climb them. You hadn’t noticed the extra pair of footsteps walking the hall until you were half way up, stopping completely in your tracks and if you hadn’t met him tonight the sight before you would’ve been a terrifying one. Dio stood at the top of the stairs, his back facing the little bit of light from the hall so all you could really see was the outline of his body, his face was completely hidden in the shadows. It felt like you were looking at a ghost and not a man.

“What a coincidence, I was just on my way down to look for you, Ms. Y/N..” His voice was as smooth as ever, but you noticed there was something else there that you couldn’t quite pick up on. “What on earth are you doing up at this hour?” You were feeling a bit uneasy with how calm he sounded, and the fact that you couldn’t see his face was making it worse.

“I was just taking a bath..” You answered meekly, your throat feeling tight.

“And why would you go through the trouble of going all the way down there? You already know there’s one upstairs.”

‘ Because I didn’t want to run into like I just did now.’ You thought to yourself. You swallowed hard before answering.

“I-I didn’t want to disturb you in case you were asleep.”

“Aren’t you the thoughtful one.” He let out a chuckle. “No matter, I actually was looking for you to see if you forgot something.”

“Not that I know of..why?” You wanted for this conversation to be over already, the tension that you had just showered away crawling right back to you. Dio let out another chuckle, this one sounded a bit huskier. He didn’t say anything but lifted his hand out to the side, and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. In his hand were your missing panties, where as he was still in the shadows they were illuminated VERY clearly in the light. You felt your embarrassment multiply as he laughed at your reaction.

“I found them on the floor up here by the stairs and figured they were yours, unless Giorno has changed his sense of fashion recently which I doubt considering he’s never liked polka dots to begin with. Then again I’m not one to judge.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously at his joke.

“This is just outright embarrassing, but thank you for trying to return them to me.” You kept mentally cursing to yourself about this whole situation, and how this happened in the first place; you should’ve just let Giorno come to your apartment to study like he wanted from the beginning. You began climbing the stairs to retrieve your underwear from the blond, but as soon as you reached the last step he took one step back just out of your reach. You furrowed your brows and stepped forward again, and once more he took another step back. “Um...what are you doing?”

“Playing your game, Ms. Y/N.” You rose a brow in confusion, you were honestly getting annoyed now.

“What game?” He let out a ‘hmph’ before turning around and walking down the hall, still dangling your underwear over his shoulder for you to see. “Hey!” You shouted and followed after him as he disappeared around the corner, once you reached it you stopped to see the door to his study was wide open. You made your way over and stood in front of the open door, on top of his desk were your panties, but Dio was nowhere in sight.

‘ I would have to be a complete idiot not to realize this is a trap.’ You stayed in place, just staring at the underwear that was mocking you. He had to be somewhere in there, but the dim lighting made it hard to see into the small shadows in the corner of the room, and the light from the hallway wasn’t helping much either. You contemplated just leaving them there, it wasn’t like you had no more underwear at home, but deep down you wanted to see what would happen and the moment that thought crossed your mind you felt a warm sensation through your body. Your fantasy was getting the better of you and before you realized it you were walking towards the desk. You reached the desk and still no sign of the man, so you reached out to grab your underwear without hesitating.

*Click*

The light from the hallway completely disappeared as the door was closed, you didn’t turn around but you could feel someone staring at you from behind. His footsteps echoed in the room, surprised that you could even hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat blaring in your ears. He stopped right behind you, his chest practically pressed against your back. A large hand reached out from behind you and took hold of the clothes that you were still clutching in your hands before tossing them to the side. Once more the hand came into your line of vision and tenderly cupped your face and turned it to the side to meet Dio’s hot gaze. His hand was cold in comparison to your hot face as he slowly traced circles on your bottom lip with his thumb. He bent his head down to your ear, pressing you against his body in the process and feeling his hardness rub against your ass. You let out a gasp, earning you a chuckle from the large man, his warm breath tickling your ear.

“I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be a special treat.” His voice felt like velvet as he whispered into your ear, the sound along with his breath was beginning to make your body betray you as each word he whispered sent a throbbing heat to your core. He kissed the spot right behind your ear, slowly ghosting his lips across your jaw, then your cheek before hungrily taking your own lips with his. His lips were softer than they looked as they caressed your own, earning a moan from you. Dio took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You should’ve pushed him away, bit his tongue, elbowed him to make a run for it or something instead of just giving in. His other hand had wrapped around your waist, but was now moving up and under your tank top grabbing a hold of your right breast and massaging it. Dio finally pulled away from the kiss and aside from the lustful look on his face he seemed unaffected, unlike you who was a panting red faced mess.

“We shouldn-'' Was all you were able to breath out before he pinched your nipple hard eliciting another moan from you as he began rubbing the sensitive bud between his fingers.

“Your voice sounds so sweet when you moan for me Y/N, I want more of it.” His other hand left your face as it travelled to the waistband of your shorts before slipping through easily, running a long thick finger across your slit. Your hips on their own accord bucked at the sensation, making Dio laugh darkly. “My, my, all I did was kiss you and you’re already so wet. You’re a very filthy girl aren’t you Y/N?” You turned your face away from him and bit your lip to hold back another moan as he slipped his finger inside you and began pumping it slowly. Your knees began to buckle from underneath you, so Dio pushed you both forward effectively pinning your legs between him and the desk to stop you from falling.

“I can’t do this,” You whined to him. “Your Giorno’s father..” You squeezed your eyes shut in pain as he added two more fingers and began pumping at an obscene pace, not allowing you to stretch around them first.

“I’m well aware of who I am to that boy.” He answered gruffly.The hand that was on your breast moved and was cupping your face a bit more rough than before, his fingers now hitting your sweet spot causing your breath to stop in your throat. “I’m also aware about his feelings for you and how blissfully ignorant you are to them. Which makes this so much more sweeter for me.” He kissed you again, this time more feverishly. As he pulled away again he withdrew his fingers from your heat at the same moment, leaving you feeling empty. That feeling was short lived however as he pushed you down onto the desk, your chest was completely pressed against it making your ass push out towards him. Dio pulled your shorts down to your ankles, the cold air rushing to your wet core making you shiver. You could hear him unzipping his pants and the ruffling of clothing, before you felt the tip of his dick tease against your entrance. Slowly he inched it into you, stretching out your hole. It had not hurt as much as you thought it would but there was a dull pain nonetheless from how big he was. You’ve had partners before so you were by no means a virgin, but you’d be damned if you had anybody with his size.

“Such a nice and tight cunt you have my dear Y/N. I can’t wait to ruin it.” Without wasting another moment he gripped your hips with both hands as he began to fuck you roughly, the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours were drowned out by your loud moans. His chest was pressed firmly against your back, his head right next to your ear and you could hear every groan and grunt that escaped his lips. “I wish you could see the look on your face right now,” He panted into your ear, not once stopping his relentless pace. “Such a dirty look for a dirty girl.” You had no response, the only thing falling from your mouth being your own incoherent screams and moans. Soon you felt a hot pressure beginning to build, each thrust bringing you closer to your edge.

“Dio please!” You couldn’t recognize your voice, it sounded so hoarse and needy. He took notice and snaked a hand down between your legs, pressing a finger onto your clit but not moving it.

“Please what, my dear Y/N?” He began to slow his pace, getting you on the verge of tears as you felt the pressure begin to fade. “I want to hear you beg for it.” You tried to bring your hips to meet his but he only pulled farther away. Finally you gave in.

“Make me cum from your cock Dio, please!” Satisfied he picked up his pace, slamming into you as he began rubbing your clit in tight circles. The pressure began building up again causing your vision to go in and out.

“I want you to scream my name when you cum. Be a good little girl for me.” His voice is what sent you over the edge as his name ripped from your throat as you orgasmed. As you came your core squeezed around him, bringing him close to his. He pulled out with a final groan as he emptied his load onto your ass. As your high began to die down, you felt the pain on your thighs from being pounded into the desk. You were going to have bruises tomorrow for sure. Slowly Dio lifted himself from on top of you, lifting you off of the desk as well. “I apologize, but it seems I may have made a bit of a mess on you.” His breathing was back to normal, but when you turned around you looked down and nearly choked. He was still as hard as a rock. “Why don’t I join you for a another shower, Ms. Y/N?” The devilish look on his face was enough to tell you that your little romp was far from over.

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #anime #dio brando #readerxcharacter #readerxdio #reader insert #smut

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thusatlas · 3 years

Text

Ask for what you want, not what you think you should have

I have a theory. Well, I have many, but this particular theory is a doozy. The theory is… (wait for it) …

Everything is connected. I know, I am a genius. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I’ll collect my Nobel Award whilst I pick a up cucumber canapé on my way out.

But seriously, as obvious as it is, the more I reflected inward on my stream of conscious and started asking why, the more I have begun to connect the dots. I have become more aware that my actions, feelings and emotions that can be explained through cause and effect.

Here I want you all to take one mental step to the left to avoid falling down the free will and determinism rabbit hole before you. That is not today's topic. It might be next weeks, but not today. So just shimmy on over to this mental path that I’m laying for you here. On this path, we are accepting that we as individuals are moral agents, accountable for our actions and behaviours. Therefore, you have free will in a world that has been pre-determined by other free moral agents. Or if that’s too deep for you, just move right on past this philosophical premise and carry on enjoying the allegory I’m about to weave for you.

This all began some time ago, way back in high school, when I had to write my CV for the first time. I know that feeling of discomfort one feels when you fill out a job form, write a personal statement or cover letter is not individual to myself. This is a widespread phenomenon and yet the only way that you can progress professionally or academically is to sell yourself. Hence there is an entire profession in which you can be paid for writing somebody else’s CV. Furthermore, hence the reason why the widely understood, highly inaccurate statistic accepted as truth is that all CEO’s and higher business people are psychopaths; one of the defining features of psychopathy being arrogance and narcissism (that part is true but again, not the point of today’s topic…moving on). We, the neuro-typical, non-psychopathic, really struggle to write about our best selves when it comes to applications of any kind. We do it because we have to, not because we want to.

Now think about it. I write and talk about many things throughout my days, from objective truths to subjective feelings. I process categorical facts and infer meaning that is hidden within the subtext. I imagine stories, characters, worlds, conversations and ensuing emotions. All without effort.

And yet.

I cannot write about myself. I cannot write about my good qualities with ease, without that feeling of discomfort. I cannot do it as easily as I am writing this now.

Sound familiar? If it doesn’t, then firstly what’s your secret? If that does resonate with you, keep following me down the yellow brick road of this allegory. I’m going to turn it into something less deep, far easier to swallow and then bring it back to filling in application forms.

It’s going to be cool.

Hopefully…

The list of top 10 most loved/dreaded questions. Somewhere on this list is: what do you want for Christmas/your birthday because I find answering it be an egoistic minefield to navigate. Apparently, it’s considered impolite to ask for all one’s problems to be solved or a million pounds or a new car/house/holiday. What I used to say, was what I actually wanted in an exaggerated way that would generally garner a chuckle. Both myself and the other participant in the conversation knew that I was being 100 per cent serious and if the person asking was happy to buy me my dream house then I would shamelessly have accepted (whilst also repeatedly enquiring if they were sure because I couldn’t possibly, hoping beyond hope that they would not come to their senses). However, this rarely (never) happened. Thus, the usual rapport was:

Person A - “What do you want for your birthday?”

Person B - “I would love a 50-foot yacht and a butler named Steve to attend my every whim”

A and B participate in the prescribed requisite chuckle.

Person B – “But seriously, I haven’t really thought about it.”

Person A – “let me know if you think of anything”

Person B – “Of course, though you don’t have to get me anything”

Person A – “nonsense, it’s your birthday”

End scene. I will pick up the Oscar for lead performance whilst I sample these delectable mini-hamburgers. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I had this conversation for years until I questioned what’s the point of it if nobody gets anything out of it. Having been both Person A and B, it’s uncomfortable for both parties because Person B doesn’t want to be perceived as selfish while Person A is asking to avoid the stress of having to guess what Person B wants. Now, while I love a good humble moment, this is not the time to be humble. Similar to job interviews, CV writing or personal statements. Why is it that we are not comfortable with celebrating our wants, our needs even when we are being directly asked to sell ourselves or literally tell someone what we want.

So I had a revelation a couple of years ago. I am aware that this is not going to be groundbreaking for other people but stay with me here. As of now, my life in regards to birthdays and Christmas’ consists of throwing the humble pie out of the window. My birthday is fast approaching and my family have begun to ask what I want.

AND HERE IS THE POINT OF THE ALLEGORY!

Bedsocks.

(Groundbreaking isn’t it.)

But seriously, my feet get cold because my house is old and the end of the bed is right by a window. You see the issue. Might as well sleep with my tootsies exposed to the winter’s chill.

However, (plot twist) I also want the new Jean Paul Gaultier Classique perfume which retails from £44 - £88 depending on the outlet.

I’m going to pause here because this is a Q.E.D moment. While the point of this post is not about asking the internet to get me what I want for my birthday, I feel the need to point out that I would, of course, be happy with just a card or a hug or a text for my birthday. I am merely using this as an example for the said allegory which has not yet been fully actualised. I am not some entitled princess who’s going to throw a tantrum reminiscent of Dudley Dursley if I don’t get what I want.

(If you’re not getting that reference then shame on you).

Now that I am 80 per cent sure that you don’t think I’m Veruca Salt (you better get that one), I shall continue with my point. I chose to embrace and show that yes, I want bedsocks and yes I also want magnificent perfume. Two drastically different items for the same person but these are items that I objectively want. I was asked so I answered. I am a bougie queen with cold feet.

What was interesting was the reaction of person A. There was an acceptance of my bedsock suggestion, though they did amend with, “Is that all? It’s not much”. The response to the Jean Paul Gaultier suggestion was “you don’t want much do you?” said with a scoff. We shall gloss over the mixed signals and possible shadiness and explore the duality of these responses to the embracing of my wants.

If you ever need to ground yourself or remind yourself that you are a product of all that came before you and all that will come after you, look to the Ancient Greeks. For a society that existed over 4000 years ago, we are still practising and preaching the philosophies of Thales, Aristotle, Socrates and Plato. You can find watermarks of the Greek thinkers hidden in the folds of much of modern societies ideologies, legalities, politics and psychology.

Does that mean they were ahead of their time or with all that society has evolved over that time, the human condition remains the same, regardless of how wise and savvy we think we have evolved to be?

Now it was widely accepted amongst theologians, philosophers, sociologists and psychologists that if you wish to look at the skeletal structure of a society in a snapshot, then look to their religious beliefs.

I’m going to need you to take a mental step to the right to avoid falling down the ‘is God real’ rabbit hole. We are not here to discuss the objective existence of the divine. So, I’m going to need you to hope back on our yellow brick road where we are accepting the truth that all pantheons have objectively exist in the narrative of human history within their respective societies.

To the point, the Ancient Greeks believed in a pantheon full of diverse Gods (big G, we don’t theologically discriminate here). When I first thought of the Greek pantheon, my thoughts immediately go to Zeus and his ilk. However, I’ve been on the Google and am now more informed than I was 5 minutes ago (look at me and my fact-checking… if only Fox News were the same).Anyway, briefly for your understanding, the Greek pantheon is split into 8 parts.

Parts one through to four covers the Gods who are the essential ingredients for the fabric of reality. So, Gaia who is the Earth, Pontos the Sea, and Ouranos the Dome of Heaven. The Daimones (spirits) and Nymphai who nurture the life of the four elements and so on. The Daimones that affect the body and mind: Eros the spirit of love (not to be confused with lust or attraction), Phobos the spirit of fear, Thanatos the spirit of Death. The Gods who control the forces of nature and who interacted and taught mankind. Helios the sun and Anemoi the wind; the agricultural earth Gods Ploutos, not to be confused with the pastoral Gods Pan, nor the city Gods Hestia. The Titan Gods Themis, Kronos, Prometheseus etc, are not to be confused with the defied mortals who are considered to be part of this section of the pantheon: Herakles, Asklepios etc. Nor should they be confused with the Olympian Gods Hebe and Mousai. This condensed list is actually very long.

Now we have the fifth part that everyone knows. The 12 Olympians who preside and govern over the aforementioned and the ones who have yet to be mentioned. They are Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Ares, Athene, Aphrodite, Hephaistos, Hermes, Dionysos and Hestia. Part six through to eight covers the constellations and the horoscopes, the monsters and the semi-divine love children of the Olympians who defeated them

That is a majorly condensed list however its extensiveness is the point I am trying to make here so I appreciate you if you have stuck with me thus far. If you wish for a full list of the Greek Pantheon here are links to further your own reading: (1, 2, 3).

So, the Greeks had this diverse belief system. These beings who governed their every action. Literally everything, physical and metaphysical alike.

Now tell me what they missed.

Tell me what’s missing from this very extensive list.

Evil.

Ah, but there is Hades the God of the underworld you say! There are monsters!

Hades was made evil by Disney I’m sorry to say (though he was fabulous).

Hades in the Greek pantheon is the God of the dead and Zeus fucked up and much as he did. Odysseus is a soap opera, I swear. Anyway, the monsters? They’re as neutral as death. They are creatures doing exactly what is within their nature to do. Thus the underlying ethos of the pantheon. Every one of those deities commits actions that can be perceived to be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ by the humans they lived alongside. The Greeks did not revere them to be absolute good, nor absolute evil. What they did, was perceive them to portray unavoidable facets of our day-to-day lives that should be celebrated, acknowledged and respected. For example, take Dionysus, the God of wine, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Basically, this bitch was the life of the party. As such, large banquets and hedonistic orgies were often held in his name, celebrating pleasure, life and the loss of control within the madness of relinquishing stress.

But we aren’t the Ancient Greeks are we (though I know I look fetching in a toga if I do say so myself).

Western civilisation, take the United Kingdom, for example, founded its legal system upon the 10 commandments of the monotheist pantheon of Christianity. Furthermore, The Act of Supremacy in 1534 appointed King Henry VIII the first Supreme Governor of the Church of England. A largely ceremonial title that has been passed on to reigning monarchs ever since. Within the United Kingdom, Church and State have been very much intertwined since the days of the court governance. As such, themes of Christian teachings and concepts became entwined within our culture, and over the years have become so embedded that accepted behaviour and social nuances are not intrinsically associated with its religious teaching. The obvious examples to point out are the recent milestone law amendments to same-sex marriages and abortion. Going deeper into social norms: the concepts of purity and promiscuity, humbleness and arrogance, greed, sin and punishment. I have been brought up in a time where I have heard the rhetoric about my own body change from ‘do not sleep around, don’t be easy’ to ‘it’s your body, equality, if men can do it, you can to’. Aside from my own personal views on this topic, this social rhetoric is a symptom of the culture in which we live. They also echo some (not all) Christian teachings. Triandis and Triandis (1988-2004) have produced many works on the development of culture, the bare bones of the explanation being that culture of a society is a product of history, language and stories. Prior to written print, all information was passed on from generation to generation through stories. These stories contained information about countries' histories, experiences, and beliefs. The languages and gestures telling the stories are a creole of invading forces and immigrating travellers. These are the bare ingredients for culture. All that is left to perfect this recipe is time. Leave to mature of a few centuries and you’ve got a fine wine and a handful of convoluted social norms. Hence, the aforementioned rhetoric and the continued acceptance within British culture that the Monarch is the head of the Church.

The Ancient Greeks didn’t have time. Their teachings and stories are still hailed today, but their civilisation did not survive long enough for their culture to become a social norm.

Now, the reason why we’ve gone through this is to point out that the Christian pantheon is heavily reliant upon the idea of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. Absolute good. Absolute evil. I could do an entire blog on the different theological branches of Christianity and how they have affected Western culture. In this instance, we shall focus on the concept of sin. Though it is obvious, it must be pointed out:

Sin is bad.

Bad is punished.

Ergo - Must avoid sin.

What is sin? Well, sinning is many things if we go by the Bible and the wholesome Leviticus, but here we are focusing on the widely known and accepted concept of the Seven deadly sins. Though these little devils didn’t specifically make a named appearance in the Bible, their themes were present throughout. Thereafter they were popularised and named via Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and Dante’s Purgatory.

Hopefully, you’re beginning to see all the threads of this post coming together now.

The Seven deadly sins are as such:

Greed

Envy

Lust

Gluttony

Wrath

Sloth

Pride

It is accepted within Western culture that behaviour must avoid ‘evil’ to avoid punishment. Ergo, we must avoid behaving in any way that can be associated with the aforementioned fiendish sins.

And so. The point.

I want bougie perfume and bedsocks for my birthday. Bedsocks is an acceptable humble and utilitarian item. It is not frivolous.

Bougie perfume? It is frivolous. It is a luxury. It is Greed. The fact that I boldly stated as such? Maybe a hint of Pride in my request? Either way, it is a social norm to at least raise an eyebrow at somebody stating frankly that they want an expensive item for their birthday.

To stress this point: if I had asked for driving lessons which are double the price of the perfume, no comment would have been made because of its utility. And so I bring you right back to the beginning. I am applying for jobs and finding the whole process unbearably uncomfortable because I am wondering if me toting all my achievements in one go and really selling myself will come across as arrogant (pride).

I should be humble, shouldn’t I? Humble me in the face of power…Isn’t that the social norm here? Which leads me to my final conclusion. Here are two different worldviews and neither are false and neither are true. If everything is connected (and that is what we call a callback) and if I were an Ancient Greek, how would I apply for jobs? How would I tote my credentials when there is no punishment for being proud of my accomplishments? When there is no concept of sin within the narrative of my worldview and just differing aspects of my nature, surely applying for jobs, asking for presents, networking etc, etc, etc, would be a far less painful experience?

#blog #greek gods #mental health #theory #religion #politics #everything is connected #psychology #philosophy #theology #all human constructs #created by humans #to understand the human condition #diaries of a snowflake #experimental life of a snowflake #short essay

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writeyouin · 5 years

Note

yoyoyo, for Halloween request I would absolutely love to see IDW Megatron. Imagine if the human liaison explained and somehow convinced everyone to celebrate Halloween so now they’re having a huge party and liaison notices megatron isn’t there. They go to his quarters and try to coax him to come out but he doesn’t budge and it turns out with him admitting that he feels as if though he doesn’t belong there and liaison is comforting him. I just imagine it to be a very “intimate” interaction :D.

Megatron (IDW) X Reader - Removing the Mask

A/N – What I’m about to say will make sense later: I don’t think Megatron would own a mirror, putting more into his mind than his looks… Ravage on the other hand… He a kitty… Kitty needs mirror.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Slowly, you weaved your way through the throng at Swerve’s, careful to avoid the stomping pedes of the overcharged bots that towered over you. Despite your trouble manoeuvring through the crowd, you were delighted to see everyone getting into the Halloween spirit. When you suggested celebrating the holiday in the meeting with Rodimus, you never thought everybody would be so interested, but apparently any excuse to cut loose and party was good enough.

However, as happy as you were, you were also disappointed to find that Megatron was nowhere to be seen. Over the past few months, you had started understanding him more, visiting him for friendly chats rather than professional meetings, listening to his poetry recitals, leaving him small gifts of Earth literature; you had broken free of your role as his keeper, opting instead to be his friend.

The memory of your last conversation replayed in your head; a reminder that you might have crossed the line from friends into something more without his wanting to. ‘You should come to the Halloween party tonight. It might be fun.’

Megatron hadn’t even looked up from his report, replying with a despondent, ‘Nobody will want me there. I am hardly adored on this ship.’

‘You’re wrong. I mean, I want you there…If you want to come that is.’

At that, Megatron didn’t say anything more and you wondered if you’d overstepped your boundaries. Now, as you craned your neck to look up for him, you realised that you might have sounded a little desperate.

You wondered whether you ought to check the hallway for him, in case he was out there, worrying about entering the party alone. The opportunity didn’t arise however, as you were knocked down by an over-charged mech. You were sure he was about to crush you when he turned around to check what he had hit. His pede came crashing down, and you held your arms up instinctively, trying to shout over the noise of the bar to no avail. Before his foot could come down, you felt yourself being yanked into the air.

Rodimus set you down onto the bar with a cocky grin. You saw his lips moving, though you couldn’t hear what he said over the pounding lyrics of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller,’ which blasted loudly over the bar’s speakers.

“WHAT?!” You yelled.

Rodimus tried again.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

Rodimus frowned, his neck cables becoming taut as he yelled over the music, “I SAID IT WAS A COOL FRAGGIN’ SAVE!”

You gave an agreeable thumbs-up. Meanwhile, Rodimus commed Blaster through his internal feed, telling him to turn the music down so the two of you could have a normal conversation.

Finally, when he could hear himself think, Rodimus turned his attention back to you. “So, after that daring, debonair rescue, can I get you a drink?”

You grinned, “Do you even know what debonair means?”

“Not a clue.”

“Didn’t think so. Well, as much as I love those ‘debonair’ drink offers, I must decline. I’m looking for Megatron, you seen him?”

“That sour-puss? He’s probably moping in his hab-suite. Why do you need him anyway?”

You chewed your lip, thinking about your previous invitation to Megatron. Denying Rodimus the truth, you shook your head, “No reason.”

Rodimus stared intently at you, trying to figure you out. He was about to say something more, but was quickly cut short by the sight of Ultra Magnus entering the bar, a stern look on his face.

“Scrap,” Rodimus blanched. “Gotta run! Homework attack! You haven’t seen me!”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, not quite ready to say aloud the private thoughts you’d been having about Megatron. Thinking of Megatron again didn’t help, other than to make you feel even glummer. Would it be a burden on him if you visited? What if he really didn’t want to come to the party? You wanted to believe that he did but was too shy, however the fear of him hating your weird Earth traditions scared you, as if he might be rejecting you instead of the holiday.

“Be brave,” You told yourself. “If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”

With that small boost of courage, you vaulted off the bar, taking one shaky step at a time to visit the mech who you ought to hate, yet were slowly growing to love.

Megatron stared forlornly at the blank datapad in front of him. He had hoped to escape the jubilations of Halloween in one of his works of poetry, yet no matter how much he tried, he could think of nothing to write. Even from his hab-suite, his wonderful world of words could not protect him from the faraway sound of music that furthered the ache in his spark.

‘(Y/N) is out there, probably having the time of their life without me,’ Megatron thought sadly. He was your job, and though he was sure you were only making your job less tedious by conversing with him on a personal level, he held out a small slither of hope that it might be because you liked him, at least a little bit.

He rested his helm in his servos, loathing that fragment of hope for existing. He should be content with what he already had, yet that infernal emotion kept coming back, daring to dream of more. Why wasn’t it enough to be merely accepted by you? He’d tried to eliminate your planet, yet he still had the gall to wish to hold your light near him, snuffing out the darkness of his past.

‘(S)he said (s)he wanted me there…What did that even mean? Was it just a polite invitation? It didn’t feel like that.’

Megatron leaned back in his chair, sighing. He was glad that Ravage wasn’t around to see him like this; it was a very sorry sight indeed. Fortunately, the ferocious feline had taken to napping in the vents and wasn’t likely to come back for a while.

“Megatron?” You called from outside, having failed to reach the door-pad to buzz yourself in.

Megatron sat up straight, the corner of his lips fighting between a smile and a frown, causing him to grimace oddly.

“Megatron, you in there?”

“Just one moment,” Megatron replied. He lowered himself to the floor where there was a mirror for Ravage to preen. Seeing himself on all fours made him feel ridiculous, but he had to make sure he looked all right. He hadn’t buffed his paint-job in a while, though he supposed he still looked acceptable, at the very least.

‘What am I doing?’ He reprimanded himself, getting up quickly and walking over to the door in a controlled manner.

He let you in, keeping his expression neutral while he tried to figure you out. You waved casually, taking a few steps inside. The door closed quietly behind you.

“Hey,” You said, hoping whatever was coming wouldn’t sound desperate. “I uh, wondered if you were alright… I kind of hoped to see you at the party.”

Megatron blinked long and hard, putting too much thought into your words. So, you did want him there, but was it a pity invite? If it wasn’t then why did you want to see him of all mechs? Did you just want to see him as a friend? Could he dare ask for more? It felt selfish to think of you as a friend at all, but whenever he looked at you, he felt the need to fight again. Only this time, instead of fighting to destroy, he would be fighting to create a relationship worth protecting.

“Megatron?”

Your voice brought Megatron out of his reverie. He opened his optics, his gaze gentle as it met yours, making you feel vulnerable, as if he was seeing something in you that you didn’t know existed. “I am sorry (Y/N),” Megatron said humbly, “but I cannot attend tonight’s festivities.”

“Oh…”

Megatron’s spark squeezed in his chest cavity at the crestfallen look that befell you.

“I um… Is it me? Did I push you?”

“What! No. Primus, no. The fault is entirely my own- I just-” Megatron sighed; how could he concisely convey the eons of hatred that followed him where he went. He knew he deserved it, but every time he left his hab-suite only to be met with a look of the purest contempt from everyone he passed, he was reminded of the many iniquities of his past that he had no way of making up for.

“(Y/N),” Megatron lamented, half-covering his face with his servo as he leant against the berth. “Why can’t you see how much they hate me? Why… Why don’t you hate me?”

“Do you really think so little of me that you think I wouldn’t understand?” You asked, surprising Megatron. “I get why they hate you. When we first met, I honestly wondered how we were going to work together because I hated you. You attacked my planet, my home, my way of life. Considering how long your war was, I get it; everyone hates you.”

Megatron knew he deserved the verbal beating, but hearing it from you was far worse than he ever fathomed; every word felt like a bullet to his very spark.

“But then I met you.” Megatron risked a peek at you, finding your gaze distant, lost in the void of memories. “I was so sure you wold be the same Cybertronian I saw on T.V. all fierce and proud and so full of hate… but you weren’t. From day one you were so eager to make up for all the things you’ve done. I bet you didn’t even realise it but it was almost like if you showed just this one tiny Earthling that you’d changed, maybe everyone else could see it too.”

Megatron hung his head low, embarrassed that he was so easy to read; he hoped nobody else was as perceptive as you.

“You know, on Earth we have this… well it’s not really a saying, more of an idea really. It’s that if you feel ashamed of your past, it makes you a better person than those who aren’t, because at least you want to change. Somebody who is truly bad doesn’t care about their actions or who they are.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, Halloween is a time for unmasking our ghosts and facing the skeletons in the closet… You shouldn’t force yourself to face your past alone. Everyone here has something they’re ashamed of, that’s why they don’t hate you as much as you think they do. I’d bet if you spent half as much time with them as you have with me, they might even like you.”

Megatron finally looked at you, your words reopening some old wounds inside him that would heal better thanks to your kindness. “(Y/N), I know what you say holds the truth, but I cannot go out there… not tonight.”

You nodded sadly, “I know. I saw it as soon as I came in here. Goodbye Megatron. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for on this ship of misfits. I know I did.”

As you turned to leave, Megatron reached out for you, “Wait!”

You inclined your head towards him, listening.

Although Megatron wanted to ask you what it was you had found during your time aboard the Lost Light, he couldn’t as another request came to mind. “I know it is selfish to ask on your holiday, but please… Stay with me tonight?”

“You sure you want me here?”

Megatron dropped to his knees before you, “I feel that maybe I could use some practice if I am to co-inhabit with the others of this ship. Will you ah-”

Your lip tilted at the corner and Megatron blushed. He had already admitted that he was being selfish, but if only you knew how selfish his processor desired to be. If he could keep you to himself for eternity he would; you were the only one to speak to him with full honesty. By admitting that you hated him once, yet had the room to grow, you had enchanted him; by telling the truth, you had accidentally made him realise that he loved you, though he hoped you would not unmask that side of him quite so easily.

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#megatron #megatron x reader #idw #the lost light #rodimus #ll #mtmte #more than meets the eye #idw transformers #transformers #reader #reader insert #maccadam #fanfiction #fanfic #removing the mask #holyfucksalt

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queenmuzz · 4 years

Text

Deep Blue Sea: Chapter XI

Father Knows Best

Read the full story on Ao3 Here

WARNING: WHILE THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN OUTRIGHT ABUSE, BE WARNED THAT PARENTAL EMOTIONAL CONFLICT IS INVOLVED. THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR FOR PARENTS, NOR SHOULD YOU BE FORCED TO ACCEPT IT, IF IT IS HAPPENING TO YOU.

The young man opened the door for you as you slowed to a stop under the alcove. He was impeccably dressed, and smiled professionally as he took your keys from you.

While he got in the driver's seat, you straightened your dress, your purse, and stiffened your posture. You’d gone so long without makeup, that by just putting it on this afternoon, you felt that old shot of confidence you felt when you first tried it as a teenager. And today, you’d need all the confidence you could muster.

Vergil that evening had seen you just before you headed out, and a couple of weeks ago, you’d have not batted an eyelash at his reaction. But now? With the knowledge that you’d gained?

“You look lovely,” he had said as you approached the glass. He’d been swimming lazy laps around, and stopped dead in his tracks, (or was it in mid stroke?) when he’d seen you, and you instantly flushed. Ever since your meeting with Vergil’s rambunctious sibling, every word, action, and smile was now interpreted under a filter of the feelings he felt for you.

Or was it now all unfiltered?

“Thank you Vergil,” you smiled as you put on your heels, (ugh, how you detested the things) and checked your makeup in the mirror one more time.

“What is the occasion?”

“Well, my father,” you could swear you saw him tense up, “has finally come home from his business venture, and has invited me out for dinner, so I have to dress up a bit, to keep up appearances.”

“You don’t seem to be looking forward to this”

Drat, the merman was far too observant for his own good. “Well, meetings with my father tend to have the added pressure of him mixing his business in everything, so I always kind of feel tense at these gatherings.”

“Will your future bondmate be there? Perhaps he will be able to smooth things out for you.”

You glanced down at the engagement ring that fit snugly around your finger. Was it just you, or did it feel heavier nowadays? And had the pink diamonds lost their sparkle? “Unfortunately, he’ll be gone for another week,”

“But isn’t your bonding ceremony very soon?” “Yeah, he’s gonna cut it real close…” you chuckled without any sort of happiness as you placed your handbag strap over your shoulder.

“Sifa?”

That damnable name. You should have asked him to stop, he would have acquiesced, if reluctantly. But you’d been selfish, and you liked the meaning behind it, so you let the tragic charade play out. But it wouldn’t be much longer now…

You summoned all your acting skills and pasted on a smile. “It’s just the stress of planning this whole thing, I’m glad it’s almost over.” You looked up at the clock, “Shoot, looks like I’m cutting it close now too, gotta go! Seeya later Vergil!” And you practically ran out the door, as fast as the wobbly shoes could take you.

“Ah, good to see you miss,” the maitre’d smiled graciously at you as you walked in, before grabbing a menu, “Your father is waiting for you, this way please.” You followed him to one of the private rooms. Thank God, you thought. You needed the much needed privacy for your conversation this evening.

“SWEETHEART!” Your father bellowed as he got out of his chair, and threw his arms around you in an embrace that you honestly had to admit you really missed. “How is my wonderful daughter doing? It feels like ages since I saw you last,” he sat down as a waiter refilled his glass of water, and then filled yours. He had a bowl of clam chowder in front of him, and at your place, there was an appetizer sized bowl of chicken caesar salad, “I took the liberty of ordering it for you, it’s always been your favourite. Now,” he said as he placed his spoon into the creamy concoction, “let’s enjoy this long overdue father-daughter date!”

“So, your future father-in-law was so busy showing me his gun collection that he forgot to set the timer on the oven, so I says to him ‘Jerry, you smell something burning?’ and he starts cursing in both English AND Japanese as we both race to the oven.” Your father dug into the roast baby potatoes “mmm, I missed this… Rice is no substitute to the humble tuber. Anyways, he and I open it up and it’s like the literal gates of hell with all the smoke pouring out. Couldn’t get the smell of burning bread out for weeks! And the poor loaf,” he looked genuinely mournful. “Snatched away far too soon, before it could even fulfil its destiny”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his dramatic re-enactment as you chewed a biteful of tortellini. Your father was right, it had been far too long since you’d spent time with him. His corny puns, his wacky stories, and his boasts. It made you almost forget why you were being tense around him.

“Ah yes,” he speared a cut of his steak, “almost forgot to pass along a message from Fredrick. He’ll be here in about a week, says he’s really sorry he didn’t come home sooner. Apparently there were some last minute certification delays with the government, But,” he said as he chewed “I’m sure you’ve got nearly everything under control. By the time he arrives, all he’ll need is a tux fitting, a low key bachelor party, and you’ll both be good to go!”

A waitress, dressed prim and proper poured both of you some wine. It was hard to ignore the way your father stared just a touch too intently at her form fitting dress as she bent slightly to pour you a glass.

When she had slipped out of sight, he chuckled, “there’s one thing I miss about Japan, it’s the ladies…” he stared into space for a little bit, before shaking his thoughts. You definitely did not want to know what he had been thinking. “So, you’ve probably been a busy bee, for the past few months, you must be grateful that your big day is almost here, and that your mother is finally off your case.”

“Yes… about that.” you wiped your mouth politely with a napkin, before taking a deep breath. It was time. It should have been done a long time ago, but it was now or never. Your father picked up on the change of tone and paused, his forkful of lobster halfway to his mouth.

“I… I don’t think I can go through with this.”

The only sound, aside from the distant murmurs of other diners outside your room, was a sharp CLINK as the seafood loaded fork clattered on the plate.

“Pardon?” he asked, unbelieving.

“I don’t think I can marry Fredrick.” you repeated. This was the moment, the cat was out of the bag, and you forced yourself to continue, refusing to meet your father’s dumbfounded gaze. “There’s nothing wrong with him, he hasn’t hurt me, or cheated on me, but I can’t see him as the man I would spend the rest of my life with, let alone raise a family, or run a business. I… I just don’t think we have what it takes…”

After a few moments of agonizing silence, and you grew the balls to look up at him.

He was just staring at you, before breaking out in laughter.

Your hands, currently on your lap, balled up into fists as he just threw back his head in uproarious cackling. Here you were, practically baring your soul to the man you trusted most in this world, and he had the fucking gall to laugh?

“Oh man,” he said, wiping up a stray tear, “Sweetheart, of all the jokes you could tell me, this is one of the more creative ones.” He was on attempt number two for the forkful of lobster.

“It’s not a joke, dad! I’ve never been so serious in my life! I’ve been thinking all these past few months,” you tried to keep your voice down, but your emotions, once held back by a dam, were now breaking through, “and I really believe getting married, right now, to this man is the wrong thing for both me and him.”

“Sweetheart,” your father crooned like you were a tantruming toddler, which made it even more infuriating, “I know what you’re feeling.”

“Then you agree?” you asked hopefully.

“You’re getting cold feet. It happens to a lot of newlyweds. Hell, it happened to me and your mom.”

“Yeah, and now you guys can’t stand to be in the same room as each other, so” you spread out your hands in a ‘duh’ motion. “I think that proves my point.”

Your father’s face darkened. “You have no idea what’s at stake here, how many connections will just be snapped in half if this wedding doesn’t go through. I’ve made so many deals, so many business negotiations with Fredrick’s family. All hinging on this one ceremony. Do you want to take all the hard work I’ve done and throw it all away?” “But-”

“And think what it will do to our family’s reputation, your reputation!?” He slammed the fork down, jostling the dishes on the table, causing you to jerk in surprise. It had been a long time since you had seen him angry, and frankly, it kinda scared you. “Your mother is going to be heartbroken, she’s wanted this to be the perfect wedding for you. And your bridesmaids! They look to you for leadership. Are you going to be the one to let them down, to have them think of you as the lady that was too cowardly to take that final step. And Fredrick! Are you willing to be remembered by him as the woman who broke his heart?”

“I-” you couldn’t respond. You had expected resistance to your decision, but not outright hostility. And as much as you hated to admit it, your father was right. This wedding, this marriage, it wasn’t just about you, it never had been. And as much as you tried to fight it, the damage you would cause by breaking this off would be catastrophic.

“Look”, your father’s voice returned to its gentle tone, “Don’t think I don’t care about you, nothing further could be from the truth, it’s just that I’ve been in your shoes before, and I know what’s best for you…”

“Dad…” you whispered, your eyes blurry from unwept tears, as your father slowly got up and walked to your side of the table, before wiping your eyes delicately with his napkin.

“Now, now,” he murmured as he smiled, “this is supposed to be a happy time. If it puts your mind at ease, I can have my lawyer draft you up an iron-clad prenup. That way, if things go pear shaped, you’ll be covered. But you said it yourself, Fredrick is a very nice man, and if I had the slightest inkling that he would hurt you, I would have never let him even meet you.” He knelt down, and placed both of his hands on your cheeks, “Just trust me...trust in yourself. You can do this.”

And that was it, you broke down in tears, the months of stress making you crumble in your father’s arms. He hugged you close as he murmured soft reasurances into your crown. And you believed him. You needed to go through with this.

After a few minutes, you felt emptied, like a wet towel that had been put through the wringer. The emotional weight was gone, but instead of feeling relieved, you just felt...hollow. Your father slowly let go of you and made his way back to his side of the table, almost as if nothing had even happened. Your breathing had almost returned to normal, but there was still an ache in your chest, as if you had almost drowned.

“Now,” your father said, as he raised up his glass in a toast. “To a promising future”

You raised up yours, and repeated numbly,

“To a promising future.”

******

You’d returned home, tossed your heels into the closet and went straight to the washroom to clean off the makeup, once immaculate, now smeared on your face. The valet’s look of concern and pity was too much to bear, and you slipped him a hundred just for him to stop looking at you that way.

It took several rinses to not only wash off the makeup, but to make your face look presentable to Vergil, to place that pleasant mask you had to wear for just a few more days. Checking your calendar, you assured yourself that in three days time, the full moon would appear, and the weather forecast had predicted clear skies. The stars...or in this case, the moon had aligned perfectly. All you needed now was to locate the damn sword. That would be easy though, the warehouse was the place Doctor Griffon kept his ‘research’, at the behest of your father, and there was a walk in safe there. You’d have to access security footage to make doubly sure, but if there was any place it could be, that would be it. You’d have to do the break in on the very night, to avoid any suspicion that a prison break was about to take place, but you had keys and knew codes. Just slip in, slip out, and drop Vergil off like he was a package. Simple.

It was actually making you feel better, as you typed on your laptop, with an oblivious Vergil chowing down on some ramen and a plateful of bacon nearby. The fact you had something that was 100 percent in your control, that you alone were responsible for, grounded you.

You watched the security feed, as the Good Doctor got ready to leave for the day. He was placing manilla folders in a filing cabinet located in the safe, its dim light making it hard to see-wait, there it was. Leaning against it, there was the familiar long slender case, unmistakable due to its size and shape. Doctor Griffon, obviously satisfied with his work for the day, looked to be whistling as he left. It would be a cinch to do this.

You closed the laptop, and looked up at Vergil, who was watching you with interest.

“How was your dinner?” he asked as he slurped up the last of the noodles.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” you lied. It was getting easier and easier to do. “Fredrick should be showing up next week, so all I gotta do is finish up the final touches, and…” either the wine or the play acting was affecting you, because your head was starting to ache.

“Are you alright, Sifa?” his voice seemed to take the pain away, slightly.

“Just tiredness, I suppose. All this planning has been keeping me up at night.” “Would you like me to sing?” he offered, and you were disinclined to accept, before your tiredness changed your mind.

“That would be very kind of you to do so, your singing is very soothing to me.”

He almost looked as if he was beaming as he opened his mouth to sing, his voice taking an echoy quality in the open space.

Isil shem’ore

Isil lin’ore

Mira pharar, mira ofar, mira kanar,

D’rashana karif’ore

Isil dilshonin sa oplalim

Sa kintal o sa polim

Sa racarto shipal o sa whelik

Nekalin parand’ore fa pishim

Ah, mira sifa, mira sifa

Winik fa pishim lin’more.

And as your mind slowly became comfortably numb to the day’s events, you idly wondered to yourself, Strange, I thought this was an ode to the Sun?

******

You weren’t quite sure what was more painful, the driving rain that beat into your exposed body like hail, or your fingertips as they clung to the craggy rock, being cut to ribbons as you lost and regained your grip on sharp edges.

Or maybe it was the gale-force winds screaming as they whipped around you, through you like knives of ice. Strange, the winds did not howl or scream, as winds ought to do. No that would have been preferable to what you heard. Snatches of voices, reminding you of your failures, of your shortcomings…

“Will you now….make me the luckiest man in the world?”

“I understand you're eager to put all your knowledge to good use, but you deserve a break”

“It doesn't speak, they don't have the intelligence to”

“Never satisfied with their lot in life, they take, and take, and take…”

“Look, my father said that was usually the reserve of the ladies, and you're getting a top notch wedding planner, so how hard could it be?”

“But you do not love him.”

“This is YOUR day, you need to go all out! With luck, this will be the most important day of your life.”

“This is supposed to be YOUR day, you shouldn’t be such a doormat”

“You don’t just call anyone Sifa, it's a fairly dedicated term, and Vergil wouldn’t just call you that if he didn’t mean it.”

“Sifa”

Out of nowhere you felt a calming presence holding you, protecting you from the brunt of the storm, but it still didn’t block out everything. But it was so comforting, so you relaxed for just a moment. That was a mistake, as your bloody fingertips slipped off the rock, and you began sliding into the churning waters below.

“SIFA!”

You awoke, gasping for air, hands gripping on nothing before you realized it had just been a nightmare, no doubt caused by the day’s events. You must have dozed off to Vergil’s singing, right there on the platform. Speaking of which… the only thing that remained of the dream was the sensation of being held….

Clammy webbed hands held you, ever so gently, around your waist, and spreading wetness was at your back. Usually, you’d find the coldness to be unpleasant, but instead, it felt… comforting. A stream of unintelligible soft words were being murmured into the back of your neck. “Vergil?” you hesitatingly asked.

“A nightmare, nothing more, Mira Sifa.” you felt his breath still momentarily, “it was the only way I could think of to calm you down, I will go, if you desire…”

What you SHOULD have done was to thank him graciously, but then get up, wish him goodnight and plod off to much needed sleep. You SHOULD not encourage these feelings you had for him, nor his for you. You SHOULD not endanger the new chapter of your life that was about to begin. But tonight….tonight, SHOULDS could go to hell. Tonight, you would be selfish, and you snuggled into his arms, earning a soft intake of breath as he continued to hold you, to softly sing you back into sleep, into dreams as calm as the waters beside you.

Ah, Mira Sifa, Mira Sifa…..

Winik fa pishim lin’more?

#Deep Blue Sea #Devil May Cry #vergil x reader #Mergill #Trust me #It hurt to write this #but it was a good pain

26 notes · View notes

nakoujou · 5 years

Text

Those Smiles

His whole life, Todoroki Shouto only cared about becoming the Number One Hero. But suddenly, he found himself buying overpriced tea and threatening the senpais in pursuit of another goal. (Todomomo one-shot)

--------

There were few things that Todoroki Shouto needed for a good life. Becoming the top hero for the people, unsoggy soba, and his father not being a jerk. As long as he had those three, he would be satisfied.

But then he made friends who inspired him to pursue a greater purpose. And some friends encourage him better than others. Particularly Yaoyorozu Momo in more ways he could have predicted.

She had complimented on his exciting internship with Bakugo and Midoriya, especially when the three were declared to be the future Top Three by the media. Todoroki had brushed it aside, but Yaoyorozu refused to let him be humble.

“You should be proud! Not everybody can do that! I mean, I’m still with Uwabami, so...not much happens beyond her fan meetups. And you know, my Quirk isn’t that useful on the battlefield since I have to rely on a lot of eating beforehand-”

She spiraled into her ramblings, her voice weakening upon entering her own limitations and plateau and more things that cause her smile to fade. This part of Yaoyorozu, he discovered, was another bothersome thing to grey his life. Like any hero in training, he controled the situation immediately.

“You're strong, Yaoyorozu,” Todoroki interrupted her. “...You’ll be a good hero.”

For a moment, Todoroki wasn’t sure if he said the right words. But then, her smile gradually returned, and a strange warm sensation spread within Todoroki that wasn’t there before.

“Thank you, Todoroki-san.”

He hoped that smile never goes away. Maybe, Todoroki decided, he can make that happen as her friend.

As they advance to second year, Todoroki wondered if the gods were messing with him. If they fed him this selfish desire for his raven-hair classmate beyond friendship. That he could not be satisfied until then.

Little things changed first. Although Yaoyorozu offered her tea to the entire class, Aoyama was notorious for hogging them. Days before midterms, Aoyama was the victim of everybody’s death glare for using up Yaoyorozu’s supply.

“Mou, now I have to wait ‘til Mother returns to England,” Yaoyorozu sighed, dejected at the empty tea drawer.

“As your president, I promise to lecture Aoyama-kun and restock your tea!” Iida declared.

“It’s okay, Iida-san! I'll be good for midterms,” Yaoyorozu assured him, smiling gently.

That was a lie, and he disliked seeing her force out that polite smile. When they left the kitchen, Todoroki grabbed the empty box, ran back to his room, and opened his laptop. This act of kindness, he discovered later that week, was not normal to do for a friend.

“Eh?! How did you get it so fast?!” Yaoyorozu asked, puzzled when Todoroki presented her with the large box.

“Online.”

“But Todoroki-san, the shipping must have been high, and you bought so much...” Yaoyorozu looked away, and he could see a blush creep on her cheeks.

“It wasn’t expensive,” Todoroki replied. “You need your favorite tea to study well.”

He liked doing this, along with the funny, nice feeling that followed when he saw Yaoyorozu smile. He wasn’t sure how to describe what was happening to him, this need to do it over again. Whatever consequences should come to him, Todoroki would gladly take it.

Including a deadly phone call from his father after the monthly credit card bill came.

“SHOUTO WHY DID YOU WASTE $200 ON WHITE PEOPLE TEA?!”

And sometimes, the little things were not so innocent.

They often sparred against each other on the weekends. Todoroki didn’t always get the upper hand. Yaoyorozu would find ways to catch him off guard, an admirable sign of her own improvement. Until both messed up and eventually, collapse on each other. When Todoroki toppled over her, it was the first time he understood how dangerous their spars could be to his mental composure.

She was too close, but Todoroki couldn’t bring himself to get up. Instead, he stared into her gunmetal eyes, just as wide as his. Her chest was heaving into his, and he was too aware that they were touching everywhere but their own faces. Hell, their foreheads were grazing each other, lips so close he could feel their breaths mingling.

He could, if he wanted to. He was already leaning toward her, and unless Todoroki was imagining, so was Yaoyorozu...

“15 MINUTES UNTIL CURFEW!”

Iida’s scream jolted the two back to their senses again. Particularly Yaoyorozu. Gasping, she immediately pushed Todoroki off.

“G-Goodnight, T-Todoroki!” She muttered before sprinting back to the dorm.

He couldn’t process what just happened, nor did he want to. He would escape this mental complication with a shower. A long, cold shower.

Then there were moments when Todoroki didn’t know what to do. Scary to be specific, one that exceeded his own ability to rescue others.

She killed someone for the first time. A small villain caught Yaoyorozu off guard during a drug raid from her internship. She had panicked and did what was necessary to protect others, Todoroki assumed. Apparently, it was not easy for Yaoyorozu to believe that.

“She didn’t eat today,” Jiroh muttered, holding a barely touched rice bowl. Every night, each classmate took turns convincing Yaoyorozu to come out. Hell, even Bakugo offered despite his disastrous shouting attempt. Except for bathroom sightings, Yaoyorozu hadn’t left her room since. She wouldn’t even return to her parents nor attend class.

He scaled the roof until he found Yaoyorozu’s window. When he stepped into her room, he found her curled under her blanket, her face buried into her pillow. She didn’t move as Todoroki stopped at her bedside.

“Yaoyorozu, can we talk?”

“I’m tired.”

“Everybody is worried, “He pressed on.

“I just need to sleep. Please leave me alone.”

Withdrawn, cold, lifeless. This was not the Yaoyorozu he knew, not the one who made him feel that the world was just and fair. He was scared that Yaoyorozu revealed her true self right there, one he couldn’t confidently stick with.

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he sat down on her bed, hating himself for taking too long to even think of what to say. Why couldn’t he provide the same calming, warm presence that she did for him? How was he terrible with something as simple as comforting her? Especially when Yaoyorozu needed someone the most?

“You had to protect yourself and the others,” Todoroki felt his own voice trembling. “Any hero would have done the same-”

“Heroes don’t kill, no matter what!” She sat up abruptly. Todoroki knew his attempt failed when he met fury within her glare. Not a single hint of the usual kindness she gave everyday before then. He was ready to run until he saw tears brimming around her eyes.

“I could have stopped him without ending his life. What if he had a family? What if he redeemed himself after? What i-i-if-damnit, I’m so weak and stupid-!”

He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her slim frame.

Idiot, he thought to himself. This was a bad move. Yaoyorozu was still shaking, and he winced as she started punching his chest.

“L-L-Let me go, Todoroki...p-please...!”

Maybe it was wrong to grab Yaoyorozu in her most vulnerable state; an unwanted, non-consensual hug as she beat the shit out of his upper body. But his own words were not working, and instinct told him to catch her before she broke down. To hold her as her screams fell into soft whimpers, her aggressive fists now gripping his shirt. As she calmed down, Todoroki started to rub her back, hoping it would soothe her even by a bit.

“I’m happy that you’re still here.” With me.

He kept her within his embrace until she fell asleep and stayed with her for the rest of the night. As he watched her sleep peacefully from the chair, Todoroki learned a hard lesson.

Yaoyorozu Momo was not a perfect person. Her plethora of insecurities may never go away. She could be terrible to deal with. If he still wanted to pursue this strange joyous feeling around Yaoyorozu, he would not always get it. There will be times she doesn’t want to smile because the world can be cruel.

She’s worth it, he reminded himself upon waking up to Yaoyorozu’s face. He may have been drowsy and sore, but he saw the smallest glimpse of her smile. The first sign of her recovery. Waking up to her every morning, Todoroki thought, would be nice.

Dealing with Yaoyorozu at her worst should have driven him away. Instead, Todoroki found himself more protective of her own well-being. Particularly around U.A.’s male population. The seniors began noticing Yaoyorozu as more than Class A’s Vice President, according to the girls’ gossip. He couldn’t go one week without hearing about a stupid male asking out Yaoyorozu, often in front of his own eyes.

But one specific guy irked Todoroki. Hiden-senpai was the most stubborn of them all, a big, brawny third year with no sense of personal space when it came to Yaoyorozu.

“Come on, Yaoyorozu, we’re both single and could use a good time in bed,” Hiden-senpai smirked. Todoroki saw the senpai reach for her chin before Yaoyorozu moved back in the hallway.

“I’m sorry, Hiden-senpai, but I can’t go out with you.”

“If you’re trying to be a real hero, then you don’t want me saying bad things about you, right? I am a sidekick for the #7 hero.”

Todoroki didn’t understand dating, but he knew it shouldn’t start like this. Yaoyorozu normally could control the situation, but this was not going well. His fist clenched as the senpai hovered closer to Yaoyorozu, who gasped when her back met the wall.

“Hiden-senpai, forgive me but I need to study,” Yaoyorozu side stepped him until Hiden grabbed her arm.

“Oh, I can help you study. Books, your body, you name it-”

Todoroki stopped thinking. Within seconds, he lunged at the two, grabbed the senpai’s shirt collar and slammed him against the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Hiden-senpai yelled.

“Todoroki-san!” Yaoyorozu gasped.

“Don’t touch her...or else,” Todoroki growled, steam seeping from his hot fingers around Hiden-senpai’s throat. His flames would have burst if Midnight-sensei didn’t knock him out.

He expected their interaction to be tense after Midnight’s rant on unsupervised Quirks and the spirit of youth. Yaoyorozu, however, was more than displeased.

“You can’t disrespect our senior like that,” Yaoyorozu lectured him.

“He threatened to ruin your hero career if you didn’t sleep with him. What’s there to respect?!”

“I was about to push him off, “ she insisted.

“I don’t care.”

“Why does this matter to you?"

There were many things he wanted to say in response. It was a hero’s duty to protect those in need. He didn’t want weirdos bothering a friend. That his temper would flare whenever he saw guys flirting with her. But none of those reasons escaped, and he settled for less.

“You’re my friend, and friends look out for each other.”

He knew she wanted to hear more than that. Her fallen shoulders and disappointed eyes proved so. Even then, she managed a faint smile.

“I see,” she muttered, her lips struggling to maintain that happy facade.

“Thank you, Todoroki-san. You’re a really good friend.”

He never thought those words could sting him.

Although hope remained, the longing to be more for Yaoyorozu became too much for Todoroki to handle. He couldn’t explain these feelings yet. They did not reach the levels of “love” but certainly heading on that path. Consequently, he unleashed these so-called feelings on Yaoyorozu before he could realize it.

It happened on a quiet Sunday morning. There was nothing special about that day. He found her washing dishes with messy hair, no makeup and baggy pajamas. This wasn’t Yaoyorozu at her prettiest, yet he could imagine every morning like this beyond U.A.

“Ah, good morning, Todoroki-san!” She noticed him, greeting cheerfully.

Yaoyorozu proceeded with her normal ramblings; freshly brewed coffee was ready, today was bathroom cleaning day, group study session was at three, and so on. Todoroki didn’t hear the rest because he blurts the question he had been holding out on for the last year.

“Do I make you happy, Yaoyorozu?”

“Eh?” Yaoyorozu blushed, followed by a concerned expression. “Where did this come from? Of course you make me happy. You’re one of my dearest friends.”

“Would you be happier if we were more than friends?”

Another bad thing to say, Todoroki thought, as he watched Yaoyorozu drop the dish sponge. Her entire body shook before slowing turning to face him.

“Todoroki-san, what are you trying to say?” She asked nervously. She was hesitant to believe his words to be true, her eyes wide and frighten. Todoroki couldn’t blame her, so he begins as earnest as he could.

“I like spending time with you. I think about you when we’re not hanging out. I’m stressed when you’re not happy and relieved when you are. I don’t know if I’m the best choice for you, but if you allow me...” Todoroki paused, not realizing he was already walking toward Yaoyorozu, who leaned against the kitchen sink.

The logical part of him screeched how this made zero sense in his hero journey. But as he stared into Yaoyorozu’s eyes - with all her love and kindness and insecurities within - he regained his commitment for this new goal in life.

“I will do my best to make you smile everyday.”

“And how would that be different than just...” Yaoyorozu asked softly, stepping closer to him until their bodies were grazing each other. “...being friends?”

Todoroki thought that maybe she was in denial or worse, did not return those feelings. But her eyes kept darting between his eyes and lips, as he did to hers. She wasn’t asking for it, no. Yaoyorozu was inviting him to communicate those feelings in his preferred way; no words, just doing it.

”Like this,” Todoroki whispered before pressing his lips to hers.

Soft was the first thing that came to mind as he kisses Yaoyorozu. Followed by the warm sensation he always felt whenever he was around her. Except, this time was different. He felt enveloped in an unusual aura of safety and joy that he didn’t know he needed. One that increased as her hands held onto his shoulders.

They broke free sooner than Todoroki wanted, both wide-eyed and shaken from what just happened. He wrapped one arm around Yaoyorozu’s waist and buried his other hand into her hand, steadying her balance as they got lost in each other’s soft gaze.

“W-Was that okay?” Todoroki asked. He worried that this was the wrong move, for Yaoyorozu didn’t say anything for a long minute. But then her lips curve into a big smile, followed by the gentlest chuckle. He was convinced that Yaoyorozu’s laughter - alongside her wonderful smile - could rescue him from his worst nightmares.

“It was perfect,” she replied, leaning toward him. Todoroki pulled her closer, eager to capture her lips once more until-

“NO ITS NOT, YA CHEESY HALFIE SHIT!” Bakugo screeched from the kitchen counter. “DON’T MAKE OUT WHERE I EAT MY OATMEAL!”

Not that he could care less for Bakugo’s breakfast routine. As long as he could make Yaoyorozu Momo smile and laugh, Todoroki Shouto knew he would lead a good life.

-----

Ahh, can’t believe I finished this given how long it was. Thank you everybody who voted on my poll; it really helped me get productive with my fanfiction writing. Please let me know if you have any feedback as I’m always happy to grow my writing.

Love,

Nakoujou

#todomomo #todomomo fanfiction #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #fanfiction #one-shot

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doodles-arts · 5 years

Text

My ROOf!

Leonardo x reader

from this prompt

I couldn’t hold back and just HAD to write ”☕️” with Leonardo!

The turtles were patrolling like any other night. Unconsciously, the boys stayed a little too long a certain building, it might have been the perfect view from it, where they could see the horizon of the city or it was the sickly sweet smell of pastries. Donuts, cake and muffins.

Unfortunately, their too long stake on the building cost them a very classic ambush. The boys fought hard against the hoard of foot soldiers who found them distracted. But because of the sheer number of them it caused a few slips. Example? Mikey, feeling so sure of himself, that two-foot soldiers crept upon him and the first punched him upwards while the second slammed him downwards onto the building.

However, this particular building of sweet treats was a family heirloom. So the building was very old and the last time it had seen renovations was probably when your grandmother had married your grandfather and begged him to clean the place up!

Mikey was about 200 pounds at least! And well, the roof had never felt a 200-pound weight turtle being slammed into it at 25 mph. The roof couldn't hold and swallowed him up, Mikey disappeared into the building. The foot soldiers froze and so did the other brothers, there wasn’t much time until they were caught. Thankfully Leo reacted fast enough and fought the frozen soldiers off and his two other brothers joined in, following after his reaction.

You were in front of the shop, closing up and cleaning the pastry display. When all of a sudden you heard a huge crack, a bump, and multiple clashes, as well as few shattering glasses. You jumped up like a cat, sure, you knew how to deal with a cranky or violent customer, but if this was a robber, you didn't have a clue! Picking up a broom, in a last attempt to defend yourself and your shop. You crept into the back to find a giant hole in your roof, and turtle-no, man? On your floor. Whatever it was, it was huge and knocked tf out.

The first thing that actually registered in your mind was though…

”my roof?” You stared absently and in frozen horror at the hole in your bakery’s roof. You didn't even register the 3 other turtle men trying to wake up the one responsible for...

”MY ROOF!”

Now in complete honesty, Leonardo hadn't expected for you to care all that much about your roof when there were 4 mutants were in your shop. But he wasn’t all that surprised either, there was a giant hole in your roof because of Micky. Now what had truly confused him was the broom you used to wack each of the turtles on their shells. ”H-HEY! You're not taking him anywhere! He's responsible for my roof! He's gonna have to p-pay for the damages!!”

Before Leo could give the say so, Raph took the lead and just when you were going to hit the biggest of the turtles a second time, he whirled around and caught it in his three-fingered hand. This grabbed and threw all your confidence on the floor.. And then stepped on it until it cracked and broke. and possibly ran to a corner to cry...

”We ain't gonna pay for anything ’cause we can’t. So unless you like looking at a group of freaks all night, move aside and keep quiet.” he grabbed your broom and threw it aside. You swallowed the thick lump that formed in your throat. Stepping forwarding even though your last attempt was futile, you tried again. ”but, my roof.”

You once again stepped forward, eyes wide in fear, watery because you tried to fight back tears. It was hard being an owner to an indie bakery in New York City and was a curse in the summer. Cafe tourists only come around to a shop like yours in the fall and winter. And your savings we're coming to an end. You couldn't afford to fix this roof!

It might have been the please in your voice, the hopelessness in your eyes. Or just the plain guilt of his little brother breaking your roof. (it was your pretty face and sweet voice though).

”Miss was very sorry, my brother-we don't mean to be harsh, it's just that we can't really pay for these damages,'' he patted your shoulder, trying desperately to calm you down. ”wait! Please, I'm sure we can work something out!” you called out desperately. Donnie picking up on the potential storyline, and stepped in, ”we could work on the roof at night, instead of paying for it.”

You gulped, glowing at the request, ”if you really could, I'd appreciate it greatly!” you said, even though in theory, they should be doing it.

And surprisingly, Donnie was very good at rebuilding.

That was about a month ago, and every time the turtles would stop by to work on the roof at ungodly hours, you always had a fresh treat for them. They appreciated it and so did Leo!

He enjoyed your sweet and calm demeanor. You always tried to help and sent them home with sweet treats every time. Feeling bad for making them work on your roof even though it was their fault initially. Once they finished the roof you and Leo kept in touch, it sure came in handy!

However, there was one good thing about you having your own shop. On Sunday's you usually came to the shop, even though it was closed, you came in to work on new recipes and check if all supplies were in stock. That’s when Leo would try to drop by, seeing as your back door has no camera’s he could just knock and you’d sit him down for a talk, tea and scones.

However today was different, this Sunday he wanted to finally come clean. He wanted to confess that he’d grown attached to you. But when he dropped down in front of the door, it was ajar. That was strange, you always locked it, instincts kicking in; he strode in. The sight of you cornered in the backroom while low life purple dragons threaten you for money, while you tried to negotiate with them was truly maddening. All he wanted to see was red!

He stepped in and your whole face lit up, you knew you were safe now. No way these purple dragons were going to be let off the hook. He stepped out into the light and the older boys of the group growled. Apparently they knew your leader in blue. “I think it would be in your best interest to leave this young lady alone, and never come back.”

You smiled harder at his protective nature. One of the older looking dragons step forward, spitting on the floor next to Leo, “Hey! I just mopped”. Before the man could reply a snarky comment, Leo punched him in the stomach, grabbed his arm with his left and the man's shoulder with the right. Flipping the man and sending him flying, thankfully only knocking over a few chairs and knocking the man unconscious indefinitely. You let the breath you were holding go, Leo turned around and smiled sheepishly, you never really did well with violence. It frightened you, honestly.

You gasped as another dragon lunged at a distracted Leo and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Thankful for his ninja fast reflexes, the knife wielding fist of the man and twisted all the way back until the he yelped in pain. Afterwards he roundhouse kicked another that had stepped forward to assist his fellow dragon. You ran out of your corner to quickly pick up the cake stand holding your newest creation as a fourth dragon was flown in to the said table. He quickly got up and yelled a war cry as he gave Leo a second go.

“WATCH THE GLASS PLEASE!” You called out to Leo. Catching a vase that was just about to fall because of another purple dragon hit the table the vase was perched on. Placing the glass cake stand on another table, which seemed in a safer spot than it was before. Putting the vase behind the counter and almost flying across the bakery to save another centerpiece you hadn’t put away yet.

You were amazed at Leo’s mere strength and his careful fighting, the way his muscles bulged. His rock hard calves- The tip jar! You almost fell as you slid across back to the counter to grab the jar. Breathing in relief you turned to look at Leo. You grinned at your turtle friend, he was very close to you. And tonight was proof that you meant a lot to him too.

Leo waited for you in the alley as you called the police. They interrogated you and asked you about the vigilante, and you simply said all you saw was blue, as you were too frightened and hid under the counter. After about 4 hours and the night held up to some ungodly hour you began cleaning up the shop once the police left. So exhausted you forgot to look for Leo after the police left, however he walked in to you putting the chairs up and helped. What a sweetheart.

“Oh, Leo, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot to go get you” he waved you off. “It’s alright, you seemed very occupied”, you smiled at him once all the chairs were up and went to the set up table, and set up a box of treats for him, and a few for yourself. “Come on, why don’t you and me go to my place. I’ll treat you to some tea!”

He tried to politely decline, saying he would be imposing after such a night. “Don’t be silly Leo! Come, I already cleaned all the tea machines, but I have one at home. I’m inviting you, so don’t decline my kind offer!” You chuckled knowing he’d have to cave after that response.

As you drove home and he followed you on the roof tops, he wondered when would he ever tell you? He watches as you walked into your apartment and fiddled with the keys. You tidied up the house and walked towards your fire escape and opened it up, peeking your head out to look for Leonardo. You almost screamed as he jumped down on the fire escape. Moving aside with a smile, “welcome to my humble abode!” Letting him look around and inspect your living room. After he walked in, you closed the window and slid the blinds closed, in case anyone looked through your window.

He loved your tiny home, with all the pretty decorations and doll like touches. It was homey, made him feel warm and he loved it. “Come sit at the table, I’ll get the tea ready! What would you like?” He was looking at the centerpiece on your table, peeking into his treat box when he replied, “anything’s fine, really”. You rolled your eyes, knowing he didn’t really mean that. He was just too polite to ask for anything else. So use to your shop that he went back to square one because of the whole new environment.

You brewed up some water, taking out some sleeping herbs to mix into some jasmine tea. You were gonna need it after the long night you had. “Well the water is brewing, want to play some cards? Or look through my books?”

Leo has a knack for looking through the books you collected for the bakery or borrowing the ones you had on hand to read during breaks. He smiled at this request and you led him to the shelf of books you had. Every time he looked through one you’d explain, trying to help him choose. You knew he’d return it the second he was done, he had already done it to the other two you had lent him.

He finally settled on the last book you read ’three dark crowns’. You went to serve the tea and set out the sugar, “I brought some scones from the shop to bring home. It’ll be like always!”

You both sat and talked, drinking tea and scones. Have you always been this cute? And had Leo always been this bashful? Sure once and a while he got insanely polite, but you found it cute. Never had he been bashful about it though. The way he spoke with you quietly, as if afraid to frighten you while never looking at you. His eyes kept fluttering away from yours bashfully. It was s o cute.

“Gosh today was insane! You really are great!” He smiled bashfully staring intently at his tea. “Yes, thank you.”

He was being awfully shy and you really liked it, you loved your turtle friend, maybe more than usual. He deserved these compliments! “I’m honestly surprised you were able to just beat those guys so quick without breaking a single thing! That takes skill!” He chuckled once more and thanked you. You put a hand on his arm, “Leo, your such a wonderful fighter! I can’t even begin to thank you for what you did tonight. Not to mention all the nights you’ve kept me company, all the nights you’ve read with me and helped me with the shop. You’ve been such a wonderful friend, and I hope we always have each other.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, was…was this your way of hinting to something else? Were you trying to say something? Because if you did, this might mean.. “always?” You giggles at his breathless tone, “of course silly, you mean a lot to me, ever since these last two months, I’ve considered you a great friend!”

His Heart could have snapped and climbed out of his mouth right on the table. Of course you never meant that. He was foolish to think that a human would find a mutant attractive. Ridiculous to feel this way towards another human without a second thought. Standing up abruptly, “it’ll be morning soon, I should get going.”

You were confused at this brash action, “well yes, but that’s alright, you can stay here. I’ll be taking the day off because of tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He felt his chest hardened at the sound of your invitation. He couldn’t let his imagination take advantage of it, and he wasn’t going to let it either. Couldn’t allow himself to daydream possibilities that just weren’t there..

“No, I’ll be alright.” He knew he was being harsh, but playing in your hands was going to ruin your friendship. He didn’t want to lose you completely because he couldn’t have more of what he already had; you. “Leo, sweetie, what’s wrong? Have I said something?” Standing up next to him, ready to walk him out, knowing you shouldn’t hold him captive!

He shook his head slowly, dragging his feet back to his fire escape. “Now wait a minute, wait a minute!” You said while holding his arm. “I know you, sweetie! Now sit back down and tell me what’s really wrong. You can tell me anything!” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he knew he couldn’t tell you this. It wasn’t right and he was certain you weren’t expecting it.

But you still tried to pull his arm back towards the table. He didn’t budge. He instead pulled you in to his arms, no longer feeling like he should hold back on holding you. Friends held each other like this, right? Holding you close, but not in a bold way. Holding you by your left arm and reaching up to your right cheek. “As much as I’d like to believe that, I know I can’t truly tell you.” Staring into your beautiful round eyes and mesmerizing them as much as he could. Knowing he wouldn’t have this opportunity again.

You froze, flustered and in shock, Leo took his leave, knowing he should leave you to gather your thoughts. As he left, you touched your cheek, trying to remember his warm touch on you. Something new fluttered inside of you. Something familiar but distant that always stirred in you when he was around. But you for once you decided to acknowledged it. Did.. did Leo share feelings for you?

More importantly, did you?

The rest of the night you thought of him and his warm hands on you. You dreamed of him throughout the night, his warm hands holding you. In the dream though they felt more possessive, more loving. And you loved every second of it, and missed it in the morning after you awoke.

You had your answer, and you still had his box of treats on your living room table. He must have forgotten them on his rushed way out. The whole day you tried to sort your thoughts of last night. Trying your best to really think through your emotions, boys were your worst trait. Being committed to a man before cost you plenty.

You had loved a man before and been deceived, loved another and been used, loved a third and been manipulated for money. Almost losing your beloved bakery to a scammer. Could Leo really be any different? There was one difference though, you never actively looked for that type of attention from Leo like you had from all your past lovers. This time there was a man who was hoping for you.

A week passed and Leo never dropped by the shop anymore. You grew anxious, desperate even. Sending him a text to finally make up your mind.

“Hey Leo! You left your treats at my house, thought you’d like some fresher ones. Pass by for some.”

…

”Okay, sure!”

This calmed your nerves. Perhaps him being less put off by the last night made you feel better. How wrong you were, he was basically shaking every passing moment before you texted. Fearing he had overstepped his boundaries when he held you. But your energetic text reassured him.

The next night he stopped by when he noticed the blinds to the shop were closed. Walking through the back to see you sweeping. Knocking on the counter to catch your attention.

“Hey, I’m here”, you swung around, surprise and delight evident on your face. “I’m glad, I already wrapped the treats up. I made a new recipe, a red velvet muffin, tell me what the boys and you think” you said, putting down two chairs and heating up some water, “chai or regular?” You spoke faster than usual, your nerves were very obvious.

Yes, your turtle friend was a fan of chai tea!

“Uh, regular is fine, thank you.” You nodded and set the water to heat up. And as you drank your tea, you spoke small talk as always. But something was off, it was obvious but neither off you acted on it. The air had a scent of tension among the sweet smell of sugar and tea.

As he finished and stood up while you put the cups away, you noticed his head hung low in embarrassment. Your heart clenched, no way would you leave this unsaid.

“Wait”, you called out and ran around the counter to reach him. Your cheeks heating up as you thought of what to say, stuck in front of him with your mouth gaping like a fish. “It’s really okay cookie, (nickname Mikey gave you and the boys stuck too) you don’t have to talk about it-“

“Hold me.” He froze, blinked, and looked you up and down. Where you sick? “Wha-“

“I want you to hold me, like… like yesterday”, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing… you wanted him to hold you? Did this mean- “Please?” Before he could respond, you shuffled up to him and placed your two hands flat on his plastron and laid your head against him.

His heart was slamming against your rib cage, he prayed you didn’t hear it. Slowing wrapping his arms around your own tiny form. Rubbing your back as your own hands roamed his chest and his scaly shoulders. For a ninja turtle who lived in the sewers, he smelled just like jasmine tea and smoked oak wood. You couldn’t help the need to reach up and wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead in the crook of his neck.

He could see you tiptoeing in order to hug him around the neck and he couldn’t hold back his grin. “Your tiny”, he mumbled. You smiled and pulled back. “Leo, I have something to tell you.”

He smiled sheepishly, “I do too. And I’m going to go on a whim here and guess that you and I are going to agree” you giggled, fiercely pulling him closer your face and you stood flat on your feet, pulling him down as you did so. “You’d be Right!”

You leaned in, almost kissing when you stopped. Leaning against his plastron, “Leo, I really like you. But I’m scared. I really am. Just… just treat me right Leo. That’s all I’m asking for.” Hugging around his neck even harder. You wouldn’t survive another heart break.

He gently pried you off and grabbed your chin, “cookie, ever since I met you, I felt bad for letting Raph bad mouth you. I don’t ever want to hurt you, I want to have the pleasure of getting to love you”.

“I think I can live with that…” You tiptoed your way back up to his lips, gently pecking them, testing the waters. As he followed the rhythm of your lips as you both indulge into the taste of the other. Your sweet and slow kiss had turned from innocent, to passionate. Leonardo’s tentative licks on the bottom of your lip was what reminded you were you were. Bringing you back to life and pulled your chin out of his hand, you couldn’t make out with him in the middle of your cafe!

“Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.” He said while panting against your forehead. You giggled, “it’s okay, but I think I’m going to have to put some brakes on you big boy!”

You both laughed in each other’s embrace.

#leonardo x reader #leonardo #leo #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #tmnt fanfiction #my fanfiction #fanfic #tmnt fanfic #baker!reader #tmnt 2014 #raphael #donatello #Michalangelo #michaelangelo #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles #writing tag

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inquisitorcastellanos · 4 years

Text

The Guardian

AKA Hayden and I guess this is their introduction. It got a bit longer than planned but hey. My baby deserves the world.

“Someone’s coming down the road,” John says. “On foot.”

Hosea turns and squints in the direction that John points. When he can’t see anything, he turns to Arthur and holds out his hand. “Lend me your binoculars, Arthur,” he says.

Arthur rummages through his bag for a short moment, and when he finds his old binoculars, he hands them over to the older man. “What do you make of ’em?” he asks after Hosea’s spend a few moments looking at the approaching body.

“Take a look for yourself,” Hosea says and tosses the binoculars back. He looks amused, maybe even a little bit curious.

John fishes his own binoculars from his bag and looks too.

The figure that approaches looks slim, but they’ve got a large sheet of metal strapped to their back. They walk as if they don’t have a care in the world. It looks almost as if they’re on a stroll or a pointless wander for fun. Their clothes, however, suggests otherwise.

“An odd sight,” Hosea says after John and Arthur have gotten a good look at the approaching stranger. “Odd, but not unwelcome.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” John asks, glaring at the old man. “You know her?”

Hosea shrugs easily and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth as he leans back in his saddle. “It means that I did not think I’d ever see any of her kind again,” he says.

“Her kind?” Arthur looks puzzled.

“A guardian,” Hosea explains.

Arthur brings his binoculars up again. “What’s a guardian? She with the law?”

Chuckling softly, Hosea shakes his head and digs into the pockets of his coat in the search for his smokes. “Guardian’s are a dying breed,” he mutters. He finds a small carton and pulls a slim white cigarette from it. “Much like us outlaws, they used to be everywhere… now you should consider yourself lucky to spot one.” He sticks the cigarette between his lips and replaces the package into his pocket.

John and Arthur exchange looks before they turn back to look at the stranger walking down the road. They don’t look that out of place. The only thing, other than her clothing, that displaces her is the shield on her back. It’s silvery and has a strange crest engraved on it.

“How exactly do you know she’s one of them guardians?” Arthur asks. “For all you know, she could be some maniac that runs around with… that thing on her?”

Again, Hosea chuckles. “My eyes might not be what they used to, but I know a guardian when I see one,” he assures him. “It looks as if she’ll pass us right by.”

“And what should we do?” John asks.

“Be polite, of course. Or have you lost all your manners, Marston?” Hosea sighs.

As the guardian draws closer, it also becomes apparent that they’re taller than either of them anticipated. Arthur figures that they’re the same height as John, but he can’t tell without having John get off his horse to stand next to them.

The guardian smiles at them when they come walking, a friendly and polite smile that is strangely disarming. “Good morning,” they murmur briefly. Their voice is deep and not what the men had expected.

“Good morning, guardian,” Hosea says, which makes the stranger stop and turn to him with another, slightly wider smile. It almost looks as if they’re pleased to be recognized. “How fares the road?”

“Things are stirring in the west. I would not suggest riding any further than Blackwater for the time being,” they say. “The law is uneasy and doesn’t take kindly to those that pass through.”

Arthur snorts. “Trust me. We ain’t going that way anytime soon.”

The guardian smiles at him. “Good choice,” they say. “How are things looking in these parts? Has there been any trouble?” They turn and look to Hosea, that has yet to find a match for his cigarette.

“The only trouble here is poor Arthur,” John says. “Trouble on legs.”

“Hey,” Arthur complains. “I’m no more trouble than you, Marston.”

“Come now, boys,” Hosea says. “Don’t go and give the lady any ideas.”

The guardian chuckles softly. A strangely low sound that rolls from the pit of their stomach. “I will take it that there is no immediate trouble in or around Rhodes, then,” they say. “Have you been in Rhodes lately?”

Hosea nods. “Yes, for a few weeks, and it looks as if we’re here to stay for a while more,” he says. “Are you headed there?”

“I am.”

“Would you care for some company on the road?” Hosea asks.

“I would not say no to some company,” the guardian says.

With a smile, Hosea opens his mouth to speak again only to be interrupted by the bang of a gunshot. The three men all duck down in their saddles, but Arthur’s horse bucks and throws him to the ground with an untimely kick.

In the distance, from the north, a gang of masked men rides towards them. They appear to be highway robbers, Lemoyne Raiders, equipped with flimsy weapons but overwhelming in number.

Arthur curses as he lies on the ground, disoriented and confused from the impact. His horse has taken off, and John jumps off his horse and sends it after Arthur’s. Then he draws his gun and returns fire at the raiders.

“Idiots!” John snarls. “Broad daylight and out in the open…”

“Shut up and get rid of them.”

Bullets whizz past them, and Hosea takes after John, slipping out of the saddle and taking cover behind a rock. “Drive ’em off, boys,” he says. “And quick.”

Arthur gathers himself and rolls over to stand, but in the corner of his eye, he can see someone aiming their rifle right at him, and he isn’t sure if he can get out of the way in time.

Then suddenly, there’s a hand on top of his hat that pushes his head down into the dirt. “Get down!” The guardian tells him. They’ve pulled their shield from their back and drives it into the ground before Arthur. The shield remains standing upright, even when they let it go, and the metal rings as bullets bounce off it. The sound like a chime. With a long stride, the guardian steps up beside John and passes him to stand in front of them.

“Are you insane?” John shouts. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Get down, John!” Hosea hisses from his spot a few yards back.

“But-”

“I said, get down!”

John lets another string of swears roll from his tongue as he pulls back to where Arthur sits crouched behind the oddly placed shield.

The guardian stands above them and waves their hand through the air. Light emits from the tips of their fingers, painting the air around them bright blue.

The oncoming bullets bounce off the sprays of color, ricocheting left and right, and for a moment, everyone stops and stares. The strange light and the bullets being ineffective drives the bandits back.

“Holy hell! You seeing this shit?”

“I’m seeing something. Let’s get out of here!”

As quickly as they appeared, the strangers scatter and disappear out of sight, leaving only hoofprints and a cloud of kicked-up dust behind.

The guardian makes sure that they are gone before they wave their hand again, dispersing the color in the air and turning back to the men behind them. “Are you alright?” they ask them. “Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Hosea says.

The guardian walks over to him and offers him a hand and pulls him back up to his feet. “Your horses ran off, but I hope that they’re all unhurt.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Hosea says, brushing some dust off his coat. “Thank you for your timely rescue. We would have been in trouble if you hadn’t been here.”

John and Arthur, that have barely been able to collect themselves, stare as the stranger walks over and pulls the shield from the ground and replaces it on their back. “Are you two okay?”

“Okay?” Arthur asks. “Am I? I think I’m seeing things.”

John picks himself off the ground and stares at the guardian with wide eyes. “What was that?” he asks, pointing at the sky that had just been shining with light. “What the hell did you do?”

They flash him a kind smile. “I helped shield you from their bullets,” they say. “It’s my duty, as a guardian, to protect travelers.”

John shakes his head and stabs a finger at the guardian. “No, no, no. Don’t act all oblivious and humble on me. I’m talking about that thing you did with the air. With your shield and your hand.”

“Oh, that,” the guardian chuckles softly. “All guardians know a bit of old magic. It’s in our blood.”

“Magic, huh?” Arthur asks. “I’ve never seen anything like it. How did you do it?”

“It’s hard to explain,” the guardian says with a smile.

Hosea nods. “Magic does come with being a guardian,” he says. “It’s how it’s always been and how it always will be.”

Agreeing, the stranger nods. “That it does.”

“Might we know your name, guardian?” Hosea asks. “Perhaps we can repay you with a warm meal? Perhaps a safe place to rest before you continue on your way?” he suggests as Arthur goes to collect the horses.

The guardian bows their head. “My name is Hayden Bray, and I think I will take you up on your offer. It would be rude to turn away such kindness.”

Hosea looks pleased that Hayden accepted the offer and introduces himself and his company. “My name is Hosea, and this is John,” he says, gesturing to the man beside him. “The feller chasing down the horses is Arthur.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

#my writing #InquisitorCastellanos writing #my ocs #my oc #hayden bray #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #rdr2 #red dead oc #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #john marston #i'm gonna start sharing some of my ocs like this #just little drabbles and so on #because i have so much

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nympsycho-ao3 · 5 years

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Three-Player Game

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You pay a visit to Kakyoin's home to spend some time together before you part to attend university.

You find, though, that there's going to be much more to your time together than just playing video games.

[In which you're double teamed by Jotaro and Kakyoin, joined by Star Platinum and Hierophant Green. They make the most of breaking your innocence one thrust at a time, teasing you further into a side of yourself that you didn't know you had.]

A commission piece.

Hollow ticking noises break up the chipper tune of a midi video game soundtrack. Tense silence between the two players hangs heavy in the air as they tick-tick-tick away at the controllers, leaning into the twists and turns of their respective cars.

After excitable silence lasts far too long between them, energy bursts between them as one prevails as the victor of the race.

“Fuck off,” Jotaro gripes, tossing the controller onto the floor in front of him. He’s such a sore loser.

Kakyoin merely gloats a laugh, the victory screen bright and celebratory. Jotaro isn’t sure which sight he hates more.

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

Jotaro looks towards Kakyoin in confusion; at least, as expressive as Jotaro’s face gets. Kakyoin rises from his cross-legged position on the floor.

“Oh yeah. I invited someone over,” Kakyoin explains, striding towards the door confidently.

At Jotaro’s irritated glare, Kakyoin reassures him. “You’ll like ‘em, I promise.”

It’s a tall order to expect Jotaro to like anyone.

The door opens to reveal the opposite of what Jotaro expects. A comely girl steps through the frame, offering Kakyoin a short hug and cordial greeting. Kakyoin’s eyes catch on the sight of the bare skin on your thigh, your shorts and thigh-high socks making way for plush, inviting softness. You’re too righteous to notice. He offers you a drink or a snack, but you’re too polite to accept.

“Jotaro,” Kakyoin calls out to him still seated in front of the television. “This is (Y/N). She’s a friend of mine from school.”

Jotaro doesn’t offer a greeting, merely tolerating your presence with a stoic glare. You worry that you’ve done something wrong, shifting your weight with the awkwardness. You’ve seen him in school plenty of times, smoking cigarettes and sleeping in class. Not once had he ever looked your way. Rather, he didn’t seem to look anyone’s way.

“Um… hi, Jotaro,” you greet meekly, intimidated by the scowl on his face. He shrugs his shoulders to obfuscate his face, turning back towards the TV to click to a different menu.

You don’t know that he’s hiding a blush on his cheeks.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he finally utters, the curtness all that you or Kakyoin could probably ask for in the way of politeness.

“Wanna play F-Mega with us?” Kakyoin offers, motioning towards the colorful display on the screen.

“Oh! Um… I really suck at video games,” you insist, a humble giggle marking your words.

“Eh, everyone sucks at first,” Kakyoin reassures, placing his palm on the small of your back. His hand is so large it dwarfs you, spanning most of the breadth of your body.

“Really, I’d just be a burden to play with,” you contend, your hands rising defensively.

“Nonsense. Please? I’ll show you,” he beseeches. You can’t resist the look in his eyes: excitement and urgency.

“Fine,” you relent with a smile. It charms Kakyoin, eager to show you the ropes.

He seats you in his place, handing you the controller. Your hands find the contours of it quite alien and situate them over the buttons incorrectly.

“Here,” Kakyoin shuffles to sit behind you, straddling your body with his legs. “Like this.” He reaches forward to lay his hands over yours, adjusting your fingers in place. You stiffen with the position, the closeness not uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. You’ve had a crush on Kakyoin since freshman year, and he’s never given you any indication of reciprocation. You convince yourself this is innocent, despite Jotaro’s glare from beside you.

“Take Jotaro’s controller. I’ll play you,” he instructs, sending an authoritative glance Jotaro’s way. He curls his lip at the request, but relents, shoving the controller towards you. You accept it hesitantly, avoiding making contact with his hand. You wonder what you did for Jotaro to be so cold towards you.

Kakyoin knows better. The fact that he gave up the controller in the first place means he at least tolerates you.

Kakyoin takes the other controller from your hand and shuffles through different menus with it. You keep your fingers in place, awaiting Kakyoin’s next command.

He shows you through the game from behind you, his instructions marked by the hotness of his breath against your ear. You can’t relax, the hardness of Kakyoin’s chest and his guidance testing your patience. You try your best, but you still suck, though Kakyoin doesn’t say it.

Jotaro does.

“She sucks. Let me play,” he growls. Kakyoin shoots him a glare, but it goes ignored.

“Fine, we’ll set up three-player,” Kakyoin sneers. “Would you mind getting another controller, (Y/N)? There’s another one in my closet. I’ll try to figure out how to get a third player in.”

You nod without thinking, Kakyoin making a request of you humbling. You break from the support of Kakyoin’s chest to rise, though you realize after getting to your feet that you don’t know where Kakyoin’s room is.

Kakyoin’s keen perception comes in handy. “First door on the left, there,” he leads, his hand motioning towards a hallway. You nod again before ushering yourself away, thankful for the coolness of the air to soothe your blushing cheeks.

Being in Kakyoin’s room feels weirdly invasive, like you’re a child that finds themselves somewhere they shouldn’t be. You smile at the neatness of it, put-together and collected like the boy who resides in it. You make your way to the closet, opening it to reveal an organized series of belongings. You look around for the controller, only for your eyes to land on a clear bin on the top shelf of the closet that reveals the familiar shape.

It’s too high to reach, but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jotaro by asking for help. Instead, you balance on your toes, stretching your arms to drag your fingertips across the bottom edge of the container. With each attempt, you bring it closer to the edge, your calves stinging with the exertion.

You manage to get it to the point where it tips, catching it with waiting fingertips.

Your grip isn’t enough.

It comes toppling down, the contents of it tumbling onto you. You let out a shriek, guarding yourself with your hands, but soon you find yourself snared in the entrapment of various wires and cords. You freeze in place, embarrassed, wondering if this is some sort of nightmare.

“(Y/N)!” Kakyoin calls from the doorframe, rushing towards you. He grasps your shoulders, his fingers already working to untangle you. You resign into yourself, too embarrassed to do much else. Kakyoin frees you gradually, one step at a time, his touches lingering on your skin longer after he moves on.

“I’m so sorry! Oh my God, oh… I-it was an accident, ah…” you stutter.

“I’m sorry, I forgot that most people can’t reach that high,” he says frantically.

“It’s alright,” you insist, hoping to usher away his concerns. The way he unwinds you from the cords is captivating, the look in his violet eyes pure protection. When he looks up to untangle a cord from around your neck, he can’t help but let the eye contact last much longer than it needs to.

He doesn’t look away from you as he drops the cord to the ground beside you. You’re too entranced in his eyes to avert your gaze, though every bit of anxiety within you tells you to.

“Thanks,” you utter modestly, unsure what to do as you look up at Kakyoin.

“No problem,” he responds lowly, the closeness between you and him suddenly uncomfortably apparent. Before you can step back, Kakyoin returns his palm to the side of your neck. Kakyoin’s observational skills are your downfall, your adoring gaze bringing a slow grin across his face.

He’s more daring than he’s ever been, leaning down to bring his face close to yours. He assesses your reaction with heavy lids before pressing his lips to yours ever so gently. Though you’re stunned into stillness, your head floods with fluttery panic and enrapturement.

He breaks the kiss after a moment, his expression almost as surprised as yours.

“Sorry,” he utters quietly. “You just looked really cute.”

You scoff an embarrassed exhale into your hands, finally looking away and down at Kakyoin’s chest. You find a brief streak of boldness, gripping Kakyoin’s forearms a lot less forcefully than you think you do. He complies with your gentle coaxing, kissing you again. It’s more fevered this time, your eyes closing with the intensity. You had no idea Kakyoin felt this way at all, as he gave no indication of his affections being anything more than platonic.

With the newfound intensity between you, he swings his leg back to kick the door closed. He captures you in his grasp, the contours of your chest molding into his own. The noise of the door slamming shut is almost unheard, obfuscated by the blood rushing past your ears.

You whine into the kiss as Noriaki gropes the mound of your ass, coercing you towards the bed. You can’t object, nor do you desire to, only a small nagging of anxiety nipping the back of your throat. He situates you onto the edge of the bed, his sheepish and kind nature distant as he gropes and claws at you. He forces himself to separate from your lips to tug your shoes off roughly, tossing them God knows where.

He pushes you further onto the bed, climbing over you as he laps and kisses at the heat on your neck. You squeal under his weight and with the sensation, wholly new to you-- you probably shouldn’t tell Kakyoin that just moments ago he gave you your first kiss. He straddles your thighs, kissing your collarbone and the hollows of it. Your hands grasp desperately at his shirt, grounding yourself.

The influx of alien feelings and sensations that overtake you are overwhelming. There’s an omnipotent aching deep in your pelvis, each kiss and grope bringing it closer to the surface.

Kakyoin thumbs the hem of one of your thigh-highs, playfully tugging it down and following the trail with his tongue. You shiver and whine at the way the air cools the line of spit on your thigh, your hands hovering in the air having lost their source of stability.

“Ah-- Kakyoin,” you gasp, his violet eyes meeting yours though he says nothing. “What about Jotaro?”

“He’ll ditch us for a cigarette eventually,” Kakyoin reassures, winding his way back up to your lips to show his confidence with the statement.

He finds his way between your legs, perched onto his calves. He hunches over you like a predator over its prey, nipping at your neck, learning your ticks. You groan deeply as he grinds his hips into yours, a rolling motion that draws the aching in your gut to your groin.

To steady yourself and bring yourself back down to Earth, you find Kakyoin’s skin under his shirt, hot and soft. He grins into the kisses, bringing himself down onto one elbow to do much of the same. The way he strokes the skin of your belly makes you quiver, something tingling between your legs.

Soon it becomes apparent that there’s no going back. You’re not sure if you want to, but this is all so fast that you can barely wrap your head around the situation. All those years of staring at Kakyoin from across the lunchroom, sketching him in class… and this is what comes of it.

He starts to trail his fingers down to the hem of your shorts, peeking beneath them and assessing your reaction. He’s pleased when you whimper and pant, waiting for what you’re not sure comes next.

Kakyoin’s ministrations are interrupted by a sudden bang and shift in the light of the room. You let out a startled shriek, Kakyoin’s head snapping towards the door with a flick of his hair.

He bucks himself off of you, almost falling to the floor but managing to catch his balance. You scramble to push your shirt down and pull your sock back up onto your thighs.

“What the fuck, Jotaro?” Kakyoin yells, the height in his voice unfamiliar. You realize you’ve never heard the soft-spoken, respectful Kakyoin raise his voice or curse.

“Wondered where you two went,” he grumbles, his arms crossed across his chest. You stare at the imposing figure in the doorway, noting the small glimpse of a barely-there grin. It’s the first time you’ve seen anything but a displeased grimace on his face.

“Ever hear of knocking?” Kakyoin continues, obviously shifting his weight to hide the growing bulge in his pants.

“Why bother? Not like you hide wanting to fuck her very well,” he shrugs, his lighthearted tone almost as unfamiliar as Kakyoin’s angry one.

Both of you stare at him incredulously. You bring the blanket up to cover your chest, finding comfort in whatever decency you can find. You’re hot and overwhelmed, your breathing quick as it heaves your chest.

“Were you planning on being a selfish prick, or were you gonna share?” Jotaro sneers, one eyebrow raising. Your eyes switch between Jotaro and Kakyoin like a slideshow, assessing each one of their reactions.

Wait, what? What did he say?

You finally linger on Kakyoin who seems just as surprised as you are.

Then, a sly grin.

He summons hierophant, though you’re none the wiser; you’ve heard plenty of stories of Kakyoin’s stand, but you’re not able to see it. A part of you wishes you could, but for now, Kakyoin uses that fact to his advantage. He maneuvers a collection of tentacles around you, just out of reach.

“Guess that’s up to her,” Kakyoin shrugs, looking towards you with an amicable gaze.

What? What was he asking you?

You switch to Jotaro, only to see him eyeing you like a piece of meat. In every way that Kakyoin was attractive to you, Jotaro was the opposite; somehow, it works, his imposing and stoic nature making you curious as to what lies under the diamond-hard exterior. The way he looks at you almost scares you, due to the shadow of the brim of his hat casting his salacious gaze darkly. The shadow brings out the emerald of his eyes, something you’ve never noticed before. Probably because he barely looks at you as it is.

“W-What?” you finally ask, stuttering under the weight of Jotaro’s stare.

Jotaro grins at your innocence, the expression foreign to you. “C’mon, if you’re willing to fuck with me around, it’s only polite to include me.”

“When have you ever cared about politeness?” Kakyoin jeers from the other side of the bed. Your wide eyes remain locked on Jotaro.

“Shut up,” he sneers. Kakyoin laughs at the tone, though you’re not sure what’s so funny.

Jotaro finally moves from the door frame, his hulking stature easily closing the door behind him with a twist of his ankle.

You’re stunned into immobility, only blinking as Jotaro takes off his hat. Without it, you can see his entire face at once, and more importantly, the hardness of his features as light is cast on them naturally. It’s an act of kindness, considering Jotaro can’t approach the situation using his words. You can’t help but stare at the curly blackness of his hair, the highlights shining indigo with the light of the sun filtering in through the window.

Your interest is only further captured as he shrugs off his jacket, casting it onto the floor in a slumped heap. You knew Jotaro was huge, but the figure of his muscles widens your eyes. He’s flattered by the expression, resting his hands on his hips to accentuate the pulling of his muscles on his shoulders.

“Hey,” Kakyoin calls, catching your attention from what must have been a stare. His expression is unreadable and unfamiliar to you, but you think it might be jealousy. Kakyoin indignantly unbuttons the clip of his gakuran before yanking it off, tossing it onto the heap that Jotaro’s jacket created. Jotaro scoffs, his eyebrow raising.

You’ve always wondered what Kakyoin wore under his gakuran. A plain white undershirt greets you, exposing the delicate musculature underneath. You’re surprised by the breadth of him, his slim-fitting gakuran doing him no favors.

Jotaro chuckles, raising his eyebrow at Kakyoin. “What, pissed that I’m stealing your girl?”

“You’re not stealing anything,” he asserts in return, pointing his words with a raise of his chin.

“We’ll see about that,” Jotaro jokes.

Seeing Jotaro so lighthearted gives you an enthralling insight into what he must be like under the tough facade. You’re excited to learn more.

“You… you both want…?” you begin to ask, both of their attentions caught by the sound of your voice. You lower the blanket, your hands beginning to feel heavy.

Jotaro huffs. “Do you wanna fuck us or not?”

Kakyoin slaps his shoulder, though the impact makes no difference. “You could be more tactful.”

“Fuck that,” Jotaro dismisses with a wave of his hand. He approaches you on the side of the bed, looking down at you with heavy lids, as he appears to cast aside something from his path. Kakyoin reluctantly retreats Hierophant, clearing the space. The upward curl of Jotaro’s lips is somehow scarier to you than his usual grimace. Jotaro gives you a peek of his midriff from under his shirt, revealing the most statuesque physique you’ve ever seen with your own two eyes. Thick veins bulge at the surface near his groin, a spattering of dark hair illustrating a path downwards from his navel. He’s breathtaking, catching your breath in your throat.

“Like what you see?” he pries, his proximity to you unsettling but also invigorating. He’s never bothered to give you the time of day before. Why now?

You don’t know what else to do other than comply as he takes your hand in his own, bringing it to rest against the muscles of his abdomen. You blush and desperately avert your gaze from his eyes, following the path that he guides your hand along, the hardness and contours of the muscle captivating.

He releases your hand, only for your palm to linger; you don’t know if you’re too stunned to move, or if the thought of taking your hands off of him for even a moment is unfathomable. You brush your fingers across his navel, the smooth warmth of it maintaining your undivided attention.

“Heh,” he breathes, his cocky expression infuriating Kakyoin. “That was easy.”

“Shut up,” Kakyoin gripes, quickly advancing himself towards you. He climbs on the bed, already comfortable due to the familiar surroundings, and situates himself next to you. He almost reminds you of a jealous child, climbing onto the bed and yanking your hand onto his torso.

You dig your fingers into the both of them, the hardness you meet delicious. Kakyoin certainly isn’t as bulky as Jotaro, but he holds himself confidently, especially as he peacocks for you.

Your thoughts are swimming with what feels like a fever. If you had to choose, you couldn’t choose just one, and you know it. Indeed, as they scowl at one another you find yourself lost in a sea of fervor. You organize them just enough to keep yourself oriented.

“C’mon,” Jotaro goads with a sing-song inflection. “You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

God, desperately.

Jotaro leans closer to you, somehow still looking down at you. “Good girls know how to share.”

The rumbling of his voice settles in your groin. You look towards Kakyoin for some sign of approval, finding only a considerate smirk on his face. He rests his hand on your thigh, the contact hitching your breath.

“I’m… I’m not sure,” you hesitate, despite the pulling in your gut. They inch towards you, kindness in one’s glare and licentiousness in the other’s.

“About what?” Jotaro inquires, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before.

The answer should be obvious, you think. He must be mocking you.

“About… all this,” you answer vaguely with a chuckle, Kakyoin’s fingers winding their way higher up on your thigh. A part of you wants to stop him, but it’s easily overshadowed by the excitement that builds within you.

You return your hands to your side, hesitant. Jotaro takes it upon himself to bring his lips close to your ear, the heat making your tense muscles shiver.

“You are sure,” he insists, his hot breath against your ear tensing your thighs under Kakyoin’s hold. “You don’t want to leave us hanging. You want to make us feel good, like a good girl, right?”

You clench your eyes shut at this words, whining softly. He’s so close to you; you can smell his cologne, and it’s intoxicating. You didn’t think someone like Jotaro would wear cologne.

You manage a nod. It’s true, it’s what some part of you wants, though you��re not sure which part. Primarily, you’re concerned that you simply can’t handle this. You were barely able to keep yourself with Kakyoin alone, how are you supposed to keep yourself composed?

“I-- I won’t… you’re overestimating me, here,” you claim, hoping that the heat that comes from Jotaro’s torso won’t boil your blood.

“No, I’m not,” Jotaro consoles, the swing of his voice quite convincing. You almost believe him. “You’re a dirty girl. You can handle it.”

Kakyoin seems irked at his words, but says nothing. You’re not a dirty girl to him, but he lets Jotaro take the reigns, what he believes to be just this once.

Your thighs jerk upwards as Jotaro palms the heat between your legs. Kakyoin scolds his forwardness, but you can’t pay attention, the pressure desperately needed. Jotaro hums when you roll your hips into it, keeping a harder push just out of your reach. You take in an exasperated gasp, needy and insistent.

“You want more?” he croons, obviously amused with your reaction to his teasing.

“I do,” you finally admit, the words tumbling from your lips without care. You almost regret divulging your desires, but the sudden pressing of Jotaro’s fingers onto your pussy casts that thought away from your mind.

You’re startled by the feeling of what must be ropes of some sort taking your arms and legs into their grasp. Panic is quickly settled with Kakyoin’s reassurance.

“That’s Hierophant, my stand,” he explains, the tendrils winding their way to your abdomen, encircling you. Jotaro sends a cocky glance towards Kakyoin, and he ignores it out of stubbornness. He’s evidently proud he pulled this off.

You keep your nerves together as Hierophant lifts you from the mattress into the air, supporting your weight with ease. The boys rise from the bed as you drift towards the foot of it with the aid of Hierophant, invisible but present in touch.

Jotaro picks up on your discomfort and moves to stand behind you, pressing his chest into your back in support. Having something tangible and visible to support you calms you as much as you can be in this moment. Your knees are bent, positioning you in a pose a bit too lascivious for comfort. Your mind is elsewhere, though, watching Kakyoin approach you slowly.

Jotaro’s arms hook under yours to wrap around your chest. “Your socks are really cute, (Y/N). You should keep them on.”

“W--wha…” you manage to squeak before you watch your shorts get torn in two, an invisible force ripping them from your body with ease. You yelp at the sound of tearing fabric and the burning against your hips as the fabric falls to the floor. Your movements are inhibited by Hierophant surrounding you and the sturdiness of Jotaro’s back.

“My stand,” Jotaro explains. You trust him enough to use whatever incredible power this is for good, though you have no reason to place that trust in him. Too late to consider it now, though.

Invisible hands slide broad fingers up your thighs, plucking the lip of your panties at your hip. You move your thighs to squirm with the extrinsic sensation; it seems you haven’t learned your lesson yet.

You feel terribly exposed, especially as Kakyoin perches himself between your legs. You blush at the sight, though you’re helpless to cover yourself. It would be a shame if you did, anyway.

Noriaki watches your expression as he drags an authoritative finger along your covered slit, grinning at the wetness that seeps through the fabric. He presses on your clit with a teasing prod, the new sensation forcing your eyes closed. His lips find the inside of your thigh, dragging sweet kisses along the muscle of it.

One of Hierophant’s tendrils wraps around the fabric that covers your pussy, pulling it out of the way. You whine at the way that Kakyoin stares, seemingly entranced by the sight despite your embarrassment. You open your mouth to beg him not to, but your head is ushered back by a quick tug of your hair. You whelp, only for the sound of it to be muffled by Jotaro’s lips. Kissing him is a strange feeling, especially the way he commands you with his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes.

Your groan resounds in the hollow of Jotaro’s mouth as Kakyoin touches you raw, no barrier between you and his digit. Your toes curl, the only movement you’re able to muster against Hierophant’s strong grip. He pulls back, a line of wetness connecting the pad of his finger to you for a moment before he swipes it into his palm.

“Did you want this that bad?” he banters, knowing you’re unable to answer as your mouth is currently preoccupied. He doesn’t need one, having all the evidence he needs right in front of him. Jotaro slides his tongue between your lips, the invasion making you wince. You relax soon, though, letting the weight of your head fall back onto Jotaro’s fist in your hair.

Hierophant rips your panties off of your hips with a single tug, your tongue hardening against Jotaro’s at the sting against your skin. Kakyoin glides his fingers against the wetness, exploring the intricacies of it, before settling on your clit and circling it curiously. Jotaro drinks in the moans that you can’t suppress in your throat, his fingers tightening on your hair.

Jotaro releases the kiss suddenly, leaving your lips coated in a mixture of your salivas. You meet Jotaro’s piercing gaze for just a moment before your head is manhandled, forcing you to look upon Kakyoin between your legs.

You want to tell Kakyoin to slow down, to give you a second to absorb all of this, especially as you feel dizzy with the lingering taste of Jotaro on your lips. You can’t, something within you prevents it-- a side of you you never even knew was there.

Kakyoin watches your face as he slides a finger inside you, the bucking of your hips beguiling to greedy eyes. He meets almost no resistance except for the tightness inside, your wetness providing plenty of buffer to the friction.

You feel an invisible pair of hands encapsulating your rib cage, large and imposing. They slide to your abdomen, pecking at the hem of your shirt. Watching the fabric twist with an invisible force is equally terrifying and intriguing as it exposes your midriff. Jotaro’s hands meet the demands of Star Platinum’s, ripping your shirt in two with ease. You writhe into the pulsing of Kakyoin’s finger as it glides in and out, gyrating with Jotaro’s groping of your chest.

He snaps the elastic band of your sports-bra against your skin, a joke in a time when humor is sorely unnecessary.

“Heh,” he chuckles from behind. “So modest. Who are you trying to fool?”

You can’t respond, his hands making quick work of the fabric and casting it aside just as easily as the rest. A chill runs through you, your body completely exposed, though your blood burns red-hot.

Jotaro cups one of your breasts a tad too roughly, a dull sting making you thrash against your restraints. You protest briefly as what feels like an invisible mouth takes your other nipple into it, a strange presence of what must be a tongue flicking the already hard nub between its teeth.

“Oh-- my God,” you cry out, your head falling back onto the security of Jotaro’s chest. Kakyoin’s finger rubs against somewhere deep inside you that spurs a shock through your sex and into your abdomen. He takes your heightened moaning as an invitation, inserting a second finger as gingerly as he did the first. He finds a gentle rhythm, stroking the point he’s found that makes you breathe out delectably. You’re thankful for the kindness as Jotaro twists and pulls on the sensitivity of your breast, the other manipulated by a mysterious force.

“Kak, stop teasing the girl,” Jotaro chastises, the growling of his voice booming in your ear.

Kakyoin gives him an irritated glare, obviously plenty pleased with the reactions he coaxes from you. Jotaro scoffs, releasing your chest, the apparent mouth dissipating curiously. You expect to feel the chill of exposed saliva, only for there to be an unusual dryness.

Another presence replaces Jotaro, larger and broader than even Jotaro’s stunning musculature. Jotaro practically shoves Kakyoin out of the way, grasping your hips to coax you closer to his face, the tendrils apparently cooperative. You gush at the sight of Jotaro eyeing you, wanting to cover your face or at least close your thighs; you can’t, though, leaving you to grit your teeth with parted lips.

Jotaro picks up where Kakyoin left off, just much less considerate. You reel with the sudden penetration of two fingers, groaning gutterally as he glides his knuckles flush with you. Kakyoin watches as Jotaro slows his pumping to accommodate his mouth around the base of your entrance. He slides upwards quickly, not one to waste time, and rolls his tongue around your clit. It isn’t long before he takes it into his mouth, his lips warm and wet exactly where you need it. He kisses you, languidly gyrating his tongue along the underside of your clit until he flicks it upwards and uncovers the bud from its hood. Your feet hurt from how hard to clench your toes, searching for any semblance of control that they’ve taken from you.

“J--Jotaro--” you seethe, the tone of it foreign on your lips. Jotaro looks up at that, his lips curling upwards as he continues.

Kakyoin seems peeved that you’ve called Jotaro’s name and not his, though you’re too invested in other matters to notice. He makes it known to you by side-stepping out of the boundaries of your legs and rushing to your face. He grasps the softness of your neck, using the jutting of your jaw to turn your face towards his before shutting you up with a swift kiss. You’re surprised at the urgency of it, melting with the combination of Jotaro’s sensations and Kakyoin’s tongue lining your lips.

Though you have no idea how to handle the feelings that bombard you from all angles, you do. And for the first time, you allow yourself to truly enjoy it. Jotaro discovers what you like through trial and error, working through your preferences and paying attention to the moans that Kakyoin swallows.

There’s no way this can go on forever, but you want it to.

Kakyoin doesn’t, though. He breaks the kiss sensitively, pointing it with a peck. You breathe heavily, finally able to take a full lung’s worth of air.

“Hey, Jojo,” he interjects, making eye contact but not stopping the rolling and twisting of his tongue. Kakyoin works to unbuckle his slacks, reaching in between the zipper to release his cock from the constraint. You can only assume what he’s doing, raised too high in the air to see.

Jotaro seems to get the hint, pausing to wipe the slickness from his chin with the back of his hand. The light sucking noise makes you self-conscious, but the implication makes you clench your fist. You feel the tension in your muscles ease with the break, though blood pools in your pussy and makes it feel tight with lust.

You scramble to handle yourself as Hierophant's tentacles flip you, your eyes forced to look at the floor. You realize how high in the air you are, then, and panic a little with the height. If you were to fall, if your trust were to be broken, there’s no doubt you’d at least have some bruises.

Kakyoin is quick to comfort you, rising on his own accord to tenderly run his hand down the length of your back. You turn your neck to see Kakyoin’s smile.

“Good,” he praises. “Just roll with it.”

You blink with the sound of praise for you on Kakyoin’s lips. You never knew just how desperately you needed it.

“Can you do something for me?” Kakyoin asks, stroking the length of your hair.

You hesitate before answering. “I can try, I, um…”

Kakyoin ruffles your hair before soaring higher into position, mounds of Hierophant’s tentacles supporting him as he seats himself in front of you. You’re confronted with the affronting sight of his hard cock as he holds it in front of your face, your eyes widening at the suddenness. You’ve heard about how penises look and feel, but now that a real one takes up the majority of your perspective you’re forced to ask yourself how you’re supposed to fit that anywhere.

Kakyoin holds the base of it and angles it towards your mouth, the spongy head wide and strangely inviting with a pinkish blush.

“I… I don’t know how…” you confess, eyes locked on the member in front of you.

“You’ll learn,” Kakyoin reassures, cupping your cheek with a kind palm. Your nervousness falls wayside to Kakyoin’s benevolence.

You decide you can trust him, and offer your tongue for him to prod his head with. He sighs with the warmth and the plushness of it, pushing himself further into your mouth inch by inch. You keep yourself calm, until a pair of brawny hands grips the flesh of your thighs.

Jotaro can’t help himself, even though you’re too high into the air to get at you himself, resorting to using Star Platinum in his stead. A warm, tingling sensation winds it way through your abdomen with an unhurried lick of your pussy, finally settling on your clit and sucking gently. You feel yourself tighten into it, whelping into the meat of Kakyoin’s cock. He soothes you with a gentle stroke of your cheek with his thumb, dragging across the bulge of his cock underneath.

He hums in approval before sliding out from between your lips, only to delve back in slowly. He pushes your limits, prodding the back of your throat; your throat shuts closed with the intrusion, making you choke. He pulls out and lets you spit out your frustrations, looking down at you with a smug-looking smile.

“Sorry,” he says, though it’s not genuine. “You just look so sweet with my cock in your mouth.”

His vulgarity brings an intense blush to your cheeks, heating already feverish skin. The knot in your gut gradually becomes looser and looser as Kakyoin works at your mouth and Star Platinum hits all the sweet spots that Jotaro has become intimately familiar with. Kakyoin finds a steady rhythm, respecting your limits but tempting the boundaries every so often. You find it easier to relax your throat every time he digs his head into the back of it.

Jotaro takes in the sight, tugging his slacks free from the constraint of his belts. You hear the jingling of metal and the sound of a zipper, but all you can see is the tufts of ginger hair that decorate Kakyoin’s groin. Jotaro strokes himself, enjoying the feeling and taste of your pussy on his lips through the connection with his stand.

Kakyoin grunts a gravelly sigh, his hand drifting from your cheek to the back of your head. He keeps your head still with a fist of hair pulling at your scalp, driving himself into your mouth. You force your tongue to lay flat across your bottom row of teeth, despite your primal instincts telling you to do otherwise. Your trust in Kakyoin is absolute as he chokes off your breathing with his cock, the sensation alarming as you realize you can’t take in air through your nose. He thrusts once… twice… before withdrawing in mercy. You suppress a gag and leave his head perched across your lip, sloppy strands of saliva dripping onto Hierophant’s tendrils beneath you as your heaving breath casts them away.

“Kak,” Jotaro says lowly. “C’mon.”

Kakyoin seems to understand, though you don’t. He reluctantly releases your head and begins to descend towards the ground, but not before placing a delicate kiss on your forehead.

“That’s good. Let’s see the rest, hm?” he whispers into your hairline.

You steady yourself as you’re lowered to the floor, reaching out for something tangible. Jotaro fills the void, holding you against him with an authoritative wrap of his arm across your body. Your eyes catch on the flesh that peeks from the frame of Jotaro’s zipper, your eyes widening at the size of it. You hope he doesn’t try to fit that down your throat, seeing as you could barely handle Kakyoin’s and Jotaro’s is even bulkier and longer.

Jotaro has other plans. He guides you to the edge of the bed where he sits, bringing you into his lap. Your legs feel weak, your thighs straddling him as you rely on him to support your weight. He takes advantage of your obedience, gripping the hollow of where your thighs meet your hips. He lowers your pussy against the length of his shaft, enjoying the compliance that you’re helpless to alter. He clenches his jaw as he pushes and pulls your hips into a rolling rhythm, slicking his cock with your wetness. You’re rendered thoughtless, only able to express yourself in airy moans as you support yourself by wrapping your arms around Jotaro’s neck.

An invisible finger startles you, nudging against your clit with a daring circling motion. Jotaro grins as you cry out, digging his fingers into your flesh relentlessly.

Jotaro isn’t one to waste time nor mince words, using Star Platinum to lift you up. You were concerned about fitting him in your mouth, but as he presses the broadness of his head against your entrance, you’re affronted by the possibility that he simply can’t fit. You utter hesitancy into the crook of his neck, but it goes unheeded. He pierces you unsympathetically, driving himself into the warmth and wetness with a hiss escaping between his lips. You dig your fingers into the muscles of Jotaro’s back, fingernails scratching in an act of desperation, his fullness filling you indecently.

“Shh…” Jotaro hushes you into your ear, his hand cupping your ass as he finally stills. “You’re doing just fine.”

His growling voice is hot against your ear, easing you into the wholeness that presses the limits of your body. The aching and stinging make way for the beginnings of pleasure. In an unusual act of lenity, he dots your neck with small pecks, tickling you and almost distracting you from the stretching of your insides.

The kindness doesn’t last long, as he guides you up and over the barrier of disinclination, driving into you as you cry out. He silences you with two of Star Platinum’s fingers thrust between your lips, peeling into your tongue and pressing you into wordless groans. You suck on them to prevent drool from pooling under your tongue, closing your lips around the bulk of them.

As you desperately struggle against your inner motivations, Hierophant winds a consoling tendril around you, starting at your wrist and settling around your neck. It holds you in place as Jotaro has his way, each thrust marked by a breathy grunt resounding in your ear. As it presses into your neck ever so gently, you realize Kakyoin is reminding you that he’s there, as if you could ever forget. As if he’s worried he’s been cast aside, Hierophant winds its way around the roundness of your breast and flicks a textured bud around your clit. Your eyes clench shut with the stimulation, your thighs quivering and weak, supported by the strength of Jotaro’s insistence.

You wish he would slow down or at least show some consideration for your cervix, but you’re rendered helpless with Star Platinum’s fingers choking off whatever words you could hope to muster and Hierophant restraining your body. There’s something to be said for giving yourself completely to them, though, as you allow yourself to fall victim to the twinge of pleasure that aches in your gut. Jotaro grins as he senses your divulgence, your inability to hide just how much you’re loving this endearing to him. You focus on the hollow slapping noises that reverberate against the walls of the room, almost echoing in your florid ears.

“What were you saying about sharing, Jojo?” Kakyoin jeers from behind you.

Jotaro scoffs, the sound of it distinct from his other grunts and groans. He relents, giving a few final thrusts before sliding out of you unceremoniously. You squeal with the sudden emptiness, your pussy overweening from the friction. His sticky cock bounces against his abdomen, marking his navel with your slickness.

Kakyoin would like to give you a moment of respite, but he’s too drunk with the sight of your pussy, eager and waiting. He angles his cock to jut into your entrance, giving you only a moment to prepare before sliding in. He pulls out only after driving himself flush with you, his balls even with your body. You bite the fingers in your mouth as you adapt to the length, Kakyoin’s movements much kinder than Jotaro’s. You close your eyes as he grasps your hips, your lips not doing much to contain the spit that peers from the corner of your mouth.

Though Kakyoin may be slower, he’s more thorough, driving into you with the entirety of his length before thrusting into you again and again. Your hands find Jotaro’s chest, gripping the hardness of it until he chuckles with the pressure and the look on your face. Hierophant relents, sensing the soreness that its tendrils leave lingering under your skin. You relinquish yourself into Jotaro’s chest, his arms coming to embrace you and hold you still, giving Kakyoin leverage. The change of angle hits new tender spots inside of you that make you kick your feet into the mattress in gratification.

“I think she’s enjoying herself,” Jotaro muses, broad fingers combing your hair out of his face as you nuzzle into his neck. The humor doesn’t go unnoticed.

Kakyoin only chuckles as he continues, unrelenting. You slide your hands onto the sheets, gripping them into a mass in your fist. Jotaro hums, stroking your sides and feeling the hollow of your spine, stabilizing you against the repeated jerking of your body with Kakyoin’s pounding. The wet slapping of his thighs against yours rings in your ears, the stimulation deep inside you driving you crazy. You never thought sex would feel this good.

“This isn’t exactly fair,” Jotaro gripes, his bitching making Kakyoin roll his eyes.

He’s not wrong, though.

Kakyoin takes his time sliding out; you’re grateful for the gentleness considering you need to prepare for the absence. Your chest is pried from Jotaro’s, Hierophant raising your torso once again to align you with Jotaro. Jotaro must’ve taken the hint from your pleasurable moans as Kakyoin fucked you, penetrating you slowly and giving you ample time to adjust to his girth.

A wet stickiness drips from above onto your asshole, earning a high-pitched squeal from the back of your throat. It’s not spit; it’s too cold. Instead, Hierophant leaks gobs of green from one of its tentacles. You shudder with the feeling, the coldness dripping onto Jotaro’s cock as he pushes it inside you. It’s incredibly slick, almost like silicone.

You don’t expect the tingling sensation the stickiness brings with it, hectic static winding its way through your insides. It only intensifies the satisfaction of Jotaro drilling into you.

“Stay relaxed, kitten,” Kakyoin murmurs behind you, his instructions causing you more alarm than salvation. Relax? As if you even could, sweat dotting your hairline and pooling in the hollow between your belly and Jotaro’s.

He presses his thumb into the first ring of muscle, slicked by Hierophant’s lubrication. You yelp with the insertion, clamping down involuntarily on both foreign bodies that invade your body.

“Hey, hey,” Jotaro soothes from under you. “Be good and relax.”

You mewl in response, clawing at the muscle of Jotaro’s shoulder. He slows his fucking leniently, permitting you to take in what Kakyoin gives you. He drives his thumb in deeper, his other hand shifting the plumpness of your ass to get a better view. Your hand finds Jotaro’s head, gripping his hair in a loose fist. He grins at that, letting you pull on it as hard as you need.

Kakyoin relaxes you enough to slide out his thumb and replace it with his index and middle fingers. You clench your jaw in response, but suddenly your attention is diverted as Jotaro ruts into you, the pleasure distracting you from the alien feeling of fingers in your ass.

He starts pumping his fingers into you with an easy rhythm, almost matching that of Jotaro. You open your eyes just long enough to see Jotaro grinning proudly, your eyes locked on the sight of your fist entwined with the black curls of his air.

“I think she’s ready,” Jotaro’s brow raises as he sees your irises peek from behind your eyelids. Your eyes widen at the assertion, though you can say nothing as Kakyoin snickers and Jotaro flashes his teeth in a predatory grin.

“H-hey!” you cry out as you feel Kakyoin’s cock press against your hole, trying to crane your neck to meet his gaze, but Jotaro’s strong hand grabs your jaw to keep your face focused on his.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Kakyoin reassures. “I know you can take it.”

Can you? You hesitate to feel so confident, already exhausted by their treatment of you. You’re not sure how much more you can handle, but the decision is already made for you as Kakyoin inches inside with a breath escaping between his teeth.

You force yourself to relax, pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Jotaro notices the lustful grin that crosses your lips and drags his fingers across it. You look down at him, embarrassed that he caught you so uninhibited.

Kakyoin grabs your hips as he and Hierophant’s tendrils start to rock you into a rhythm. Jotaro watches your face carefully, relishing in the expression as you adjust away from the tension and start to lose yourself to the pleasure that assaults you from all angles.

Jotaro drops his hands to rest them on your thighs, curling under the hem of your thigh highs. The pressure on your jaw is replaced by an intangible force, craning your head upwards and away from Jotaro. Something slaps against your lips, the sensation familiar though you disbelieve what you’re feeling.

“Go on,” Jotaro asserts. “You know the drill.”

So it is what you feared it was. It’s strange feeling the head of a cock usher itself between your lips when you can’t see it, but you trust Jotaro just enough to maintain what’s left of your composure. You open your mouth to welcome the assertive tip between your lips, but you’re menaced by the sheer size of it. This must be Star Platinum, you think, the size understandable after becoming increasingly familiar with the broadness of his chest and hands. Your jaw stretches to accommodate, your tongue forced into the back of your mouth. The stand doesn’t seem to mind the grating of your teeth, considering it’s impossible to fit him in without at least some contact.

Jotaro sees you through Star Platinum’s eyes, chuckling at the sight of your clenched eyes dotted by tears at the corners. The stand cups the back of your head and pushes you as far down on the girth as you can go, your throat vibrating with the desperate cry as spit leaks onto Jotaro’s chest below. You feel like an object, being used by two men you never thought would even give you the time of day, and some intangible beings that they promise you are there. You’re in no place to deny their existence, considering one of their cocks is in your mouth and the other suspends you between what must be the most vigorous fucking you can handle.

At least, that’s what you think.

“You like being filled by us?” Jotaro asks over Kakyoin’s huffing and groaning.

You give a useless groan from your belly, your mouth currently stuffed by an inhumanly large cock, pressing your limits and not heeding to them. Jotaro moans, the feeling of the vibrations of your whining reverberating through his own cock. He squeezes your thighs to ground you as Star Platinum withdraws, much to your delight as you can finally catch a breath. A part of you misses it though, licking your lips to collect the saliva that slicks across your lips.

Jotaro and Kakyoin muddle among themselves about something you can’t discern as Hierophant lowers you back onto Jotaro’s chest. The sweat and spit that lingers there slathers onto your chest, heating and thickening it.

You melt into him, your lips dragging across his collar bone. He wraps his arms around you again, holding you close. They slow their pace gradually; you’re not sure if you’re more grateful for the break or ready to take the reigns yourself and set the pace.

“I know you want more,” Jotaro drawls close to your ear. “So take it, alright?”

Take what? What more is there to take? You’re already stuffed to the brim, what else could they possibly want from you?

Your musing is interrupted by a dull thickness prodding at the entrance of your pussy against Jotaro’s cock, slicked by your spit and Hierophant’s lube. You crane your neck to make desperate eye contact with Jotaro, begging an answer and a solution from him. He merely tuts, his hands rubbing your sides in a pushy embrace.

You gather the muscle of Jotaro’s shoulder between your teeth and suck, crying out with the feeling of Star Platinum’s cock run flush with Jotaro’s as it pries its way into your pussy. It burns, oh God… it burns and stretches you beyond any reasonable expectation. Only because of Hierophant’s lubrication is this even a possibility.

Jotaro yanks your lips off of his shoulder with a taut pull of your hair, instead taking them against his own. You rely on him to support you and kiss you, muting your choked groans with his lips and tongue.

Somehow, Star Platinum fits, much to the amusement of Kakyoin who has a front-row view. The way you stretch and writhe intensely erotic. As Star Platinum grinds a pulse into you, you roll your eyes and astonish yourself with how good it feels to have your limits not just tested, but blown past without any regard. You break the kiss with Jotaro to nuzzle into his neck, your hot breath flowing across his skin with each huff of your moans.

“F--fuck,” you utter, the bulkiness of Star Platinum’s cock rutting against your cervix.

“I didn’t think you knew such a dirty word,” Jotaro hums with a lilt. He’s mocking you, you know it, but you’re not in any position to do anything about it.

“What other dirty words do you know?” Kakyoin chimes, beginning to pick up his pace again considering you seem to be dealing with Star Platinum quite well.

You hide your face in the comfort of Jotaro’s shoulder. They laugh smugly, the noise bringing you back to reality aside from the pumping of three cocks.

“Let’s find out,” Kakyoin continues when you don’t answer, introducing the tip of Hierophant’s cock alongside his own. You groan and curl your toes in anticipation.

“You want it?” Kakyoin teases, his tone lower and more insidious than you’ve heard before. You whine, not daring to look away from the safety of Jotaro’s neck.

Jotaro sneers, gripping the back of your neck and slicking the sweat there. “It’s not polite to leave questions unanswered.”

The truth behind your desires is too affronting with your personal values. You can’t muster the gusto to say anything, and instead nod fervently against Jotaro.

Kakyoin snickers, goading you with a thrust that you desperately wanted. “What do you want?”

You let out an indignant whine in response. Jotaro pats your sides, insistent, as he and Star Platinum slow their pace. You grind your hips back, but Jotaro holds you firm.

“Didn’t quite hear that.”

Your whining becomes irate, raising your chest off of Jotaro’s to look down at him irefully. His expression frustrates you, the sweat on his forehead accentuating the raise of his brows.

“You look cute when you’re pissed off,” Jotaro derides. Kakyoin wants to see for himself, his hand cupping your jaw to turn your face towards him. You grit your teeth at him, though your eyes cry out for anything at all that he’ll give you.

“You’re right,” Kakyoin grins, the look of it only making you more frustrated.

“Please, stop…” you manage to utter with Kakyoin’s firm grasp on your jaw, pinching your cheeks inwards.

“Stop what?” he tilts his head.

You grumble something under your breath.

“Hm?”

“Please, stop… teasing me,” you spit, breathing with the relief of getting the desire off of your shoulders. You’re infuriated further as they chuckle, Kakyoin’s laugh much more enthusiastic than Jotaro’s.

“All you have to do is say it,” Kakyoin insists. “Tell me what you want.”

You force the lump in your throat to lessen, making way for coherence. “Hierophant… please…”

Kakyoin thrums in approval as he releases your jaw, allowing you to return your gaze to Jotaro’s icy coolness.

“What about Hierophant?” Kakyoin ribs.

You almost scream, pursing your lips to suppress the urge. It wasn’t enough for them? What would be?

“Please… just put it in,” you finally manage to seethe.

Kakyoin grins at the way he can twist you from your innocence, no matter how desperately you clung to it. He awards you with a shallow prodding of Hierophant’s tip, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. You think for a moment that he’ll plunge deeper, but when he holds back, you whine in encouragement.

Your breath catches in your throat as Kakyoin wraps his fingers around your neck, long and stately. He careens your back into an arch, grinding their members against you with a new angle.

“Kak… Kakyoin…” you snivel, your voice groveling as his fingers presses into the softness of your carotid.

“Tell me how bad you want it, you fucking slut,” his abrasiveness startles you, though Jotaro seems amused as his chest bobs with a chuckle.

“I-- I need it! Please-- Ah… Just fuck me!” you bawl, your fist pounding into the meat of Jotaro’s chest. He responds by grabbing your fist with burning fingers and yanking your weight out from under you, Kakyoin releasing your neck as Jotaro pulls you flush with his chest. You don’t have time to relax, Kakyoin making quick work of you with a slap of your ass.

You bite down on the thickness of Jotaro’s chest that you find between your teeth as Hierophant cruelly plunges into you with no hesitation. You’re stretched and gouged, the boundaries of your body tested in the most delicious way. Jotaro picks up where he left off, grinding his cock into your waiting heat. He says something to Kakyoin, but you’re too overcome by your body finally being used as it was always meant to be.

More of Hierophant’s slurry leaks onto your holes and makes a mess of the sheets. You utter jibberish into Jotaro’s chest, the only discernible syllables the desperate calling of both of their names. Jotaro holds your lower back in place, applying pressure onto your mound to grind your clit against the coarse skin of his groin. You dig your fingers into Jotaro’s hair, his forbearing nonchalance infuriating despite alluring you to test it and bring some reaction from him.

You can feel your gut twisting as they pound into you with a chugging rhythm. Kakyoin’s fingers dig into your hips, recoiling you into their thrusts to push their cocks even deeper in. You can feel drool escape the corner of your mouth as it slacks agape, but you don’t care to maintain any shred of dignity you have left. Jotaro grasps the nape of your neck forcefully, prying your face from his chest and sealing his lips on your own once more. You never took Jotaro for a kisser, but you’re glad he is; his lips are softer than they look, and you’re beginning to get addicted to the smokey taste of his mouth.

He smiles into the kiss as you whimper and cry, the stimulation overbearing and all-consuming. You grasp at anything your hands can reach, though it does little to settle your nerves. The tingling sensation that Hierophant provides drives you close to insanity as they have their way with you, your whimpers gradually shifting to heated moans. Jotaro releases your lips to let the sound of them reverberate, much to Kakyoin’s delight.

He rewards your obscenity with an increase in pace, Jotaro following suit. You feel something bubbling inside your pelvis against your will, the tension of it pitching your voice. You claw your fingers into the flesh of Jotaro’s shoulders, your breasts bouncing with each deep thrust that they drive into you. Each time one of their heads bumps into a new ridge inside you, you struggle to contain the bursting of an aching throbbing in your gut.

You don’t believe it, and you’re not entirely sure that what you’re feeling is what you’re supposed to feel, but your head hangs loosely on your craned neck as the aching in your gut flickers into a flame. You choke back a startled whine, your face heating and your legs feeling weak. Jotaro grasps your forearms to steady your weight. Your eyes are closed, but you can practically see Jotaro’s smug expression as he grunts in approval. Kakyoin ruts into your heaving form, stray strands of red hair appearing maroon as his sweat slicks it against his forehead. They push and push against the increasing tightness inside you, almost slipping out of you with the resistance. You can finally release a disgruntled, shivering sigh as you feel your insides relax despite the incessant pounding.

“She just came, didn’t she? I felt it,” Jotaro chides, his voice wispy with the marks of exhaustion. The sound of it renews you, your head spinning.

“I think so. Did you cum, (Y/N)?” Kakyoin asks, almost too out of breath to do so.

You groan in agreement, finally collapsing onto Jotaro’s chest with exhausted muscles singeing deeply against your bones.

“Man, you’re a freak, huh? Always the innocent, cute ones…” Jotaro slurs, sliding his fingers into your mouth. He scissors them on your tongue, filling the last hole you have.

You suppose that if you’re loving this so much, you must be. You feel like you were made for this, your insides contouring to their demands. Kakyoin is too curious to let that comment go.

“You’re a freak, (Y/N)?” Kakyoin pries, his cock buried inside you with a particularly thorough thrust.

You find it within yourself to form words, despite the mumbling caused by Jotaro’s fingers. “N… no…”

“You sure?” Kakyoin asks as he slaps the heel of his hand against your ass. You yelp with the pain, only for one of Hierophant’s tentacles to slither up to the point of impact and rub it soothingly. Even when he tries to be someone he isn’t, his true nature shines through. Perhaps he’s trying to mimic Jotaro and his stoic dominance, feeling inferior. Either way, you reach up to stroke the tendril in an act of gratitude with trembling fingers.

“C’mon, say it,” Jotaro goads, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and slathering the spit on your cheek. The coolness it brings you is unexpectedly appreciated. “Say you’re a freak.”

Jotaro pinches your cheeks with his hand as you lose yourself again, overcome by a second wave of pressure that clamps your insides. You groan, the sound distorted by Jotaro’s mangling of the plushness of your cheeks. It’s music to their ears. As you relax once more, you’re confronted by the unceasing rhythm that tempts you back towards release. Orgasming like this, one after another, tempts the brink of your sanity and your internal locus of control.

“Fucking say it,” Jotaro commands, his tone more dogged as he fights the gasp in his breath.

“I--I’m…” you start but can’t finish, Jotaro’s fingers curling against the bottom row of your teeth in your silence. He jostles your jaw before releasing, spit dribbling down your chin.

“Try again.”

“I’m… a freak,” you finally manage, the sound of the words in your voice foreign and oversexed. You’re glad you managed it though, rewarded by pats on the small of your back by Kakyoin and a throaty groan from Jotaro.

“Yeah, you fucking are…” Kakyoin groans. His thumbs dig into your flesh, his thighs burning with lactic acid.

Jotaro huffs, his chest heaving. Sweat dots the hollows of his muscles, darkening the light purple fabric of his tank top in spots. His pace quickens, and with it Star Platinum’s, and you grin at the sensation of his balls slapping into you. They’re both so deep, grinding against your human limits perpetually.

“Shit…” Jotaro gasps. “I’m gonna cum…”

Jotaro abruptly brings your chest to his with a slap, his arms wrapping around you almost too tightly. He jerks into you with no restraint or consideration, his hot bursts of breath sending stray strands of your hair away from his lips. You feel more like a toy than anything else as he uses you to his full necessity. Your breath is almost knocked out of you; you’re not sure if it’s because of Jotaro’s incredible grasp on your rib cage, or the thought of Jotaro cumming inside you.

His teeth dig into the muscle of your neck, earning a squeal from your diaphragm. As he clamps down, you feel it-- oh God, do you feel it.

Jotaro cums first, ropes of it spurting inside your well-used pussy. You revel in the warmth and profanity of the sensation as he juts his hips against you with erratic pulses. You’re not prepared, however, for the onslaught that is Star Platinum’s orgasm. In every way that Hierophant sent static through your veins, Star Platinum’s cum feels like black matter and stardust. It spills out of you despite the filling of your pussy, the sheer volume of it simply too much to contain. Jotaro reels with the sensation of what’s essentially two orgasms at once, milking his and his stand’s cocks as best as he can against the walls of your pussy. Jotaro finally releases his embrace and the hold of your flesh between his teeth, the entirety of his weight falling onto the mattress. You look down at his parted lips and lazy closed eyes, the mixture of their cum spilling over his balls and onto the blanket below.

Kakyoin rolls his lips between his teeth, sinking himself and Hierophant as deep into your ass as he can manage. He focuses the tightness of the ring of muscle at the base of his cock, pushing himself through it with the rolling of his hips. You wish you could see his expression, but his noises are just as sweet; they’re breathy and… pretty. It’s the only word you can think of to describe the utterances that leave his lips, broken up by heaving exhales.

The sensation of cum in your ass is less prominent, but still fills you with a sense of warmth and wholeness. Kakyoin’s cum combines with Hierophant’s, the feeling of it electrifying you from deep inside. You writhe and twist as your guts tingle, the mixture contained only by the expanse of space available with the usage of your hole.

Kakyoin’s orgasm is more finite than Jotaro’s, ceasing his thrusting after only a few jerks. He’s exhausted and overworked as he allows himself to collapse onto your back, his cheek pressed into the space between your shoulder blades. The new angle forces his still-hard cock out of your ass, spilling voluminous gobs of cum out to drip down onto Jotaro’s cock and pooling on his balls. Hierophant dissipates as opposed to withdrawing, your abused hole shrinking in relief.

The three of you stay like this for a moment, catching your breaths and sweltering in the heat between you. Your muscles twitch involuntarily, sending additional straggling strings of cum onto the blanket.

You find yourself being raised again, up and off of Jotaro and Star Platinum’s softening cocks. You’re accustomed to the way Hierophant twists around you and supports your weight excellently, gently craning your neck to allow Kakyoin to place beneficent pecks there. Jotaro offers his gratitude in his own way, his hands barely raising to stroke the delicate skin of the inside of your forearm. You’re sandwiched between their chests, then, as they heave and drip with the scent of sex.

“Kak,” Jotaro can barely manage to utter. He doesn’t need to continue, Kakyoin getting the hint.

Jotaro can finally fill his lungs fully with air as Kakyoin’s weight releases from his chest. He flops onto the bed next to you, the mattress shaking with the shifting of his body. Hierophant suspends you quickly after, bringing your spent body close to his. You giggle with the tenderness of Hierophant’s tendrils, beginning to genuinely enjoy the way it wraps around you and moves you with its will.

Your arm crosses Kakyoin’s chest as you nuzzle your head into the softness of the inside of his shoulder. None of you pay the mess you’ve made any mind, finding solace in the quietness that only gasping breaths can bring. Kakyoin’s hand molds to the contour of your side, holding you close to him.

Jotaro is less inclined towards such affection, instead jutting his shoulder against your upper back. He wants a cigarette or a beer more than anything at the moment, brushing sweat-slicked curls of hair from his forehead.

You finally have a chance to consider the ridiculousness of the situation you find yourself in, as well as the soreness that’s dulled by Hierophant and Star Platinum’s pleasantly magnetized fluids. A chance to breathe and think, something you’d taken for granted before this, brings you back to yourself. Jotaro and Kakyoin must agree, considering the silence between the three of you as you steady your breaths and allow your blood to cool.

Star Platinum’s careful fingers clear your face from scraggly hair. You smile; if Jotaro was too proud to show you affection himself, Star Platinum seemed more than happy to fill in.

You almost fall asleep with the amount of time that you stay like that, the slurry between your legs cooling and even stickier than before. You’re snapped out of it by Kakyoin’s voice, quiet and tender.

“Wanna get cleaned up?”

You blink at the proposition, the idea of a shower quite attractive in that moment as you find yourself drenched with sweat and doused with stickiness. Kakyoin nuzzles into your hair as you nod, the sweet smell of your sweat closing his eyes.

You don’t have to worry about supporting your weight, considering you have four very capable assistants helping you into the shower. The hot water might as well be holy water, absolving you of your sins and soreness. You support yourself in Jotaro’s sturdy embrace as Kakyoin runs the water over you, introducing a rose-scented soap that reminds you of country gardens. He runs a soft cloth across your chest, bubbles whisked away by the stream of the shower.

“She did so wonderfully, didn’t she, Jotaro?” Kakyoin mewls against the sound of the water battering the shower tile.

“I suppose,” Jotaro groans from behind you, his hands running down your inner thighs.

“C’mon, give her what she deserves,” Kakyoin asserts, sudsing your hair and massaging your scalp.

Jotaro swallows back a snarky one-liner about how he just spent the last hour and a half giving you what you deserve. He scoffs instead. “Yeah, you take dick like a champ.”

Kakyoin tsks, obviously finding Jotaro’s comment disagreeable. You take what you can get though, smiling with the sentiment. The clear-headedness that Jotaro gains from post-orgasm seems to have tightened his lips back to his usual reticent diction.

Star Platinum rinses your hair of the shampoo, keeping it out of your eyes. You close your eyes into the heat of the water and the surprising delicateness of Star Platinum’s ministrations, careful not to snag and tug your hair.

Jotaro’s hesitancy seems limited only to his words, his hands snaking around your leg to cup the soreness between them. You lurch forward onto Kakyoin’s chest, the stinging of the pressure of his fingers throwing a whine from your diaphragm. The noise brings Jotaro’s lips to your neck to sink his teeth into the sensitivity there. Kakyoin scolds him, but Jotaro is obviously unimpeded, his stubborn nature urging him to do exactly what he tells him not to do.

“It’s… it’s alright…” you utter, the stream of water muddling your words almost inaudible. Kakyoin meets Jotaro’s prowling graze, his eyebrow twitching in thought.

“Ah…” Kakyoin brushes wet hair from your face and kisses your forehead. “In that case…”

Jotaro ruts his hips against the small of your back, the hardness running across the hollow of your spine surprising. There’s no way he’s hard already, right?

He holds his shaft by the base and slaps the head against the softness of your ass to assert that yes, he is. His eyelashes balance drops of shower water as he closes his eyes, rocking into you with a roll of his hips. You grind your clit into Jotaro’s hand, the pleasure mixing with pain in a delicious cocktail, inebriating you once more.

Kakyoin brings your lips to his with a suggestive thumb on your chin. He gropes your breast, gently pinching the nipple into hardness before taking the mound of it into his palm.

“I think she deserves a reward for being so lovely for us,” Kakyoin hums into your waiting lips after breaking the kiss for just a moment.

You feel Jotaro growl into your shoulder, his tongue ribbing the indents of his teeth in your skin. He says nothing, his body doing all the speaking necessary. His finger loops around your clitoris, heated by blood and the water running down it. Kakyoin slings the cloth across your bare shoulder, freeing his other hand to slide a purposeful thumb across your lips before insisting its entrance between them.

You stabilize yourself with your palms against Kakyoin’s chest. Hierophant winds its way onto your arms, pressing your weight further onto him.

You think they’d better hurry before the water runs cold.

They don’t, the chippy midi tune from the television reverberating through the sounds of heated whines and grunts. The 'pause' menu flashes in a rhythm, too slow to match the pace of their fucking, awaiting your deferred return. It can wait, though, as you play a different game, one that you find much, much more satisfying to win.

Tags:

Threesome - F/M/M

Standcest (JoJo)

Predicament Bondage

Loss of Virginity

Double Penetration in Two Holes

Loss of Innocence

First Time Blow Jobs

Rough Sex

Rough Body Play

Cunnilingus

Creampie

Biting

Choking

Making Out

Sexual Tension

Explicit Sexual Content

Multiple Sex Positions

Multiple Penetration

Multiple Orgasms

Praise Kink

Pet Names

Seduction

Jealousy

Teasing

Anal Fingering

Double Anal Penetration

Double Vaginal Penetration

Vaginal Fingering

POV Second Person

Finger Sucking

Objectification

Aftercare

Showers

Post-Coital Cuddling

Spit Kink

Pining

#jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #x reader #jotaro x kakyoin x reader #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure #star platinum x reader #hierophant green x reader #star platinum #hierophant green #n/s/f/w

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nais-nook · 5 years

Text

Oroben - Pt 2

(Hey there! You may be liking/reblogging something without links to new pieces I may have written for this character, just letting you know in case you’re interested in reading more!)

I was gonna do another Naga part, or another monster all together (making moodboards that look good is hard). Imagine my surprise when I see that people enjoyed Oroben. So, here you go, I had fun writing this! I’m supposed to be figuring out coding right now but don’t tell anyone shhhh

~***~

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Summary: The mysterious fae follows up on your debt to him, although you didn’t think it would involve taking him home.

Pairing: Male Fae x Gender Neutral Reader.

Words: 3561.

“Not going to lie, I'm beginning to feel like this was a bad idea.” You curled your fingers in your gloves, hoping they wouldn’t lose feeling anytime soon.

“You and me both, babe.” Nia’s face was barely visible under her yellow woolly hat and chunky matching scarf.

“You wanna just turn back around?”

“Honestly, yes, but we are almost there, and the trek back is gonna take longer than getting to the place you got stuck in a fairy circle.”

“Well, at least it isn't snowing anymore.” You could see in front of you this time, and the only sound that could be heard was the crunch of the snow beneath your feet.

“Okay, I trust you.”

Nia pulled down her scarf so you could see her face properly and smiled, “I appreciate it.”

It was only minutes despite it feeling like hours, but you finally made it to the place Nia had found you laying in the snow, yet the fae man was nowhere to be seen.

You looked to Nia who shrugged. “I won't be able to see him. I didn't step into the circle.”

“Is that really how it works?”

“I kind of made it up. Your guess is as good as mine at this point.”

Pressing your lips together you turned slowly. The scenery may have been coated in snow, but his trousers were dark enough to be seen from a good way away.

“I can't see him.”

“Okay, you know what, seeing as he isn't here yet, let's set down some ground rules. First -”

“What do you mean by ‘yet’?” You asked, more than a little confused.

“We went out of our way to look for him, he's more than likely to show up.”

“But what if he doesn't?”

“Then we go home and hope he never shows up. Anyway, the rules. Don't say my name, at all. Don't give him your thanks ever again, even though you have to be polite, do not do that again.” She didn't look very convinced at the idea that you would accomplish that. “And whatever you do, do not agree to go back with him to the fairy world. Let's hope that's not his favour.”

“You know it's extremely rude to talk about someone behind their back.”

You made an undignified squeak, spinning around whilst frantically searching the treeline for the sight of him.

“Oh God, is he here?” Nia began to worriedly scour the trees with you. A few moments later he emerged from the trees, with that stupidly handsome smile on his face.

“I see him. There in front of us. I’d point but that’s rude.”

“I can't see him…”

“Oh, trust me, he's there.” The fae stepped forward a few steps before he stood still, standing far enough that you would have to raise your voice above normal speaking levels.

“Okay, whatever, he's probably doing it on purpose. Be polite and tell me whatever he says.”

“Are you two quite done?”

“Yeah, sorry,” You gave Nia’s hand a squeeze and took a deep breath before you faced him, “hello.”

“Hello again, (Y/n). May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, you can ask me a question.” You thought narrating what was going on would be best for Nia.

“Were you missing me so much that you came out looking for me?” If you were close enough, you were sure you'd be able to see a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“I did come looking for you, yes, but it was so you could answer some questions I had. If you please.” You tacked the ‘please’ onto the end and prayed your smile looked sincere.

“What a pity. Well then, what are your questions?”

“Oh,” You didn't think you would make it this far, “one moment please!”

He scoffed, then inclined his head and swept a hand in front of him in permission. You tugged Nia, who hadn't stopped staring at the place you indicated earlier, back a few steps.

“He said he's going to answer the questions we have.”

“Apparently,” she kept her voice hushed, “fae can't lie. So, hopefully, he will give us straight answers. Ask him for his name. And what he wants to do with you. And anything else that comes to mind.”

“Hey,” You stared him straight in the face, “you can't lie, can you?”

“I would have hoped you already knew that. You shouldn't ask someone if they're a liar.”

“So, you can lie…?”

“I can't lie.”

“You can't lie. Alright then. Why can't my friend see you?”

“Because she hasn't stepped into a fairy circle. Which is what I would say if I was a liar. But I can't, because I'm fae. She can't see me because I don't want her to see me.”

“He doesn't want you to see him, that's why you can't see him.” You resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose at that. “What's your name?”

“Oroben. But I'm not sure why you asked. A human can't have power over a fae by knowing their name, silly.”

“Your name is Oroben. Okay then.” You glanced at Nia, who just gave you a vague ‘I don't know’ gesture. You jumped when he growled.

“This is getting very annoying very quickly.”

“Oh shit!” She cursed, tripping over herself in her attempt to step backwards.

“Are you okay -”

“Don't say it!” She pointed at you accusingly before grasping your outheld hand. You pulled her up as you heard Oroben scoff.

“What a shame. I would have loved to hear her name too.”

“You're right, he does look like snow incarnate.” She looked equal parts terrified and in awe.

“Wait, you can see him?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice stern, “hearing you repeat yourself was getting rather dull.”

“So, Oroben. What was the favour you wanted?”

“Favour?” He cocked a brow.

Oh no. Did he not want anything? Did you just give him the idea to ask for something? That familiar feeling of panic was starting to creep into your system, yet again.

“Ah, yes. The thanks you gave me. Take me to where you are staying and then I will tell you.”

“No,” Nia looked at you and tried to whisper-yell, “that is mental, we can’t bring him back with us!”

“Weren’t you the one who said I owed him a favour?!”

“I did, but I didn’t think it would involve you bringing him back to our place.”

“Do we have a choice?”

“Are you refusing my request, (Y/n)?” Oroben called, his voice dripping with smugness.

“No, no, no, we are going now, aren’t we?” You pinned Nia with a pointed stare and nudged her for good measure.

“Fine.” She snapped at you before, turning on her heel and stalking away.

The entire way back was silent - a silence that was filled with tension and threatened to choke the air out of your lungs. You were constantly checking behind you to see if Oroben was following you along the snowy path. Sometimes when you glanced back he wasn’t there, and then the next time you did he was following with a smirk on his pale lips. When you had arrived at the cottage, Nia cleared a space for herself on the front step and sat down, ignoring both Oroben and yourself.

“So,” you awkwardly scratched your arm, “Oroben. Are you going to tell us what your favour is now?”

Oroben was leaning against a tree on the edge of the stone path, glaring daggers at the humble little house. “I want to be able to enter that again.”

“Wait, you can’t enter the house?” Nia asked, getting up and slowly surveying the cottage. She was doing so almost meticulously; her eyes were scanning the windowsills and the door.

She knew something, and she wasn’t telling you - which was fair considering Oroben was standing right there. Still, it would have been nice to know.

“No, I cannot, and I would like to be able to do so again. So,” he waved a hand dismissively, “fix it.”

“Fix it?” You looked at the house incredulously, “Oroben, I don’t even know what’s stopping you in the first place!”

He sent a glare your way, arms crossed as he pushed himself away from the tree and stood directly in front of you. “You don’t. But she does.”

Nia froze for a moment before she sighed and faced you both. “Yeah, I do. Sorry, (Y/n).”

“You knew? How come I didn’t?”

“When I found you standing inside the fairy circle, I blamed your idiocy on you being confused.” Oroben rolled his eyes, “Now I’m beginning to believe you actually are that stupid.”

Nia’s jaw dropped while Oroben smiled wryly at your expense.

“Okay, next time it’s bully-(Y/n)-week please let me know so I can mark it in my calendar and prepare in advance.”

Nia placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze before replying, “Sorry, honey.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shrugged her hand off and awkwardly looked between the two of them, “So, uh, what are the things that stop you from going into the house?”

“The flowers in the window,” he turned up his nose and then pointed to a horseshoe that you didn’t even realise was hanging in the doorway, “and iron, get rid of it.”

Nia looked like she wanted to punch him in the face but managed to refrain. “You want us to pull the flowers out?”

“Yes,” Oroben said it with such resolve you were shocked still for a couple of seconds, unlike Nia, who looked like she was going to follow up on her urge to deck his lights out. However, before she could do anything you dragged her around the corner of the house and gave a half-hearted apology to Oroben.

“Don’t do it.”

“(Y/n), every time I come here I care for these flowers as if they were my children, and now some hoity-toity fae dude is telling me to rip them out?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Ugh.” She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “It’s not your fault. Well, it is, but I’m not holding you accountable for it or anything, don’t worry.”

“You’re the best.”

“You know,” she pulled off her hat, making her hair spring up in multiple directions, “one of these days that isn’t gonna work on me anymore. And then what are you gonna do?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Cry, maybe grovel a little bit?”

“You better,” she joked. She patted you on the head, then looked at her flowers sadly.

After you gave Nia a quick hug, you rounded the corner to find Oroben standing on the steps, his hands reaching for the flowers on the windowsill as if he was going to pull them out. Then he sighed and retracted his hands, looking at both you with impatience written all over his face.

“Well? Are you two quite done?”

“I’m not ripping them from their roots.” Nia gave Oroben the hardest stare you had ever seen her give another living thing. Suddenly you were glad she was on your side. “But I’ll move the pots so they aren’t blocking the window.”

“You are not in a position to be making demands,” His voice was dangerously low, and you positioned yourself in between the two of them. You may have been the reason that this situation came to pass, but you were not under any circumstances going to let Nia get hurt for something she didn’t do.

“I’m not the one who owes you a favour, they are. So, if you'll excuse me please, I would like to remove those flowerpots for you.”

She stormed right past him and you had to admire her resolve - you probably would have listened to his instructions and followed them exactly, not demanded he take an alternative. Then again, Nia wasn’t the one who was on a metaphorical leash.

“Aren’t you going to remove the horseshoes, (Y/n)?”

That strange fuzzy feeling overtook your brain, and you ended up telling him how you felt about it before you could bite down on the words, “Can you stop doing that?”

Oroben raised his white brows, then laughed like you told him the funniest joke he had ever heard. Within a split second he had grabbed the front of your coat and jerked you towards him. You were nose to nose and you instantly felt the blood drain from your face.

Oroben then murmured in your ear, “While what your friend over there said is true, you are definitely not in a position to be making demands. So, when I asked you to take those wretched horseshoes down, your answer should have been ‘Yes, of course, Oroben.’”

He released his grip and you stumbled back, hand on your chest, heart beating fast. Without a word you went to ask Nia for a step ladder.

***

He glided through the halls, the disdain that was plastered on his face hadn’t moved an inch as he inspected every surface.

“My grandparents are probably turning in their graves!” Nia wailed.

You tried your best to comfort her, although she was doing a lot less sobbing and a lot more complaining. If you were in the proximity of a bed and not currently on the Livingroom floor you were sure she would have flung herself across it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t, honey,” she leaned her head on your shoulders, “It just sucks that this happened to us.”

“Yeah. It does.” you agreed, sitting up straight when Oroben drifted through the door.

“Is she done? I’m growing tired of her wallowing.”

Nia clenched her fists and gave you a pitying look, “Yeah, you’re on your own for this. I’m gonna go and put the pile of flower pots outside in the shed for now and figure out what I’m gonna do with them later.”

“Hey, where are you -”

“Bye (Y/n), remember your manners,” she sang as she carefully stepped around Oroben and headed to the front garden.

You groaned, then realised Oroben was still in the room and apologised as quickly as you could. Oroben just raised his hand, silencing you as he gazed off in the direction Nia had disappeared to. “I can’t tell whether I like your friend or whether I want to drown her.”

He laughed at your horrified expression, then hummed quietly to himself, “Well, if she really means that much to you maybe I’ll think twice before I do it.”

Your brows shot up and you were thankful he was looking back to the front of the house. Did he really just say he would consider your feelings? Everything he had done up until this point made you sceptical.

“So, Oroben...”

“Yes?” He stepped into the light that shone through the bay window, then tentatively sat down cross-legged on the hardwood floor and basked in the sunlight. The rays lit up his snowy hair, creating a halo of sorts. He looked relaxed and beautiful in all his glory.

“You were allowed to come into the house before?”

“Before your friend's grandparents took this property it belonged to a woman. She was lovely and always welcomed my visits.” His eyes snapped open to glare at you, “Then your friend's grandparents decided visits from my kind were no longer welcome and put up those horrid fae repellents so no one could enter.”

You were unsure as to how you were supposed to react to his death stare, settling for avoiding his stare and shuffling in your position awkwardly. Oroben sighed dramatically and lay gracefully on the floor, still within the pooling light. “It wasn’t your fault. Besides, I’ve fixed the mess they created now. As long as you don’t put anything back up when I leave, I believe your debt to me will have been paid.”

Those few words gave you buckets of hope, but you were still curious. What was so important about this house that he felt like he deserved to walk around inside freely?

“Why do you want to be allowed in so badly? Was their privacy really so insignificant to you?”

“Privacy is one thing, and complete denial of access is an entirely different thing, dear (Y/n). I made it very clear that no one was to bother them, I had no qualms with them staying here.”

You whistled, low and smooth before indulging him with your thoughts, “You must have a lot of power to be able to tell everyone what to do and where to go.”

“Were you not aware that this entire woodland belongs to my father?”

“I didn’t know fae existed until literally yesterday.”

“Really?” Oroben gazed at you, surprise written all over his face. You never knew he could make such an expression. It was almost endearing. “Are you humans really that uneducated?”

And now it’s not endearing anymore, you thought as you sighed through your nose, hoping your face didn’t let him know how much you wanted to hit him. “Yes, we are. But we are getting off topic. If no one bothered them, then why did Ni - I mean, my friend's grandparents put up all the stuff to stop you guys from getting in?”

“Oh, I cannot wait for the day you allow your friend's name to accidentally slip through your pretty lips.” His grin was wolfish. The day you gave him Nia’s name would be a very cold day in hell indeed. He chuckled before he continued, “They didn’t put them up as soon as they moved here. It was a year or two afterwards. I know why they did it. Those conniving pixies were playing nasty little tricks on the old couple.”

“You really don’t like pixies, do you Oroben?”

“No, I do not.” The curl of his lips was enough to tell you that. “They are the reason why people fear us so much. They don’t listen to anyone who is below the King, and even then they are difficult to placate. At best they're a nuisance, at worst they are downright cruel. I can’t believe we have the same blood running through our veins.”

“Well,” your curiosity had gotten the best of you as you slid across the floor, joining him in the sun, “what did they do?”

Oroben raised a brow at you before closing his eyes and sighing. You noticed he did a lot of sighing. “It started off with them moving their belongings around the house. Then they began to steal them. It wasn’t long before they started leaving dead things on their front step, in their garden. I had finally managed to get them to leave the couple alone before I went to apologise. They took one look at me and the next I remember was waking up in the forest. I’m just thankful I know the woodland like the back of my hand or I would have been in a lot of trouble.”

“Why can’t you remember?” You realised it was a stupid question as soon as it reached your ears, but it was out there and you couldn’t do much to take it back now.

“Does your friend know any magic?” He asked, sitting up in such a languid way you were sure it was something only posing models could achieve.

“Are you suggesting her nan blasted you back to the forest with magic?”

“Until yesterday you didn’t know my kind existed, is magic really so farfetched?”

“Okay, you got me there.”

He smiled and made his way over to the window. “Your friend is almost done out there.”

“I’m gonna make her some hot chocolate. She’s probably freezing.” Dusting off your jeans you started to head for the kitchen until Oroben placed his hand on your shoulder and spun you around again. He pressed something cool into the palm of your hand and whispered a small thanks into your ear. You cocked a brow at him and grinned.

“Oroben, you thanked me. I think you owe me a favour now.”

“Hardly.” He scoffed and moved away just as Nia walked through the door. “Well, I will take my leave. I will see you two again very soon. (Y/n). (Y/n)’s friend.”

And with that, he was gone.

“What, we took away the things that stopped him from coming in and now he thinks it’s free real estate or something?”

“Probably. Want something to drink?”

“Please,” she shrugged out of her coat, “I’m freezing my ass off.”

Nia followed you into the kitchen. You placed Oroben’s gift on the kitchen counter, not giving it a second glance as you went to grab milk from the fridge.

“(Y/n),” you turned to see Nia holding Oroben’s gift - it was a gorgeous little heart-shaped locket, “where did you get this from?��

“Oroben gave it to me, why?”

She slammed her head down on the kitchen counter so violently it made you jump.

“Nia…?” You asked warily.

“Am I going to have to write you a list of what you can and can’t do?”

“Please don’t tell me this is a don’t.”

“Yes. Yes, it is. Don’t take gifts from fairies. That’s probably what he meant by ‘I’ll see you again soon.’ You owe him another favour, dumbass.”

“Oh, for the love of -” You slammed the fridge door shut.

#monster boyfriend #again is he a monster?#Oroben #part 2 #nais nook #guys why do you like him hes a dick lmao #actually hes nice in a weird way ngl #expect more because reader is a dumbass #aka me #fae #folklore #exophilia

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fanfics-of-marvel · 5 years

Text

Predator & Prey (Pt. 1)

Release date: 08/08/2019

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Y/N: You get the exclusive chance to join an intership at the Avengers Headquarters where you move in. On your first day you sense Bucky’s eyes preying on you. Over the time he hunts you down and eventually catches you in your bedroom.

Words count: 6.6K

A/N: Part 1 of what I’m planning on to continue with more parts. Undecided how many. I guess for as long as there’s interest in it or as long as I feel like working on it.

Warning: Smut, foul words, naughtiness, dirty talk, sexual teasing, Daddy kink, oral sex, intercourse, hair pulling (holding)

x → Part 2

One Shots | Masterlist

Taglist: @all-things-marvel-related ; @steeeeverogers ; @chipilerendi ; want to join?

The content is 18+ and you musn’t read it if you are younger than that!

I’m not a native English speaker, so there might be spelling or grammatical mistakes.

———————————————–

Your heartbeat was going crazy. You were standing in front of the Avengers Headquarters gaining confidence to step inside. Your pupils were dilated, your breathing heavy. You were squeezing your bag in your hands so hard that your knuckles were completely white. Suddenly, you felt some blood in your mouth. You just now realized you had been biting your tongue. You were so damn nervous.

Just 2 weeks earlier you had gotten the most amazing chance ever – an internship at the Avengers Headquarters. You had freshly graduated from Business School and needed to gain work experience. You applied to many jobs, went to many interviews. But the cold cruel reality hit you hard. Everyone rejected you, neglected you. You were slowly losing hope. Until that day.

As always Tony Stark’s generosity had no boundaries. In one of his many youth projects he provided jobs for a whole bunch of graduates, one of which being you. Some people went to big fancy companies. Some were sent abroad for some special experience. Some got their startups financed. Some had the amazing chance to join the Avengers in their Headquarters. And you were one of the few lucky people.

Your job, of course, was pretty simple. You had to help with the administration work. Boring, when you thought about it. But it was once in a lifetime chance. And a great kick-start to what could be a great career.

You were looking at the backs of the other interns. They had just walked inside. You could hear them marvel at the lobby. You bet it was quite the view. You would have seen it as well if you weren’t terrified to walk inside.

Part of the deal was to actually move in the building and live there for as long as the internship lasted. The thought if it terrified you. You weren’t a very talkative and communicative person. You really preferred the peace and quiet of your own company. And the thought of you being stuffed in a huge building with shit lots of people and god knows how many roommates almost made you decline the offer. Luckily for you eventually you accepted.

While you were about to faint under the hot sun one of the security guards approached you. “Miss, you really should go inside. If you stay here a little longer I might have to arrest you.” The man said sarcastically but with a serious tone.

This was it. You took a deep breath and found the missing confidence. Surprisingly, your legs started moving and a moment later you were inside. You gasped. You totally understood the others from earlier. While you were spinning around exploring the place you heard somebody approaching you.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” The person asked you.

You jumped startled and turned around. You gasped once again – it was Natasha Romanoff. You had always admired her. Her skills, her strength, her femininity. You were getting even more hyped. You knew you were about to meet all of the Avengers sooner or later.

“What’s your name?” She asked you.

“Y/N.” You finally replied. You were literally just staring at her.

Natasha giggled for a moment. “Well, Y/N. You need to follow me.” She added.

Natasha brought you to a big conference room. You were seated with the rest of the interns. Apparently, there was a ceremony. A person stepped on the stage and explained she would be the supervisor responsible for the interns. Then some other people appeared. You could literally feel your eyelids closing. Those people couldn’t have been more boring even if they tried.

Until the man himself stepped onto the stage. Anthony Howard Stark with all of his fame and glory. Everyone’s breath stopped. You woke up so hard that it felt like you would never be able to fall back asleep again. Tony Stark seemed so close, so reachable, so humble. He gave the best speech you’ve ever heard about the why he was doing this. The importance of these youth projects. The legacy he wanted to leave behind. Completely unhidden you shed a few tears. He spoke so beautifully.

What shocked you the most was the fact that everybody got their own rooms. That was right – you were going to be completely alone in your bedroom. That was a major relief. You were feeling better already. Not to mention that the room itself was huge. You had a big bed, a desk, a TV for yourself and your own freaking bathroom. You nearly fainted.

After the ceremony you were told there would be a party in the evening. You got terrified again – parties were not your favorite thing. And you didn’t even know what to wear. Completely out of nowhere you were saved again.

“I’ll help you get ready.” Natasha told you after you spoke to her about your insecurities. She was slowly turning into your secret unofficial mentor.

Natasha trashed all of your clothes and ended up with the conclusion that you had nothing appropriate. “Come with me.” She finally said.

A moment later you were in her room. And some more moments later you were completely ready. Natasha gave you one of her dresses which fit on you perfectly. It was black, to your knees, closed cleavage but narrow straps. High heels and an elegant bun. Some make-up for a final touch and you were ready to party. At least on the outside.

After Natasha got ready as well you got to the party. There already was music and a lot of people. So many people. Too many people. You literally cling onto her. Natasha sensed the fact you needed a leader to walk you around. And that was what she did. You said hi to Wanda, shook hands with Rhodey, said a few words to Sam and, oh god, saw Captain America up close. You literally stared at him and his fit physique. Steve Rogers was quite the something. He tried to speak to you but you blacked out. Natasha pulled you aside and told Steve that maybe later you would gain your ability to speak again.

You were slowly starting to relax and actually enjoy the party. Everyone was nice and polite. You seemed to have been accepted. You didn’t even notice when Natasha had walked away to say a few words to Sam. You were slightly dancing by yourself at the rhythm of the music when it happened.

While your eyes were looking around the place they met with the eyes of somebody else. You shuddered. They were looking at you as they were preying on you. You quickly recognized who the eyes belonged to – Bucky Barnes a.k.a. The Winter Soldier. You knew a lot about him. Everybody knew a lot about him. Ever since the information was leaked on the internet. You also knew he didn’t talk much, didn’t go out much. You weren’t really expecting to see him at the party. And yet – there he was. Standing at the other side of the big table, looking at you, consuming you.

Your breathing got irregular, your heartbeat accelerated. You never realized until now how handsome he was. How beautiful his steel blue eye were. How fit his body was. How fascinating the metal arm on his shoulder looked.

You faced away. You felt slightly uncomfortable by the way he was looking at you. You now noticed Natasha wasn’t there. You tried to find her with your eyes but there were too many people. You slightly started to panic. You took a deep breath and looked to your right again. Bucky was gone. You sighed in relief. Nevertheless, you still had the feeling his eyes were all over you.

For the rest of the evening you didn’t let Natasha leave your side again. You kept on looking around for Bucky but he was gone. Only if you knew that this was the beginning of his hunt.

At the end of the evening while you were about to wish good night to Natasha you asked her the question that was on your mind ever since you sensed those eyes. “What can you say about Bucky Barnes? I saw him at the party but didn’t get the chance to meet with him.” You were trying to sound as if it was a casual question without any back thoughts.

“He doesn’t talk much.” Natasha replied. “He doesn’t go out much. He’s mostly in the building. But he’s harmless. He only looks scary.” She added with a smile.

You sighed in relief. Perhaps you had misjudged him. He was living with a lot of people. If there was something wrong he would have killed everyone by now.

The internship started on the next day. You were spending your entire time in or around the building. It was hard for you to get used to that but you were doing fine. You were sharing the kitchen, the living room, the laboratory and pretty much everything with the rest of the people. And that didn’t mean just the interns – the Avengers themselves as well. You had lunch with Wanda once. Watched some TV with Sam and Scott. Once you played a video game with Peter, who was visiting. Heck, you even played chess with Bruce Banner. He won, of course. However, there was no sign of Bucky. Until that day.

You had just finished your lunch. It had been about a week after the party. Suddenly, you had that feeling again. You slowly turned around and saw Bucky at the other side of the dining room. You gasped. The previous time you saw him it was underneath flashing lights in a dark room. But now you were seeing him in broad daylight. He looked even more handsome. His eyes were even more beautiful. His body seemed even more fit highlighted by his tight t-shirt. His metal arm wildly provoked your imagination. You couldn’t tell what was about it but it was slowly driving you crazy.

You felt uncomfortable again. You looked away because you couldn’t stand the tension. You grabbed your dirty dishes. You had to bring them to the kitchen and get back to work. Except that Bucky was blocking the exit. While you were gaining confidence to look back at him you heard somebody speak behind you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You jumped startled. It was Wanda. She seemed to have lunch around the same time as you.

“Oh, hey.” You replied distracted while breathing heavily.

“Are you alright?” She asked you.

You noticed Bucky was gone. Hidden again away from your eyesight. But you were certain he could see. You felt like a helpless gazelle out in the savannah knowing the predator was near. Observing you, preying on you. You were looking around as if you would find his eyes, so you would know in which direction to run in order to escape his hunt.

Wanda was looking at you suspiciously. You really were acting weird. You sensed that and forced a smile.

“I was trying to find something that I seem to have lost.” You sounded as convincing as possible. “But apparently it’s not here.”

Wanda smiled in a reply. “Well, I hope you find it, anyway.” She sounded genuine but you noticed your behavior made her uncomfortable.

You just smiled back and continued with your daily activities. You were way too uncomfortable to speak to anybody about your encounters with Bucky. Not even to Natasha.

The internship continued and so did your life at the Avengers Headquarters. It wasn’t happening every day but every now and then you would get that feeling again. More often or not you would actually catch Bucky looking at you. And his eyes were consuming you, feasting on you. The more you were staring back at them, the more you were falling. You would sometimes sense yourself walking towards him. Getting that sweet burning sensation of pleasure in your lower tummy area. Your nipples would harden. Your pussy would get wet. Your breathing would become heavier, your heartbeat would rise. Was he releasing some poison that was consuming you and making you surrender to him? You couldn’t tell but that was how it felt. And right before you would fall at his feet he would walk away leaving you dizzy and disoriented.

All of those little games, little hunts were taking over you. His face, his body, his whole being was slowly displacing everything else from your mind. Even your performance at the internship started to go down. Everyone was surprised since you were the best of the rest. No one could tell what the reason was. And you definitely couldn’t tell anybody what the reason was. That you were bedazzled by this quiet man with the metal arm who was a former assassin. That the thought of him, his body, his face, his eyes was driving you crazy, that was making your pussy excited.

Nevertheless, you were so young, so innocent. You had a boyfriend a little bit before that who introduced you to the sex life. But after the second time he dumped you. He really was with you just so he could sleep with you. Once the deed was done – he disposed of you. You completely lost the trust in men, so by the end of your education you didn’t let anyone else near you. And that was the reason why Bucky’s eyes were making you so uncomfortable. You wanted him, desired him but at the meantime you were frightened. Terrified of the fact you didn’t have much sexual experience.

One night, about 3 weeks since your first encounter with Bucky, your thoughts of him weren’t letting you fall asleep. You got out of bed and walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. You were wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Basically, your pajamas. Normally, you would put a sweatshirt or a bra on but you assumed everyone was asleep, so you walked there with your nipples visible from beneath.

As you filled the glass with water you felt it again. You slowly put the glass down and turned around. You saw the eyes. Those hunting eyes. And this time Bucky was sanding much closer to you. You gasped. He was enchanting you again.

“Hello. We haven’t met yet.” Suddenly, he spoke. “My name is Bucky.”

You were just staring at him. You forgot how to speak. This was the first time you heard his voice. It sounded so mysterious, so exciting, so soft but also so captivating.

“Do you have a name?” He asked you with a slight smile.

Your knees bended. Luckily, you were holding yourself on the kitchen countertop. You cleared your throat. “Y-Y/N.” You stuttered.

“What a lovely name.” Bucky said so softly that your elbows bended as well. You weren’t going to hold yourself much longer on the countertop.

Then you saw Bucky’s eyes moving down from your face to your breasts. And more specifically – your nipples. The sight seemed to have gotten him a little excited. He smirked and bit his lower lip. You gulped. Even though he was only looking at them it almost felt like he was touching them.

There was a sudden noise nearby. Somebody was approaching. Suddenly, Sam walked in the kitchen.

“You two can’t sleep as well, huh?” He asked with a smile.

“Yeah, I wanted some water.” You tried to sound as normal as possible.

Saying those words to Sam made you look away from Bucky. When you looked back he was gone again. Little did you know that his hunt was going towards an end.

You wished Sam good night and walked to your bedroom. It was time for the predator to attack.

You were at the door of your room when you felt somebody behind you. You turned around startled and realized Bucky was just a few centimeters away from you. You gasped. But also froze in terror. The helpless gazelle was trapped.

Suddenly, he lifted his metal arm and moved a few strands of hair from your face to behind your ear. You barely took a breath. His metal arm was so cold. But also so sensual.

“May I come in?” Bucky asked you.

You were mesmerized, hypnotized. There wasn’t a single sound coming out of you. You were just staring into his eyes which were enchanting you. Bucky reached for the doorknob and opened the door. He made a step forward as his body pushed yours. Completely imperceptibly you two walked inside.

As having lots of empty space behind your back you started to walk away from him. You were slowly getting to realize what he had come for. You were excited but terrified. Your natural needs were awoken by his captivating eyes, his fit body, his metal arm. But the lack of experience made you frightened. You were still so young, still so innocent. You wanted to scream for help but it was as though he was stopping you just with his eyes.

Your legs hit your bed and they bended. You sat down. Bucky walked towards you. You couldn’t catch a breath. You were shivering like a prey noticing the hunting predator running towards them in an attack.

Bucky stopped in front of you. He stroked your hair again. “Shhh.” He made a comforting sound. “Is this your first time?”

You shook your head. You had done it before. You just didn’t have much experience.

“Good.” Bucky said as his eyes were hypnotizing you even more. “Lay upon the bed.”

You took a sharp breath, your heart went crazy. You had absolutely no idea what was going to happen. You desired his touch but what if it hurt you? You desired his lips but what if they were poisonous? You desired his body but what if it was more than you could take?

Nevertheless, just like that you obeyed. How was he doing that? While still staring into his eyes you lied down on your back. Your breathing was almost gone. Your heart was going crazy. Your thoughts were racing through your head. You had absolutely no idea what he was going to do to you.

Bucky put his knees on the bed and then his hands. He was over you. He lowered himself. You felt his body covering yours. You slightly whimpered.

“Shhh.” Bucky comforted you again. “You’re going to love it. I promise.” He whispered in your ear.

Then you felt Bucky’s metal arm holding the right side of your face as his lips found yours. Before you knew it his tongue was exploring the inside of your mouth. Your breath stopped for a moment. It had been a while since you had kissed somebody. You had almost forgotten how good it felt.

Bucky made a few movements, so that your legs would spread to the sides. He placed his pelvic between them. You felt his hard dick pressing your pussy. You grabbed the sheets. The excitement and the terror were fighting over inside of you. And the terror was slowly winning.

You started to shiver again. You were so inexperienced. So innocent. His enormous body covering yours terrified you. He was blocking you, had you trapped. You couldn’t run away even if you wanted to. You were too frightened even to scream. The helpless gazelle knew its fate.

“Shhh.” Bucky comforted yet again. “Calm down, babe.” Your body was going out of control.

“I don’t… I haven’t…” You stuttered.

“You said it wasn’t your first time.” He sounded so soft.

“Yes… but…” It was hard for you to talk. “I don’t… I don’t…” You swallowed and found the words. “I’m not very experienced.” You whispered as if it was a bad thing. Your heart was about to break free from your chest. Your breathing was leaving you. Your whole body was refusing to move pressed underneath him.

Bucky smirked. His lips got next to your ear again. “Then let me guide you.” He whispered. His voice was so mesmerizing. So comforting. So assuring. “Let me show you. Let me teach you.” And then suddenly Bucky’s voice changed. He sounded imperious. “Let me own you.”

You gasped.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Bucky said still so domineering as he grabbed your jaw with his metal arm. “You’re mine now.”

You couldn’t breathe. His metal arm was so cold it took your breath away. It clenched so hard that you feared it might break your jaw.

“And I’ll do anything I want to you.” He said in your ear.

Your heartbeat was out of control.

“You know why?” Bucky asked.

Your eyes slowly moved and met with his. You could see the passion and the wild in him. You could see the animal in him. The basic instinct that lied inside every men. He was a predator and you were his prey. He had hunt you down and he had caught you. Now you were his to do as he pleased.

There was a spark in your eyes. Little did you expect that such a game would excite you. The more you stared into Bucky’s eyes, the more you surrendered to him. Your shivering started to fade away, your heartbeat calmed down, your breathing restored.

Suddenly, you realized that this was what you wanted as well. He was a sexual predator. And you were his sexual prey. You were his now, he owned you. You slowly realized where this was going.

You finally found the words. “Because you’re my Daddy.”

Bucky shuddered. It would seem he didn’t expect you to say this. To have realized it on your own. He took a few sharp breaths. Then his metal arm clenched even harder on your jaw. You slightly whimpered.

Bucky leaned on your ear again. “That’s right.” He said excited. “I’m your Daddy. And you are mine.” He paused for a moment. “And I own you.” He whispered.

You quietly gasped. Your body still refusing to move.

Bucky slightly released his grip. “Say it.” He whispered in your ear.

You took a sharp breath. “You’re my Daddy.” You said quietly.

“Louder, baby. Come on.”

You slightly sighed. “You’re my Daddy.” You said louder. “I am yours.”

“And?” He really wanted to hear it out of your sweet tasty lips.

“And… you own me.” You said with a moan. The game was overwhelming you.

“That’s right.” Bucky said in your ear. “And don’t you forget it.”

You were breathing heavily again. You were slightly sighing. “What are going to do to me, Daddy?” You asked completely sucked into the game.

The predator was about to feast upon his prey. Bucky licked his lips. He was hungry. Hungry for you.

“First I’m going to undress you.” He said in your ear still holding your jaw. “Slowly and intimately.”

You couldn’t breathe.

“Then I’m going to taste your flesh. Your tasty skin.”

You felt dizzy.

“Then I’m going to make you scream.”

You looked at him. He saw terror in your eyes.

“Scream in pleasure, babe.” Bucky said softly. “Your Daddy is here to please you. To own your body. But to make it writhe in ecstasy.”

You moaned again. The excitement was building up in your body. It needed to be released.

Bucky finally let go of your jaw. It felt numb. Nevertheless, you managed to move it. He lifted himself and grabbed his t-shirt. A moment later it was thrown aside. You gasped at the marvel of his body. Not to mention his metal arm. Now you were fully seeing it.

Then he grabbed the bottom of your t-shirt and pulled it up until it revealed your breasts. Bucky’s hands stroked your nude body. His touch felt divine. His metal arm was so cold that it sent shivers throughout your entire body. Nevertheless, it felt so good. So good that you slightly sighed.

Bucky’s hands got to your breasts. He grabbed them and squeezed. You sighed even more. His hands slipped underneath you and pulled you up. You completely obeyed. You sat upon the bed and Bucky pulled the t-shirt off of your body. Once it was thrown away he looked at you. You were looking at his eyes waiting for them to tell you what to do.

“Lay down, baby.” Bucky finally said.

You obeyed.

He leaned upon you and stroked your hair. “That’s a good girl.”

Then his hands touched all over your body. You were sighing even more. That damn metal arm. Why did it feel so good?

Bucky’s hands got to your shorts. He pulled them down and then threw them aside.

He looked at you playfully. “What about your underwear?” He asked you with a smirk.

“Off, Daddy. Take it off.” You said with a moan.

“You want me to take it off?” He was teasing you.

“Yes, Daddy. Take it off.” You were moaning even more. You wanted him to get you naked. To own you, please you, do anything he wanted.

“Maybe I want you with underwear on.” Bucky seemed insistent.

“No, Daddy. Please. Take it off.” You were begging him.

“Well…” Bucky started. “Since you said please.” He added with a smirk as he grabbed your underwear.

He pulled it off gently and slowly. Making sure you were feeling his touch on your legs. Your body was squirming in excitement.

Once your panties were thrown aside as well Bucky held your ankles in the air and spread your legs.

“What do we have here?” He asked you naughty while looking at your pussy. “The hole of pleasure?” He asked you as he licked his lips. He couldn’t wait to taste you.

You were looking at him with desire. You longed for his touch, his lips, his dick. He was shamelessly hiding it. Not just in his underwear but in his pants as well. You reached your hand forward as if to grab it.

“Oh no, baby. Not yet.” Bucky said as he gently pushed your hand aside.

“Please, Daddy. I want it.” You moaned once again.

“I know, babe. But you can’t have it yet.”

You whimpered. You wanted his dick so badly that you felt like you were about to cry. “But I said please.” You tried his strategy.

Bucky smirked. “Don’t worry, babe. You’re going to get it.” He said as his right hand slipped down. He grabbed his own package and made a sound in pleasure.

You gasped. You were so jealous of Bucky’s own hand. You wanted to touch his dick as well. You reached your hand forward again. Bucky decided to be good. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his crotch. You gasped. He felt so big. It felt so good holding Bucky’s package. You slowly started massaging it. He started sighing and got carried away. He let you stroke it for too long.

Suddenly, he grabbed your arm with his metal one and pulled it to aside. You screamed. It really hurt you. “Not yet.” He whispered imperiously.

Then Bucky leaned over you and shove his face in your tummy. His stubble beard scratched your skin. His hair gently tickled it. His lips blessed it. Suddenly, you sighed. His lips felt so good on your naked skin. So gentle, so soft. Like they were made specifically for you.

“You like it, babe?” Bucky asked you naughty.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He continued tasting your skin. Your tummy, your hips, your breasts. You were sighing more and more. You felt his tongue around your nipple. You grabbed the sheets. Bucky’s tongue tasted your skin everywhere. Your breasts, your neck, your thighs. The predator was tasting its prey.

“You’re so delicious, babe.” He whispered in your ear after which licked it as well. “Time to taste the real deal.” Bucky added naughty as he headed south.

You took a sharp breath. You knew what was coming.

Bucky gently kissed your neck, then your breasts, then continued down on your tummy until he reached your pubis bone. You could feel his breath upon it. Your moaning was getting louder. He gently kissed it. Then Bucky grabbed your thighs and spread your legs even more. You were lying completely still. You had fully surrendered.

There was it. His breath upon your pussy. You were losing it. Then suddenly you felt his tongue pressed upon it as he licked it from down to up. You sighed sharply. It felt so good.

“Oh, babe. You’re even more delicious down here.” Bucky said. You smirked.

He used his hands to spread your labia. His tongue slipped between them and inside of you. You were still squeezing the sheets. Bucky’s tongue was so playful. It was going in and out of your pussy. Licking your labia. Licking your clit. Your moaning was getting louder. But still far away from the promised screaming.

After the tease Bucky focused only your clit. Licking it, sucking it between his lips. A quiet “Yes” slipped out of your mouth. Bucky didn’t stop until he felt your pulsating orgasm. It felt sweet and satisfying. But you definitely wanted more.

After the deed was done Bucky lifted himself and lied upon you once again. “Come on, babe. Taste yourself.” He said as his tongue invaded your mouth.

You shuddered. You could taste your vaginal fluids on his tongue.

“Did you like it?” Bucky asked you as he broke the kiss.

“Yes, Daddy.” Was the only sound that came out of you.

“Good.” He said as he grabbed your jaw again with his metal arm. He leaned over your ear. “Because this was only the warm up.”

You gasped. You wanted this so badly. And then you saw it happen. Bucky unbuttoned his pants. Then the zipper went down. You took a sharp breath. He got up and pulled his pants down. There was a big bulge in his underwear. You wanted to see it so badly.

Bucky grabbed the top of his underwear but stopped. And so did your breathing. You two stayed like this for a few seconds. You were losing it. You felt like you were going to cry. You wanted Bucky’s dick more than anything.

“Sit to the front, babe.” He finally said.

You obeyed. You pushed yourself up. You found it a little hard from all of the excitement built in your body and the little orgasm from earlier. You sat on the edge of the bed staring at Bucky’s eyes.

“Don’t look at me.” He said with a smirk.

Your eyes slowly moved from his face to his neck, chest, tummy and then stopped at the big bulge in his underwear. You gasped.

“You want to see it?” Bucky asked you naughty.

“Yes, Daddy.” You replied with desire without breaking eye contact with his dick.

“How bad do you want to see it?” He was driving you crazy with his tease.

“Please, Daddy.” You whispered. You were about to fall apart. “I really want to see it.”

Bucky’s right hand moved in his underwear and grabbed his dick. He made a sound in pleasure. You could see his hand stroking his cock but you couldn’t see it. You were getting jealous again.

“Please, Daddy. I want your dick.” You said at the brink of falling apart.

Bucky smirked and pulled his underwear down revealing his full length. Your breathing stopped. He was so big. Long and thick. You felt cold sweat all over your body. Were you even able to take it? The terror was making its way back but the excitement was chasing it away.

Bucky’s boxers fell around his ankles and he kicked them away. He made a step closer to you and his metal arm slipped at the back of your head. He grabbed your hair, so that he would have full control over your head.

“Open wide, babe.” He ordered you.

Your pupils dilated. The two sexual experiences you’ve had never included a dick in your mouth. You were excited, yet terrified. Your heartbeat accelerated. What would it feel like? What would it taste like? Was your mouth big enough to take it?

Nevertheless, you obeyed. While still staring at Bucky’s eyes you felt his head on your lips. It was so soft and so firm. There already was pre-cum. The slimy substance made you shiver. You reached your tongue out and licked it. You really wanted to taste Bucky. It was strong and sour. You shuddered.

Bucky was looking down at you with a slight smirk. He loved the view. His dick combined with your pretty lips. And that tongue of yours felt really good gently licking the tip of his cock. He sighed. He bit his lower lip and moved to action.

Suddenly, you felt Bucky’s dick making its way inside of your mouth. You barely took it. The hard structure stretched your lips, the soft skin stroked your tongue, the head pushed the back of your throat which made you gag a little. Instinctively, you jumped as to take it out.

“Shhh.” Bucky comforted you once again.

He squeezed your hair. The control over your head was fully in his metal arm. You couldn’t move it. His dick was still inside of your mouth. The gag was still present but not as much. You stopped your struggle.

“That’s a good girl.” Bucky whispered.

Then he started thrusting his dick inside of your mouth. It was gently and consistent. Your lips and cheeks were struggling with his size. Your tongue was tasting his pre-cum with every thrust. You were slightly gagging from his head pressing your throat.

You heard Bucky sigh. That made you even hornier. Your body was fully surrendered to him. He owned you and you knew it.

“Babe, this hole is wonderful.” You heard him say. “Shall we try the other?” He asked as if you could answer with his dick in your mouth.

Suddenly, you felt Bucky taking his dick out. Saliva drooled down your face. He grabbed you and threw you on the bed. You bounced off. A second later he was on top of you. He used his right hand to collect the saliva around your lips. He separated your legs and spread it on your pussy. He smirked.

“You’re wet enough, babe. Are you ready?” He asked you.

You gasped. You were more than ready. You were ready since the moment you saw his eyes at the party. At first, it got you a little scared. But deep inside of you you wanted Bucky to be exactly there – deep inside of you.

He lowered himself just a few centimeters from your face. He was staring at your eyes. His right hand grabbed his dick. You felt Bucky’s head at your entrance. You sighed. You wanted it inside so badly.

“You still want it?” He asked as if you had the choice to say no.

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned. “Please.”

“You sure?” He was teasing you once again.

“Please, Daddy.”

“This worked only once.” Bucky was playing with you as his head was rubbing against your labia up and down.

It was driving you crazy. His dick was so close, yet so far away. At your pussy but not inside of it. “Please, Daddy!” You literally screamed. You moaned, you sighed. Your body was squirming from the excitement. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed Bucky inside of you.

He smirked. He loved the way he owned you. And they way you were going crazy for his dick. He leaned down to your ear. “Brace yourself.”

He barely finished his sentence when he pushed his dick inside of you. You sighed loudly. He felt so good. And he put his full length in. You took a sharp breath. He was so big. “Fuck!” You screamed. You barely took him down there as well.

“Oh, babe.” Bucky said as he once again grabbed your jaw. He put his lips next to your ear. “You’re so tight.” He whispered.

Bucky started thrusting inside of you gently as he slowly picked up the pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” He exclaimed.

You were slowly going towards what he had promised – screaming. Bucky deafened it with a kiss. But soon after he broke it. He needed to sigh as well. Your little hole was driving him crazy.

“Oh, god! You’re so tight!” Bucky screamed once more.

“Yes, Daddy!” Suddenly you screamed uncontrollably.

Bucky felt so good. You never even thought your pussy could go to such levels of pleasure. You were ripping the sheets with your nails.

His thrusting was hard and fast. You could feel his balls slamming on your ass. Your sighing was out of control. You were certain your screaming must have awoken everybody but you didn’t care. Bucky’s dick was blessing your pussy. The feeling was getting better and better. Stronger and stronger. Aimless nerve impulses were sent from nowhere to nowhere all over your body. Bucky’s metal arm clenched around your jaw excited you even more. And his sighing in your ear was driving you crazy.

“Fuck!” Bucky exclaimed again. “That little hole of yours…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“Daddy…” You sighed. “I’m going to cum, Daddy.” Your whole body was so excited from the game that it took you no time to orgasm.

Bucky sighed as he grabbed your jaw even stronger. “Come one, baby! Cum!” He said as he started fucking you even harder. “Come on. Cum hard! I’m right behind you.”

You almost blacked out. You were screaming uncontrollably. Your body was convulsing. You closed your eyes, you felt dizzy. You tore the sheets. Your pussy pulsated in what you thought to be the most wonderful orgasm in your life. It was so strong that your breathing literally stopped for a few seconds. The sweet sensation of pleasure exploded between your legs and moved throughout your entire body. There wasn’t a single cell that wasn’t satisfied.

When the orgasm passed you felt Bucky taking his dick out. He started jerking it off and a second later you felt his warm cum all over your tummy and breasts. He loudly sighed as well. It was over.

You were still breathing heavily looking at the ceiling. Your heartbeat was still far away from restored. Every muscle of your body had lost its strength. You literally couldn’t move. The orgasm was so spectacular that for a moment you even forgot who you were.

“Oh, Daddy.” A quiet sound came out of your mouth.

Bucky leaned over you. He gently kissed the side of your forehead. “I told you you were going to love it.” He whispered in your ear.

You sensed Bucky getting up. You heard him putting on his clothes. You didn’t want him to go but you couldn’t neither move, nor talk. Instead, you saw him getting on the bed again upon you. This time fully dressed.

Bucky lowered himself and lied next to you. His metal arm clenched around your jaw once again. This time even harder. You whimpered and closed your eyes, the pain was really strong.

You heard Bucky’s voice next to your ear. This time sounding more firm and possessive. “I hope you had your little fun. Because next time I’m not going that easy on you.”

You gasped.

“I’ll eat you up.” Bucky continued. “And you will feel what your Daddy is all about.” With every sentence his metal arm was squeezing harder and harder. “And you can’t do anything about it because you’re mine. I own you. I own your body.”

Before he managed to finish the sentence you did it for him. “And you can do anything you want with it.” You whispered with your final strength.

Bucky smirked. “That’s a good girl.” He knew he had you. He knew he owned you.

After those words Bucky got up and walked out of the room without even looking back at you. The predator had its prey. It was time to step away. He closed the door on the outside leaving you naked, dizzy, with a pulsating jaw and a fully satisfied body that was covered with his creamy cum.

You sighed. There was nothing more you could do except wait for his next hunt.

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