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psychedelic-ink · 14 days

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tess servopoulos

genre: smut, modern au, minors dni

word count: 2k

summary: you're new to town and tess invites you to go camping with her and joel.

warnings: fmf, threesome, flf dynamics, reader being eaten out for the first time, dirty talk, oral s.ex, cum eating/play, for the sake of this fic let's just imagine they have a very big tent they can actually stand in lmaodfb, things escalate quickly but honestly I just wanted to write some good old smut

a/n: this wasn't originally intended for the amazing @undercoverpena's april showers challenge BUT since I had already written the rain aspect of the fic I thought it would be nice to post this for it 💜

prompt: both/all parties get caught in the rain.

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

Breathing is hard. Walking is hard. Carrying the weight of your backpack is hard.

But, the fresh air, the white clouds above, and the two people you’re with make up for it.

Stopping briefly, you roll your shoulders and stretch, neither of them notice you. Not really. You figure it’s not really important if they do or don’t, it’s not like they’re that much ahead of you, catching up wouldn’t be difficult. You watch them, you must admit, a bit dreamily as they walk the bath they’re clearly so used to walking. You’re still surprised that the seasoned hikers invited you to a camping trip. Tess was the one to approach, she knew you were new and how overwhelming it’s been getting used to the people and the sights. She told you she and Joel would be going on a trip soon and that you should join. And even though your answer had been an eager yes, you were worried about holding them back. Admittedly, you weren’t the most fit and haven’t hiked anywhere in years.

However, your excitement to spend time with not one but both of them had tipped the scale rather harshly. You’ve been harboring a secret crush on both of them, it was hard not to when both of them were charming and witty.

Now, as you walk behind them, you can't help but steal glances at the way Tess effortlessly navigates the trail, her hair swaying with each step. Joel walks beside her, occasionally pointing out interesting plants or landmarks, his backpack seeming almost weightless on his shoulders.

You catch yourself smiling as you imagine what adventures lie ahead on this trip.

You decide to pick up your pace, closing the gap between you and them. As you draw nearer, Tess glances back, her eyes brightening with a genuine smile as she sees you catching up.

"How's the hike treating you?"

You catch your breath and reply, "It's challenging, but I'm enjoying every moment of it."

Joel turns around with a friendly grin. "Glad to hear that. We've got a great spot picked out for camping tonight."

As the three of you continue forward, you feel a surge of excitement. Your legs might be aching, but you can't wait to see where the day takes you all.

Rain.

At first, you thought you were unlucky. You had dreamed of campfire, smores and snuggling underneath the starlight, but with the first lightning strike and drop of water, you thought the two would be agitated, annoyed by the bad weather.

But to your surprise, as the rain began to fall in earnest after setting the tent, Tess and Joel didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, they laughed and exchanged playful looks as they turned their heads up to the sky. Their infectious joy caught you off guard, and despite the downpour, you found yourself smiling too.

Then, unexpectedly, Joel's arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. A rush of warmth floods through you as his lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, Tess leans in, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. The moment is electrifying, filled with a blend of desire and affection.

Before you know it, Tess and Joel are gently guiding you towards the tent they had set up earlier. The rain continues to pour around you, but inside the cozy confines of the tent, a different kind of heat ignites.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel cups both your breasts tenderly from underneath, the wet fabric dampening his skin. You feel Tess’s eyes on your back, observing, taking in the details of the scene before her. Meanwhile, Joel’s gaze is glued to your pebbled nipples, he slowly drags his thumbs over them, your breath catching in your throat. “Does that feel good?”

“It does,” your eyelids flutter, he repeats the movement, drawing circles this time. His eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“So fucked out already,” he hums. “Our pretty little girl, so shy and hungry.”

Tess stands from where she is sitting and circles her arms around your waist, fingers digging into your stomach, she pulls you flush against her. Your stomach bottoms out as you feel the plump flesh of her breasts against your back. Your lips part, you want to kiss her.

You want to kiss her.

You turn your head, chasing her lips with yours, before your eyes close, you see the mischievous curl of her lips. She pulls away and smiles even wider when you whine. “You’re so easy to tease.”

Opening your eyes, you swallow, your body arches when Joel sneaks both hands under your shirt, lifting the fabric, goosebumps raise all over your skin. “Is that a bad thing?” you ask her, voice slightly shaking.

“Not at all princess,” she drags her lips down your neck. “It just makes it even more amusing.”

Your reply gets stuck in your throat as Joel dips down and sucks one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. He tightly closes his lips around the nub and flicks it with his tongue. Your body jolts, pleasure running through you like the lighting outside. Your head falls over Tess’s shoulder, she lays open-mouthed kisses over your neck, her hands unbuttoning your pants.

“You want him to eat you out?” she breathes into your skin and without looking at either of them you nod. “Have you ever had your pussy eaten out, princess?”

You lick your lips, “No,” you say half ashamed, and swallow. “This’ll be my first time.”

Joel’s tongue stills on your skin and suddenly two hungry eyes come into your view. If you didn’t know better you’d say he looks pissed off. Never breaking eye contact, he continues what Tess started and pushes down your pants along with your underwear, leaving you bare to the chill of the tent. He pushes two fingers between your folds and starts stroking you, you shudder against both of them, and your breath hitches.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he says. “Beg me for it.”

“Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Oh sweetheart, I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for that. Do better.”

You let out a small gasp as he grips your chin, squeezing lightly. To provide comfort, Tess kisses the back of your neck, however, you can feel her smiling into your skin.

“Please,” you say again. “I want you to make me come, Joel. I want to feel your tongue—I want you to be my first—”

Your lips part for another incoming beg but he’s already sinking to his knees, large hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs. A shudder rolls up your spine. Tess’s hands replace Joel’s, kneading your breasts softly.

His hands finally come between your thighs, gently nudging them so you open wider. You see a flicker of a smile when you do, amused, he drags two fingers between your folds. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.”

“She’s not the only one,” Tess chuckles. “Now get on with it, Miller. I’m impatient.”

He clicks his tongue without retaliating further. You feel the warmth of his breath on your core, and slowly, he presses his lips over your mound, the scratch of his beard making it an exquisite experience. You moan at the touch of his tongue, it moves slowly, circling your clit and going deeper. His nails bite into your skin, the sounds he makes between your legs are downright sinful. Your legs begin to shake.

“Shh it’s okay,” Tess whispers against your cheek. “Just give him a taste and we’ll lay you down, princess. I know you can do it.”

Joel grunts in approval, the timber of the sound making you whimper. His hands slide up to your ass and he squeezes the mounds roughly, pushing you further against his mouth. He licks and sucks, when you feel the bite of his nails against your skin, you finally come undone.

Your knees threaten to give out under you, the only thing holding you upright being the two stunning people consuming you. Tess smiles against your skin, kissing and licking the salt of your skin. Meanwhile, Joel moans rather loudly, licking everything you have to offer as you come, come and come some more. You’ve never felt anything this intense before. The air is knocked from your lungs, your body ice cold yet burning up at the same time.

You’re vaguely aware of Joel standing, the man who was worshipping you between your legs suddenly towering over you. He has a small smile as he leans in, you think he’s going to kiss the slope of your shoulder first but then you hear the soft sounds of two lips coming together. With the corner of your eyes, you see them. Tess and Joel kissing, their tongues sliding into each other's mouth, sharing your taste—

“Fuck,” you whisper, your cunt throbbing. They both smile, lips curving in an almost malicious way. As they break apart, Tess licks Joel’s lips, her eyes find yours.

“Someone’s still hungry for more,” she teases, slowly stripping. “Get on all fours for us, princess.”

You swallow and do as she says. You feel Joel’s large hands cup the mounds of your ass, squeezing tenderly. “Beautiful,” he rasps. “Such a goddamn sight.”

Your back arches into his touch. He drags two thick fingers between your folds as Tess lays down, spreading her legs. Your eyes immediately drop to her center, the soft hair that crowns her pretty pussy. You see her glisten with want and your mouth waters.

“Don’t be shy now,” she smiles. “Have a taste.”

Her fingers curl around the back of your neck and at the same time, you feel the head of Joel’s cock stretching you wide. Your eyes roll as you part your lips, Tess moans loudly when your tongue swirls around her puffy clit. You can’t think straight. Joel buries himself deep holding himself there for a second before pulling back and slamming forward. Your moan into Tess’s cunt, your lips parting away briefly every he pulls himself back.

“Best cunt I’ve ever had,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “How does it feel sweetheart? You enjoyin’ yourself?”

You flatten your tongue against Tess’s folds and moan, your body clenching.

“She is,” Tess answers on your behalf, breathless. “Such a sweet girl letting us use her like this.”

Your eyes close tightly shut, sweat drips down your spine, your body a vessel of pleasure. Every muscle in your body tightens, and you hear both of them groan. You close your lips around Tess’s clit and flick your tongue, her head falls, gushing into your mouth. Joel’s watches intently, his cock pulsing and throbbing, his hand comes against the back of your head and he pushes you further down.

“Good girl,” he growls, the pace of his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Fuck, that’s it, lick her clean.”

Tess moans again, the loud sounds becoming whimpers. You can barely breathe but you don’t care. With one final thrusts you come undone around Joel’s cock, your body squeezing him like a vice.

When the violent shudders of your body become gentle waves, Joel pulls out. Your head falls limply against Tess’s stomach, her hand gently rubbing your neck. A soft gasp leaves you when you see Joel shuffling closer, his cock still hard and glistening. You watch as he strokes himself only mere inches away from your face, the head of his cock an angry shade of red.

You stick out your tongue as he spills himself over your face and Tess’s stomach. Another pulse of pleasure spreads throughout your body. Tess let’s out a deep sigh, gathering some of the come with her fingers, she pushes them between your lips.

“Fuck,” Joel sighs, sitting back on his heels. A small smile forms against your lips as you suck on Tess’s fingers, when she pulls them out, you dip your tongue into the mess over her stomach and swallow every drop.

“Filthy girl,” Tess muses. “And here I’ve been callin’ you princess.”

“Your fault,” you mumble, looking away, your cheeks burn.

Joel leans in, capturing your lips before whispering.

“Don’t pout. You’ll always be our princess.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader x tess #tess servopoulos x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel x reader x tess #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge

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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months

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BTS fic recs: my 30th birthday special

Shit. I’m turning 30 today (I still feel like I’m 18 lol) 😯 So I wanted to make this special recommendation list for you, as a birthday present from me 💜 This includes some of my all time favorites (no, I’ll never stop screaming about those!!!!) and also, some good old ones that I’ve never gotten around to rec at the time.

I also have another birthday present for you (wish is also why I didn’t finish my reading list and why ‘Friendcation’ is on pause until after my birthday). I wrote a short one-shot, so if you’re in the mood for that, check it out → ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’ [reader x jjk (ft. pjm)].

I actually didn’t get to finish my reading list for this special rec list, so I’ll add the rest of my recommendations as I read them (I’ll specify which I haven’t re-read yet) and the rest will be posted to this month’s regular rec list.

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (💜) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.

Namjoon

⭐All Night by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵

📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.

🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯

⭐All Aboard! (the passion express) by @ve1vetyoongi // knj x f.reader // office worker!namjoon // 🥵

📝 There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

🗨️ Holy fuck, fuck, fuck this was so incredibly filthy (in the best way possible) 🥵 the tension between reader and Namjoon was perfect, the build up was so satisfying 🌟 what’s not to like ✨😍

⭐The Wedding Arrangement by @sugaurora // knj x f.reader // ‘enemies’ to friends to lovers, wedding!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Unfortunately, he’s just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgmental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

🗨️ This was so amazing 🥹 the characters had so much depth and ugh! It was just so, so good. It was a pleasure reading their love unfolding 🥰 aish, I’m soft! It’s filled with plenty of soft, slight heartbreaking angst at times, but oh so fluffy and smutty too! It was perfect 👌🏾 💯 please don’t sleep on this one, okay? 🥹

Yoongi

⭐Roommates by @automnesleaves [AO3] [119K] // myg x f.reader // roommates!au, covid!au, slice of life // 😂🥰🌩️

📝 February 2020: Your best friend Jimin’s roommate recommendation, IT guy Yoongi Min, moves in with you. March 2020: Covid Lockdown.

🗨️ This is really, really good! I remember being so hooked on this, that I stayed up multiple nights to finish chapters. It was hard to put down, and so interesting to read how readers luck slowly turned – also, the dynamic between reader and Yoongi is great and there’s just so much lovely slice of life in it 💜

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] by @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ Yes. This is here again. It is one of my all-time favorites and I will not stop screaming about how fucking good this is! You just have to join the 3tan party or you are severely missing out, Doll. 💖✨

⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨

Hoseok

⭐Fate Doesn’t Exist by @whenIseeUsmile [AO3] [47K] // jhs x myg (mxm) // pilot!au, formula1!au // 😂🌩️

📝 Yoongi is a pilot. Hoseok is a Formula 1 driver. Jungkook's a fanboy and Jimin is oblivious.

Yoongi hates people but likes one-night-stands. One in particular but he doesn't like the fact that he's famous. He really shouldn't get involved with Hoseok. He does it anyways.

🗨️ I’ve read this multiple times! And it will forever be one of my favorites! I just love how their personality compliments each other, and how they keep meeting each other (also can’t stay away from each other). Plus, the side couples, both Jungkook x Jimin and Namjoon x Seokjin are just fucking hilarious – everything about this is golden, so if you’re into mxm it’s a really good read! 👏

⭐Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Since We Met by @inkjam-moon [9.2K] // pjm x f.reader // roommate!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Your in love with your roommate, so you think maybe trying to date someone else will help you get over him, but when your roommate shows signs of jealousy, you begin to wonder; could he like you back?

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Beneath the Water by @jungshookz // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?

🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).

⭐Make Me by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.

🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵

⭐Pay Attention by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰

📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨

Jungkook

⭐The Wedding Planners by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Secret Slut (1) by @jeonsweetpea [7.7K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. pjm) // office!au, pa!jungkook x ceo!reader // 😂🌩️🥵

📝 Jungkook accidentally gifts you, his boss, a sex toy for Secret Santa.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago and now I see that there’s even a part two to it, that I haven’t read! This one is really funny, like straight up hilarious – really made me laugh at times and then it got so freaking smutty 🥵 Really good!

⭐Secret Slut (2) by @jeonsweetpea [18.1K] // jjk x f.reader + pjm x f. reader // office!au, pa!jungkook, pa!jimin, ceo!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 After being fired, Jungkook finds himself a new job only to realize he misses you too much. He comes back to discover you’ve hired a new personal assistant, Jimin. You offer him the only job position available, which was being the assistant’s assistant. Being demoted results in Jungkook feeling inadequate and he soon learns what it means to be jealous.

🗨️ I was so speechless after reading the last part of the series, like 🥵🥵🥵🥵 There’s so much smut in this, you’re like swimming in it, lol! And then something happens, that I won’t spoil because I actually didn’t expect that to happen (even though I should have seen it coming, because the build-up was there). So, a really good read!

⭐Departure by @nomnomsik [6.2K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. jimin) // pilot!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰

📝 As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Something Like Love by @iamtaekooked [8.4K] // jjk x f.reader // cop!au, police office!au // 🥰

📝 It was meant to be a regular day at the hospital. That is until you get kidnapped in broad daylight. Meanwhile, the famous detective Jeon Jeongguk who also happens to be your best friend, just wanted a normal day free of world’s bullshit, but he couldn’t even have that.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] by @oddinary4bts // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 you’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfect and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎

⭐Two point Five (2.5): pt2 + pt3 [series] by @bratkook // jjk x f.reader // handyman!jk, s2f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

🗨️ This is also one of my all time favorites! 💎There is just something incredibly hot about handyman JK 🥵 It is so good, juicy, smutty and there's comedy in it too! Please don’t be sleeping on this one.

Okay, okay, okay. So the list got out of hand! And I know I say “this is in my top 10” but I can’t even pick my top 10 because I have waaaay too many favorites 😂

I hope you have an awesome day, are happy and stay healthy! I’ll go and enjoy my birthday with a chill day, birthday dinner with my family, probably some reading and watching the finale of Loki 🥳 🎂 Thank you so much for liking, commenting or reblogging my rec lists, it means a lot to me – remember to reblog, comment and/or like the fics you like on the list to the the lovely authors know you love their stuff 💜

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chronically-ghosted · 5 days

Text

vivarium

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: ezra x f!reader word count: 8K summary: you request a vacation for your birthday. With the rain and a few drinks, you get a lot more than you asked for. warnings: alcohol drinking, minor age gap (less than 10 years), oral (f!receiving), fingering, smut, possessive!Ezra, dom!Ezra, one booty smack, dirty talk for real, smut, pining, a bit of angst, referenced/implied orphanhood, made a religious sex pun and i'm so proud of myself a/n: so @morallyinept requested this and it turns out when I write for a boy for the first time, it can’t be less than 7K – whoops. i've gotten ezra requests from some moots before, so i hope this lives up to your expectations! **massive thanks to @toomanytookas for editing and providing the initial validation so i don't post in a mouth-frothy haze. I've never had a beta like you before and I genuinely feel like I've turned over a new chapter in my fic writing. thank you!

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Ezra Masterlist 🤍 AO3 Link

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Your feet in the clear blue water, the humidity like a wet tongue on your skin, you scratch a nail under the tab of a mustard yellow can, crack it open, and drink. The bite of alcohol dulled by the carbonation, you take several pulls, drawing out the mid-afternoon buzz from two other cans and whetting your mouth in the heat of the jungle day. You lean back on your elbows into the sponge-soft grass, and let out a massive sigh.

A few feet ahead of you, on a repurposed inflatable reentry tube, your long-time privateer partner chuckles, the sound deep in the back of his throat as he floats by. Thick fingers and exposed heels dragging along in the crystal water, he greets the yellow sun like an old friend – arms wide, chest out, a lazy smile on his face. A damp rag – supposedly clean – sits over what you know to be dark-earth eyes, every other inch of him relishing in the inevitable sun tan.

“I see your aaahhh, pet, and I raise you a mhmm.” The rubber squeaks as he adjusts, tips his scarred chin up to the cloudless sky and rests his head back. “Kevva said there’d be days like this, but I think the old hag mighta left out a thing or two.”

You grin, the wet heat of Banu 8’s lowlands drawing sweat droplets onto your hairline at the back of your neck, settling thick behind your ears where it co-mingles with the drunk haze loping around in your brain. You watch Ezra with his bare arms, hairy legs, and prominent nose turned towards the divinity he’s so fond of invoking and the thought crosses your mind – again:

Shit, he’s so fucking hot.

Oh, bad thought.

You drop your gaze, pressing the cold aluminum lip of the can to your mouth, drinking quicker than you probably should, anything to distract you from your partner as he obliviously floats by.

For our sake, you silently beg the hungry little creature that whines and snaps at the image of a shirtless Ezra, please fuck off.

While Ezra whistles a vaguely familiar tune, terribly off-key, you scoop up the cool lagoon water and dribble it over your hot knees, then your thighs, dampening the rims of your make-shift shorts just enough to cool them without leaving them vulnerable to a permanent state of moisture due to the high humidity. You flick the last drops of the water onto your chest, your white cotton bra choked to your skin. A final effect, you press the cool can to the thrumming pulse on your neck, closing your eyes with a relieved grunt, taking the time to enjoy the sensation of the cold metal against the rapid beat in your throat.

From the water, you hear an unsettled grunt and you open your eyes to find that same shirtless Ezra staring at you, the rag now curled in one hand against the rubber float. He swallows, looks at something past your ear, and again tries to adjust in the sticky rubber float without flipping himself over, his hands falling into his lap.

“Neptune, dear, would you do us the favor of tossing over one of those cans? I’m parched. I think my lovely skin is drying out.”

Neptune. His favorite nickname for you. You never got any real explanation from him as to why you got that name, other than after you’d officially joined his crew, you told him you came from a blue planet in a far off system. But that was often the way of things: Ezra did something and you didn’t question why. From that simple truth, you learned about how to repair and rebuild the entire electrical system from a drop pod. You learned, in excruciating detail, the parts and mechanics of a thrower, so much so that you could almost identify the model number at a glance. You learned about which corporate dig sites to avoid, which made for easy marks, and which would draw the eye and ire of entities hardly worth the trouble.

Being out on your own since you aged up out of the orphanage had not gone the way you hoped and life had not been so kind as to teach you any other way to survive. Ezra had found you in the back of a red spice market, cornered and slurping down the last few of your credits from a muck bowl that you had vastly overpaid for.

For whatever reason, he offered you a job on the spot, despite you having nothing to offer him. and no experience in anything except cleaning prophylaxiams and staying out of the way.

And yet, he has been far kinder than life, or anyone else, had ever been to you.

As a result, loyalty was only a fraction of what you felt for him. What had begun as overwhelming adoration had grown hot to the touch, slippery between your fingers at night, and perhaps – what you feared most of all – obvious.

Yet when Ezra looked at you with a smile on his face, it was only comradery he wished to share with you, certainly not his bed. He shared it with practically every other bi-pedal humanoid you came across, but not you. And this you had to accept. And you did.

But being a little drunk made it that much harder to remember where to keep your hands to avoid being burned.

“Sure, Ez.” You tuck your legs out from the cool water and dig around in the canvas bag at the base of the white nut tree. Most of the ice had melted into the bright green grass around the lagoon, but a few of the cans were still cold. You’d probably tease Ezra later for skimping on the insulation bucket the provisions store the port offered, but he had been so eager to get to the camp ground after spending an “exceedingly exorbitant amount of time stacked up against human drivel on public transportation”. One lopsided grin, and you’d give him the world.

“Ez–,”

He lifts the rag, glancing at you over his shoulder, hands cupped as the can flies through the air. The cold metal presses against the overheated skin on his chest and he hisses. Eyeing the can ruefully, he cracks it open and drinks deep. You busy yourself with sliding to the edge of the pool again to keep from watching his throat move.

Ezra finally pulls back, smacking his lips, with a pleased groan. He wets the rag again and dramatically flops it over his eyes. Hidden from his view, you watch the roll of water down his temples, his neck, his chest.

“Name anything better than this, Neptune, I beg you. Free from obligation or assignment on commission. Where my only moral imperative is to drink as many of these as I can and remind you how beautiful you are. Which . . .” he tilts the bottom of the can towards you, head still tilted back on the raft and dripping rag covering his vision, “fantastic, by the way.”

Having stifled your blush while under his watchful gaze about three or four other times today, without him looking, you flush so hard and fast you go lightheaded. Beautiful, he said. You drink more carbonated alcohol to choke back your rising heart, your eyes skim over the curve of his nose, a drop of sweat as it peaks on his forehead. You can’t linger over him too long; he has a six-sense about you – unable to know what you’re thinking but that you’re overthinking all the same.

“Was this worth the trip on public transportation, Ez?” Your ankles stir the water again.

“I could do this all day,” he sighs contently, bringing a warm smile to your face. “And definitely all night.”

Maybe you’ll both be so sun-drunk later tonight, you’ll fall asleep together on the pallet on the floor. Of course, by nightfall, someone will have to come to their senses and you’ll be tucked back into your separate sleeping bags, but maybe, as a present you couldn’t possibly ask for, you can just nap together.

With the bottom plush of your lip stuck between your teeth, you rim the metallic edge of your can with your nail, ankles spinning slow circles in the water.

“Thank you, Ezra,” you say quietly, “for the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

It began as a sort of joke one night on the volcanic hotspring moon of Wulkan after a twelve hour shift hunting through the black ash in search of fire pearls. The job was rather rushed, and Ezra had his reservations going into it, but fire pearls were a near certainty and you both needed a boost after a jump exchange had gone a little cockeyed. Sweat dripping from his temples, the provided water packs in the harvest suits doing just enough to keep him from passing out from heat exhaustion, he extended the skein of hydro-electric towards you across the narrow lane between your cots and asked you if you could be anywhere right now, any system, where would you be.

“Somewhere so cold I freeze my tits clean off,” you said with a sigh and wiped your own sweat-drenched forehead. You could smell yourself after two days of sweating profusely, but your stench in comparison to the rest of the crew, including Ezra, barely registered any more. You took a sip as Ezra laughed.

“A grievous crime against humanity and all its luscious gifts, but I get your meaning. Anywhere else?”

“Water.” This was said with more conviction, so much so it turned Ezra’s head towards you. “The few memories I have of my home planet and my parents, we were always near or in water. An ocean, maybe. I’m not sure. But I remember being really, really happy and I think being near water . . . it would make me happy again.”

You handed the skein back to Ezra, something unreadable in his gaze. He took it back from you, his fingers dark from the ash that clings to everything. On the other side of the tent, the rest of your crew and other teams mill about, yelling, with cutlery clattering as the camp gets ready to slow for the night, a graveyard shift picking up in just a few hours.

Ezra’s eyes are as dark as the ash you’ve been shifting through the past two days.

“Then you shall have it, Neptune.” He said, quietly. “I’d give you the fucking galaxy if I could.”

Those words often came to you in the crevice between sleep and wakefulness, when your mind was idle and the reins that tightly bound your affection for him loosened without a conscious grip. When you thought you weren’t being watched.

The flat of his foot hooking behind your ankle breaks you from your reverie. Cast into shadow by the wide, rubbery palm leaves above your head, he looks at you curiously.

“That look of deep consternation is giving me a headache. Spill.”

With a faint smile, you gently bump his knee with your own. “Nothing, Ez. I’m just glad we get to take a break from it all. I can’t remember the last time I . . . the last time we’ve just had nothing to do.”

He cocks his head as his gaze crawls up your ankle, your shin, to your knee. You think it might linger on your thigh before it bounces to your face. You tighten your grip on the hot, expansive feeling behind your ribs and stare back at him.

“Then that’s a black mark against me, as the leader of this clan.” His mouth curls, eyebrow arching as he talks, knowing that statement has been a point of playful contention between you two for years. “A good overseer knows when to crack the bullwhip and when to let it rest.”

“Well, a better overseer knows when to demand that her team rests, because sometimes they have no idea what’s good for them.”

His foot rotates behind your ankle, his toes brushing against your calf, bringing your attention to your own body part in the water. Your legs are hairy, nearly as much as Ezra’s, and you haven’t shaved your pits in possibly a decade. Ezra once brought home a professional nightwalker, one from the Upper City, to the derelict flat you’d been sharing for two weeks as you offloaded your haul to the under markets. You never forgot how smooth her skin had been, shaved clean and smelling of moon lilies. That scent permeated the small space for weeks afterward. Even now, just the sight of moon lilies makes you nauseous.

His aversion to you runs much deeper than physical aesthetics, even if you can’t help but wonder sometimes if becoming as smooth and hairless as the nightwalker might change his mind.

“Observational to a fault as always, Neptune.” The ball of his foot rests briefly between your legs before he pushes off from the spongy lip of the lagoon’s edge. He floats back into the sun, his head shaking slightly, a smile drained of amusement on his lips. He inhales as the sun crests over his forehead and he glances up at the blue sky. “I have no idea what’s good for me.”

Something about his tone, the way he turns away from you, scratches a very raw place inside of you – a place that fears and obsesses over abandonment. You wouldn’t survive it if he abandoned you, if he left you to fend for yourself one day. Logically, you know he would never do that – he has sworn up and down to your face that that notion is fundamentally ludicrous to him – but the anguish of him silently rejecting you from his bed again and again and again makes that fragile place inside you bleed red.

You stand up, swipe another can from the bag, and move towards the waterfall.

“I’m taking a hike.”

You feel his eyes on the backs of your thighs as you march towards the gentle incline.

“Be safe, Neptune,” he calls softly.

For a fleeting second, you wish he had made you stay.

The first fat raindrop splashes against your cheek and wakes you from a humid, irritated nap. You’re scowling by the time you open your eyes to several more wet droplets as they splatter against your neck, your forehead and you sit up, even more frustrated than when you fell asleep. The last sticky tendrils of dreams snap and pop as you pull yourself onto your feet, back hunched and arm held high against the steamy sprinkle. A crack of lightning, then a growl of thunder, and the sky splits open, drenching you in seconds. With a snarl of your own, you snatch up the empty can from the grass next to you and make for your camp down the hill. As you crest the top, you see a figure standing outside the tent, back tense and hand raised as if searching through the twilight gray downpour.

Normally, the thought of warming up beside Ezra in your yellow tent fills you with something inexplicable, the grime and load of the day melting from your shoulders, but your buzz from earlier has thickened, made worse by the heat, the emotions in your heart all gummed up and smashed together. The sight of him cranks up your irritation high in your ears. With a huff, you concentrate on a smooth slide down the hill without breaking your ankles and not the fire rising in your gut.

But the rain and the distance apart has only stoked his own outrage.

“Where the hell were you?” He snaps as you yank back the velcroed tent flap. He is dripping from head to toe in jungle rain as he follows closely behind you into your small space. You ring the water from your hair into a corner and scowl up at him.

“I fell asleep. The rain woke me up. I came back as soon as I could.”

His eyes narrow, water rolling off his bare shoulders as if he still stood out in the downpour. The droplets pat pat pat against the tarp floor as he snatches up a fiber towel and dries himself off, scowling all the while.

“I searched for you, calling your name up and down this fuckin’ jungle and I didn’t hear a peep. What if something had gone wrong? What if you’d been hurt?”

“Then I would have fucking dealt with it, Ezra.” You stomp to your feet, neck hot from his patronizing gaze. Hands on his hips, you feel like you’re being scolded. “I can take care of myself.”

One dark eyebrow arches mockingly, the scar on his cheek twisting in his scowl.

“And you expect me to lay about, twiddling my thumbs, while I wait for you to return or until you deem it appropriate for me to fret over your corpse?”

That patch of blonde hair is a shade darker, drenched and pressed flat against his forehead. His bare chest is littered with scars and divots where chunks of flesh had been torn away. His skin is a reflection of the hard life he lives. You doubt you’d look any different if you’d seen yourself in a mirror.

“We are partners, Ez,” you grind out between locked teeth. “Equals, alright? I am not your little sister for you to fuss over and you are not my keeper.”

At that, the indignant swell of his chest deflates and the anger in his eyes flickers before fading out.

“You are beyond capture,” he mutters, eyebrows down but gaze distant. “I’d never dream of keeping you, Neptune.”

Again, it’s his phrasing that hurts most of all. You glance away, the backs of your eyes growing hot and tight, drying out despite the sticky moisture warming the inside of the tent. But then his hand around your elbow startles away the tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“You are the most important thing to me in the entirety of this world and the next,” he says softly, earth eyes searching your face. “I came on too strong, I know that, but the idea that you’d ever be gone from my side for any amount of permanence . . . well, it’s been a lifetime since I’ve felt fear like that.”

His frown goes belly-up, a hopeless smile on his face. “I wasn’t aware I even still could.” His calloused thumb brushes your skin, skin that nearly catches fire from the rough drag of scar tissue, before he lets his hand drop. Your own curls into a fist at your side, a tremor rattling the bones of your wrist in an effort to keep from reaching up and touching that moon-shaped scar you dream about at night.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ez. You taught me enough to survive in a world like this. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

That smile goes wan, sickly. “That’s the problem, dear heart, I trust you with my life.”

He swallows, as if suddenly bashful to make direct eye contact with you. He clears his throat before rummaging around in his canvas bag for dry clothes. He yanks a black, sleeveless shirt on over his head before setting up the materials for a flameless pocket fire.

“Since my dreams of showing you something called a barbeque have been quite literally rained out, we’ll finish off the rest of the dredge pack tonight. But come first light, I’ll fix you breakfast so succulent, the smell alone’ll make your mouth water. How does that sound, Neptune?”

He barely slows to breathe as he seamlessly switches topics from breakfast to another meal made at camp without looking up or stalling in his prep for dinner, hands almost disconnected from the humming of his mouth – one so methodical, the other like a channel rat on fire.

“– and the thing was no one was really sure enough what a squatter egg looked like when it goes bad. But being out in a cramped hold-out for two weeks where it was so dark, your own ass and someone else’s had no demarcation, well, there wasn’t a single peep of dissimilitude . . .”

Words strung together so quick and so melodic, it was always incredibly easy to fall into a sort of easy trance around Ezra. Sounds and syllables just sounded right coming out of his mouth and after a while, that trance became a state of repose, Ezra’s own sense of calm filtered to whoever was also in the room. But not to you, not right now.

After spending immeasurable time with less than half a space between you in cramped tents and in claustrophobic dig sites, you could read the tension on the lines of his body as well as the lines on the palm of your hand.

“Neptune? You with me?”

Ezra glances up at you, always aware of you and your movements like the twinge on a spider’s web, a signature smile that has always seemed to shine a bit brighter for you plastered over his face. The anger was the only thing holding you up and with it gone, you can feel your bruised heart twinge as it folds over itself.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna switch out of these wet clothes before we eat, okay?”

He hums, nodding, eyes fixating on the steadily boiling water in front of him as you turn away to the other side of the tent, by your pallet and traveler’s pack. As further evidence that he feels nothing but companionship for you, you feel his eyes remain nowhere near you as you strip off your shorts and bra for a sun-warm suit. Then again, you’d like to think it’s kind of scandalous to be changing in front of him, but you’d both seen each other naked more times than you could count – there is no modesty in foxholes. The space between your hips and your thighs feel sticky from sweat and the slick rain, the curve of your spine warm and flushed. The zipper is loud in the silence.

You’re braiding your damp hair away from your face when he sighs and the noise makes you look back at him.

“Answer me honestly, if you’ve ever cared for me a tick. Do you regret it?”

His eyes are sorrowful, worried, brow fixed down. Ezra is not, and never has been, a man prone to melancholy. His wrists rest loosely over his knees, gaze deep in the bubbling bone broth. The rain outside taps insistently at the tarp.

“Regret what?”

“Coming with me and taking on this life. It’s not an easy one,” he says quietly. “I should have offered you another choice, that day in the market. But one look at you and I . . . I was willing to trust you with my life, Neptune – far, far too soon. Even at my best, you make me irrational.”

You watch him, his broad shoulders moving, as he scoops up the hot, dark liquid into two bowls, and joins you by the entrance to the tent. You pin back the flap as he settles, the scent of humid rain immediately flooding your mouth, the pattering sound now twice as loud. Wordlessly, he hands you a spoon before digging into his own bowl.

The heat of the soup burns away all the silly, impossible things sitting on your tongue. You sit in silence, his presence never rushing you to answer before you are ready. As you eat, you stare out at the dark lagoon, where you had both been only hours ago, the clear water murky beneath the downpour.

“No, Ezra, I don’t regret it.” He stills, as if surprised you’re answering him now, mid-meal. He lowers the bowl to his lap, eyes trained on you. “You saved my life, more times than I can count.”

Your words loosen the rigid lock of his shoulders. He grins. “As you’ve said, you would have been just fine without me.”

Your vision goes blurry. You pin him with such a stare, you watch the blood rush from his face.

“But it would have been only half a life.”

“Don’t kid about that, Neptune, it’s not –,”

“I’m serious.” You put your bowl down and rub your eyes with your sleeves. Of all the ways he hasd seen you bare and naked, he’s never seen you this vulnerable. “I don’t wanna do any of this without you. I want you, Ezra.”

“You have me, dear heart, you have me.”

“Not like that and you know it.” You watch as understanding rolls across his face. His lips part, eyes wider. He swallows and you stare at the ceiling, cheeks suddenly wet and hot. He said he’d never leave you, but what if this is the thing that finally does it? Could he work with you, knowing just how deeply you love him, and not feel an ounce of disgust? “You told me once sex is just a way to pass the time, but never, not once, have you ever even tried to pass the time with me.”

He swallows, deeper this time, jaw locked, his eyes fluttering with the force of it. He brings his knees to his chest.

“Because it wouldn’t just be passing time with you.”

In that moment, you’re grateful for the rain, for the sound of something to fill the silence.

You stare at him, cross-legged in front of the open corner of this yellow tent, abandoned bowls growing colder, but he sits with his leg up, knee to his chest, as if to ward you off. Ward off whatever is growing in your gaze, under the flat bone over your heart in your chest. But whatever is stifling the air in your lungs, is warming his eyes past the point of comfort, barrelling towards expletives and the crass, the lewd and depraved. You cannot go back to having him look at you any other way.

That look loosens every line in his face when you crawl into his lap, your knees around his hips. The backs of your thighs go damp, even through the suit, pressing down onto his still-damp shorts, and you think his breathing has quickened.

His massive palm hovers near your cheek, unwilling or unable to pull you forward or push you back, his oak eyes searching your face for signs of discomfort as if he had somehow dragged you across the tarp floor.

“Neptune,” he mumbles as he focuses on the curve of your bottom lip, “this is unwise. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

You can feel the hard curve of his shoulders as you follow the lines of his arms and settle them on his collarbone. Nothing has happened that can’t be undone – not yet. Your perfect, vicious Ezra hasn’t pressed you flat on your back like you thought he would at the hint of sex. You could return with your dignity tomorrow morning, this moment never spoken of again, and he’d let you have that. The shake of his elbow with his palm against the tarp is the only indication that something might be unsettling to him.

But it is your birthday after all. Maybe he’d let you have this one thing. He doesn’t know you’ll die without it.

“If you don’t want this . . . if you don’t want m-me, then say something. Push me away and I’ll never bring it up again.” You cup the sides of his neck as your hips shift forward, closer to him. The air in your lungs tightens, breath coming in shallow pants. Only then does he drop your gaze and fixate on your encroaching heat. “At least then I’ll know.”

There. Out loud. It’s been said, heard above the deluge of rain against the tent and the jungle outside.

His palm finally settles on your cheek. It brings a sense of wholeness to you like you’ve never known. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a breathy exhale pours out of your mouth. His thumb catches the plush curve of your bottom lip and he draws it towards your chin, his own mouth open, enraptured.

“Sweet thing, how have you not always known?”

His mouth is humid against yours, as if he swallowed the jungle while looking for you, his thumb releasing your lip to capture with his own. The tip of his pointer finger massages the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear, and he manipulates your head until your mouth parts like he wants.

His tongue skims your upper lip, a tentative exploration into the unknown rewarded with a low groan that is warmed by the heat coiling low in your hips. You taste his tongue, a hot glide inside your mouth, and you feel his arms slip around your lower back, his inhale of breath sharp across your face as he brings you closer. He bites your lips roughly, the spark of pain and pleasure crackling across your face as if you’d brushed a live wire.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, prying you from the back of his neck, just for a moment, his eyes heat-soaked. You suck your teeth, mouth open and seeking, and the hand around your jaw drops to your collarbone, the breadth of his palm nearly suffocating your throat.

The briefest pressure – the slightest touch – at the pulse at the bottom of your neck and your hips rock forward into him as he flattens his other palm to your ass, clutching you to him and pinning you to the pallet.

His teeth scrape against the curve of your ear, pinching the cartilage between his incisors, while his hands frantically search up and down your waist. His weight smothers you, his stomach breathing into yours, the flat plane of his chest rubbing your nipples raw against your suit, an unfocused lurch to his hips every time you tug on his hair. With every breath, every time you try to savor his touch, the taste of his mouth is like a wave, dragging you forward, wrapping a dizzy chain around your throat and squeezing.

Ezra’s greatest weapon has always been his mouth, that silver string spinning faster the longer he captivates you, spell-bound. Now he uses to decimate you in entirely new ways.

The suck of his lips against the moist flesh below your ear distantly distracts from the afterburn of his unkempt beard against your jaw, your cheek. His lips alternate patterns of reward with a plush kiss and punishment with a stern nip when you try and stifle a moan. The edge of his shirt is damp from resting against his shorts when you slip your fingers underneath to palm the small of his back. He stills when you run your fingers around to the front of his trunks.

His hand curls around a clump of hair at the base of your skull, his eyes darker than volcanic ash. The steady heat of his groin against your thigh is a sensation you’ll chase for the rest of your life.

“You know what happens when you touch a man there, Neptune?” He’s breathing hard, you both are, and the way he snags your hair in his fist has your head twisted at an odd angle, but you’d be damned to a Kevva-forgotten corner of the cosmos before you drop his gaze. You nod and that moon-shaped scar on his cheek twitches. “I know I didn’t teach you that.”

“L-learned it – somewhere else – Ezra.” Your mouth isn’t working properly, your lips swollen from his kisses, the slight pain in your scalp making it difficult to focus, while your cunt tightens hungrily. “Had to.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you wouldn’t give it to me.”

He leans back, his forearm tense and corded where he has you by the hair, a seemingly disinterested scowl on his face. But by the throbbing length pressed up against you, so far from where you need him the most, he is anything but.

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” Without breaking eye contact, his chest raised inches above yours, his fingers snag on the blue zipper by your collar and your breathing nearly stops. He hums to himself, eyes following the path of the zipper as the material separates, click by click by click. When it reaches your belly button, he stops.

“Ezra –,” it’s a whine and you can’t even chastise yourself for it. And neither, it seems, can he.

Head tilted as if curious about the label of a box beneath colorful wrapping, he dips his wide hand beneath the edge of your suit. The heat that radiates from his palm against the curve of your stomach has you writhing underneath him, your knees drawing up to his hips, trying to catch any relief.

But he takes his self-satisfied time. Callouses of a hard-won life snag and drag over the soft paper-thin skin that covers your ribs as he maps you in one hand. When he cups your right breast in his palm, the noise you make is a sob of gratitude.

“You let another man besides me do this to you?”

The snarling pit of your own thoughts slows as some awareness realizes he’s speaking to you.

You swallow, clutching his bicep, begging for forgiveness before even opening your mouth to answer.

“It didn’t mean anything, Ez, it wasn’t you – it meant nothing to me–,”

“But you let someone else touch what’s mine, hm?” That lazy, slightly irritated look on his face, he rotates his hand, squeezing the cup of your tit again, before sharply pinching your nipple.

“Ezra–,” you choke out and his thigh shifts between your legs, just close enough to feel the heat but nowhere near close enough to grind against. His thumb rotates the raised flesh slow enough to capture and catalog every sigh it draws from you, his eyes catching between his hand and your relaxed face.

He wears the same expression he does when sitting in the backs of blackmarket tea shops and smoky alebins. When the prospect of striking gold becomes all he can think about.

“Strip.” He suddenly commands. He lifts off you just enough for you to wrench your arm through the armhole, all the while keeping a rough palm on one breast, and then the other. You watch him massage your flesh and your ribs tremble with an unsteady breath. Only when a slightly cool breeze meanders over your bare shoulders and chest do you realize that the tent flap is still open, your head inches from the edge. A perfect and unimpeded view to anyone who wants to watch him hungrily grope your tits. Embarrassment peaks sharply, despite his hand pressing you into the tarp, you wrench your neck back and look over your shoulder through the window of the open tent as if you need to confirm that you are giving the jungle a floor show.

“Ez– shit, the flap–,”

He finds that the skin beneath your breast had grown sticky and slick from sweat, the humidity still oppressive even with a breeze. He bends his head and licks that same sweaty path and your attention snaps back to him, nails curling against his scalp, his warm breath a high-intensity balm to your roughly-played-with nipples.

“Not a soul in sight, Neptune,” he murmurs lazily into your ribcage, his nose running up and down the valley between your tits. “And if there were, let them learn a thing or two.”

His teeth nip the swell of your stomach as he crawls down your half-naked body. Without his heat and hands, the tenderness from his attention on your breasts ratchets up to an ache, a minor preoccupation before he hooks his fingers around the rest of the jumpsuit and tugs.

You are naked beneath him, swollen chest rising and falling, your knuckles scraping against the pallet as you search for something to grip with all your might. You smell of lagoon water and hot jungle air, of muggy photosynthesis and algae. The smoky scent of the black ash of that distant planet never really left Ezra and the dampness of the rain seems to stir it up. He towers over you, dark and breathing heavy. Smoke and brimstone.

He gropes your ankles, then your calves, hands gliding over the thick hair there – now grown soft in length – as he slowly spreads your legs, with a light you’d never seen before in his eyes.

“Neptune, I revolve around you.”

A wave of anxiety lurches up your throat when he brings his mouth to your cunt, the cloying, imagined scent of moon lilies threatening to tear you out of the moment – he won’t want you wild like this – but it’s forcefully yanked back down with a single stripe of his tongue. His previously casual, authoritative persona cracks when he buries his face into your unkempt curls and lets out a deep, overly pleased moan.

Your back bends and he’s gathering up your limbs in his arms to pin them down, nearly resting his forehead on your pubic bone. A few more licks, some deeper than others into where you drip for him, and your thighs start to shake. His fingers around your thighs squeeze roughly against your flesh and pull you further apart.

Between the flush of slick seeping from you at an embarrassing rate and the wiry hair kept natural out of a certainty no one would see it, he must be drowning or choking, his tongue flicking and sliding, nose prodding your clit just enough to spread the sparks of arousal up through your spine. Feeling as though you’re losing your grip on reality, you sink your hands into his hair, thumb rubbing back that blonde patch, and tug. The moan he shoots into your cunt as he rocks forward into your touch has you whining helplessly. The tarp squeaks where he rubs his hips into it.

His arms curled around your thighs, your hips shake with restraint against every lap of his tongue until he flicks your clit and your hips grind up against his obliging mouth, a sunspot of pleasure flaring brightly. But all too soon, Ezra lifts up onto his elbows, his hands smoothing across your stomach and he pops his mouth up from your wet folds. With an irate gasp, the swell of bliss fading, your gaze snaps down to plead with him, but he shakes his head.

Wordlessly, he takes one hand from your thigh and wipes his mouth clean with a swipe of his fingers. Then, with his eyes wide, the skin around his mouth loose, he crooks two fingers at the top of your mound before sliding them down where his mouth was seconds ago and presses them inside of you. That simmering in your low belly roars back to life and you toss your head against the unforgiving pallet, eyes slamming shut. He growls at the obscene sucking noise your cunt makes as he plucks at you, in and out.

“Oleaginous,” he hums, so quietly, it might have been for him. He tongues your clit lightly, pushing his fingers as deep as they can go, watching you thrash. “Mine. Understand?” You remember that tone of voice from when he had you dissecting throwers on a workbench in front of him. You nod, eyes fluttering open, balancing on the precarious edge of release.

You want to obey his every word.

His thumb twists up, opening your clit to him and within a whispered breath of “good girl” he sucks your bundle of nerves and launches you into orbit.

Your entire body goes stiff from the force of it, only to crash back down into his waiting hands, your voice wavering on a high-pitched, girlish wail that shrieks above the sound of rain. Waves of bliss lap at every nerve ending and your vision goes fuzzy for a minute, the only sound you can register is the pounding of your blood in your ears.

And then you register the steady, wet plunge of his fingers still dragging in and out of your pussy.

“Was that mine?”

Your clit tingles from overstimulation, but you’d rather die than have him stop – you want to answer, if only you could pick up the pieces of your voice. You can only nod, whining. He presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, the skin there smeared with your release.

“You did a bad thing, letting someone else touch what’s mine.” He scolds, rubs that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head, holds his finger to it until it burns. You cry, his punishment evident. “Now you have to apologize, Neptune.”

You nod again, mouth wrenched open as he drags you back and forth across pleasure and pain.

“Y-y-yes, Ezra,” the words are bone dry, cracked between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

Pure wickedness strikes those earth eyes and scorches them a singed black.

“Unfortunately, atonement is a fickle thing,” Ezra tuts, dragging his lips across your thigh in a mockery of a kiss, “and I’m not quite ready to offer absolution. Despite your offerings,” he wipes his mouth with a stroke of his palm, “this godhead remains rigid.”

You whimper. He grins with a mouthful of teeth.

Ezra pulls back onto his knees and shuts your thighs, his hand palming your ass as he indicates that you should turn. Your entire lower half still feels like jelly – no one has ever made you come that hard with just their mouth before – but you obey. You stagger onto your hands and knees in front of him.

His wide palm appears beneath your chin.

“Spit.”

You do.

That spit-wet hand cups your still wet cunt, middle finger rubbing briefly against your clit, before it disappears. You feel him move closer, hear his slick hand pump himself a few times with a grunt. Hot lips drag up your spine, interspersed with the nip of teeth, and when he lays across your back, his hands overtaking yours and threading your fingers together, his bare chest presses up against the skin of your back and you shudder.

He noses your temple, his throbbing cock coated between your folds. He bites at your jaw and follows your line of sight through the open tent flap.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it? All that moisture, dripping and running over smooth rock and fern. All that heat coagulating in spaces it shouldn’t fit. All that . . . open field, for anyone to just wander into. Take a look around and smell the air. Could they smell you like I can, Neptune? The way you leak for this cock?”

As he hums filth in your ear, his hand settles again at the base of your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to threaten, before sliding down to your swinging breasts, rough palms catching your swollen nipples, then arching down your stomach and between your legs.

He plays slowly with your clit; barely enough stimulation and he knows it.

“Ask for forgiveness.” He croons in your ear. The breeze returns for a moment, and between the heat of him mounting you like a feral animal and the hesitant touch of outside air against your sweaty chest, you shudder with a groan.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I’m so–,” his middle finger increases its pressure slightly and the words shatter in your mouth, “sor-ry.”

“And for what?”

He continues to rub between your folds and the minute hitch in his breath is more intoxicating than anything he’s done so far. This is affecting him just as much as it does you. He kisses your jaw then tugs on the skin with his teeth.

“For letting a-anyone but you t-touch me.”

Ezra presses his damp forehead into your shoulder, panting, your correct answers soaking the neurons in his brain. Your reward is the faster stroke of his finger.

“And why was that a reprehensible thing to do?” His hips rut into yours, the scrape and rub of his cock between your slick lips and thighs almost enough to set you off.

“Because it’s yours – I’m yours – f-fuck, Ezra, I’m yours, I only wanna be yours,” you sob.

He’s suddenly gone from above you and the loud crack of his hand against your ass cheek deafens you for a minute, the sting skittering up your back and down your thigh.

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your elbows shudder, the weight of his tone, his hand nearly forcing you onto your chest with your ass still in the air. You wanna be so good for him.

He’s breathing hard and his skin is warm and damp where you feel his thigh press against the back of yours. There’s a measure of restraint he’s showing and it makes your heart pound in anticipation. You swing your hips back at him, as if you could catch yourself on his cock.

“I wanna show you I’m yours,” you cry, nails curling into the pallet. “Please, Ezra, please!”

His broad hand settling on your spine draws a hiccup out of you, a sob.

“Breathe . . . Good girls get what they need.”

On an exhale, his blunt tip spreads you apart and he shuffles closer as he thickens inside you. His loud, unabashed moan overwhelms yours, when you think you might just be devoured by him. His hand, the one at your hip, squeezes you, silent reassurance. You can feel the knuckles on his other hand against your slick lips as he feeds himself into you.

“Neptune, talk to me. How,” your cunt tightens around his girth at the sound of his voice coaching you along and he grunts, as if suddenly dizzy, “h-how do you feel?”

“Amazing, Ez. Please keep going don’t stop I can take it–,”

He obliges; something’s reconnected the wires in his brain enough to tell him to move. He huffs before sinking deeper and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out and waits again, letting you both catch your breath.

“Spent a hundred moons thinking about this.” The puff of breath against your shoulder is the only warning you have before he presses his mouth to your skin. His hand free of your clutch, his thumb softly rubs the muscle of your neck. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, wherever he finds bare flesh. “Would wake up in the night, with you a few feet from me, looking like divinity made sin, made real, but I wasn’t worthy to touch you. You got me all tongue-tied, Neptune, all mucked up in the head. A silly boy,” he purrs.

You glance over your shoulder, unsure which Ezra is going to meet your eyes, but wanting all of them. The man you feel most safe with in this world and the next greets you and you reach back and squeeze his hand. He chuckles softly, and with it, comes a gentle roll of his hips. You gasp, airily, your gaze slipping from his face to his chest, to the steady breathing in his stomach, and then to the growth of hair that fades as it reaches up his low belly. How many times did you sit across the room from him with your fists in tight balls, watching as he regaled exploits of riches and wonder, all the while thinking about how thick his cock is outlined in his suit – you’re so blinded by breathy dreams of what the musky scent of his cock must taste like that you miss that he’s pulled out farther, halfway now, and you are completely knocked senseless when he thrusts back in, a beat faster.

“Later, Neptune. I’ll let you suck my cock later, but right now I’ve gotta ride this pussy to oblivion.”

Your thighs quake at his promise, cunt squeezing him, and he huffs, picking up speed.

“I felt that. You really like sucking cock that much?”

All you can answer him with is a whine. Your knees are starting to ache from the barest cushion the tarp provides, the palms of your hands sore, but you can’t find it in you to remotely care. With every stroke, he fills you up to a breaking point before riding you back out. Moaning gratefully, you finally drop onto your elbows, your cheek scraping against the pallet with every forceful thrust behind you. He tilts your hips up higher, on one knee to fuck down into you; he’s searching with his cock for that spot that made your brain numb.

Like a flood, you feel bliss roll down your spine, his hands on your lower back pulling you up another peak, and you gasp, at the edge of a very, very long drop, the sounds in the tent as sticky and wet as the rain outside.

But Ezra’s sounds are loudest of them all. Grunting. Hissing. Moaning like he’s fucking the best pussy of his life. You open one eye, glancing over your shoulder and the sight drops open your mouth. Hips pumping forward, skin dewy with sweat, he breathes like a freshly broken-in stallion, relieved that something finally bested him. Chest full and tight with muscle, flushed pink with roaring blood. Stomach torqued with tension. His rhythm is caught between his hands pulling you onto him and his cock thrusting into you. A frantic beat that bounces wet and hot, mouth agape and eyes rolling shut, his head drops back between his shoulders. You push back slightly and he stutters, the hand on your hip tightening.

“Not gonna last, Neptune–” he grits, his jaw locked tight. The image of him actively staving off an orgasm for you to finish first has been imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life.

“J-just a little harder, Ez.”

He obeys, submitting as you had for him, sweat curling around his neck and down his chest.

As release barrels down on you, those mahogany eyes catch and hold yours in a second that lasts through infinity. They promise you things that you didn’t know you asked for, those eyes, made vows only your soul could hear. You see, in that instant before you are swallowed whole, that he’d die at your feet, if you asked him to. He’d give up every worldly treasure he won through grit and his teeth if you needed it or wanted it. If it made you happy.

His Neptune – in the crushing grip of your gravity. Willingly caught in the trail of your comet as you fill up his night sky.

“Yeah, that’s it, right there – Ez-ra!”

His face blown out in near ecclesial bliss is the last thing you see before your vision goes white. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly, it's the only thing that exists for an instant. And then you shatter with a perfectly soft cry, bliss breaking across you like a heavy wave, and you succumb to exhaustion.

Behind you, he groans, fucking you faster through it, snarling something entirely incomprehensible.

You think you might say his name, you don’t know what your mouth is doing, but whatever you say, it breaks him and you are dragged through another low shock, the flood of cum deep into your achy cunt enough to contract your walls again, his harsh groan stuffing your ears just as full.

The rain is barely louder than your desperate attempts to breathe.

The tarp crackles as you slump forward onto your stomach, Ezra dropping to his side with half his body over yours. Panting raggedly, his hand curls up to the base of your neck, a reassurance of his presence and commitment when words have failed him.

You lay like that for a long time.

And then, when feeling starts to return to your limbs, you turn your head, your nose rubbing against his. When you breathe hotly across his face, he grins a satisfied grin that splits into a chuckle. You laugh with him too, curling up into his chest, his forearm is sticky across your spine, and he kisses your forehead.

Staring up at the tarp, together you listen to the rain.

In the long drawn out, buzzy silence, his nails scratch the base of your skull. And then, like he remembered something vital, he picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do you want this to change things for us?”

“Yes.” You cup the muscles of his thick neck. “Yes, Ezra. I want this to change everything between us. Please.”

He smiles, unguarded and open.

“Wild horses never stood a chance . . . especially against these tits.” He nips at the swell of your breast and you laugh. “I had no plans of letting you go in any case . . . but we are bound from this day forward. You know that, don’t you?”

You nod. A stroke of heat passes over his eyes and Ezra leans forward to kiss you, his hand on your cheek pulling you in close, as close as you can be, two sticky bodies, cum-dried and tingling.

“And if we’re going to spend every year of our lives together, I have a question for you.” he pushes away a stray strand of hair stuck to your face, nose tip to nose tip, “did you have a good birthday, Neptune? Are you satisfied?”

With a giggle that has his eyebrow arching playfully, you kiss his cheek.

“I already told you. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

143 notes · View notes

propertyofkirishima · 5 months

Text

Be Quiet

hitoshi shinsou x reader

summary: y/n has always had a hard time staying quiet about anything. shinsou is the very opposite of that. he is reserved and mysterious. and of course, fate has to bite them in the ass. the two of them are partnered up for a final project in their last year of high school. why does the universe hate them?

a/n- this is assumed to be set in their last year (when they are legal adults) 💜 fic includes: fingering, thigh grinding, 69 position, lots of cum and snarky comments, enemies to lovers? and as always, no spell check!

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“shinsou is my partner?”

you feel a rush of blood to your cheeks. patting your cold hands against the newly hot skin, you sigh and fall into uraraka’s shoulder.

“he hates me, ochako!”

the girl laughs at you, allowing you to lean onto her shoulder. “i doubt that, y/n.”

“well clearly you haven’t seen him staring bullets into my back! if he had the option to kill me, i think he’d take it!”

you heard someone clear their throat from behind you. muttering your apologies, you separate from urararaka and step aside the board. you were probably blocking it from the people behind you. when you turn around, you are met with the exasperated face of your partner.

shinsou.

oh god, you wanted to die! to literally die! you felt your heart drop in your stomach, panic setting in. your eyes darted to uraraka, who was just as surprised as you.

fuck! fuck! fuck!

“i don’t want to kill you y/n.”

you stood there for a few moments, barely registering what he said. shinsou found it kind of cute...how incorrect you were about him. though your mouth opened, no words came out.

“hm, the loud girl finally shuts her mouth. how refreshing.”

huh?? how rude! you were never going to shut your mouth! fuck being embarrassed, that was just plain old mean!

“excuse me?! sensei, i need a new partner, stat! this one is being mean!”

your sensei glared at you, ever used to your antics and dramatic flair. “i’m not giving you a new partner just because he said something mean, y/n. this is not a preschool.”

“oh for fucks sake...” you sigh loudly, pushing your hair back from your face. “don’t be an asshole, shinsou.”

“can’t make any promises.”

“well then i can’t make any promises that my fist won’t come in contact with your face.”

“good luck with that, pretty girl.”

and with that, shinsou walked away. a smirk was on his face as you stood there stupidly. your hands touched your cheeks again, which felt like they were on fire.

“pretty girl? the hell does he mean, pretty girl? i hate men!”

but honestly, you didn’t hate that one. not in the slightest. you felt yourself becoming attracted to him. he was the kind of guy who seemed all tough on the outside but a sweetheart on the inside, like bakugou. but wayyyy hotter.

you’d always had a crush on shinsou. he was the complete opposite of you. what attracted you to him was his enigmatic nature. though he was reserved, he was also very intelligent and intuitive. when he raised his hand in class, he fascinated you, embarrassingly enough.

uraraka came over to you. “he likes you! a lot!”

you wanted to bang your head on a table. multiple times.

“i want to die.”

uraraka laughed at you, taking your hand. “cmon! let’s go back to class!”

TIME SKIP

shinsou liked to watch you in class. you were the most interesting person he’d ever laid eyes on. your voice carried throughout the classroom as you shouted a profanity that went with your story. that earned you a glare from your sensei, who you apologized to, then went on like it was nothing.

the class laughed at your lack of concern. shinsou couldn’t help but chuckle himself as well. you were quite the character. it took a certain type of person to be able to handle you and your mannerisms.

your eyes shifted over towards his. when you realized he was staring, shinsou smirked. he gave you a wave without a care in the world. he was unabashedly staring at you. face blushing pink, you quickly adverted your eyes.

TIME SKIP

it had been a few days since the classroom incidents. your due date was coming in a month or so. but you wanted to get it done early. so you went to one of your many class 3-A group chats and found shinsou’s number.

y/n: project? 💻

shinsou : sure

shinsou: what day

y/n: whatever day works best for you!

shinsou: friday?

y/n: kayyyy sounds good! come to my dorm after dinner :p

read

you smiled to yourself and set your phone down. friday it is!

TIME SKIP

shinsou was on your bed. in grey sweatpants. on your bed.

you couldn’t help your eyes. they kept on going down to- nope! bad y/n! it was weird and perverted. if shinsou was looking down at your private parts you were sure you’d slap him!

did he notice? of course he did. but you had no idea. shinsou never really said anything about your obvious crush. he thought you were just adorable. that’s why he wore the sweatpants.

denki gave him the tip. shinsou would never admit it out loud, but his method worked. you were so flustered once he walked into your room. a chuckle came from his mouth when your eyes drifted down, but you had no idea he was laughing at you.

“so s-shinsou, what do you want to w-write about?”

the sexual tension was real. you could almost grasp it. it was emanating in the air, surrounding you.

“hmm,”

you bent over and grabbed a text book from your backpack. shinsou’s eyes widened as you displayed more of your thighs to him. the area of exposed skin made him feel some type of way. his thoughts began to drift to less appropriate things.

as you settled back down, your thighs squished back into your soft mattress. he wanted to touch them. to squish the thick skin in his hands. they looked so smooth. shinsou’s mind was that of a stereotypical teenage boy. how humiliating.

“shinsou, what do you uh, think about writing about how our pasts have affected our current motivations to become a h-hero.”

meanwhile shinsou’s brain was in a frizz. your room felt so hot. he carded his hands through his unruly violet hair.

gods, why did you bother him so much?

shinsou felt sweaty. so very sweaty.

“before we uh, get started,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “do you mind if i take off my shirt?”

“HUH?!” you gaped.

is he playing tirkcs on you? certainly shinsou has to know you have a crush on him. your actions are anything but lowkey. has he noticed you staring at his sweaty body after he gets done training? the way the sweat drips down his abs- or how big his arms are. oh god- get back to reality, y/n!

“it’s hot as hell in here.”

“s’not! s’not that hot at all!!”

shinsou glared at you. you glared back. your line of defense was anything but successful. and he was right- it was hot. but you preferred the warmth over anything else.

“fine! whatever! but we need to get to this project!”

“attagirl. do you have a hair tie i could borrow?”

when shinsou puts his hair up, your brain ceases to function. you could already imagine his strands of curls hanging out of the low bun.

“mmm...lemme go look.”

you turned your back on him, blushing furiously. attagirl. a simple phrase that turned your brain to mush. the lack of the shirt, his hair in the sexiest style, low hanging sweatpants. yeah, you were fucked.

finding a hair tie, you turned around to see that shinsou was sprawled on your full sized bed. his chest was face down (thank god) and his ring clad fingers were flipping through one of your journals.

“woah woah, nosy! get your dumb pretty boy head out of there!”

shinsou chuckled as you swatted him with the same book he was looking through seconds ago. you scold him under your breath as you return the journal to its rightful place. he had some nerve, going through your stuff!

“you think i’m pretty?” he teased

god, you hoped the entry he stumbled upon was a depressive episode entry and that he was just teasing you.

“no, i think you’re ugly and stupid. focus on the project, for christ’s sake!”

shinsou was disappointed by your reply. but he was sure that it was a front. your blushing face and flustered movements told an entirely different story.

“can’t say it was easy to understand when you were stuttering the whole time trying to explain the idea for it.”

taking the hair tie from your hand, shinsou pulled his hair up. half was up and half was down. a few unruly locks escaped his messy style. you hated to admit it, but he made you wet with just one look.

“oh for fucks sake! scoot over, asshole. i need room on my bed too!”

“can’t help that it’s tiny, princess.”

in spite of yourself, you mocked him. but truth be told, you loved it when he called you princess. you wanted him so terribly badly. he could call you any pet name and you’d think it was hot.

“what, you don’t like it when i call you princess?”

“shut up you-“

a startled gasp came from your mouth as he grabbed your chin. shinsou looked down at you condescendingly. such a fucking brat. but such a cute one at that.

“tell me the truth.”

his quirk- fuck! stupid shinsou with that incredible quirk! the control you had on your body temporarily ceased. your mind felt as though it went blank. and your lips were compelled to answer his question.

“i like it when you call me princess.”

“of courseeee you do, you just wanna act like a brat, huh princess? do you prefer brat or what?”

the response was automatic. robotic, almost.

“i like both.”

“attagirl. now you can shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

you were struggling against his control. being a victim of shinsou’s quirk was quite the inconvenience. he could literally ask you anything and you would have to say the answer.

“but i’m not that mean, so dontcha worry. i’ll release my control on you.”

once you were free again, you nearly lunged yourself at him.

“shinsou i am one step away from smacking the ever living daylights out of you!”

“calm down princess, i just wanted to test you.”

“test me? i’m starting to hate this.”

shinsou chuckled. “oh yeah? this has to be my favorite project of the year.”

“whatever, eyebags! onto the project!”

“eyebags?!”

you ignored him, continuing on with your spiel.

“basically, i think we should do how our pasts affect our current hero ambitions! like how you were put into class 1-B the first year and transferred to class 2-A in your second, ya know?”

“mmm, okay. at least you didn’t stutter that time.”

you smacked him with one of your books. little shit.

and so, you and shinsou began collaborating on your project. shinsou remained relatively distracted though, as so much of your skin was exposed. your long sleeve barely covered your boobs from spilling out. and that little mini skirt did nothing to hide your thighs. and the worst of all- that heart garter. he loved to hate those stupid things you wore every day. shinsou imagined himself biting down on your thighs- even imagined you naked with just the garters and panties and bra. you were too much of a hinderance to his learning.

you tried to ignore his stares. but it became increasingly difficult as more hours went on. the sexual tension was still there, burning more than ever. you decided to break it.

"shinsou- are you almost done?" you inquired.

shinsou sighed, shoving his laptop shut. he needed to get to the point- and quickly.

“listen princess, this project is interesting and all, but i have my mind on other things.”

you raised a brow. “oh? and what might that be?”

“we need to cut the tension and be honest with each other. i'm so fucking horny, y/n. i need you on my lap, making out with me.”

“sh-shinsou?” you whispered, stunned.

“oh, don’t tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“i- it’s just so sudden is all!”

“yeah, well i’m not an idiot. i can tell when a girl is horny too.”

you frowned at him, upturning your nose. the hell did he know about that? and since when was it ‘obvious’ to a person? shinsou gauged your reaction, only fueling his need.

“i have half a mind to kick you out of my room.”

“but cha won’t, will ya princess? you want me just as bad as i want you.”

you brought your body closer to his, letting your thighs rest on his chest. shinsou only smirked, his deep chuckle in your ear. his greedy hands pulled on the plushy, soft skin of your thighs.

now it was your turn to tease him. your index finger trailed from his sharp jawline to v line towards his pants. shinsou simply observed you as your finger raked down his pale skin.

“how do you know that i want you so bad, shinsou?”

“i can smell ya from right here, brat.”

you weren’t even ashamed of your wetness. your pussy clenched at shinsou’s arrogant words. god, you panties were absolutely soaked. you spread your thighs and adjusted once again, letting your wet panties soak into his gray sweatpants.

“why don’t you just drop the stupid fucking innocent act?”

“m’not acting any way sir.”

“oh really?” he growled, pulling your collar back to him. “because last time i checked, i had the mind control quirk. so if you keep lying to me, i’ll force you to tell the truth.”

a whimper came from your throat as he moved his fingers to your neck. the thin, long fingers that you had wet dreams about. you wanted him to scissor you, shove them in your mouth, or even choke you if you got lucky. and it seemed like his mind ran to the same things.

“don’t be such a meanie, shin!”

“tell.”

his fingers wrapped around your throat.

“me.”

a single squeeze. you moaned, gripping desperately onto your bed sheets. fistfuls of the cotton material. fingers and eyes begging for more.

“the.”

oh god, now he was really doing it. his fingers squeezed hard.

“truth.”

a strained moan came from your throat as his fingers rendered you weak. you made a squealing sound and pulled at his wrist. shinsou chuckled as he watched your desperate hands. he wanted to tease more, but knew that you were finally willing to admit the truth.

“i’m acting like a brat because i want you to fuck me, sir.”

“and you just love acting like a brat. you love acting all innocent, being the adorable little thing you are. acting so oblivious. it’s a damn shame that you couldn’t own up to your desires sooner. i'd have fucked you all the way through high school.”

“really?” you smiled at him. "i never knew, shinsou."

shinsou smirked back, brushing hair from your face. you were so sweet despite your loudmouth. "i always thought you were hot, y/n. you'd be stupid to think you aren't attractive."

you nodded your head.

“god, your eyes are so pretty. they will look even prettier crying when i overstim you.”

“shinsou-” you gasped. he smirked as he threw you down on the bed. shinsou towered over you, chain hanging by your lips. his hand gripped your cheeks, squishing your adorable face.

“tell me what you need, my pretty princess.”

“i wanna be on your lap shinsou.”

fucking hell, the two of you were a match made in heaven. he always imagined your thick thighs wrapped around his chest. shinsou chuckled, sitting up against the wall. his hands beckoned you and his legs spread to welcome you on his lap.

"go on. sit on me, princess."

you blushed. "shinsou- i'm chubby."

your adorable little pouty face. shinsou shook his head. "get those thick ass thighs on me before i grab you myself."

you began to rock back and forth on his thigh. shinsou felt your hips grind your wet cunt into the material of his sweatpants. he looked down to see a giant wet spot and tsked to himself.

“naughty little girl, leaving a mess for me to clean up.”

“mmm~ i’ll always be naughty for you~”

he chuckled to himself as he observed you. entranced in the way you got yourself off. your eyes were screwed shut but your mouth was wide open. back arched close to his chest, nearly pressing against him. whines and whimpers fell from your mouth as you experienced an ultimate sense of euphoria.

“that’s it princess. keep on going.”

"shinsou, you're so big and muscly-" you whined.

your hands gripped at his biceps. he flexed slightly so you could feel his strength, which made you giggle. natuso couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"yeah? you like it?"

"uh huh!" you moaned as he rocked his thigh up into your pussy. shinsou loved watching you fall apart on him. "that feels really good sir!"

“oh yeah princess? you like grinding on my thigh like a little whore?”

“yes sir! feels so fucking good!!”

shinsou chuckled. he watched your face contort as you fell apart for him. the way your jaw dropped open and you threw your head back. how your thighs trapped his own. your boobs jiggling.

“god y/n, look at you. fucking falling apart on me and i haven’t even touched you yet have i? you’re a desperate little girl aren’t you?”

“so desperate daddy!” you whine, gripping onto his arm.

shinsou feels you press your tits around his arm. he leans into your ear and watches goosebumps appear as he speaks. your whimpers became louder until they were moans. he felt your pace hasten as you came closer.

“you gonna cum, pretty princess?”

shinsou chuckled as you moaned his name at climax. he had never seen anything so hot in his life. everything about this was perfect for him.

once you came down, you blinked. “oh my god- what have i done?”

“came all over my thigh like a dirty little girl.”

“shinsou!” you whined. “you’re so mean! i-i just can’t believe i did that…”

shinsou leaned against the wall, smirking. “oh i fuckin can. you’ve been horny for me, haven’t you?”

you gasped, wrapping your legs around him. shinsou felt you sit on his hard cock. his eyebrows knit as you settled your warm pussy right on top of him.

“i’m not telling!”

shinsou didn’t even register what you said though. you felt his dick throb. it was clear he needed to be taken care of.

“fuck y/n, you’re so hot. i should’ve shut you up like this long ago.”

shut me up? you pouted once again. “what d’ya mean shinsou? what do you wanna do?”

shinsou thought about it for a second. he didn’t want to rush into things. but he also wanted to pleasure you and show you just how skilled he was.

“69?” he asked

you blinked. “s-shin…i’ve never done that before,”

he took his face into his hands. those wandering eyes, peering into his own. they shined with lust. “oh princess, you’ll do amazing. i’m here to help you through…first things first.”

he pushed you off his lap. you gasped as you landed back on your pillow. shinsou wasted no time in tearing off your shorts.

“now princess…do you wanna keep your shirt on? i won’t force ya into anything.”

you were shy. you nodded your head.

“that’s okay baby. perfectly fine. i’m gonna take your panties off, okay?”

as he removed your panties, he smelled your pussy. his dick twitched uncontrollably, especially when he felt how wet the panties were. shinsou curiously pushed one of your thighs up. this revealed your sloppy, wet pussy to him. he audibly groaned.

“fuck princess. i need to feel this cunt.”

he took a finger, plunging it inside. your back arched as you felt the sensation. shinsou’s breathing became faster as he heard the squelching noises. he added another finger, making you cry out his name.

“shinsou! oh god- it feels really good!”

shinsou thought about how his cock would be even better. but that needed to wait. just like the fingers. he promised you 69, and 69 was what you were going to get. you whined as he withdrew his fingers.

“ah ah ah, don’t you start making those sounds. i could be real mean to you baby and not make you feel good.”

you shook your head quickly. “no sir! i wanna still feel good!”

shinsou loved this control. he towered over your body, each hand on the side of your head. he leaned down and seized your lips. you were caught in a storm of tongue and passion. both of you moaned into the kiss.

“need to switch positions princess. those thighs are gonna be around my head and that mouth is gonna swallow my cock. okay?”

you nodded your head, allowing him to rest his on your pillow. “you sure you won’t suffocate? i’m a bigger girl…”

“fuck, if i suffocate, ill die the happiest man. i have been dreaming about those thick ass fuckin thighs. can’t wait for you to sit that pussy down. it’ll be the perfect place for it.”

you giggled, though still unsure of yourself. shinsou took his sweats down, allowing for his dick to spring free. a little gasp escaped you. you couldn’t wait to suck it.

“you like what you see, my princess?”

“yes daddy! ‘m gonna treat you sooo good!”

you eagerly wrapped your hands around the base. shinsou hissed, slapping the back of your thighs. “put your pussy on my fucking face.”

finally, you sat on his face. natsuo absolutely lost it. all these moans came from him as he devoured your insides. and as for you, you arched your back and slurped up and down.

“fuck!” natsuo mumbled. “fuckin amazing head,”

as you went down, so did your pussy. the two of you were in perfect tandem. natsuo gripped onto your hips, slapping your ass occasionally. he couldn’t wait for more of these moments. next time he’d fuck your face, or even your pussy if you’d let him.

you loved sucking his cock. especially when he added inside his fingers. you were absolutely lost in pleasure. it felt so good to take care of shinsou while still also feeling good. he began twitching in your mouth. you began slowing your movements, becoming closer yourself.

“shit- shinsou! shinsou! it feels so good daddy!” you moaned

he felt you swallow him whole. shinsou’s eyes widened, feeling himself get close. he began to jerk up his hips, loving the sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you choke.

you pushed your pussy on his face harder, practically fucking yourself on him. you slid your pussy up and down his lips, even side to side. you knew he was going to be absolutely covered in your juices.

he began to twitch, jerking his thighs all the way up without stopping. you choked, feeling his cum shoot up into your throat. quickly, you tore yourself off.

“shin-shinsou! please daddy~ make me cum too!”

when you looked back, shinsou only spurted more cum. it was all over your neck and he could see it on your tongue and lips. he gripped your thighs extra tight, quickening his pace.

“fuck daddy! yes! that’s so good!”

shinsou loved your pussy. he felt you go up from his nose to down his chin. and he wanted you to get it all over him. it was the best feeling he had ever experienced.

finally, you let out your final whine. “i feel it daddy~ oh god!”

you immediately pulled yourself off him. shinsou frowned, but quickly smirked again when you sat back on his chest. now there would be pussy on his tummy too.

“god princess…” he sighed, propping his head up. “i’m covered in you!”

you put your face in your hands as if it would help. shinsou chuckled. “did you like it?”

“uh huh- loved it shinsou.”

he brought your hands down and put them around his neck. you leaned down, cuddling yourself on top of him. shinsou smiled, petting your head softly.

“it was the best time i’ve ever had…” you admit

“yeah?” shinsou said. “me too.”

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

#anime #bnha #hitoshi shinsou #mha shinsou #shinsou smut #bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader smut #mha smut #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #my hero academy fanfiction #shinsou x you smut #shinsou x y/n smut

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oysterdelite · 3 months

Text

introduction !!

MINORS DNI

Hello everyone! I’m making this blog cause oh man what is a 20 year old with a weird interest in breeding other t-boys to do but get on tumblr and find a community lol

Anyway hi I’m Oyster (or delite or del or my real name which I’m only willing to share if we become buds!) I’m a Service/Soft Dom & Stone Top, I’m pre-T, transmasc, and use He/They pronouns (He preferred!)

I like puppy boys and kitty boys and enjoy being called Sir most! I will be posting probably mostly about pounding my boyfriend most because I’m deranged.

(Yes I chose this blog name because something something eating clam lol)

I’m autistic, chunky, and Latino so plz no ableism, fatphobia, or racism, you will be blocked!

Anons: Currently Accepting Anons!

DMs: CLOSED!

Star ⭐️, A, Anon <3, Top Anon, 🦊, 🧸, 🎾🐾, 🦈, 💤, Holy 🪽 (he/him), 🪷, ❇️, 💙, 🦇🐾 , 🎲, 🏵️, 🐑, 🍓🐶, 🌿, 🕯️, 🐕🎀, 💜🖋️, 🦴, 🐚, 🌟, L, 🥕, 🪱, 🍑, 🐈‍⬛🖤, 🦷, 🥀🐾, 🍪, 🕸️, 🍬, 🏴‍☠️🧬, 🌹✨

Tags!:

#oyster answers for answer asks, #oyster’s anons for answering anon asks #oyster delite and #oysterdelite for general tag, #oyster blazes for when I’m faded and talking out my ass, #oyster blogs and #nerdy oyster for my interests and general blogging, and #oyster says something serious for serious talk!

I’m 5 feet tall which I think is always very funny to people who can’t comprehend a short autistic trans guy who only tops lol

More below the cut about kinks, limits, dni, and more info about me!

My posts are not consent to send me unsolicited photos- please ask FIRST!

Given that this is my page, I am allowed at any time to stop interacting with you for any reason. If I am uncomfortable or just not in the mood to talk- I may not answer. Please do not take offense to this. I am still a regular human behind the screen.

I am fine being friends with y’all but I do have a partner so any “flirting” is pretty much platonic and does not mean we are dating, talking stage, a “situationship,” etc. If you would like to get to know me more please feel free to reach out but just because you jack off to my text posts does NOT mean you deserve to have access to any personal or private information about me and is not consent to pressure me into sharing more than I’m comfortable with.

Kinks!

(Highlighted are my faves!)

Breeding

Drool

Monster Fucking

Knotting

Semi-Public sex

Begging

Hair pulling

Praise

Light cnc/Dubcon (agreed upon before hand and given signals when it’s ok)

Edging

Pet play

Somno

Intox

Voyeurism

Overstimulation

Teasing

& more I can’t remember rn

Limits

Feel free to keep interacting with my blog if you enjoy these, they’re just not for me!

Any body fluids other than cum or spit (blood, pee, fecal matter, vomit, etc)

Impact play

Bondage (really depends on the situation! Intense bondage is a little too much for where I am now!)

Forced masc

Proper rape play (light cnc is fun but I will not enact scenes involving grabbing someone off a street or forcing myself on them if they’re thrashing about or fighting back)

Daddy kink (I prefer Sir! This may change from day to day depending on how I’m feeling but in general I usually won’t respond to that)

Hard Limits

PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG OR COMMENT ON MY CONTENT IF YOU ENGAGE WITH THESE TOPICS

Race play

Ageplay

Ddlg or anything similar

Beastiality

Necroplay

Detrans

Anything weight related (feeder/feedee etc)

Incest or fauxcest

DNI!

Racists, Transphobes, Ableists, Fatphobes, Conservatives, Zionists (Free Palestine!), etc

Anyone under 18!!

MAPS, pedos, Zoos, etc

Men DNI blogs (I am a man! Please for your sake, don’t interact with my stuff!)

Anyone who thinks they can “fix” my stone top identity. No I don’t bottom, no I don’t like receiving please don’t try to change that I will block you!

Get to know me better!

I have an elderly dog and I work as a math tutor for my college. I’m currently studying graphic design but I was previously a biology major. I like to draw in my spare time, I’m a huge fan of post punk and new wave music. Every time I go to karaoke, Creep by Radiohead is the first song I choose (yes I’m cringe). I love D&D and nerdy shit and spend most of my time at my local game club! I’m autistic, adhd, and probably have POTS and hypermobility so some days or weeks are harder on my body than others! My favorite color is pink and I love spy movies and comedy sitcoms about terrible people.

I have a real life outside of tumblr, please do not be offended if it takes me a little while to get back to you!

I think that’s about it! Come have fun with me! Feel free to send in asks to me anytime, but I am getting busy so I ask that you be patient!

Love,

OysterDelite

#mlm nsft #t4t #gay #t4t mlm #t4t nsft #ftm nsft #ftm sub #ftm ns/fw #ftm bottom #ftm puppy #trans ftm #transmasc #breeding k1nk #submisive and breedable #FTM dom

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fairytail-incorrectquotes · 5 months

Note

I missed you faeboss! Could I get a fraxus/Thunder Legion quote for old times sake? 💜💜💜

Freed: Cana has been saying we’re a couple.

Laxus: I wish.

Freed: Huh?

Laxus: Uh— I said “that bitch”.

#WE ARE SO BACK #💜 anon #fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #fairy tail #incorrect fairy tail quotes #fairy tail incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect quote #anime #manga #ask

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reality-detective · 3 months

Text

A brief write up of my personal story. 👇

I haven't been lucky in life with getting my way, I've worked hard for everything including vehicles for myself since I got divorced in 2013 and then it got worse, I lost everything. I had 2 Harley Davidsons, a 1976 FLH shovelhead and a 1990 Ultra Classic, I had a 2010 Ford Edge and a nice house with an in ground pool (16' x 32') and a hot tub. I lost it all.

I had health issues in 2015 which damn near killed me. I continued on a downward spiral with depression and anxiety, the feeling of worthlessness, it seemed as if my life was out of control. I fell into the BIG pharma scam and walked out of an intensive care unit where I spent 2 weeks in and 3 weeks out of an ICU hospital stay with 16 different prescriptions and half were psych meds.

I fell as far as one could fall, I was contemplating suicide and then in the twinkling of an eye my life changed, I went cold turkey on all medications but one. My head lost the fogginess and I was able to think.

I went through my Dark Knight of the Soul which wasn't easy, It took me a couple of years to get through that, but I gotta say Q and having Trump as president shook me awake even more as I watched all this unfold while I fought my own demons.

I have totally regrouped my physical, mental and spiritual well-being. I'm not ashamed of the path I took because now it all makes sense and validates where I am today.

I have a small circle of friends but the ones I do have are rock solid brothers and sisters from another mother and that includes the comrades I have met from different countries throughout this war. I have excellent connections in the Netherlands, Germany, Georgia (the country), the UK, and Australia.

Anyway the point of my story is to just share more of my personal struggles, my experience, where I'm at and where I'm going. This IS a spiritual war, this IS biblical and this IS historical. It's the greatest time ever to be alive.

My life has turned a complete 180° although I don't have anyone special to share my life with I feel it is still complete, I'm happy, I have another motorcycle and a nice vehicle, a roof over my head and the blessings just keep coming. Throughout all the shit this old soul has been through I will say this: "It doesn't matter what material bullshit you have in life it's not going to make you happy if you don't have yourself. If you lose yourself, you have nothing, even if you have everything."

- My name is Terry, I was banned from Fakebook, I had a Twitter account for 6 months before being tossed off there. I had a Tumblr account for years until Trump was elected, then I was deactivated, opened another account/deactivated, so I opened another account... Boom 💥 deactivated a again. So I opened a 4th account only to be booted again but I fought them this time. As that battle continued for 8-10 months. Meanwhile I opened a 5th account which is what I use here. 10 months later I won the battle to get my 4th account reactivated which is called constantly-deactivated (now my backup account.)

Stay positive, never surrender and for God's sake... "TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF" Don't ever lose yourself, self care is important especially NOW.

We're nearing the end of this show and remember... 👇

Never give up on yourself, keep climbing thos stairs. 🤔

I care deeply about humanity surviving, you have no idea what you really are. You are the universe, seriously 💫

I Love you all. 💜

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #personal story #me #my writing #love #peace

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rotten7rat · 3 months

Text

Batkids Music - Playlists Linked

So I've made playlists for almost all the batkids now (I will go back and edit this post once I have added at least an hour to Cassandra's, Duke's and Damian's, but for the moment I am stuck).

Dick - Bimbo Pop? I dunno just fun and a little embarrassing, but mostly fun. That video of that girl dancing down the street listening to Fantasy by Mariah Carey? Him - 💙🖤

Cassandra - soft and comforting with some more upbeat sounds tossed in, like staying in on a rainy day but also playing video games with your girlfriend - under construction

Jason - grungy/emo/punk-ish? Hasn't updated his playlist since he was 14 but still likes everything on it for old times sake at least - ❤🤎

Stephanie - ridiculous. Keeps people on the edge of their seats, wondering what shit will play next, an actual song or ???, gives Bruce a headache - 💜🖤

Tim - chill and relaxed, maybe a little depressing at times, nice driving music, and skating music - ❤💛

Duke - classic rock? Like Zeppelin and Hendrix maybe? Help welcomed - under construction

Damian - I literally have no ideas, help needed - under construction

These playlists are for music that I think they would listen to, rather than songs that fit them. The playlists include music that they listened to when they were younger and still now (coz who doesn't still like the same shit they did as a kid, even if its just for nostalgia?)

I add to these and edit them all the time, and suggestions are very welcome!

Enjoy

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝐏𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐲 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre!outbreak joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn

word count: 3.1k

summary: Months after the move you're trying to paint again. But you lack the motivation to do so. Thankfully, Sarah comes over and keeps you company until Tommy and Joel come over to pick her up.

warnings: brief themes of grief, tommy radiating younger sibling energy and being a menace, fluff

a/n: thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the prologue and a special thank you to @pedrito-friskito who edited the chapter, love you! 💜💜💜

prologue || chapter two

The dust lingers in the air, a constant reminder of what once was. You see flecks of it dancing in the beams of light that pour through the window, illuminating the room with a hazy glow. The smell of dust permeates every corner, fills your lungs. There are still boxes stacked in your room. Some of them waiting to be unpacked and some of them waiting to be filled.

Looking through your grandfather’s old knick-knacks had been a harder task than you thought. You found pictures, lots of them. From his past, from his now. You even found a picture of yourself from when you were a kid; laughing in the sun with mud all over your face. You had promised him the perfect garden. At the end of the day, it was far from it but he still said that it was.

Your fingers clench around the brush you’re holding. An hour ago you decided to use the grief to make something of it. You had a heaping amount of black and red paint poured onto the pallete, untouched.

You shake your head, agitated. You really shouldn’t be wasting paint. It’s not like you can afford to continuously buy supplies.

You’re staring deeply into the blank canvas when a loud knock jars you back to reality. You can feel a burn in your eyes, taunting you for the wasted hour spent sitting idly without so much as a brushstroke to show for it.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble under your breath while heading to the door. Your eyes linger on the window, it’s a clear day out, which now you decide to point all your anger at. If it was raining, it would be different. You would have the proper ambiance to be inspired.

Without looking, you open the door, your eyes immediately dropping to the girl standing on your porch. “Sarah?”

“Sorry for barging in,” she says with a sheepish grin. “I forgot my keys and dad isn’t home yet. Can I come inside?”

Dad. Joel.

You blink before smiling. You take a step to the side as a wordless invite. She steps inside with grace, her shoes blinking pink and purple. It’s hard to stifle a giggle, which earns you a quizzical look from her.

You point to her feet, “Nice kicks,”

“Oh,” her eyes lit up, leaving her heel glued to the hardwood floors, she lifted her foot. “Aren’t they cool? Azra offered we trade shoes for the day.”

"Veeery nice," you nod, but as Sarah turns to head further inside, you clear your throat. "Shoes off," you remind her.

“Right, sorry.”

You make your way to the kitchen, Sarah follows closely behind, taking off her blinking shoes as she goes. You stretch up on your toes and open the cupboard, searching for Sarah's preferred brand of tea.

Since you moved in and formed close bonds with the Miller family, both Tommy and Sarah have been regular visitors to your home. You enjoy their company. It was nice to talk to people instead of obsessing over your muses that had clearly abandoned you.

You pull out the box of apple cinnamon tea and place it on the counter. Joel never stops by. You only see him whenever he comes over to pick up Sarah and that’s pretty much it. Sometimes you send cookies via Sarah and the next day she would tell you he enjoyed them. You aren’t quite sure if Joel is just reserved or if he just didn’t like you that much, but no matter what it is, the rest of the family seems to enjoy your presence. Which is all a neighbor could ask for.

The staccato drumming of Sarah’s fingers against the wooden table pulls you back. You turn on the kettle, a soft steam filling the kitchen.

“Your uncle Tommy is going to stop by too,” you say, leaning back and crossing your arms. “I’m assuming you’re dad is with him?”

“Yeah, but it’s pizza day today so my dad will probably force them to stop by the supermarket to grab some stuff,” she lets her head fall onto her hands and adds. “If he doesn’t forget, that is. You should join us,”

The water comes to a boil, forcing you to turn away from her. You place two tea bags into comically large mugs (the ones that make both Tommy and Sarah giggle, which brightens up your day) and pour the steaming water into them. You place one of the mugs in front of Sarah and slide into the chair beside her, watching as she wraps her nimble fingers around the purple mug.

“I’m a busy woman,” you tease. “I need to work and stuff,”

“Coffee shop?”

“I’m off for the day,”

A mischievous glint glimmered in her eyes, her smile widening into a cheeky grin. “Date?”

You snort into your tea, waving your hand dismissively. Sarah raises an eyebrow at that. The girl has quite a sharp intuition. If you were being completely honest, it made you nervous some days.

“Nah, I just need to work on my paintings. I haven’t managed to paint a single stroke. It’s frustrating,” you stop and take a sip, the fruity flavor makes your taste buds come alive. “Very annoying,”

“Maybe just paint something else or sketch something you like,” she states nonchalantly. “Take a break from the main thing, do a side quest,”

“Sometimes I do that, but I really need to get a grip. I’m gonna end up working at the coffee house forever, or I’m just going to have to risk starvation,”

“Don’t worry. We’ll take you in, feed you,”

Teenagers. You shake your head with an amused smile, “What am I? A dog?”

“A friend.”

You still at that, fingers curling around the hot mug, it burns to the touch. Sarah starts to look around your house as if what she just said just now wasn’t ridiculously sweet.

She hops off the chair and starts to wander with her mug nestled between her palms. Taking a sip, you smile into the porcelain rim, your heart beating fast.

When you first moved here, you were scared to be alone. That you wouldn’t be able to make any friends. After your grandfather died and left you the house, you had half a mind to not make the move. It was nerve-wracking at the time. But ironically enough it was your grief that spurred you to take the leap forward.

Sarah slows down, reaching the bookshelf. The one you have in the living room isn’t really that impressive, mostly put there for decor. She pushes a succulent out of the way and allows her fingers to trace the smooth spines. “You have a lot of children’s books,”

“What can I say, I’m a kid at heart,” you observe the bookshelf next to her. She isn’t wrong. A lot of Roald Dahl books, which are followed by a series of Nicholas and the Gang books. “If you want to see my more serious stuff, we can check the one upstairs.”

“I’m good,” Hooking her fingers around Matilda, she pulls the paperback out of its home. She flips it over and scans the back. “Can I borrow this one?”

“Sure, be my guest. That’s one of my favorites,”

“Living in a house full of dumb-dumbs sounds like my life story,”

“Oh, believe me, your dad is much smarter than he looks,” the sigh you let out attracts her attention, eyes flitting back to you. “And so is your uncle. Also, Matilda’s parents are kind of assholes,”

“Woah, spoilers.”

Another knock at the door. Compared to Sarah’s slow, more careful ones. These knocks sound eccentric, hitting the wood as if the person behind it is out to break it.

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah guesses, rolling her eyes but smiling. “My dad’s probably with him,”

She’s spot on with her guess. Sarah peers from your side, looking over both her uncle and dad. Tommy shoots you a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Joel stands tall right behind him, his arms crossed, he greets you with a small smile and a signature head tilt.

“Hello boys,” you say, returning the nod and smile. “Do you guys wanna come in?”

Joel lifts a bag of groceries, “Pizza day,”

Sarah’s ears perk up at that, her eyes wide with disbelief, “You didn’t forget!” then she narrows her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out. “Who are you and what did you with to my dad?”

“I had to remind him,” Tommy chuckles, nudging his shoulder into Joel’s. He holds your gaze. “But I’m here for you, beautiful,”

“My hero.”

Joel scoffs with a half grin and gestures his head towards Sarah, “Get your things. Let’s get going.”

All Sarah has to do is lean to the side and grab her backpack from behind the door. Joel waits for her below the short set of stairs, one hand in his pocket, eyes flicking between you and Tommy. He seems impatient, almost.

Tommy brushes past you while Sarah takes her first step over the threshold. At that very moment you feel suspended in time, your eyes finding Joel’s for a brief moment until Sarah comes into view. He slaps a hand over her shoulder and smiles at you. Sarah is still holding the book as she waves you both off.

When you close the door, Tommy is already in the kitchen, rummaging through your fridge. “You have nothin’ to eat,”

“I thought we could order out,” you offer, your gaze falling to the blank canvas. Tommy moves his entire upper body out of the fridge and slams it shut.

“You have anything in mind?”

You don’t have to think long for an answer.

“You know what? I think I’m craving pizza.”

The thing about Tommy Miller is that he’s a good listener, paired with quite the mouth.

He can talk for hours. You always comment on how that was his superpower; there RE no awkward silences when Tommy İs near. He’s also ridiculously intuitive, which makes you think Sarah got it from him.

You two are sitting on the couch with crossed legs and facing each other. Your knees press together as he tells you about his day, munching on the last slice. He’s telling you how the concrete deliveries got delayed, which meant that the rest of their schedule got fucked. His words, not yours. Joel was furious, apparently. You never would’ve guessed. He just looks tired all the time.

“By the way,” he says, swallowing and reaching for the glass of bubbling coke. “If you were cravin’ pizza so much, we could’ve gone over to Joel’s. Eat some of that good homemade shit,”

Picking up the empty pizza box, you place it on the coffee table and push it with the tips of your fingers. You don’t know how to answer him. Your brows furrow, and when he sees it, worry crosses his face.

A bitter chuckle drops abruptly from your lips, “I don’t think Joel likes me very much,”

“What?” Tommy sounds positively horrified. If anyone heard, they would’ve thought you said something along the lines of your mother dying. “Nonsense. He adores you. Why would you even think that?”

Your eyes drop to the cushions you sit on. You feel the brush of his knuckles ghosting over your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze. His eyes are a soft brown, a shade lighter than Joel’s.

“Hey, you can talk to me. Did he do something to make you feel like that?”

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, your pulse throbs under your skin. “I just…I don’t know. It seems like he’s wary of me, like I did something wrong once and he’s expecting it to happen again,”

He sighs, his palm now fully cradling your cheek. You can’t help but lean into his touch. “That’s just Joel for you. He’s got a fair share of weight on them shoulders—I’m also probably not a big help to him. Always getting into trouble,”

“I know for a fact that Sarah and Joel love you very much,” you have the need to remind him, and his eyes light up at your words. The skin under his hand burns. “Besides young siblings are always trouble, I would know since I’m the younger one as well. It’s character.”

He blows a raspberry into the air. His hand falls from your cheek and takes refuge over his lap. “Some character,” he utters under his breath, shooting you a playful gaze. “You want me to talk to him?”

“Please no,” you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder as you get up. “That would be super embarrassing,”

“Sometimes you need to tell that stubborn dog to behave,” his voice reaches you in waves, his socked feet following you to the kitchen. You dispose of the boxes, start to prepare him, and you some late-night tea.

“He is behaving,” you reply, feeling his presence behind you. “I just get into my own head sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”

Your hands are still above the kitchen counter when you feel his warm breath fanning the back of your neck. You watch his fingers curl around the edge, his chin not quite pressing but lingering a couple of centimeters above your shoulder.

“Anyone who doesn’t like you is a grade-A idiot, just sayin’” his voice is a low echo in your ear. He’s not physically touching you, but it feels as if his entire being is consuming you by just being so close. The click of the kettle parts the silence. “The water’s done.”

You’re surprised when you turn and find that there’s actually quite a bit of space between you still. You could’ve sworn that his body was only a breath away.

Tommy steps closer, caging you between his arms and the kitchen counter. He has a lazy, yet adoring, smile on his face. Your legs start to tremble, a habit you found you did whenever you were in any kind of confrontation.

Now, there isn’t really anything to confront, so you blame the crackling of tension between you and him. You take a breath and your chest heaves.

You hold your breath when you notice he’s starting to inch closer, gorgeous browns dropping to the flush of your lips. You don’t pull away. But you don’t lean in either. You’re like a deer in headlights, shocked by the sudden beam of brightness.

“Is this okay?” he asks in a whisper. You swallow, your muddled mind finding it difficult to string the words that might or might not form a coherent sentence.

Tommy has always been a close friend. A confidant. Someone you can call in the middle of the night with noquestions asked. You know for a fact that he can be a flirt. And this quality of his cheered you up from time to time—like when he calls you beautiful or praises you in any shape or form. But you’re quite not sure you want to breach the limitations of a platonic relationship.

Suddenly you feel his lips on your cheek, pulling back as quickly as he leaned in, he releases you from the cage and grins at you.

“Gotcha.”

“Excuse me?” Your mouth feels like sandpaper and your throat dry. You swallow and watch him sit on a stool across from you. His fingers grip the peaking part of the stool head between his legs, he looks like a toddler.

“I’m just doing my thing, being a troublemaker. Just like you said,” he hunches forward, eyes looking up to you between dark lashes. “It’s character, right?”

“Oh fuck off, Tommy Miller,”

“You know I’m not above accepting that offer, right? It’s been a while.”

You roll your eyes and turn on the kettle again, the steaming water now probably tepid.

“What would you do if I actually kissed you?”

The question lingers in the air and uncomfortably presses into your skin, you lack the air to take a breath. You don’t dare to look at him. Gaze stubbornly watching the button of the kettle to pop, signaling you that the water is boiling.

“I don’t know Tommy,” you answer honestly and press a palm against the heating surface of the kettle. “I don’t know.”

You hate taking out the thrash.

You don’t know why. When you were a kid, it was your dad who took it out and that would always be accompanied by a series of complaints. His habit of talking to himself and to the inanimate objects around him had passed on to you. The night air chills your skin, a shiver shuddering up your spine while you struggle to keep the trash bag in the air with one hand. Your nails begin to tear the plastic and you start to walk faster.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, arm cramping. “Come on, just a little further,”

When you reach the container, you lift the bag with a heave and do a small little hip wiggle at the small victory.

Turning around you see Joel watching you with a wide smile.

You’re stunned into silence, arms and legs tingling at the thought of how stupid you must’ve looked. He’s holding a trashbag of his own. Red flannel accentuating his narrowing hips perfectly. He cocks his head to the side when you continue to stare.

“Are you always this excited after throwin’ out the thrash?” he asks, humored by your reaction.

While you think of an answer, he takes wide steps and throws out his own trash. Joel then turns to you, the only thing separating your bodies being the white picket fence.

“Let’s just say that I was happy it didn’t rip while making the trip,”

He nods while pressing his hands into his thighs, “A worthy thing to celebrate.”

You shift from one leg to another. The conversation you had with Tommy the night before echoes in your head worry clouding your chest with the question ‘did Tommy say anything?’. But you assume not when Joel takes a step back, palms sliding down his jeans like a nervous tick.

“Well then,” he clears his throat. “See you later neighbor,”

You lift your hand to wave, an early smile starts to curl over your lips. However, your half-uttered goodbye is cut short by the absurdly loud growl of your stomach.

Ah fuck.

Joel stills. Your cheeks and the tips of your ears burn. His eyes drop to your arms that are now wrapped tight around your stomach, then he lifts his gaze back up to meet yours.

“You wanna join us for dinner?” he asks, he pronounces every word slowly, reminding you of the way you whisper to animals that you don’t want to scare away. “Sarah’s makin’ her special burgers,”

“Special?” you ask back, ignoring the fact that you’ve become a charity case in a blink of an eye. “What makes them special?”

Hand sliding into his pockets, Joel gestures with his head for you to come over.

“Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x ofc #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us

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afreakingdork · 4 months

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 50

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Do not be afraid! You're alright unlike Don in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Waking had been more of a nightmare than you initially imagined. From the crust of dried fluids to the film in your mouth, extracting yourself from bed was a process of scraping the rust off old machinery. The parts needed a firm scrub with a wire brush and until you could garner that facsimile, you were grinding ancient gears. It was a stumbling affair to the bathroom, where you locked yourself in unintentionally.

Priorities askew, you randomly selected what seemed pressing from the pile and brushed your teeth. Going long over to devastate slept in plaque, you then ambled to the shower to sit under a hot stream. Head to the wall as you had seen in some movies, reenactment was the furthest of your thoughts. Your life was a satisfying one with nothing to mourn and your head was mostly empty until you got a hold of a loofa. Clearing the debris brought clarity and by the time you remembered to wash your hair, you could form thoughts for the day.

Thankful it was officially the weekend, there was late breakfast to attend to and then presumably cleaning. There had been a mishap with the souffles which had dried into the floor even if you had eaten the leftovers in a stupor. Shaking off having eaten a long cold egg dessert, your stomach hadn’t seemed to notice and you finished up. Donned in more than one fluffy towel for the sake of leisure, you came out in what you imagined was a puff of steamy smoke to find your partner still asleep.

Dropping the charade, you crept quietly and got dressed in something comfortable before going to inspect the damage. The desserts had splattered a lengthy stripe that reminded you of the sauce Donnie had once smeared on fancy dinner plates. Giving a moment of silence to fallen comrades, you wondered about the dishes until you turned to find an enormous leaking bundle in the kitchen. Remembering how Donnie had flung the candlelit dinner contents, you glowered at the package.

Without a way to move it without waking your partner, you awkwardly worked around it to grab yourself some breakfast. Emergency rations from the freezer, you gnawed on something meant for busy ease and thought over how to clean. The food smears would need minor soaking and the mess of broken dishes was best stuffed out the window if only there were a dumpster underneath.

Not so lucky on the latter’s front, you sprayed the smears of lost souffle before addressing the bundle. Sat in its sad puddle, you picked lightly at the knot Donnie had made. One of a twist like a balloon, you wiggled it a bit until it started to unravel. Thankful for cotton’s resistance to stay tied, you were slow to release the binds. With only the light clicking of broken dishware, you waited and listened to see if that was enough to wake your partner.

Finding little sound and imagining he’d groan upon waking, you were methodical in gathering up the shards. Nothing had survived the onslaught, so you doubled up on bags to trash the pieces. You then disposed of the entire bundle since it had already done your sweeping for you before returning to now softened souffle residue. Wiping it and the kitchen puddle up, you dusted your hands of the matter and went to rest.

Just as you had found a comfortable position on the couch, you heard an annoyed grunt from across the apartment. Rolling your eyes, you decided to let him have a similar morning to you. As you scrolled, Donnie made a variety of exhausted noises as the land of the conscious was thrust upon him. Repulsion came with a near gag at the state of his body and his footsteps were hurried as he disappeared into the bathroom with a similar locked latch as your own.

His shower started sooner than yours and you almost wondered if he’d brush his teeth amongst the stream. Not something you particularly cared to find out, you ended up closing your eyes and getting close to a doze by the time he emerged. Humidity changing and a clean scent announcing his reentry into the bedroom, you languished in his soap’s smell until he padded into view.

On a mission in the kitchen, he downed an entire pitcher of water before his nose tested the air. Presumably picking up on all the cleaning you’d done, he turned an exhausted, but thankful look on you. Enough to get you on your feet, you moved to greet him properly. He opened himself up as an indication that he would receive you and you buried into the faint dampness that clung to his scales.

Nuzzling into his plastron, a vibration echoed above your head and you blinked wide at the feeling.

Donnie gave a single sharp inhale.

It did nothing to stop the roiling hot tub noise.

The jets continued to rumble.

Feeling your partner’s muscles tense, he tried giving a snort to stop the onslaught. One not the trick, he gave several in quick succession that amounted to only a few hiccups amongst an ongoing churr.

You looked up at him curiously and, in doing so, the noise amplified.

In a swift move, he caught your shoulders and pushed until you were at an arm’s length.

The sound stopped.

Watching him, he studied you with a furrowed brow until he began to reel you back in.

As soon as you got into what you considered his personal space, the churr started right back up.

A tittering excitement ran through you and he shoved you back to the safe distance.

“No, no, no…” His pupils wobbled at the forefront of a spiral.

“It’s cute.” You reached up and cuffed the wrist holding you at bay.

As if tapping into the source, you felt the vibration of his churrs increase through the connection.

You giggled.

The completely wrong sound, he vanished.

“Donnie!” You called out after him and slowly tracked his disappearance.

You found him at the foot of the bed, standing with a pin pricked gaze that swam in sclera whites.

“It's okay…” You ushered, trying to break through his bothered exterior.

“I’ve lost control.” He spoke with a weighty horror.

“Slow down, it’s only been a few minutes.” You held back from getting close as you approached. “Are you up to talking about it?”

A fearful flick from him came with an unsteady in and out of breath. “What to say…?”

“Maybe… explain what a churr is exactly? I’m not sure…”

It took a moment for the information to penetrate, but when it did, he moved to look at you. “It’s a…” He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “A contented… sound as I label it.”

You tried not to let your surprise show.

You didn’t want him to read it wrong.

It wasn't the meaning.

You could surmise as much.

It was the connotation.

Your mind was unusually faster to connect the dots.

If he knew what the sound was then he’d felt it before.

It went against what you knew of his past and you weren't sure what to make of that.

“There’s a worrying amount of extrapolation. Depends on the species. Depends on the sound. Some are too low a frequency to be heard by humans. Some deny its existence. Others tout fiction.” He grit his teeth and rounded the bed for a little more distance.

Now worried you’d jumped to conclusions, you went to clear up confusion. “Have you made it before or is this from research?”

The question wounded him and he had to sit down.

You ached as you waited at the foot of the bed.

“Yes to both…”

“Donnie, I don’t want to judge, but this reaction seems…” You headed toward the window and tried not to see how he’d react. “… a little dramatic?”

“Repercussions!” A snarl escaped him before he slapped a hand over his mouth.

You twisted a hand into the curtain where you’d caught it out of nerves. “Um…”

“This!” With another snap of his teeth, he leapt backwards out of the bed and crossed the room. “Control! These emotions are connected! A precarious balancing act has been disrupted! A leak of contaminants!”

Leaning into the sheers, you pulled the fabric close as you thought. “How you were still holding back.”

“Yes.” He spat.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.” He clicked angrily before giving a bitter sigh.

Quiet, you pinched some gauze. “What did you do before?”

“When?” He inspected a dresser.

“The last time you churred.” You felt guilty having been envious of an imagined age old Donnie finding minor comfort in a blanket or something of the sort.

“A few days ago?” He retorted with a daggered edge.

You were taken aback.

His features scrunched up with his own bafflement.

You stood in a confused stand off before you both went to dispel it.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N please, it’s been happening for months.”

“Months?!”

“You’ve noticed!” He refused to take a step, but addressed you with the whole of his irritation.

“Noticed what!? You purring like a cat?! I think I’d remember something like that!”

“You didn’t-a cat?!” He hissed against his point. “You’ve said many an inane thing, but that-!”

“It literally shares the same word ending!”

“Turtles don’t have vocal cords! It’s a completely different sound!”

“I don’t know! You talk!”

“I’m a mutant!!!” He roared, throwing his hands up. “I can’t…” He shriveled around his rage. “I can’t do this…” Dropping with abject terror, he bolted for the partition between the bedroom and living.

“Donnie, wait-!” You made it a few steps before the wrap of the curtain held you back. “Damnit!”

A green hand appeared and helped uncoil you.

“Donnie!” You turned on him, but he stumbled away before falling over.

“Stop!” He held his hands up as if you were attacking him.

“It’s okay…” You dropped down to your knees and methodically placed your hand to the ground in a non-threatening way. “It’s okay. I'm not chasing. I'm not going to do anything. I just…”

His eyes flew around your figure and he had one fist raised nervously to his chest.

“You can go. If that’s what you need to do, that’s fine.”

“But…?!” He flared at your silence.

“That’s it.”

“That can’t be it! This is the part where… where…” His mind stumbled over his thoughts and he was left swinging his gaze back and forth as if reading the broken repeating letter on a typewriter.

“I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through. Even with everything I’ve seen; I don’t know anything. Nothing at all. I don’t know what you mean by months. I don’t. I wasn’t trying to stop you. I just.. Didn't want you to leave like that. Not running away. I wanted you to know that I’m here for when you're ready and it's okay if you need time.”

“You’re…” He hinged and threw his palms up to press into his eyes. Grunting, he smacked his head a ruthless few times and you helplessly reached you. You couldn't stop the strikes and he slowed only to give a heaved breath. “I need to move.”

“Go. It’s okay. I promise.”

“I’m coming back.”

“I know.”

“Y/N.” He inched back a bit before righting himself.

“Yes?”

“I’m coming back.”

“Donnie, I know. I’m not worried.”

Raised to his knees, he stared and you gave him an encouraging nod.

He took it as strength which he transferred to his legs. Standing a little off balance, he stumbled one step before you watched his legs tensed to leave. Lowering your gaze in case that was keeping him in place, you moved to stand yourself. Coming up found a green foot and a prosthetic still standing across from you and you kept your eyes glued to the floor as you retreated further into the bedroom.

You made it one step before he was around you in a bracing hug from behind.

Only touching a hand to his forearms in return, you felt him give over to a full body churr.

He let it linger until he had to growl himself out of it and in a whoosh of air he was gone.

Waiting a few stale minutes just in case he changed his mind, you trailed to the kitchen to shut the window he’d run from. Leaving it unlocked, you surveyed the kitchen and how it was still clean. He hadn’t gotten to eat and you hoped he’d grab something while out. Knowing that unlikely due to him having disappeared in sweatpants, you sighed and trailed the empty apartment.

Feeling the yearn of movement yourself, there wasn’t anything to do. Having already cleaned and you listlessly walked the apartment without an outlet. Hopeless with a lack thereof, you ended up sitting on your side of the bed. Across from you stood the dresser that Donnie momentarily ran to and you watched a phantom memory of him flinch away from his own anger.

He’d compared his emotions to a leaking package. It didn’t sit right with you, but it felt like a moot point. You thought otherwise. You thought he was making progress. He’d seemed like he was on a steady incline to happiness. Each day he opened up for what you considered his true purpose.

He’d also mentioned otherwise more than once.

He considered you the anomaly and this trend of happiness to not be the true him.

You could have sworn the opposite was revealed, but right now you weren’t sure. You almost felt a form of shock. His set back had occurred without warning. You knew progress wasn’t linear. You knew that there was no inevitability to healing. You knew that each day was simply to be taken in whatever form it could, but that was all knowledge and not done in practice.

When the time came, you’d belittled his meltdown.

Head sinking, the moment of you calling his feelings silly replayed like a haunt.

You deserved the torment of it and swore to yourself that’d be your first apology.

Had you even tried to get through to him?

He’d lashed out, but he’d also be undeniably scared.

You’d registered those emotions and then swiftly undermined them.

Swirling in that distress, you got to your feet.

You needed something in your hands.

Something tangible to manipulate.

You opened a dresser drawer.

In it, you’d never actually put everything back to the way it had been prior to Donnie mixing it up. The system didn't really matter, but for the sake of it, you moved to reorganize. It meant methodically emptying each cabinet and repiecing the collection, but it was better than sitting around berating yourself.

In the grand scheme, it was another known fact that was easy to say and harder to exercise.

Things got messy.

You both were bound to make mistakes.

Neither of you were perfect.

Your underwear had been split between three drawers as of current and you filed them into a tidy row to all go into one.

What mattered was how you handled it.

Things could get heated, but it was how you moved forward that mattered.

As Mikey had said, you could only try to be better.

Scooping up a heavy load of winter clothes that should have been more readily accessible considering the month, you set down the stack only to graze something square. Any oddity in what should have only been cloth, you dismantled the stack to find a rectangular bulge folded up in a holiday sweater. Something ugly once purchased for a party, you unfurled the garment to find a pristine looking white apparel box.

Something you imagined was for fancy dress shirts, you slid your fingers along the edge to find it wasn’t taped shut. Deciding it wasn’t a gift and since it was amongst your clothes, you lifted the lid to find finely folded tissue paper. Another marker of a high price tag, you took care in peeling back the billowy edges. Undressing the wrapping in what felt like a literal sense, you revealed a large swatch of what looked like purple satin. Running a finger over the item found it to be much smoother than you anticipated.

Digit halting, it almost seemed like it was silk and your hand lifted at the possibility. Not knowing how to check, you looked the box over to find it offered no indication of its contents. That meant you’d have to pick whatever this was up and the thought that you could be intruding on something else of Donnie’s reared your head. His gifts weren’t ever something you’d stumbled upon before and it seemed unlike him to have hidden a gift amongst your possessions, let alone ones you would need considering the weather.

Caught though you were vaguely aware you were talking yourself into it, you ghosted over the fabric until you found the top edge. Something that felt like a hem, you pinched at it and finally lifted the object to find out what it was. Having revealed a row of clasps, you turned the garment around to find a sort of skimpy corset. Not traditional of anything you’d seen before, it was the shape of it that caused your head to jar.

With a faint curve to its top edge, it was clear this wasn’t meant to accentuate the chest. It would probably skim across your collar and seemed more for creating a sharp waistline. As it went down, it curved further inward until it tapered into two half moons before finishing up with a squared bottom. The whole created a nearly identical shape to Donnie’s plastron.

Much shorter and something that would absolutely not even reach your mons, you held the garment further away as a blush took your face. It was such an oddly specific creation that it seemed made for you. Eyes flicking down to the box, you saw more traditional lingerie of silk and accompanying lace. An entire set, you traded to the corset for lacy strips and found them to be crotchless underwear. Layer after embarrassing layer, you then found nylon which you identified as thigh highs hooked to what had to be a garter belt. Reaching the end of the ensemble, you revealed a folded slip of paper.

Nabbing it with an anxious ferocity, you flipped the card open.

Might as well lean into the interspecies freak -Coral

Slamming the lid back on the box, a memory sucker punched you.

Two housewarming presents. You gotta find ‘em but when you do you’ll know.

You’d completely forgotten.

You'd found the astronaut, but forgot there was another.

Dropping to squat on the floor, you were torn between rage and mortification.

It had been months.

Did Coral even remember?

Knowing her, she surely did.

You probably hadn't put it together as she hoped, but you’d also found it at the worst possible time.

Rising up in a flurry that stung your knees, you made quick work of burying the set back into its box. Clear and hopefully having not messed it up, you messily folded it back into the ugly sweater before shoving it back into its stack. Toppling all the folded clothes in the process, you groaned loudly as you were forced to slow down. Humiliation setting in, you took your time in the second go around and properly snuck the gift where it had once been. From the outside its placement was unrecognizable and you wondered if Donnie had found it in his clothing shuffle.

Remembering your boyfriend, you stopped short of the wardrobe laid out on your bed.

Was it okay to forget that you wronged him?

Stewing didn’t feel good, but moving on from the subject entirely didn’t feel like the correct route either.

Keeping him in mind like a screensaver, you returned to your original task. With everything laid out, it took less time to put it back where it belonged. The physicality of the space in order, it did little for your mental state. Not something you expected to have been fixed by this anyway, there was a faint sense of accomplishment that you allowed yourself.

Carrying it along, you moved to the living room and threw something familiar on the TV. Animated for your comfort, you watched it for a tepid relief and found it a sort of balm. For turning the unnecessary off, it helped. By the time the credits rolled, you felt little pangs of hunger and remembered you’d eaten the definition of a breakfast on the go. Not balanced and of a low calorie count, you approached a cabinet with the intent to prepare something.

Thinking Donnie could have some when he got back, you pulled out a slow cooker as nothing seemed pressing. Readying ingredients in a lull of silence, you listened to how the knife sliced. A different sound and sensation for whatever ingredient, you threw things into the pot and then added various liquid and spices. Already smelling like a meal, you turned the dial on, placed a lid overtop, and left it to properly simmer. Approaching the late afternoon light streaming through the window, you cracked it and had a final thought that maybe the smell would welcome him back.

Scrolling turned into an impromptu nap and you awoke to the faintest creak of a jamb. Blinking in registration that someone had entered your apartment, you found Donnie’s back to you as he slid the window closed. Framed by darkness, he lingered there and you let the scents of the crock pot wash over you. Sitting up, you rubbed an eye and wondered if you should welcome him back.

He turned and his movement hitched as he saw you.

You rose your hand in a sort of wave.

His gaze dropped along with your heart.

Did he hold it against you?

Stopping the trickle of nerves in your chest, you threw your legs off the side of the couch.

“Smells good.” Donnie spoke, soft and unsure.

“Wanted something easy.” You shrugged, not sure whether to commit.

You heard him give a little hum of agreement.

Did you let it be?

He’d needed time.

He wasn’t ready.

“Donnie-”

“Y/N-”

You both stared openly at one another before smiles grew on your faces. The commonality of you both breaking the ice at the same time had you moving and he went to meet you. Stopping short to prevent the dreaded churr, you gave him an obvious once over. Not necessarily dirty, he had a winter’s musk to him that said he’d been outside a majority of the day.

“Are you cold?” You asked first.

“I’d like to shower.” He seemed almost bashful. “I may have reconstructed a small city's worth of air conditioning units… “

You couldn't help but smile at the image. “Go ahead. Want me to get a bowl ready for you?”

“Please.” He gave a nod that was nearly a bow and excused himself.

Thinking your hunger was still faint, you set his bowl aside for closer to when he’d emerge and scooped yourself up some dinner. Eating it right there, standing in the kitchen, you listened to the faint sounds of water hitting his shell. A vision of him exhausted and letting the heat melt into his sore muscles.

Thinking of the labor he'd put himself through, you lounged in a pinup of him in messy coveralls until you heard the sound of water shift. Scooping out a steaming bowl and stirring the potted mixture to prevent further sticking, Donnie emerged in what you considered his comfort outfit. Not for eye candy, but a full body safety blanket of coverage with baggy sweats and a matching hoodie, he’d approached and you held out his bowl to him. He took it, a utensil, and almost seemed to not know what to do next until he decided to plop down on the couch. There he examined his fork, a tine at a time, before he worked on getting a bite with a little bit of everything.

A culmination, your lips parted in a miming as the meal entered his mouth. Closing around it and a subtraction of his utensil, he sat there with a heated mixture surely burning his tongue. He gave a chuff, remembered himself, and finally picked up eating at a ravenous pace. Consuming yours languidly and watching him from the kitchen, he cleaned his plate before getting up with obvious intent. Moving out of the way, he ladled himself another full portion and scarfed it down right in front of you.

“Careful.” You mused, trying to curtail your smile.

He gave a dismissive grunt as he filled his third bowl.

Finishing yours as he was losing steam, you let him be as you left the kitchen. Immediately faced with a choice of the living room or bedroom, you waffled. It was all pleasantries and as much as you disliked it, you wanted to give him the space he needed to process. Your regrets not nearly as important, you decided farthest was best and flittered toward the partition.

“Y/N.” Donnie addressed just as you were about to pass the threshold.

“Yes?” You slowed and gave a half turn.

“Would you-” He swallowed. “-Could we…?”

Making a full rotation, you faced him.

His gaze fell and he looked ashamed. “Were you… going to bed?”

“No.”

He squirmed in place. “Bathroom?”

“No.” You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Something… else?”

“Do you want me to?”

“To?” He shyly met your gaze.

“Be busy. You don’t have to force yourself.”

“That’s not…” He tapered off with a whiny noise in his throat.

“What do you need, Don? Please tell me.”

“Talk. We should… talk.” Flinging his head to the top right, a faint annoyance twitched his lips. “I haven’t prepared to but we should.”

“Donnie, you-”

“No.” His eyes closed. “No avoidant behavior. No indulging me further. I’m… a mess. I don’t… want you to see me like this.” He sneered.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” You took a tentative step forward.

“I’m worried about snapping at you, hurting you. My disposition. These… feelings that are still… vicious.” He made a swirling gesture. “I haven't recaptured them.”

“Container, capture, control, it reminds me of something cartoonish.”

He looked at you with tinged distress.

“Not you.” You clarified. “There’s this trope where someone has to rush to clean up a room so they shove everything into the closet. It looks clean, right? But everything is only shoved out of sight.”

Donnie didn’t react, but you could tell he tracked you as you inched forward.

“There’s always this inevitable moment where the closet opens and everything falls out. There was no way it could stay like that. Those things need to be dealt with.”

“They were.”

You perked up at his voice.

“It was fine… I was…” He looked at you, his lips moving to say something, but his expression broke. “It wasn’t, was it?”

You shook your head, feeling a weepiness seize your throat.

“This is a dangerous change. I’ve explained.” He rounded the kitchen counter, but held onto it like a tether. “I’ve shown enough weakness, going out with you. Openly…” He hesitated before worry pinched his gaze. “Laughing, smiling, I’m sure channels have been alerted. You’re at risk. I’m…”

“When will you be allowed to be you?”

“I won’t.” He sighed as if those were the two words he’d been dreading all along. “I never will. I can get as close as I’m allowed, but there will never be true peace.”

“The churring-”

“Well broken. A final straw. You are incredible.” He was in motion towards you.

You wanted to catch him, but flexed your fists.

He looked over them fondly. “You make me…” A smile broke through his discomfort as he encircled one of your hands.

Near immediately, you heard a rumble waft off of him.

He brought your appendage up and pressed it near his larynx where it vibrated against your hand.

“You are my peace. You set me at ease. I can’t help it. Your being satiates mine.” Catching your other hand, he brought it up for a kiss.

“You said months?”

He smiled into your hand and rubbed it against his cheek. “The sound would start and I would cut it off.”

“I never noticed.”

“You’d look at me…” He studied you with a much more even gaze than the last time this was brought up. “There’d be twitches. You’d feel it.”

“I’m sorry, it must have been involuntary. I didn’t actually know…”

Taking your truth, he gave a saddened smile. “I’d been concerned.”

“About me noticing?”

“Its imminent arrival. It was getting harder to offset. You giving it voice was how I imagined it loosed.”

“’What’s that sound?’”

Closing his eyes, he buried into your hand for what you could feel was your scent. It turned up the volume of his ever-present churr.

“You’re getting better at talking around it.” You stepped a little closer and he accommodated.

“What choice do I have?” He gave a faint groan.

“Think this is like touch before?”

Languishing in your palm, he stubbornly fought to look at you.

“You’re holding back right. Could it be like when we first started touching? If you give into it maybe…?”

“That poses a dangerous precedent.”

“I’m not dismissing that I just-oh!” You pulled free of him only to grab his face. “Donnie, I’m so sorry!”

“W-why?” He stuttered around both his rumbling churr and his face being squished.

“I told you that you were being dramatic! You weren’t! I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t forget this relationship stuff is new to you and it's hard… You’re… You’re such a good partner.” You gave a teary chuckle. “I know, but because of that I sometimes forget.”

He forced his head through your hands so he could properly smile. “Thank you.”

You nodded.

Tucking his fingers into yours he languidly stroked your hold. “You were saying?”

“… That…?”

“Precedent.”

“You really can’t have both?”

“Both?”

“Being able to express yourself how you want without danger.”

“Both…”

“That’s two things.”

“Peace and freedom.” He specified.

“Yes.”

He gave what was almost a sigh and mulled it over. “A herculean effort with no true end. There is no fleeing the choices I’ve made.”

Your gaze dropped.

“They made me. For better or worse. No atonement.”

You gave a single nod.

“United, that falls onto you.”

Looking at him, you smoothed his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Marriage and what comes after. If our family increases. I will never be able to truly let my guard down.”

You stilled.

“Do you still choose me?”

Your lips parted with an instant confirmation, but his thumb pressed into the plump to silence you.

“Think. You’re overly familiar with the repercussions and I can assure you that you’ve only seen a small sampling. Worse may never come, but that doesn’t mean the possibility is nigh.”

His digit held.

“I know your immediate answer. I want you to consider it another way.”

You fluttered your lashes as a go ahead.

“I’m asking if you’ll accept this is what you’ll get of me. You have the whole of me, but you will never see it. You’ll come close and that is a finality.”

He released and you sat with parted lips as his words sank in.

With a little shimmy, he got out of your slack grasp and left you to think.

Hearing him clatter in the kitchen, you knew he was putting dinner away and you finally continued your trek into the bedroom. Sitting on your side of the bed, you looked out at the dresser, now rearranged. In its new old format, it felt a strange comparison to what you’d been told. An unplaced feeling, it was neither sad nor disappointing. A strange fact of life, it was almost something finally given definition that you’d been carrying all along. Settled with its now known knowledge, you felt there were too many running themes.

Donnie approached his side of the bed behind you and you turned.

“Will you stop churring?”

He gave it honest thought. “I will need to find a way to curtail it at every touch.” He rolled his eyes. “What special meaning does something constant have?”

“You're kidding?”

He watched you.

“It’s my second favorite sound!”

“Oh?” He got a knee up on the bed.

“I don’t want to name the first. Someone told me that if I asked about certain noises then there'll be an escape.”

“Sounds like something a moron would tout.” He crawled over to you.

“Can I hug you?”

“Now I know that dummy has clarified this.”

“Part of me will always ask if I remember. To be sure you know it’s always a choice.”

He churred sweetly before reaching you and wrapped you up in his arms.

“It sounds different.” You nuzzled into him and he took you to the sheets.

“I have theories forming.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You’re all nonsense.” He squeezed and you squeaked with a giggle. “You might not have realized, understandably, but today’s noises have been different than yesterdays.”

“When we were having sex?”

He nodded into your hair.

“Does it mean something else?”

“Do you remember what I told you about turtle language?”

“It’s not specific.”

“It’s emotions.”

“You described it as contentment.”

“Imagine it as a word with different meanings based on connotation.”

You wiggled free enough to see his face and brought a hand to his throat. “What's this one say?”

“Content with the sprinkling of desire.”

“Last night?”

He clicked his tongue. “More intangible. There was a certain distracting fog, but devotion and lust.”

You stroke his Adam’s apple. “Clicking is angry. Chirps probably have the most meanings. There’s those squeaky sounds that are usually surprise, but sometimes fear.”

“Very good.” He brushed his lips to your temple.

“Teach me?”

“Am I not?”

“To do it. I want to be able to respond.”

His gaze widened. “Y/N…”

“I've done it before… I… It was something like…” It had been quite a while and done in a stupor, but you summoned your throat as best you could and gave the greeting trill.

The response popped out of him and both of you stared at one another, stupefied.

He rolled you over to crush and you laughed beneath him.

Plied with kisses, you got through a nightly routine glued to one another before resuming the same snuggle where Donnie ran you through chirp after chirp trying to capture some nuance that you weren’t sure your human vocal cords alone were capable of. Growing drowsy, but still giving faint squeaks, he hushed you with a soothing churr that went straight to your eyelids. Lulling them and coaxing you to sleep, you were just about to let go of consciousness when you heard human speech.

“I love you.”

Whispered near silent, he unwound to sleep of his own.

Still adrift, it meant your heart rate couldn’t spike and, though your whole body rallied against it, sleep had you in its hold. Wanting to savor his proclamation even a second more, you waged a mental battle that only allowed you a single prize before granting you a merciful end.

A clarity.

A now known unknown.

He’d been doing this every night in secret for what had to be as long as he’d been churring.

Going into the new year still thankful for my best betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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maple-the-awesome · 7 months

Text

While the Night is Young ||

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Words: 2,079

Requested by anonymous: Can I have a sad fic with Legend (LU) reminiscing about dancing with the reader on koholint? he's my fav so he has to suffer 😞 One mildly depressed Legend coming your way because everyone knows the first rule to being in a fandom is enjoying watching your favorite characters suffer go through character development 💜

Zelda Masterlist 💛 Fandom Masterlist

Crowds are never much fun. Who actually likes being sandwiched between sweaty bodies, constantly elbowed, stepped on, or tossed around by obvious idiots who only ever react with a half hearted apologies? It makes such a simple task like walking down the street a total nightmare, although there might be a good exception for it today given that it’s currently the summer solstice festival in this quaint little village the boys have recently stumbled across.

After many long days on the road, most could understand the heroes’ excitement upon seeing the then bare streets lined with wooden stalls and colorful banners overhead. A local explained the situation, promising plenty of fun games and unique carnival foods if the group decided to stay overnight when the festivities would begin. At that point, there was little choice in the matter. Seeing the expressed joy on many of the youngsters’ faces (a great contrast to their original wear earlier), Time just had to give in to their pleas, agreeing that a deserved break could do them some good.

So, as the sky began to mirror the colors of summer, from bright reds to pinkish purples, the once empty stalls began to open and the streets became filled with residents, many more than what was expected for such a small village.

Wind and Sky, determined to win their loved ones some adorable stuffed animals, have been taken to blowing all their rupees at different game booths. Four and Warrior, on the other hand, have made a full on competition of this activity, betting who can win the most games by the end of the night. They managed to drag Hyrule into the fun, too, but only because of his utter amazement with everything going on (after all, he’s never seen any festivals quite like this before).

Wild couldn’t show any restraint when teased by so many wonderful smelling foods, in fact he had already snuck away for something called a ‘corn dog’ before Time could even finish laying down the ground rules for how everyone was expected to behave. Fortunately, Twilight has since stayed close to his mentee’s side to prevent any disasters like Wild poisoning himself or setting fire somewhere. He also may or may not have allowed himself to be roped into trying some very questionable and overpriced snacks (but Twilight won’t admit that for the sake of his own dignity).

As for the Old Man himself, he seems to simply find joy in everyone else’s from afar, although overtime, a few of the boys have managed to get him directly involved in festivities, particularly Wind who insisted Time tries winning Malon an adorable stuffed alien from a shooting game (he succeed on his first attempt followed by many other effortless wins once he got addicted, much to the little sailor’s awe and jealousy).

The only hero to not partake in any aspect of the festival is Legend. Interestingly enough, such a colorful celebration has actually seemed to have the opposite effect on him compared to his brothers, resulting in quite the sour mood shown through his bitter scowl as he stands outside the crowd’s reach.

He curses himself for even bothering to leave the inn earlier, only having done so to shut up Warrior’s claims about him ‘pouting’ as he’s apparently been doing this entire week…Okay, so maybe Legend can internally admit that he hasn’t been exactly ‘overflowing with friendliness’ lately, but he refuses to say it’s because he’s ‘pouting’; that makes him sound childish. He’s not pouting, he’s sulking (big difference) and it has nothing to do with this festival. He just doesn’t care to lose the entire contents of his wallet to rigged games and food poisoning on a buttered stick, that’s all!

If that’s the case, one would think he’d just sneak back to the inn already. No one’s keeping him here on a leash, in fact most of the boys are too busy losing their patience playing ring toss to even notice whether Legend stays or goes. Why continue to stand around being unsociable in the background, grumbling against a wall as others clap and tap their feet to a melody currently played by musicians near the village fountain ahead, especially when it’s making him so grumpy?

“Don’t you just love music? It’s almost too beautiful to be real - at least I think so anyway.”

Legend glances to his side, curling his lip in poorly mocked disgust that earns him the undeserved gift of an angel’s laughter. Even after all these years of developing tough skin, he can’t stand strong against such a sound.

“Oh, don’t be like that! I’ve seen you playing some of those instruments of yours, so you must be a fan. How many do you own? Must be enough to open your own music shop by now,” You tease, your voice somehow becoming the only sound around him despite all those who stand practically shoulder-to-shoulder in front of you both singing and laughing loudly…yet even you pay no attention to them, your eyes locked solely on him as if he’s actually someone special.

“I don’t have that many.”

“Well, as someone who doesn’t even have one, I’d say it’s a lot,” You’ve never bothered with personal space, too used to knowing everyone to wonder why it would be important, thus you’ve always practiced the same beliefs around him, showing no care as you lean against the wall next him, letting your arms brush enough to make him flinch at first before ultimately relaxing.

“Is it because you’re shy? I mean, you have no reason to be since you play wonderfully, but I still get it if you are,” You theorize aloud, still stuck on the same topic Legend wishes you’d change. Surely there’s other things you’d be interested in aside from his personal life. He’s only a simple traveler, after all, although the more he thinks about it, that’s probably what appeals to you so much. He imagines it’s rough being stuck in one place your entire life, never knowing much about what lies beyond the horizon until a strange, stranger washes up at your feet.

“I’m not shy,” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away from you when he decides eye contact is too bothersome, “I just like my privacy.”

You tilt your head cutely with a hum before gazing back into the crowd (much to his relief). For a long moment, you keep your eyes closed and listen to the music, waiting to break the comfortable silence between you both until the song changes into something slower and more intimate than the previous, “...Do you at least dance in front of others?”

“Dance?” He scoffs.

“Yes, dance! You know, that activity where you move your body to a particular rhyme? The thing Hylians usually do for fun? …Or are you unfamiliar with that word, ‘fun’?”

“I know it.”

“Oh, do you now?” You challenge, leaning forward in an attempt to catch his expression, yet he turns his body away while biting back his smirk which surely mirrors yours; he can hear it in your voice, “Show me then.”

“Show you?” He laughs, “What? You can’t just trust me?”

“Nope,” You pop the ‘p’ then roll your eyes when Legend dramatically grabs his chest and flops his head back against the stone wall (something he does with more force than intended, yet he forgets about the pain quickly).

“I’m hurt! Here I was thinking I’ve moved on from being a hostile in your eyes only for weeks of effort to swirl down the drain -!”

“- You’re not a hostile, just an idiot,” You push yourself off the wall and extend a hand to him, “Regardless, I’m afraid I’ll need a demonstration in order to believe you.”

Legend glances at your hand, biting down his nerves which he prays you don’t notice. It really is a simple request and it’s not like you’d both be alone. Other couples are already dancing, some showing creatively in how wildly they move while others move slowly as if joint as one…It shouldn’t be a big deal to take your hand, but for some reason it is, the thought making his heart race.

“Please, Link?”

Your eyes are pleading and soon he finds himself too weak to ignore them anymore. Reluctantly, he accepts your hand and puts up no further fight as you then eagerly drag him into the crowd.

Standing amongst all these people, Legend finds himself a bit bashful, wondering if perhaps this is going to be a mistake because surely if anyone notices you together, they’ll mention it later on and he’ll be forced to question exactly what this interaction means, but that’ll have to be a worry for later. Once you find a suitable spot close to the music, you turn around with a bright smile which is plenty to convince him it’s too late to back out; he’s already in too deep.

And so you both dance. Your hands placed upon his shoulders, his delicately holding your hips. You’re clearly no stranger to this art form, moving perfectly in sync with the rhythm while guiding Legend to do the same. He, himself, has danced plenty of times before during his journeys, but with you it feels different. It feels more special and natural with you as his partner. There’s a slowness to the world, one he feels all too often when in your presence yet this time, it’s amplified. He truly hears nothing from the crowd. Even the music is a distant echo completely overshadowed by your beauty as you sparkle under the colored lights above.

Legend normally isn’t one to let others close, often keeping them at arm's length in fear that nothing good will come from making friends, especially friends who he meets during his travels. You shouldn’t be different. He met you only weeks ago and isn’t quite sure how ‘visiting’ will work considering he ended up here by total accident. Despite every rational thought telling him he shouldn’t be getting his hopes up towards you, it’s all ignored when you allow him to twirl you around with ease until you return right back in front of him, the difference being you’re now closer, pressed against his chest instead of being kept at arm's length.

You’re intoxicating. Like an alcoholic who treasures his last beer bottle, Legend can’t seem to let you go. He can only find himself smiling in a dazed sort of way - dazed by you simply being you as you slip your hands down to his chest and rest your head upon his shoulder.

“...Can I say something that might sound weird?”

“Everything you say is weird.”

Despite his teasing tone, you move your head off his shoulder to look into his eyes with such a gentle smile that, for a second, he’s convinced he’ll melt, “I’m really happy you washed up on our shore. I…really like having you around.”

“I -...” The words feel trapped in his throat, wanting so desperately to be said as you wait patiently for some kind of response. He knows you won’t mind not getting one since you understand him as being the quiet type anyways, but regardless, “...I like being here with you, too.”

You beam - like a sun rising over the ocean, your eyes lit up and your smile glows. It not only means the world for you to hear that from the man who’s always been so reserved around you, but it’s also important for him to say himself. He really likes you. You’ve quickly become the music in his life - the rhythm he wants to forever move to and melody he wants to forever cherish. He’d be fine if you keep resting your head against him, humming along to the song that’ll forever haunt his mind…That’s how he wishes things had stayed.

In reality, he had remained silent that evening and for all those following, refusing an answer you unfortunately never pushed for. Maybe you already knew, maybe you didn’t, however neither outcome changes his inner desire for you nor the pain he feels every day without you by his side. He’s not sure what hurts the most anymore: the fact that you’re gone or the fact that you never existed to begin with. Now, he’ll never get to hold you again, never get a chance to swallow his fears and just confess his feelings to see how you would’ve reacted. All he gets is this agonizing memory that haunts him anytime he hears festival music similar to that night he spent with you during that summer solstice on Koholint…

#x reader #reader insert #lu legend x reader #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe

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