#oh well. time to get under my weighted blanket and get real small | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stayandot8 · 10 months

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For Your Eyes Only

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: Hiiiiiiiii I'm back! I've been so stuck with real life things that I haven't really been writing anything but my series and then I saw this in my ideas an it kinda just all hit me at once so I just wrote it down and now it's yours. I hope you haven't missed me too much ;) Hopefully part 3 of JOY will be done soon and I can give it to you, I'm dying to get it done and post it so you can see where I want to take it. But anyways, here's this one. I hope you like it. ♥

WC: 1.2k

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“No, everything’s fine. It’s fine.” He would start with himself every few minutes, repeating those same words over and over until he would fall silent again. The screen on my phone had long since blackened out, lucky for my boyfriend that my phone had been charging all night for exactly this occasion. He was always working while he was away, the occasional clicking of his keyboard the only sign of life on the other side of the static. He never took a break, never sat still long enough unless he was required to.

“Chris, didn’t you just get off stage?” My voice was groggy, being the middle of the night in my time zone starting to weigh on my eyelids more and more the longer we talked. The silk of my own sheets had grown foreign, unfamiliar compared to the worn, cotton sheets of Chan’s bed. I practically lived over there now, half his dresser drawers had my things in them. His shared bathroom had four drawers next to the sink, which now held Chan’s hairbrush and my collection of face masks that he liked to do with me. My toothbrush was kept in a travel case tucked in with a small hairbrush of my own, kept safely away from Chan’s serums and vitamins he needed to keep himself healthy.

“You know the only reason I ever slow down is because you force me to. I don’t feel like I can unless I’m being told to by a very pretty girl who threatens to sit on me unless I step away from my computer. Not that I would mind that…” His voice trails off, his lingering suggestiveness sending shivers straight down my back.

“Well, unfortunately I’m not there to threaten you to sleep. I’m stuck behind this device that lets me talk to you when you’re so far from me.” I tucked my blanket even further under my chin, itching for the comfort of his warmth while settling for the empty space.

“Yes, how dare you be so far from me.” Hearing his smile through his words was the only way I knew he was okay. With all his work piling up all the time, it was the little things I had to look for as signals.

“Why are you working right now if you just got off stage though, baby? Come lay down with me.”

“What were you saying before? Why were you saying everything’s fine?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before, you kept saying everything’s fine, that it was okay.”

“Oh, did I? I didn’t even notice. Don’t worry about it, it’s…”

“FIne?”

A pause. “Yeah.” He sighed, deflating.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Talk to me?” A longer pause.

“I just don’t want to dump it all on you. It’s my weight to carry, not yours.”

“You might think that but that’s not how I feel. That’s what a partnership is. Your bullshit is my bullshit, so to speak. And my bullshit is your bullshit. Do you feel like I’m dumping on you when I tell you what’s happening at work?”

“No, not at all. I love when you tell me that stuff.”

“Exactly. So lay it all on me. Let me carry some of your bullshit. Or else you’ll be crushed by the weight of it. Please? I want to hear it. It helps me feel close to you when I can’t be right there with you all the time. I want it all, I want the good stuff and the bad stuff. Show me everything. Every bad thought, everything you couldn’t and can’t show anyone else. That’s what I'm here for.”

This silence was different, like he was collecting his thoughts to finally let them tumble out.

“It’s just hard, ya know? Sometimes it feels like it’s all on me. Like our success depends just on me. And I know it doesn’t, but sometimes it feels like that.” And on and on he went, telling me about the depth of the weight on his shoulders, how his relationships have been suffering because of it. His parents always tell him how proud they are, but it never quite feels the same.

“I miss them, so much it hurts me when they call. But I barely have time to talk because of the amount of work piling up. The public decisions that need to be made, the tracks that still need to be done, things it feels like only I can do so it’s only on me.”

“You haven’t told any of them this, have you.” It wasn’t a question, really. I knew he wouldn’t because-

“No, I don’t want them to have to worry about this stuff.” There it is.

“Baby, you can’t keep all of this to yourself though. They’re grown adults, they can handle it. You have to trust them enough to know that. They’ve asked, haven’t they? I know they have. Let them carry some of the load. It may have started as your group, you may have put it together but it’s all of yours now. It’s time to share the responsibility, Chris. It’s okay. You’re allowed to lighten your load, even if it’s bit by bit.”

He took a deep inhale and let it out. “If I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you.”

“It’s where you belong.”

“You’re like the other half of me that got taken and then just put into another person. I'm only at this comfort level with you." I heard the sheets rustle as he finally laid down. I smiled at that thought.

“I’m missing half of me when we’re apart.”

“And it makes me sad, my love.”

“Just get through this next month and then we’ll take a week off and go anywhere you want, just the two of us.” It was a nice idea, knowing he would agree then it wouldn’t happen because he would get bored and start working again anyways. But I could dream.

“Yeah, I’d like to explore around here some more if I could. Take pictures of everything I would want to show you and send them to you. You’d love it here.”

“Where are you guys again?”

“Jakarta.”

‘Well, if you do get a day off there, find something you can bring home. Add it to my ever-growing collection.” I glanced over at my own dresser, filled with trinkets of things he would bring back for me from every place he went for work. Little figurines, patches of beautiful cloth, necklaces and chains with pendants attached all scattered the top. I had made a new open spot for whatever he would bring me this time, not knowing how big or long of a space it would need.

“I’ve already got it for you. I think you’re really going to love it.” His voice was getting deeper now, his words becoming slower as they reached my ears.

“Oh yeah? Are you going to tell me anything else or do I have to guess?”

“I’m not telling you anything, you’re just going to have to be patient.” The smirk was palpable through the speaker of my phone. I shook my head as much as I could with my cheek flat against my pillow.

“You’re so rude.”

“I miss you too.”

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mslanna · 2 months

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The Devil Wears Nada

Chapter 6 of A Mortifying Ordeal ow up on AO3

Just a regular morning getting ready for a convention. Difficulty level: naked devil (IYKYK, it's a great mod.)

Strangely I wake before the alarm sounds which is in itself alarming. 'Specially 'cause I don't feel tired much. The world is warm and heavy and for a sleepy moment I wonder ifn I'm back home – tucked under my weighted blanket, forgot to turn down the heating overnight. But nah. My blankie doesn't breathe.

Reality rushes at me fast enough to give me whiplash. Oh dear. So that really happened. All of it. My face burns hotter than the rest of me which is already simmering. For hating sweating, this is surprisingly okay. Prolly because the heat is caused by devil man lying on top of me like the best weighted blankie ever.

So he's still here. Gotta put that on my small victories list. Last thing I do before blacking out is asking him to stay and he does. Gotta remember that. He feels so good. Solid. And, believe it or not, tucked my hands up on his back with his wings. I love it, let my fingers trace the joint of his wings.

"Do you always take this long to get going?" The words breathe into my ear soft and teasing. Unfortunately, he props himself up after that.

"Only when I'm comfortable."

That got a smile from him. Indulgent if I'm a judge of that.

Wanna drown in his eyes. Wanna caress that skin until it's time for bed again. Want to run my greedy hands over those swirls of ridges and smattering of hair. I tug my hands free and cup his face. An actual real devil. In my bed. Well. Whatever his plan was, as amazing as things have been, no presumed memories manifested.

Is it okay to treat your one night stand like a boyfriend? On the other hand, when will I ever get another chance? He doesn't react to the slight tugging, so I rear up and kiss him softly. "So, what's next?"

"I could ask you the same." Raphael rises and while the view is spectacular, I'm suddenly very cold and lonely. Something pinches between my legs because, however I had managed that feat, I fell asleep with cum seeping out of me. Must have been really knackered and happy.

My memory soars up and yeh, totes out of everything with bliss. Will miss the devil. Better get it over with. "I need to shower and see if I can grab a bite before breakfast closes." Running my hands through my hair. "And then I dress up again and return to the convention."

"You looked lost there," Raphael remarks and he's no wrong.

"Yesterday was the first day and I didn't know anybody. But today people will be back and now I know them."

"And you know me." Should get a licence for that smirk. Goes right to impolite regions it does.

I smile. "They know not I knew thee-"

I stop. Prolly not wise to quote Byron at the devil. "So, what about you? While I think there's some rather desperate people at every con, I don't think it's the richest pickings around here."

"I think I already have the richest pick." That red prick replies.

And I blush because of course, kind words are more embarrassing than lying buck naked before the devil with a cum-crusted cunt. At least this finally gets me going. Beeline to the shower is blocked by devil incarnate. I dare not run into him. The delays! Also, I'd like to be able to walk today.

"Sweet-talking won't get you anything you didn't have already." Trying to be suave and flirty here.

"That is where you err." He catches my chin between his fingers and smiles a kiss over my lips. He sure ain't got no problem with the rammies of being late.

But I got self-discipline, and the smithereen of that I cling to gets me into the bathroom. There's a worrisome moment where I think he might stick around and watch. Like, there's defs more aesthetically pleasing things than watching my scrubbing dried fluids from my cracks.

"I think I will investigative this Baldur's Gate 3 you mentioned. It will explain a lot of things."

"I hope you have a pocket dimension stashed away in which time doesn't pass." I grab the mat from the shower and place it before it, then reach for the neatly folded towel in the cabin and turn beet red because did he think I just pushed my bare ass up at his face? Time to ignore. "The game takes around 100 hours to play."

"Is that so."

"You can always speed up by watching vids of the important bits." For a moment I try to shrug out of clothing I am not wearing. When my head catches up with that fact, my brain restarts with a few blinks. "Anyway, I can show you if you wanna."

"After you showered." He points out.

Oh. Oop. "Yeh. And brekkers," I add as the pieces of my plan come back to me. "In the meantime-"

"I am well capable of entertaining myself," he interrupts me. "Do not worry."

"Kk. Hands off my phone tho. I mean it."

He leaves with a chuckle which isn't a promise. And we both know I'll never catch him rifling through the remainder of my apps unless he wants me to. Smug bastard. I try to shower fast. There's a number of thin cuts on my skin I have only hazy memories of receiving. Plus bite marks of deep red when I scrutinise them in the mirror. I run my index finger over the one at my throat.

None of it will show once I have my costume on. I am at the same time relieved and disappointed. A quick check-in with more private parts find them unharmed if a little pommelled. I lick my lips and quickly mess up my hair into what passes for a hairstyle.

When I return to the room, Raphael lounges in the lone comfy chair of the room – now devoid of heaps of clothing that lie haphazardly on the bed – reading. I can't remember ever being so glad I didn't write a diary. Or journal ifn I wanna sound all grown up. Not sure what a devil finds in sci-fi with eldritch horror, not to mention The Fallen is the second book in the trilogy. He looks up and rises. My skin is dry within the moment. Hot. Damn.

I slink over to the tiny excuse for a desk face red again. As if there's anything he didn't see, touch, lick already. Raphael takes it as invitation and try to ignore how he presses against my back especially when I lean over to open the laptop. Gotta remember the rammies and quencies. Gotta get to breakfast before they close. Time to talk a million words a minute and concentrate on that only.

"Here's were you turn it on," I push the power button thinking about the words I am using more than I wanted but well. At least my background isn't artistically naked devil any longer. I exhale slowly. At least the motivational is fully dressed if fully cringe.

"Be the devil you want to see in the world?" Raphael chuckles and I feel it in my bones.

"Trying to motivate to finish sewing," I get out. "Worked, too. Costume is all done. Not gonna wear it tho, mind you." I mean, how could I? With the real thing here and breathing down my neck? I think not.

"It worked in more ways than that, I would say." His lips graze my ear and I have to get outta here before I bang him senseless.

"Anyway. This is how you go online and that is the video site. You can just type your search here. Anything with your name and 'all scenes' or such should work. When you done, you can just close the lid."

I straighten and feel his chest against my back the whole way. He could take a step back. He doesn't. Puts an arm around my waist instead and turns me to face him. Who had the smart idea to show him tech before putting on pants? Doesn't matter. If he looks at me a little longer, I'd have had to change them anyways.

He doesn't look though. Plants one on me is what he does before moving me out of his way. Not sure this will work out. He's driving me crazy. And, judging by his self-satisfied face, that is on purpose. Could really do with a memory of whacking him right now. Anything to belie the fact I'm utterly gone for him.

I thrown on sweatpants and a wide shirt just so I can get going already. Raphael sees me off with a light slap on my ass. I move, mostly driven by thinking really hard about the prices of food at the con. Horrendous. Over my budget. Definitely not as tasty as the devil at home. Oh dear.

Breakfast is decent, but then I am easy to please. Give me scrambled eggs and buns and I'm happy. If there's cut fresh fruit with yogurt I m in heaven. The fruit here isn't fresh, at least the cut version isn't, so I'm hanging somewhere between. Not for long, though because I inhale my food and wash it down with two generous mugs of tea.

This whole devil in the morning thing cost me time and I don't want to be late. Not to mention that Raphael sitting in my room, with my computer watching BG3 clips is giving me all kins of feelings, not all of them good.

My own fault, really. Could have sent him off with information instead of sabotaging myself by giving him access to all my files. I'm looking at myself from outside shaking my head at my predictability and how desperately I try to go opposite directions at the same time.

I want him gone fast so the pains won't be so bad. I want him to stay forever because – gods! Why wouldn't I? He's perfect! I wanna go with him, but I can't because I'm not the person he came to find. I want to be somebody else with all my heart, but that at least is a familiar feeling.

I return to my room slightly breathless and fidgety and slam down a second keycard next to Raphael before I think better about it. "Told reception I forgot mine in my room," I say at his frown. "They didn't disable mine either. So. Here you go. Free access."

I regret my last words immediately, because the whatever Raphael did in my absence, getting dressed was not it. If he wants to put his ass on the suspicious surface of an upholstered hotel chair, far be it from me to question it. Only maybe, he will have to wash before I bite. Anyway. Well. At least he wasn't doing anything exciting? I swallow and drag my eyes back up to his face.

"My, my. You were in a hurry to return." He looks at me, not even up though he's fucken sitting. "I appreciate the thought, though I can let myself in whenever I want."

"It's different when you're invited."

Raphael raises a brow. Probably wondering what difference that is. He reaches for the white card and his hand gets close enough to my pussy for it to perk up full of hope. The devil just picks up the plastic and eyes it with mild interest at best. It contrasts really nice with the red of his fingers. I stare. I know what those fingers do.

"Anyway. I'll get ready now and go to my con. You do – whatever you please."

"I will."

He rises and for a moment I think that maybe I'm what he wants to do. I might. Even if I'd drip cum from my cunt for half a day and hate every second of that. But Raphael just looks down at me, perfectly aware of his effect. Bastard.

I huff to myself and get on with putting on my costume. Smart little me made sure it was not more layers than absolutely necessary. It gets really hot in those halls and thinking of Raphael doesn't lower the temperature any.

Quick thanks to my docs for removing my tits so I don't have to wear a binder any longer. I loved those stupid things more than life, but they do add an extra layer of mostly plastic. The things we do for love. Seems I am already used to sweating for it. Nice.

When I pick up my trustee foam war hammer I pause. Paint is already peeling off the edges. Am I too lazy to make another one? Gods yes. That fucker is a piece of work. I mean, I could have chosen a different one from the game, but the huge and decorated maul one is my absolute fave. I pry at the gold and silver paint because I can which means I have to.

"Not as sturdy as you are sued to?" Raphael's voice drops down my neck and spine hot and gravelly.

Lucky I like him because otherwise intrusion of my personal space like that gets the war hammer in the face. He really lucky because magicking the foam prop into an actual weapon would have slowed me down, not stopped me. I lower the heavy thing to the ground. No need to dent the floor. Then I turn slowly.

Hell, he's in my space alright. There's no space left which he does not occupy. Wish I'd complain but the main danger is that I just climb him like a tree again. I take a deep breath which helps a little. Not as much as I hoped because now my nose is also full of devil. What a life.

"Raphael." Ahahaha, that is not just resigned, that tone is downright sad-horny. "I can't bring an actual weapon with me. The con has rules and 'no real weapons' is one of them."

"You don't like it?" He raises a brow which doesn't make him any more readable.

My hands easily sneak around the handle again, even though I can't see it behind me. It feels good. Solid. Strong. Tempting. I turn again to raise it and give it an experimental swing. The war hammer lies in my grip with soft reassurance. It's a thing of beauty. I can't help but smile.

Well, maybe I shouldn't because that thing needs to have blood and entrails all over it. Those protrusions on the head are made to break and maim. Yet it feels no more dangerous in my hands than a dance partner.

"It's lovely. But I can't take it with me." I am glad for the no-weapons rule because I sure as hell would have arms longer than noodles if I tried to carry this hammer.

"A pity." Raphael points to my right where my slightly rumpled foam hammer appears on the floor.

The weapon I hold doesn't evaporate. It doesn't vanish when I put it down between us either. And now I kissblocked myself stupidly because I'm too short to grab the devil over the long handle. I know I only have a single braincell, but being around Raphael makes my disregard its use even more than usual.

I don't wanna seem ungrateful. Given the chance I will keep this megaton trinket and schlep it all the way home. I place my hands on the end of the handle. It fits my palms a little too well. "I'll just – put it over there with the rest of my things," I say lamely.

On the other hand, I could just stand there and stare at him for the rest of the day, but that's not very productive. Also, he needs to get some pants on. Devil dick is distracting, even if it's just hanging out. But I am being very brave about it and turn my back. The foam hammer is ridiculously light in comparison.

Then I stand in the door like a fool. Does one kiss their devil goodbye? I wanna because I wanna smooch him 24/7 all day every day. But I also don't wanna because what if it really a goodbye-kiss?

Raphael kindly solves my problem by retreating into the bathro om. I try to get the image of him squeezed in there with his wings smushed flat against the tiles out of my head all the way to the convention.

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #mel writes fanfic #sleazy second-hand car dealer #a mortifying ordeal #chapter 6

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casitafallz · 1 year

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Decay AU | Surprise, Dr...

Decay had some regrets in Dante’s presents choices from the family unit. In part, the fact when she was assigned a two weeks holiday which was mandatory for any parent of any child under the age of ten to have every 6 months. Decay had only wanted to take a nap, both of her arms were on charge and in the corner but she had hoped Dante would stay watching his screen and allow her time to rest.

It was fine until she woke up sharply to something plastic being wedges into her mouth. Biting down onto it immediately and she sitting up sharply though Dante’s annoyed whine cut through the alarm.

“Mami, No, you’re not feeling very well!” the two year old scolded.

Decay blinked down at him before spitting out the plastic thing into her lap to realise it was Dante’s plastic medical tool, a thermometer. “Dante, I was sleeping.” She groaned though she shifted one leg over the edge of her bed, only for her son to push her leg back up.

“Yes, sleepy, sleepy. You ate too much cake! You are sick. Lay down.” Dante picked up the blue stethoscopes and began to put the oversized ear piece to place and clambered up onto the bed.

Decay watched as he patted it briefly over her chest, too far left to be accurate but she’d not hamper his mood on the matter on pointing it out. She contemplated trying to get up and get her arms up and get him to snuggle but… he was quick to tantrums… maybe she should wait this out and let him get bored of trying to be a doctor.

Maybe encourage Dante onto ‘fixing’ Pariah when she next came to baby sit him given she had gifted that to him.

“Time to test your leg-ping.” He picked up a small hammer what had softer plastic at the end

“You mean my reflexes?”

“Yes, yes.” He nodded brightly and began to hit her knee in various places. She jolted her leg purposely and the tot began to giggle.

“Oh no, my knee!” Decay feigned a gasp “What ever will I do?”

“Yay! It worked!” He dropped the hammer onto the floor and went for the bandages. Those where real, more or less but had Velcro to make it easier on small hands. Dante happily began to wrap her legs together until it ran out.

“Am I fixed, Mijo?” Decay’s voice was a little dry though he picked up the last tool. “Ah, my mistake. What is that?”

“Imma see bloods speeds.” He clipped on the crude, plastic pressure cuff around the lump of her ankle, given her absence of both limbs in his fun.

Decay just smiled at his antics as he began to squeeze the little plastic balloon and rested back… getting her legs free was probably going to take a while without her arms…unless she could convince him to get her arms which… wasn’t an all bad idea; he was learning the basics of those requests and he was smart.

He may be two, nearly three but he knew her disabilities meant she had to have extra help and he seemed to want to help…just as much as he needed hers. It made her smile as he had tried to cut her food up for her, not because of her disabilities but because he thought that was what everyone else did for each other because she always prepped his food given he was so little…and she didn’t trust any toddlers around a sharp implements.

“Oh no, Mama dead!” Decay jumped as Dante threw the corner of her blanket over her face.

“Dante!”

“You’re not alive, Mama. Susshh!” though she felt the weight of his body as he dove onto her belly to keep her down though he giggled loudly. Decay groaned.. but she had to hope Distort or Pariah would come down soon…

Hopefully.

lol i was in such a mood for posting a new little peice of drabble than posting more chapters for LTRL AU stuff...lilke i miss the decay stuff but i can’t pile too much on my plate so i’ll wait until the fics in a good place or done before i start adding more and alternating the story to fit the decay timeline to her origin :)

i hope you enjoyed little dante :)

#decay au #decay isabela #dante madrigal #decay dante #encanto #encanto au

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jaewrotethis · 11 months

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16- Trusting Dust...

Her P.O.V.

I wake on the floor, unable to recall going to bed last night. A mess of blankets supporting and covering me, the sun well in the sky, lighting my room. I have no sense of what time it could be, though it feels late as I remember that’s the first time I’ve slept since I woke in that canvas tent. A soft caterpillar crawls on the blanket beside me. I fling it away with the blanket piece while exploring my dirty mouth with my dirtier tongue, becoming more awake. I regret not washing out my mouth in the wash room when I had the chance. I sit up in the fluff and mess, trying hard to remember last night.

I recall winning the duel against the enormous blonde boy, Chris. I remember K coming to me in front of the fire and trying to get me to dance. It blurs after that. I can see imagines in my head of the hot fire, the dirt under my socks, boys leaping and dancing around me, the stars in the sky behind the smoke of the fire. I can remember how free it felt to dance with them, how much I didn’t care about a single thing. My raw throat reminds me of all the laughing I did, so much laughing.

I stand up, trying to remember more and more, my hand coming to my forehead, moving to sit on the bed. I remember the feeling as the music took over. The dancing, the laughing. Oh, the laughing. I had fun last night. Actual fun. I look up to the mirror across from the bed and realize that I am smiling. The memory of letting go, pouring out all problems for the fire to eat and burn away is making me smirk in a way that unsettles me. And yet, I want to do it again. Dance and forget everything at the fire.

My eyes drift downwards from my reflection to what sits atop the dresser. I blink, my head tilts and the smile nearly explodes over my face.

Is...is that...clothes?

Slowly, I stand and make my way to the dresser, pulling at the soft cloth. I touch them gently before picking anything up. I haven’t had real clothes since I was fourteen. All I’ve had for so long was the odd papery cloth used for the white sets of clothes given to us every month. Many different sets. I earned a few different colors of the sets but they were always the odd plastic cloth and I had said goodbye to real cloth long ago.

So excitement spreads as I strip off the paper clothes that were a curse of a label. I yank off my undergarments and pick out the new version of under garments I’ve been gifted; very small and very thin, silk-woven pair of shorts and the exact same very small tank top that stopped coverage at my top rib bones.

Wearing my new black underwear I stand before the pile of new clothes and mirror. Gazing at the soft fabric on my skin through the reflective glass, I like it. I like it a lot, I smile and my fingers take apart the rest of the pile, in a hungry anticipation of what I could look like now. A style, a statement of my personality or my new environment, anything other than looking like the fucking escaped patient that I’ve been.

In the pile of my new belongings I find a pair of deep brown cargo pants, dark enough to look black, decorated with pockets and loops, cavities and strings to adjust different areas. I discover a real tank top, one that actually covers my stomach, and plain shirt that’s been sewn together with jungle cord and green and brown fabrics or leathers. I find a leather vest, though it isn’t a type of skin of any animal that I may know. Under the thick vest, a black long-sleeved shirt, a fine silk though really long, as if to be crunched up over my wrists, holding a very light and thin corset inside its skin. At the bottom of the pile, just on top of a thick pair of black hunting boots, sits a cloak. A proud, warm garment that lifts with a satisfying weight. Inside the boots I pull out two cuffs to protect my forearms. Inmost of the right boot, scrunched into the toes, there is a rolled up hat.

One by one I put on my new belongings. The certain combination of, tank top, long sleeve, perfectly-fitted cargo pants. I had begun to question how any of it would fight just right until the fabrics touched my skin, evolving and shaping to a perfect fit at each curve, tension, and movement. Rolling my sleeves up passed my elbows I get to work and spend time figuring out how to pin my hair back. My hair washed and voluminous gets twisted, pulled, braided and brushed back into a thick and loose pony tail of a braid. And when it’s all out of my face and stuck together as one, messy, confusing, uncoordinated thing, I look in the mirror. I look good in the dark, tight clothes. I smile, another genuine smile. I look normal. I look in charge. I feel great. Great enough to kick my white clothes under the bed, never wishing to see them again.

Left on the dresser I have yet to try on are the arm cuffs and big black boots. I pull on the right cuff, struggling to tighten the laces to my fitting. I tie it sloppily and do the same to the left. I fish out a drawer from the bedding mess on the floor and put it back where it belongs into the dresser for my new clothes, that I did not put on, to live in.

The sun edging towards the middle of the sky I finally take a seat on the bed to feel grateful to discard my disgusting, crusty (once) white socks. I unlace the black boots and fit my feet into them, getting startled when they shift to fit my feet perfectly, comfortably. The magic impressing me all over again. I tie them tight and stand, testing them out. I hop and run to the wall to see how I like them. They are perfect.

I know accepting his clothes is a sign of submission. I know abandoning my old clothes makes a statement. I know putting that drawer back in the dresser for my other new clothes makes a decision. And I know he will know now, that I do not wish to leave back to London so soon. It couldn’t matter. Having the power he has is what matters, getting revenge and taking every last thing from his obnoxious hands is what matters. Killing the demon boy, that is what is important. Accepting his clothes and trying to blend in is all I have of a plan to get what I want. To show him he can trust me, to show cooperation and learn all I can.

I tied my hair back with determination this day, I fitted my shirt with a decision this morning, that I will be playing the long game to one day take all the delicious power I can.

I still don’t know if I truly want to go back to London after finding out what this place really is. I don’t know how I could. Pan offered to show me how to get off the island if I wished to yesterday, but I stayed another night. The offer is gone now. Deep in my bones, a ghost of panic pricks at the thought of not wanting to leave, I should want to leave. But it’s so easy to admit that never feeling that powerful magic again is simply hectic. I desire it too much to care about returning to the normal world.

I look over to the door, wondering if it’ll let me pass. I walk to it, jumping through, then smiling when I land in the hallway, on the other side. I celebrate for just one moment when I groan out, exhaling and drooping low. The endless hallways still have me trapped.

Shit.

Use the magic.

“Fuck!” I jump, hitting the wall when the twin appears next to me.

I glare at her, putting a hand to my heart from the scare. She breathes a laugh at me and repeats herself.

“What? How? No.” I cross my arms and walk away from her not wanting to comply to anything she tells me.

You need to realize I’m on your side.

“You think I would trust you?” I stop walking and face her. “After the things you’ve done in the past,”

It’s been years, you can’t keep living back there, she thumbs behind her shoulder.

I shake my head, “Understand, I don’t need you,” I spit through my teeth. “Not anymore,” I walk away from her again

You’re gonna be stuck in here again. She sings behind me

“We’re,” I correct her.

Here, I’ll do it.

My head buzzes with the dizziness I know now is magic. The hallway dissolves in front of me. I stare at the enormous front room of the tree house, it’s nearly empty.

“How did you do that?” I look at her, astonished.

“Jane!”

The call of my name came from down below where my head snaps to see K, waving his hand at me. My insides feel warm at the sight of him, comfort and no more loneliness lurking inside. I head down the stairs immediately where he meets me halfway.

“Look who’s fitting in,” he says about my outfit. “But, not these,” he laughs, tugging at the strings of my cuffs.

I let him pull my arm into his hands and retie my strings saying, “Thanks,”

I look behind me for the girl in my head, as he reties my cuffs, she’s disappeared for now.

“Well?” he says.

“Huh,” I look back to him my mouth open.

“I said we’re going through the Lurid,”

I blink at him.

“Do you wanna come?”

“The what?”

“The forest. Around us,” he finishes lacing my cuffs.

We begin walking down the stairs together. I hold my hands in front of my thighs, anxiety creeping up my spine like a spider.

“Why?”

A short air chuckle leaves his throat, “Why not?”

“It’s dangerous, it’s got...monsters, or creatures in it,”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” he opens the door for me to walk outside, “It’ll be fun,”

I stare at him and he just smiles, guiding me through the tall roots and to the line of the forest. I can already hear the monster-like animals. A group of boys wait at the tree line, I recognize Slightly and W. I see a subtle yellow aura each of them are giving off, creating the lightest cloud around them. I stop walking and K notices, stopping as well.

“What?” he asks.

“Do you see that?” I point at the boys. He looks at them, “See what?”

I look at him again, then back at the yellow charge, “You don’t see that-that, yellow...ness?”

In response he laughs twice with a closed mouth, “Come on, they’re waiting on us,”

A look of puzzled on my face, I follow him. We start for the forest and the spider crawls higher, growing heavier, stepping louder and dripping an icy poison down my body until it reaches my tingly numbing fingertips. The forest is dark, almost pitch back. The only light coming from tiny cracks in the thick canopy. The loud animals thump around loudly, infesting, claiming the territory as their own, though I think the Lost Boys digress. The boys carry weapons of their own making, me feel vulnerable without one. Although, to my luck, someone stops us all. We turn around to see who called but I feel like the boys already knew.

“Come watch this,” Pan shouts, then disappears.

I hadn’t seen or heard the scene that was happening while we walked across the clearing. I follow K to and through the crowd until finding a spot in it, and a view of what’s going on. Once I do, my excitement of new clothes and friend is gone.

It’s the little boy, the tiny little T, on his knees, hands bound. Pan stands before him, feet parted, hands behind his back like a military stance. My heart stops beating for the little boy, every instinct tells me to run to him, to untie him, to shove Pan away and run with the little boy, run far, and run fast. But K must’ve seen me tense up to run at him because he traps my wrist in his fingers and shakes his head at me when I glare at him.

“Boys,” Pan begins his scene.

I yank my wrist from K’s grasp, planting myself still.

“Surely, you know by now,” he looks right at my eyes, where I can’t handle the striking green and I look down, “that rules are set for reason,” Pan’s stern voice echoes through the crowd, “and what happens when a disloyal breaks a rule? Hm?” he doesn’t give anyone a chance to answer, “well, an example must be made,” he looks down at poor little T who won’t even look up. I step forward, wanting to run to him but K steps when I do, and I know he will not let me intervene.

“Oh, but don’t hear it from me, I suppose I’m just strict.” that sick smirk plays on his mouth, “let us hear it from the guilty!” Pan shouts out, looking at T again. He’d circled him while he spoke and now stands behind him, kicking T’s boot.

T snaps his head up, and gets to his feet, “I spoke of sacredness...outside of ritual,” he admits.

I shake my head slightly, this is madness. This is ridiculous. This can’t be real.

Despite my shaking head, Pan nods his, circling T again and walking around him to stand in front of him, still facing the lot of us, “There you have it, boys...guilty!” then Pan whips around to face T, dispersing a bright red magic from his hand and lashing it out.

I watch the red magic leave Pan’s fingers. I feel a sense of warm heat just as the red is summoned and shaped in his fingers milliseconds before he throws it. I’m too focused on this closer feeling of magic, I don’t see the boy fall down. I’ve never been this close to it. I can almost feel how Pan does it, how he asks for magic and it obeys. I want to try.

When the magic retrieves back into Pan’s hand my sense come back to me. I burst from the crowd into the scene we watch.

“Pan! Stop it!” I yell at him as his hand winds back for another blow.

He does no such thing and summons more red magic in his palm.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” I reach him and yank his hand back, the hand he held the red pain in.

I’m even closer than I’ve ever been to magic and the red glow screams at me. I can feel how angry it is, how much is wants to hit someone. Pan shoves me off the second I yank him and I no longer feel the magic,

“This is your doing!” he shouts at my face.

I shrink away from his loud shout. Confused and afraid. Enough so that I don’t pull away from the hand coming behind me and tugging me back into the crowd. I look to see who retrieved me, staying quiet. Of course, it’s my baby sitter, K. K seems so used to what Pan is doing. I look around at the faces of other boys. They all seem used it. No one’s objecting or even flinching every time the magic rips into the little boys flesh. Questions raise more questions.

What does he mean ‘my doing’?

Why did he say that?

How could I have done this?

How can he claim to save these boys from their terrible lives, just to bring them here to kill them over a rule?

As disturbing as the scene is to my stomach I can’t stop watching Pan use the magic. Every time Pan’s magic strikes the boy his aura glows a bright red then fades to a sickening green that makes my stomach churn. I can’t comprehend how wrong this is, how much I despise Pan for hurting a little boy, how much I want to take that magic and let Pan have a real taste of his own cruel nightmare. My heart wants to break for the child being whipped and slashed, though a part of me tells me he is no normal child.

What rule did he break? Am I next?

Pan strikes into T twice more before halting and kneeling down to him. He puts his hand on T’s little shoulder and T looks up at him, his face twisted with pain though no sound of it ever came from him. He is so strong for being so little. Pan whispers something incoherent to the rest of us, only for T to hear and T nods, looking down. Pan stands again facing the rest of us.

“Wish your brother luck to finding his way back home. Should he make it back here alive by sunset, he is forgiven, pardoned, and never to be reminded of his crime again.” Pan tells us all.

The crowd simultaneously nods around me, adding to my shock and then Pan wipes his hand in the air over T’s little head. T disappears completely, my eyes only widening more. I stare at the bloody spot he left in the dirt. I feel Pan’s eyes right on me but all I can think about is the magic I was so close to. My eyes go to K who is speaking lowly to another boy. K has a tint of blue in his chest. I watch the blue morphing around his chest growing smaller and smaller. K takes a deep breath and the blue is dissolved.

The colors are emotions.

I look at Pan, a bright yellow aura, burning red in the outer parts. I watch the colors move around him like light waves, and follow him in every movement he makes. I look to his face and meet his eyes. I feel a pull on my arm and turn to see K trying to get my attention.

I hang from his grip, completely distracted, “What?”

“You ok?” He asks.

I’m focused on his yellow glow now, a bright source in his core, and as I look around, I see they all have it. K’s moves in slower waves, and his seems to have layers on top of layers of different shades of light.

“Jane,” he says again.

“What?” I say irritated of hearing my name, not even looking at his face.

I reach out to touch the waves. They swivel around and reach out to my touch.

“Intense, I know. Are you alright?”

I look back at Pan who’s still looking at me only now he’s smiling. He licks the back of his teeth turning his shoulders and walking away. My attention goes back to K.

“Hey,” he says more stressed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” even to myself I sound distracted. Yet, again I return my gaze towards Pan’s direction, searching in the crowd of boys now departing. “Go on without me, I’m-” I spot Pan, “busy.” I walk away ignoring my name being called.

Pan looks back at me giving me a look to follow him. I do so, very aware of all the other boys’ eyes on me. I begin to think they all hate me now after what Pan shouted for everyone to hear. The win last night suddenly seems so far away, as if I never impressed them at all. Pan and I walk away from the scattering boys and into the woods. I can’t help but notice the woods gone quiet yet again.

“What rule did he break?” I shout at him, pretending that the very real fear of what he can do with just a thought isn’t clasping around my throat with every word that comes out of it.

He keeps walking, “Are you going to ask that every time someone gets punished?”

“I think I’d like to be safe in the case I break a rule unknowingly,”

He keeps walking. “What do you mean I did that?” I call out, trying to catch up.

He stops and faces me, wanting a good distance from him I halt, “What’s Talent?” he asks.

“What?”

“What. Is. Talent?”

I cross my arms, “You tell me,”

“What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,”

His eyes glare, “Prove it,”

“How?”

His magic sends him right in front of me now in the quickest transport, the air between us nearly nonexistent and I step back from the startle but he grabs my hand, squishing my fingers together in his palm. I pull away at his touch, instantly, but he holds tight.

“What are you doing?” I grunt, trying to pull away.

“Show me you don’t know,”

Then his hand feels warm. I look at his hand over mine, more colors. Different colors, the magic kind. A warm orange coming from his hand, absorbing into mine. It’s the warm magic I craved, only it didn’t belong to me. It didn’t feel comforting and mine. It was listening to him, it was to his benefit. I clasp my free hand down on his fingers that grip me and pry them away, yanking my hand from his grasp, hard. The orange retrieving back to his palm. I look him in the eyes, angry.

“Do you want me to cooperate?”

“Please,”

“Then, do not use magic on me. Anymore.”

“Perhaps, you’d like to use it yourself,”

I pause, thrown off by his response. The second voice begins shouting at me to take the chance to begin the plan of letting him teach me so we can grow close.

He wants to teach you! This is your opportunity!

But, I remain unsure, especially after seeing what he does as punishment for being crossed.

“Agree to never and I’ll consider it,” I say.

“You want to?” he says, raising an eyebrow, challenging me to admit it.

“I-I don’t-”

“If you admit it, it can only benefit you, Miss Jane. I’ve said before, you could just be an asset to our home here,”

I take one more step closer, the plan becoming more realistic but I’m still unsure, “You want me to stay here and learn magic, don’t you?” As I say it, the wonder to find out why he wants me to admit it so badly pushes me to fight for what I want to know.

“I believe everyone should,”

“You want me to,” I say firmer, entirely sick of not having control of any conversation with him.

“Yes,”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve told you, you posses great power, be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

I exhale so irritated at how calm and collected he is.

His smile never seems to leave his face, “I can tell you’re having difficulties believing you have such power, though I can’t see why, you defeated Chris last night.”

He makes me stammer my words with the memory, “I blacked out,”

“You made your way through the halls of Hideout this morning on your own,”

“How did you know-,”

“Tell me have you seen colors? In all of us? Have you felt the warmth of used magic?”

I ignore his query, with no intent at all of answering since what he just said is my only advantage, I could never let him know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and if I did I’d think you’re insane,”

“Alright, so you’d like to go home then,” he calls out my bullshit, “I can arrange that right now,”

“You’re offering to show me how to get off the island again?” again I’m dizzy with confusion at his roller coaster of angles to speak to me, I can’t seem to pin point what he will ever say next.

“If that’s what you want,”

“Since when is what I want priority?” I spit, desperate to stay undercover in any way.

“Stay then, learn to use our magic and be an addition to our society,”

I stutter on my words, thinking about going home, thinking about what he said to me and how quickly he changes his intentions that I might never know how to undermine him. There is nothing for me back home except starting a new life. I could thrive in a new life, but haunted with the knowledge that I never got revenge for what he did to me and never got to use the magic that called me so persistently. Although, staying here would be a hit to my ego as the boy who caused all of it is the only thing protecting me from whatever monsters are on this island. Undecided, I glare at him, hoping he would show me how to leave but not force me out just yet, not until I’ve gotten what I’m staying for.

“Do not use magic on me,”

“Use it yourself,”

Learn what our power is, learn how to kill him! All of this could be ours!

I flinch at the loud voice of my excited twin, but I listen to her and look around when she says I could have all of this around me. Ever lastingly so, the idea of him falling in love with me is too stupid to agree with or even comprehend.

“I-I, need to think about it,”

“What is there to think about? To be one of us is to be in paradise. Protected. Celebrated.”

“You think I’d want you as my teammate? You’ve killed and tortured two of your own since I’ve been here,”

“You misunderstand, Jane, I am no one’s teammate, I’m the leader here, and we have rules for a reason, we cannot thrive if we are not on the same page, besides” he steps closer to me, “you caused that,”

I breathe out, “How.”

He remains quiet as if speaking anymore of the subject would give me some type of information that he isn’t sure I have, and clearly doesn’t want me having. The silence lasts until I know he will not be telling me.

“What rule did he break?” I ask, hoping it answers both questions.

“He spoke of Talent,” he brushes passed me walking back the way we came.

He leaves me standing there in my thoughts of why such a thing could result to what it did. I bite my lip perhaps accepting that speaking of whatever Talent is, is dangerous. Though he doesn’t leave me there for long when the silence of the rabid monsters disappears as they grow louder, pulling my eyes from the dirt at my boots and to the woods around me. I don’t waste time scanning the jungle, I turn around and hurry behind him, confused and afraid. I rush up to him, feeling as if the faster I run, the louder they grow and the quicker my fright builds. The crescendo wakens my nerves and I can’t stop the rush of emotion that shoots from my fingers when I reach out to him.

“Wait,” comes from my mouth as reach for him.

The emotion comes from my fingers as an iridescent force, slapping him in the back. He doesn’t even stumble he just stops. I stop as well, afraid of what I’ve just done. He turns to face me. My eyes wide, I wait for his reaction. He suddenly smiles.

“Well, what do you know, she can use it after all,”

“I-I,” I can’t think of how to explain what I just did.

I simply stare at my fingers in complete fear of how easily I had absolutely no control of that iridescent power. I stutter at how quickly it happened and I before I could think to stop it, it was too late. He seems to watch me as I stare at my fingers, full of fear, until he exhales then walks towards me. I step back, unable to look away from my fingers. I did it. I had the magic, so suddenly, so strong, then so quickly gone.

“You can learn to wield it,” he says in that soft voice, the one that got me to follow him out of the big room yesterday.

I look up at him, actual fear of having no control of the magic making me believe him.

“I can show you,” he tells me.

The second voice begins shouting in excitement, This is your chance!

I finch but he went to grab my hand so he thought it was from the contact. I open my mouth to speak but I don’t know what to tell him. I want the power, it calls me so loudly. I crave the strength and the control. The fear only makes me want control even more. But I don’t trust him. And yet, still, the magic calls so loudly, the fear feels so cold that I almost don’t care that I don’t trust him. I just want the magic to listen to me to badly.

“Come on, where’s that sense of adventure?” he demonstrates that he will respect my space by backing up with a hand out for me to take if I want it.

Still I stare.

“What do ya say?” he lightens.

“I, I’m afraid,” I whisper with honestly. I’m overwhelmed.

He exhales then steps to me, “Here,”

He pulls a well-sized knife in a cover from the inside of his waistband at his right hip. It is black, with a loop on the end of the cover to fit through a belt. It’s got a deep purple gem on the edge of the handle, and the blade is a prime black when I pull it from its cover. Its leather cover, detailed with a royalty looking design. I look up at him, questioning if it’s a gift or if he’s showing me the weapon he’s going to use to kill me with.

“It’s for the Lurid,” he gestures to the forest around us, “Never walk through it without a weapon,”

“Why would I ever walk through it?”

“Because you’re going to let me show you something,”

“Show me what?”

He steps backwards, gesturing for me to follow. Then he takes another step, and another, trying to coax me into following him. Slowly, I do. Until he’s walking forward and I’m stepping quickly over the forest floor right behind him.

“Where are we going?” I ask him, his hideout tree staying put as we pass by it into more woods that, once again, fall silent of monsters.

“I told you I could show you how to use your magic, properly,” he keeps walking, “how to grow it,”

“And?”

“And since I know you have a dare to fulfill, I think you’d be wise to let me.”

“What are talking about?” “The treasure hunt, of course,”

I am astonished at how quickly everything went casual. A boy was just tortured after all, and here we are speaking of games. The magic I summoned seemed to move time forward and the scene Pan said I caused already seems so long ago. I can only care about how he says he will show me more magic, since that is the only reason I’m still here after all.

“So, we’re going somewhere where you can show me how to...use it?” I ask.

“You realize what you signed up for, don’t you?” he asks me.

I continue to stumble over logs and sticks, rocks and leaves, twisting my ankle twice while he swiftly navigates, almost stealthily prancing, through the forest, “Um, the Treasure Hunt,” I suggest.

He laughs.

“What, what is it?”

“That’s so interesting to me, how you can agree to something without having a clue of what it is,” he laughs again, “could get you killed one day,”

“Do you think not giving me information is going to make me want to listen to you?” I grow sick of his game.

He laughs another time, “In a game of Treasure Hunt, we board the Pirates’ captain’s ship. It’s a stealth mission, whoever gets the captains most prized possession, wins.”

“Wins what?”

“Guess you’ll have to win and find out,”

“You said, um, Pirates? As in, Pirates?”

“Grown ups. Old codfish with nothing left of their souls except to play a loosing game. We call them Ducks, for sitting on the water all day,”

My cheeks rise to laugh at the stupid name, but I stop them, “And we’re...stealing from them?”

“Playing Treasure Hunt,” he stops walking.

I catch up to him to see a cliff. Down below, far below, is a meadow with soft, tall grass for miles. Trees line the meadow, hiding it from everything else.

“Alright, go on,” he tells me.

I look at him, then back at the meadow below the blue sky.

He nods his head at the ground below.

“You want me to climb down there?” I ask looking at the steep cliff.

He breathes his laugh through his nose and shakes his head, “Jump,”

My eyes widen, “What?”

He pulls a small pouch from the side of his belt. The ties tied tightly.

“This is Pixie Dust,” he opens it and lets me look inside.

The glowing green and tinted blue dust inside screams at me the second my eyes land on it. The dust looks like liquid, changing color, shifting from a deep blue to a silk purple then a bright green. It looks alive. I can feel it pulsating with powerful life. I can hear it begging me to come closer. I have to stop myself from snatching at it and running with it as fast as I can.

“It’ll take you flying,” he says to me.

I look at his eyes, the entirety of my situation changing completely, “You’re going to show me how to fly?”

He grins wickedly, “Why not?”

“I-I’m supposed to, to jump?”

“If you trust it,”

“Trust. Trust what, the dust?”

“Yep,”

My eyes look to the cliff without moving my head then back at his eyes. “This is how you kill me,”

I see him hold in a really hard laugh, “This is how the Lost Boys fly, and if you want to come on that Treasure Hunt, you’re going to need to learn how to use it,”

“Alright,” I try not to sound incredibly eager to just look at the dust one more time.

“Go on, then,” he points to the cliff. “Jump, I know you’re no stranger to jumping,” his mean eyes flicker at the sentence, trying to provoke me.

“I didn’t-” I stop him again, exhaling harshly, dropping it.

I look at the cliff, then turn to it. I walk in front of him stepping towards the cliff, unprepared to jump off. The reality of actually jumping into the air from a 60 foot drop settles in very fast and the dust in the bag doesn’t seem so powerful anymore.

“What are you waiting for?”

I look back at him, “This is, I mean, this is crazy,”

“Isn’t that what you were in your old world?”

Hot anger gets sparked in my chest, “What did you say?”

“Is the dust not shouting at you?” he says at me, rushing close.

I’m taken off guard, anger turning to confusion and the violent shift making me emotional. My eyebrows knot as I think of how he could know that, how I could not know that he knew. I feel so in the unknown, lost and determined to search. I don’t know how to speak to him, he just knows more than me about everything. I don’t know what angle to take. I shut down completely.

“It’s ok to listen to it,” he brings it closer to me.

“And what if it’s not meant for people like me,”

“People like you aren’t here,”

I look at him, wanting to believe he means it nicely,

“Just jump,”

He is absolutely crazy. He wants me to take a literal leap of faith and just trust that I won’t die. No evidence, no experience, no for sure outcome, just do it. He has so much control over how I feel it only adds to the distrust, but in some sort of strange way it gives me me some sick reason to listen to him. As if obeying him will make this lost and alone feeling go away, and I could come out of this with the gift of flight. The gift I craved for such a long time. But still, as I look at the cliff, I cannot bring myself to step off of it.

“I’ve seen gravity work,”

“You want to come on the Treasure Hunt or not?” he asks me.

“You mean steal from adults?”

“If, you can’t trust me when I tell you you won’t fall, then trust the magic,” he steps to me, throwing the glowing green sparkles over my head, “Trust the dust,” he says.

And the moment all those little tiny specks of magic fly though the air above me, anything seemed possible. The dust touches my skin and all my thoughts become rational, encouraging, meaningful, trustworthy. I feel so comforted, so strong.

“Trust the dust,” I repeat so easily to myself.

The dust feels warm where it lands. The powerful magic feeling incredible, I smile. This is what I want, I want power. I feel ready to prove myself on that Treasure Hunt, I need this practice. All fear dissolves when the dust touches my skin. My mind is made up.

Trust it.

Trust the dust.

I see his smile curving as I sink into the high of the power. He steps aside, waiting for me to jump. He is too happy to see me ready. I don’t trust him. He wanted this, but I feel so strong from the dust that I don’t care. I know as long as I can gain this power, I can best him one day, I can kill him one day. I take a step back from the cliff, ready to run and jump.

“Think of something that makes you happy, that’s the only way it’ll work,”

I exhale, listening to him.

I think of what Tris must have thought when she opened the box door to find I wasn’t in there anymore. To let the door hang open and see an empty bed, an empty room. No explanation of where I went, just...gone. I feel real joy knowing she has no explanation and never will. I smile, then I sort of laugh.

“Trust it.” he says backing up so I can have room. “And if you fail, I’ll catch you,”

I roll my eyes to him, irritation threatening to take over the happy feeling.

“Done it before, haven’t I?” he throws the past at me again.

I exhale through my nose, holding onto the happy thought. I run forward, breathing to stay relaxed. Kicking the dirt up behind me, I watch the cliffs edge come closer until it’s behind me and I’ve leaped into the air, completely believing that the magic dust will have my back. I fall from the cliff, heading towards the ground, though no fear enters my heart. Instead, excitement floods my veins. And then my feet find air. I look to the sky choosing a destination to be in, an airy spot I’d like to reach and just like that, I defy gravity.

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artdecosupernova-writing · 1 year

Text

Fictober '19 Prompt No. 20 — "You could talk about it, you know?"

Category: Original WIP: Drowning Future AU Rating: T Timeline: you know the drill by now lol CW: none Word Count: 800 Additional Notes: N/A

***

PART III ➳ PART II ➳ PART I

The heaviness of Thrive's silence for the previous day and a half tore at Warren's insides. It didn't feel like he'd been actively refusing to speak, but that he had been so lost inside his own head that perhaps he'd forgotten to speak.

As the sun crept lower on the horizon they set up camp within the forest, starting a small fire and erecting a tent between a group of trees, stopping midway through sorting through their provisions to watch the sky light up Day-Glo yellow with veteran rifle shots originating from the mountains. Clouds from the eliyi ship and smoke from distant fires made it almost impossible to see the stars at any point.

Warren sat beside Thrive on the ground, wrapping a thick blanket around his own shoulders to ward off the chilled air. "…Thrive?"

He looked at him with patience though the distraction in his eyes somewhat explained that.

Warren observed the light from the fire bounce around the angles of Thrive's face. "I don't know if you've noticed, but…we kinda slept together and then you stopped talking to me for a whole day and a half. I'd like to know where your head's at right now."

Thrive twitched a bit at that as if coming awake from hypnotism. "Right…yes, you're correct. I apologize. Time gets away from me sometimes."

"You pretty much ghosted me to my face."

Thrive bobbed his head in a slow nod, gaze following the ebb and flow of the flames. "That wasn't my intention."

Warren folded his legs beneath him. "You could talk about it, you know? If it's something I did or something I said..."

When Thrive looked at him again, his eyes widened a fraction. "This isn't about you. At least…not in the sense that you fear."

"Thank god. I mean, like…you were my first man...adjacent...individual and I was beginning to think..." He laughed a little. "Fuck. I was scared I was bad enough for an alien to take notice."

"I don't know how I'm going to protect you anymore."

Warren's smile faded and he cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Thrive took a leveling breath and pulled his knees up to his chest. He cleared his throat. "If I had the means, I would commandeer a ship and take you away from this, somewhere safe. Safer than here. Every time you get hurt, and when you essentially died…I can't protect you, and..." He paused. "…I'm failing all I know how to do."

The crackling and popping of the firewood drew Warren's attention for a second. "It's not your job to protect me, though."

"It is," Thrive said calmly. "I only realized it back at the gas station. You've become important enough to me that I have to hold you under my oath. I would die for you, Warren."

Their eyes met and Warren ignited under the weight of his stare.

"I would die for you a hundred times over," Thrive continued. "The longer this goes on, the more I'm afraid that could happen, and then I will have permanently failed you by leaving you stranded here."

"Oh god," Warren murmured, his chest tightening with a deep and real emotion he'd never felt before. "Wow, uh…wait, hold on. First of all, I'm not as helpless as you apparently think I am, I've made it two years under this alien monster regime, so screw you, and, uh, second—"

He interrupted himself by lunging at Thrive, cupping his face and kissing him. Thrive gripped his hair, pulled him onto his lap, held him for several minutes, allowed Warren to press his lips to his throat, his jawline, his ear. Thrive slipped the blanket off of his shoulders and instead used his natural body heat to keep him warm from their spot, participating whole-heartedly but waiting for Warren to give signals and dictate their pace.

Natural light well and truly left them by the time Warren forced himself to stop their impromptu and somewhat inappropriately timed makeout session. He ran a thumb over Thrive's puffy lips and swallowed.

"You have lasted two years," Thrive said as if they'd never ceased their conversation, "and while I am impressed with your ability to hold your own and in no way doubt your abilities to do so in any other circumstance—"

"I get it," Warren whispered. He ignored the dip in his stomach that didn't feel very pleasant. "…And you're right. I don't stand a chance against the eliyi on my own. Guess that means you're stuck with me forever, doesn't it?"

Thrive locked his arms around Warren's waist and committed every one of his facial features to memory. "I suppose it does mean that."

They gazed into each other's eyes until the fire died down to a third of what it had been.

#fp1 #Darkspace Portent #Drowning Future #pair: Sun & Moon #repost

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simplyotometrash · 3 years

Note

Could I request hcs of the brothers reacting to MC asking them to lay on top of them. It’s just sometimes really comforting to have the weight of someone else on me.

I love your writing and I hope life is getting better for you! 💕

MC Asking The Brothers to Lay on Top of Them

Lucifer:

“What?”

You sprung the question on him while he was working on paperwork late at night.

“I just...well...”

“MC, please say what you wish to say. It’s late.” He rubbed his temples but there wasn’t even a hint of frustration or irritation in his voice. He sounded tired but nothing but kindness was direct at you.

“You’ve been working a lot more lately and I’ve been having trouble sleeping and, well, it’s really comforting to feel someone else’s weight.”

The blush on your face made him smile.

How could he say no to such a face?

He couldn’t

He turned out his light, now the room dimly illuminated by what light flitted in through the window.

“Well, my dear, your wish is my command. If you’ve been struggling to sleep, you should have said so sooner.”

He was careful when laying on top of you but found a comfortable way to lay soon enough.

It was odd, as usually, you would end up fast asleep on top of him. But he couldn’t deny it also felt nice.

“I suppose I could do this for you more often. All you need to do is is ask me.”

Mammon:

It was the middle of the night. The only reason you even bothered to ask him was because Mammon wasn’t snoring up a storm.

So you knew he wasn’t sleeping.

“W-what? Lay on top of ya? Is this some new kink ya found?”

Of course, you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.

You could feel how hot his face was. You loved how easily embarrassed your tsundere was.

“No, silly! Sometimes it’s just nice to have weight on top of me in bed. It helps me feel better and safer.”

Immediately rolls the two of you over to lay on you. You can feel his skin get even hotter against yours.

“D-don’t go makin’ a habit outta this, ya hear? I love ya and all but the Great Mammon ain’t yer weighted blanket!”

Says not to make a habit of it.

He’s the one to make the habit.

Him laying on top of you becomes the norm when you guys get ready for bed.

There’s something about it that makes him feel...small. But not in a bad way.

It’s like when he is the little spoon.

He feels protected and loved. Nothing can touch him.

But also nothing can get to you without going through him first.

And that makes him feel like he’s protecting his human, even while they sleep.

Levi:

Leviathan.exe has stopped working

System reboot needed

His face is so hot and red you could fry an egg!

“M-MC! Are you sure? I’m a gross otaku, I might not be very comfy to sleep under! A-and I have a weighted blanket, we can use that instead-”

“No, Levi, I want you to lay on me. If you’re okay with that. I liked weighted blankets but it is different when it’s another person.”

It takes some calming down before he goes for it.

And boy oh boy does he like it.

It’s not the most comfortable in his bathtub, though. He knows it’s gotta hurt your back.

So he plushes out his bathtub for sleeping to make it less hard and ensure your back will never hurt!

Besides, laying like that makes it way easier to actually lay together in his tub anyway. It’s such a narrow space.

Sometimes he asks if you can sleep on him instead and instantly understands the comfort it brings you.

Even when it becomes standard practice and asking isn’t needed, Levi’s face is always going to be bright red until he gets settled in for the night.

It also helps force him into a sleep schedule because he loves it so much.

Yeah, he’s okay with this. More than okay.

Satan:

Very little reaction from Satan.

He read about this kind of thing before. He was kinda wanting to ask you to lay on him but you beat him to the punch.

Mostly because he wanted to test it out.

“Of course I will. If it helps you, I’ll never say no to it.”

The biggest downside of being the one laying on top?

He can’t read to you very easily.

Satan loves reading to you at night, it helps the both of you wind down.

That’s okay, though. He memorizes plenty of stories to tell for the nights that he lays on top of you.

And he has books ready for the nights where the two of you switch.

He has no qualms with this. It actually feels really nice.

He can understand the comfort it brings.

Satan has never felt so warm and calm in his entire life.

But there will always be nights where he’s likely not going to be there when you go to sleep. So he invents in a heated and weighted blanket. He makes sure that he sleeps with it on him enough to the point it smells of him.

If it can help, even just a little bit, he’s happy.

The sweet boy just wants to do his best for you. He hates when he isn’t there for bed but sometimes it just cannot be helped.

Asmo

No explanation needed with him.

“Of course I will! I’ve been wondering what it’s like to lay on top of you anyway! You’re always laying on me when we sleep or cuddle!”

This man just adores it.

And he’s the smallest of the brothers so he definitely won’t be crushing you under his weight.

He likes it! It feels like he’s being pampered!

It gives you a great chance to play with his hair and he gets to just bury his face against the side of your neck or against your chest.

He actually likes it more when he’s on top of you. Especially when he’s had a bad day.

It makes you feel better and it helps him feel comforted after a long, awful day.

He feels like it’s his sanctuary almost.

Nothing can touch him but you.

This is completely innocent. He might make suggestive comments but this little habit you two have won’t be tainted.

Unless you’re the one to start it.

seriously this is just being said because i’m sick of everyone writing asmo as horny 24/7 and nothing else :))))

Beel:

“No.”

“But-”

“No.”

You gotta understand, this is gonna take A LOT of time and working up to get him to even attempt this.

Even then, he will never lay fully on top of you.

The most you’ll get is gonna be him resting between your legs with his head on your chest.

Beel won’t budge on this either.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m a big guy, I weigh a lot.”

All of that muscle comes with him being pretty heavy. Also, he’s somewhere over six feet fucking tall, he’s a very physically dense boi.

He will do what he can to help you but nothing will convince him to ever put more weight than necessary on you.

And even then, he doesn’t sleep too well if this goes on overnight because he’s just so worried about accidentally crushing you in his sleep.

I mean, it took a long time to get him to share a bed with you! And he’s still afraid he might roll over and crush you in his sleep!

Just take what you can get. He’s trying his best, he’s just scared.

He’s beefy and sweet and personally would rather you be laying on him where he feels a little more secure in your safety.

When he’s having a day where he just can’t do it, he gives you his jacket.

It’s heavy and warm and smells just like him. It should help, right?

Asmo said it would be a good alternative so he tries it.

Plus he gets to see you drowning in the fabric of his jacket because no matter how tall you are, his jacket will make you feel small.

The damn thing is baggy even on him!

Belphie:

Pffft

You never even needed to ask him.

You think you got a choice in this one?

Belphie will lay on top of you just because it means you can’t go anywhere unless you can get him to move.

Which means keeping his warm cuddle partner in bed all day.

So words aren’t needed here.

But you do explain it to him one day while you’re just snuggled in bed together.

“Huh. Makes sense to me.”

He’s so nonchalant about it. But he understands that someone else’s weight can be comforting.

Why do you think he sometimes pulls you on top of him to lay?

He takes comfort in it. Your warmth and heartbeat and weight remind him that you’re real. You’re alive. And you won’t be leaving him.

Of course, you’ll still be trapped by the Avatar of Sloth so you better eat and take a bathroom break BEFORE you head to the attic or to his room.

You won’t be moving until he wakes up.

Sometimes you swear he’s not even asleep based on the cheeky smile etched across his face.

You’ll take it, though. It brings both of you comfort

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #waylonwrites

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thebrideofmunson · 3 years

Text

Pink Promise

Pairing: Dean Winchester X younger sibling reader(not in an incest way)

Summary: Dean is there to help his younger sibling after they have a nightmare

Words: 2211

Warnings: fairly angsty, but still very very fluffy, a detailed nightmare, mentions of John Winchester’s parenting style, bad writing?, like one cuss word, a tiny tiny bit of gore

Note about characters: in the present scenes the reader is 16 and in the flashbacks they’re 6 and the reader and Dean have like a 13/14 year age gap so he’s like 19/20 in the flashbacks, there isn’t any gendered terms for the reader so it’s neutral(unless you count hair being braided as a gendered term, but boys can have braided hair cause gender isn’t real), and finally this takes place in season 5

Dean woke up, not for any purpose, just one of those weird moments where you randomly wake up in the middle of the night. He shook his head and began fluffing his pillow, stopping when he heard soft crying.

“(Y/N)?” He softly called out.

You were laying with your back facing out and your face squished into the musty cushions of the small motel room couch, a failed attempt at muffling your cries.

“Y-Yeah Dean? Something wrong?” You tried to play it off.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. Were you crying?”

When you guys first got your room Dean cursed the streetlight right outside the window, but now he watched how it illuminated you as you dropped your head down.

“Nightmare?”

You looked up and made eye contact before slowly nodding a yes.

“Think you’re gonna be able to go back to sleep?”

You dropped your gaze again as your face screwed up and you could feel new tears form on your lash line.

“No.” You softly croaked out, barely audible over Sam’s snores.

~Flashback~

You couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying quiet to risk opening your mouth. Once the sting in your eyes and the back of your throat calmed down you went back to sleep.

“Sammy?”

You screamed out running through an old grey house.

“No no no please no!” You heard him scream somewhere you couldn’t find.

“Sammy!” You huffed before taking off running down the hall you came from.

As you ran around the house you felt small and helpless, like when you got separated from your brothers in the corn maze at the pumpkin patch in Iowa, the one Dean took you to without your dad knowing.

“Dean?” You desperately called for your brother as your feet pounded against the floor.

Completely unaware of your surroundings you ran, the only thing on your mind was finding your brother. Not paying attention to your surroundings you tripped, your heart raced knowing how your dad always got on you for that. You got up and looked down to see what sent you flying to the cracked floorboards.

“Dean!” You screamed

You woke up again, heart pounding in your head and toes. You stopped gasping for air when you felt your dad roll over next to you, holding it in again to stay quiet. Collecting your moose and your blanket, the one you got in Oregon when you were 3 and have refused to sleep without ever since, you slipped off of the bed as silently as possible. Your dad and Dean were fumigating a house in a fancy neighborhood so the only hotel available was a little nicer than your usual moldy motels. The vinyl floorboards stayed quiet as you snuck over to the door that joined your brothers’ room to you and your dad’s. You glanced at your brothers sleeping in their beds before moving their jackets off of the chair that sat in the corner. Dropping your blanket on the floor you traded it for the two flannels that were under their jackets and curled up into the chair. Once you were comfortable you finally let the tears flow, crying softly at first and burying your face into Mort the moose as your chest heaved more and more with the weight of your cries.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Dean call out in confusion as he shut the drawer of his nightstand.

“S-sorry for waking you up.” You tossed off the flannels and picked up your blanket, heading back to your proper room.

“No, no, hey, hey, come here.” Dean moved over in his bed and opened his arms, lightly flicking his wrist to call you over to him.

You gingerly padded over to his bed and with a little effort jumped up.

“I’m gonna guess it wasn’t growing pains that woke you up.” Dean chuckled.

“Ok, I’m sorry, bad timing. Now come on peanut, stop giving me that face and come in closer.” He said shifting so he could comfortably open up his arms for you.

You still continued to pout, but scooted into his embrace until your body felt lighter.

“Sorry.” You quietly mumbled, it came out kind of funny because of how your cheek was squished against your brother’s chest.

Dean pulled back and nudged your chin up, signaling you to make eye contact with him before resting his hand on your shoulder. His comforting softness melted away as he turned dead serious.

“Listen to me, do not ever and I mean ever apologize to someone because you’re upset. Ok?” He searched your eyes waiting for an answer, which you gave him with a nod.

“Now tell me why someone broke into my room and stole my favorite flannel.” And just like that Dean pulled you back into him and your softy of a brother was back.

“Dad yells at me when I don’t sleep and when I cry and when I ask him questions, so I came in here to cry” Even your big brother’s arms couldn’t shield you from the sadness that entered your body.

“Well I’m not dad, neither is Mort the moose, and neither is Sammy.” Dean started.

“Sammy snores now, he’s old.” You shot Sam a dirty look even though he was dead asleep.

“Yeah Sammy is old now, he drools too.” Dean joined you in giving his younger brother the stink eye. “Now tell me, what has my peanut so upset?”

“Nightmare.”

“Nightmare? Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean began playing with your hair as he awaited your response.

Staring up at your older brother’s face you thought about it.

“No.” You wanted to say what happened, to get it out of your mind, but you didn’t want to tell him about how you saw his still body covered in blood with his stomach in shreds.

“No? That’s okay.”

You guys sat quietly listening to the traffic outside and Sam’s snores. After a while Dean assumed you had fallen asleep, but just as he shut his own eyes your little voice stirred him.

“D?”

“Mm, yeah (Y/N)?’

“Are monsters real?”

~Present~

Dean watched you hang your head again before scooting to the side and opening up his covers.

“Wanna talk about it kid?”

Even in your sad and scared state a genuine smile broke out across your face, it was small, but still genuine. Without responding to your brother you kicked off the soft blanket that you had fought Sam for and walked over to Dean’s bed. Since motel beds are always oddly tall you had to do a little jump to get onto it, shooting a quick glare at Dean for being clearly amused at your struggle. Tentatively Dean opened up his arms to you and you awkwardly shuffled in until your head hit his shoulder and you instantly melted. The both of you sat there without a word, wondering what the other was thinking, unaware that you were both thinking the same thing. You thought about how long it had been since you two laid like this, both of you becoming aware of how long it had really been since you showed each other affection and comfort, and how after all of these years you two felt so natural. Neither of you took into account how the other’s muscles softened, how the past few years of Azazel, the door to Hell, your dad’s death, Sam’s death, Dean’s death, demons, vampires, and vengeful spirits all released from your guys’ bodies. For the first time in months neither of you cared about Lucifer or Michael or any other dick with wings.

“Hey Dean.” You finally broke the near silence.

“Yeah?” Your ear being pressed to Dean’s chest made his voice sound deeper and you could feel his jaw move against the top of your head.

“Do you remember when I was super young and we were staying at that nice hotel in Seattle and I had that really bad nightmare?” You slipped the comforter under your brother’s arm so you could fidget with it.

“Yeah I do actually, but how the hell do you remember it? You were like what, six? So that means it was ten whole years ago.”

“I don’t think I would remember it if it wasn’t the start of the recurring nightmare I always have.” The first part was a lie. That night had been the first time you ever truly felt like you had a family, the first time you had felt comfort in your life. You could never forget that.

“Oh.” Dean began to play with your hair, taking three small pieces and trying to see if he could still remember how to braid, something he learned because you hated how John would always cut your hair.

“This dream,” you started, “it’s bad. It’s always the same house, this weird grey one with cracked floors and for some reason the walls are cement. It’s weird. But in the dream I can never find my way, it’s like a labyrinth and every time I get more and more lost the hallways get darker and darker. It always starts with me screaming for Sammy and he doesn’t respond, but I can hear him. I can hear him.”, Your voice begins to break, “I can hear him screaming no over and over again, like he’s getting attacked and then when I call out for him again he’s silent. So I’ll start running to find him, I guess I’ve always had a hunter's instinct. Then when I’m running around I trip and every time I trip I always get this feeling of fear about dad yelling at me for always being clumsy. But then when I. '' You stop, dropping your head and gaze so far down that all you can see is your own chest. Dean drops the chunk of hair he was twisting in his fingers and looks down at you.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, lightly squeezing your arm to ground you, something he always does when you’re upset.

His encouragement only made things worse as tears began to fall again. Closing your eyes you take a quick deep breath.

“When I look down to see what I tripped over it’s you. You’re dead. Bloody with your stomach all ripped up, I never see the monster, but it must be something with claws. Then it just ends there. Tonight was kind of different though. Our ages are always different in the dream. Sammy’s voice always sounds like it did when he was 16 so I don’t think he changes, but sometimes I’m a kid and you’re a teenager like when I first had it or we’re both teenagers or we’re the ages we are now or sometimes I’m a kid and you’re an adult. But tonight, tonight I was 16 like I am now and you were a little kid.”

~Flashback~

Dean didn’t know what to do, he felt like the deer that stopped in the headlights and actually got hit. He’d been through this before with Sam, but he had been older and wasn’t already upset when they had the conversation. He had felt guilty every time he lied to Sam about monsters and didn’t want to give you that same false hope, but he resented his dad for teaching him about monsters when he was this young.

“I’m not sure of anything, (Y/N).” It technically wasn’t a lie, while Dean was sure that monsters existed he wasn’t sure of what to tell you.

“Well actually no, I am sure of one thing. Nothing and I mean nothing, no man, no woman, no animal, and sure as hell no monsters will ever hurt you because you are strong and I will kick their butt if they even try.” Dean meant that fully, he’s meant that since the day his dad sat him and Sam down to tell them they have a little sibling.

“Pink promise?” You said looking up at Dean.

“Pink promise?” He pulled back and questioned you.

“A pink promise.” You huffed, freeing your arm out from under Dean’s and extending your pinky finger.

“Oohh, a pinky promise.” Dean held up his arm and extended his own pinky.

“No, it’s pink promise.” You pulled your hand back.

“Ok, I pink promise that nothing will ever hurt you.” And to that you guys joined pinkies.

~Present~

You begin to quietly sob into your brother’s chest. Dean put his hand at the nape of your neck and put his cheek on the top of your head and let you cry it out, as you calmed down he pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“Hey look, peanut. Sammy and I are not going anywhere, we will always be with you, ok. A lot is going on right now and it will all be okay, we’ve gotten out of so many situations that we shouldn’t have and this one will be no different. I pink promise.” Dean raised up his arm and extended his pinky.

“Oh fuck off.” You lightly hit his hand.

Unfazed Dean kept his hand up and smugly smiled down at you. You sigh and extend your own pinky. As your fingers wrapped around each other your annoyed façade broke, your smile was joined by a few tears.

“Pink promise.”

A/N: So hey, your local forest wench here. This is definitely different from other stuff I post. I’ve never written a fanfiction before(so basically sorry if it’s not too good and please be patient with me), but I do read a lot of of it and maladaptive daydream a lot so I always have plenty of ideas. I came up with this idea this morning and really liked it, thought that maybe other people would like it and that it would be kind of greedy to keep it to myself. I’m actually really insanely proud of this ngl. If people like this and I feel comfortable, I might even write some more in the future.

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doll-r-t · 3 years

Text

A cold tent but a warm Captain Part 1

Syverson x reader

Word count: 3.7k

TW: non, besides cold

Masterlist

This is based on the coldest night of my life when I was camping, and boiii do I wish that Syverson had been there.

credit to gif owner and pic owner

It was the beginning of the new year, snow coated everything in a white blanket. The sun was shining but it was cold maybe a bit too cold to leave the house. Yet here they were distributed into two cars driving up the Alps. A couple of Syverson’s men had convinced their girlfriends to go winter camping with them, to experience a bit of what they did. Well without the risk of getting shot. Y/Ns best friend was the girlfriend of Sgt. Harper. Harper had somehow convinced his girlfriend to go on the camping trip and in turn she had convinced Y/N. Y/N had been on camping trips before, but non that were this cold, usually she spent her summer camping in Italy or other warm regions. Now she was sitting in the back of Harpers car with Y/B/F next to her, Sgt. Chutsky, and his girlfriend in the seat in front of them. Harper was in the driver’s seat and Syverson was driving shotgun. Behind them was another small car with Pvt Matt Ocre, Corporal Enzo and Sgt Burton. Harper, Chutsky and Ocre brought their girlfriends and the others thought it would be a good thing to third wheel. They were currently on leave and had nothing better to do than chase the fight themselves. Only this time it would be the cold instead of a shoot out in the desert.

Y/N was already miserably cold but happy to be out. She loved camping in any weather but the thought about spending a weekend with couples sounded depressing. At least she had the other guys with them, even though she was nervous. Y/N had only met them a couple of times and felt a bit alienated to the rest of the group. It did not help that the grumpy Captain Syverson was so damn attractive, and she always felt like a blushing schoolgirl around him. If it were warmer, she could at least have the pleasure of looking at their sculptured bodies but that would not happen in this environment. Even though it was not brutally cold, the chill in the air and the wet environment could get dangerous. Once they were cold the risk of pneumonia was real. Y/N just hoped her camping knowledge was enough to not embarrass her in front of the hardened soldiers. Especially Syverson, she thought. Although she doubts that they would make fun of her, or expected much, she did have the need to be the teacher’s pet or the army’s man in this case.

She leaned her had against her best friend’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I let you convince me to come.” “Oh, common it’ll be fun. Cold sure but.” Y/BF/N leaned closer, whispering in her ear: “I am sure the boys have nothing against warming you up.” Gasping Y/N’s head shot up, drawing attention from Julie the girlfriend from Chutsky. “Oh gosh what did she do this time?” “What absolutely nothing! Just giving Y/N some tips to stay warm in this cold.” Y/BF/N added louder: “In a dangerous environment we all have to work together as a team, ain’t that right baby?” “You damn well are baby,” said Sgt Harper. Smirking at her in the rearview mirror. “I just hope we don’t have to hear any of your guys’ “teamwork”.” Said Chutsky earning a slap from Julie. “As if you could keep quiet,” Y/BF/N muttered under her breath. Making Y/N giggle.

They came to a stop in a small parking lot. No other car was in sight and the paths were covered in snow. The man started unpacking the van, everyone got a backpack with their stuff in it. A sleeping bag, dry kit, rations, 4L of water each, (the men got more in their back for things like cooking or making tea, but their girlfriend did not need to know that. It’s not like they did not believe they could not handle it but well dragging yourself through snow in the cold with added weight on their back was tough. And it was their first time doing this. They did not want to overwhelm them and eventually they want to do this again.) Y/n was concerned with the amount of water they had with them. It seemed not enough. Y/N had done tours with her dad when she was a teenager. He was in the army too and taught her everything he knows. When she told him, she would be going camping he immediately came over with everything she needed. The two practiced setting up the one man tent she had and how to use his camping cooker repeatedly until she could do it in her sleep. The thing about these things is one must do them several times, until they become muscle memory. Things can always go wrong; one could get cold and shaky which can make it more difficult to pull oneself together. The environment could change any moment and she would need shelter or something to keep her warm. Although she loved her dad, the old military captain came out every time he practiced with her. He would explain it once calmly and again if she did not understand but as soon as it was just repeatedly doing these things, he squared his shoulders and would pull her through the ringer, covering her in snow until she was freezing cold, yelling at her, timing her and telling her to build a fire, set up camp run for cover… When she told people that when she was younger it always seemed cool and exciting to them. It was but also exhausting, nerve wrecking and a bit annoying. It couldn’t be just hanging out with dad, instead it was lessons with the drill instructor. That was also the worst thing, her dad had not only been a Captain but also an instructor for sport exams, taunting and yelling is what he got paid for. She knew he wanted to help but it was kind of scary seeing her dad become this big army guy. At least she will not humiliate herself in front of the men now, so that’s a plus. She approached Harper when after scanning the list of all the stuff he instructed her to bring with her and to let him now if she needed anything (She conveniently left out who her father was) and asked about the water situation. He told her not to worry and that he would handle it. She knew Harper he would never do anything that could put her or Y/BF/N at risk, so she trusted him. Receiving her pack, she made her way to the side, checking if she had everything and patted herself down. She wore a tight shirt and a jumper over it. Over the jumper she had a fleece jacket which opened at the sides bit, under her armpits, this way she could cool down if needed without taking the jacket off entirely. Over this she had a rain jacket on, a scarf to pull over her nose and protect her neck from the cold. Sunglasses, hat, and gloves. On her legs she wore her skiing pants, with sturdy boots. She had some additional clothing in her backpack in case she got wet or she needed more layers if she got cold (dry kit). Like her father used to say, “once you are cold, you cold, ain’t nothing you can do about it and that shit ain’t funny.” Soon Y/N would find out how right her father was, being cold sucks but that doesn’t mean you cannot do anything about it.

When everyone had their pack, they held a quick briefing about where they where going and how long it would take. Captain Syverson lead that discussion making it hard for Y/N to concentrated. The way he squared up and spoke in clear manner enticed her far too much for her liking. She always promised herself not to fall for an army man. Not after she saw what it did to her mom. He informed them that they would get 8km in today. Which did not sound a lot but given the weight on their back, the fact that they were newbies and that the snow came up to their calves it was sure to be a long and grueling walk. The first couple of km were spent chatting and laughing. Even though one could see the exertion on the women’s faces, spirits were high. After they hit the halfway mark, they saw the sun disappear and grey took the place where blue was. The absent sun made their walk colder. Yet the men’s spirit did not deplete unlike the women’s. The men were running around as if they did not have 30kg strapped on their back. The women however were staring worriedly at the sky. “Let’s just hope we’ll make it to camp before any snowstorm or some shit hits us.” Y/BF/N whispered exhausted. Y/N could not agree more. It was one thing walking around in a winter wonderland another doing it in the harsh wet cold. She had started to feel the pressure of her backpack even though it only weight 10kg, significantly less than the men’s backpack. Marching in the snow is something you have to do often to get used to the resistance snow provided. Gritting her teeth, she went on. The exhaustion and the need to prevail against her environment made her feel alive in the most exhilarating and painful way possible. She never quit understood when her father told her that he missed the fight against nature that it was a good kind of pain. But it was true. The pain did feel good, it made her strife for the relief she will feel drinking tea by the fire tonight and the sleep she had wholeheartedly earned.

The weather got worse the longer their marched and the men slowed down making sure everyone was with them and okay. Enzo and Burton lead the way while Chutsky, Ocre were in the middle with their respective girlfriends, behind them trailed Y/N and Y/BF/N at the end were Syverson and Harper. Syverson checked the weather monitor to make sure that they were not walking into a snowstorm. They were only one more km from camp when the wind picked up and snow started to fall. It could have been the beautiful fat fluffy kind of snowflakes but no, they had to be the wet, almost rain like snowflakes, thought Y/N with an eye roll. Her breath was ragged but she was not breathless just tired. They made sure to stop and take breaks and walk in a pace that everyone could still hold a conversation. She could feel the exhaustions in her bones but was thankful that she was still warm. Once they reached camp the work was just beginning. They had to clean the fireplace, gather firewood for which they would have to find dry pieces in the forest, and if they could not find any they would have to cut away at the outer layer of the wood to reach the dry inside.

“Oh my god, I can’t feel my legs.” Julie said breathless, sitting down on the camping chair Chutsky had unfolded for her. It had taken them a couple of hours to reach their camp side and the women of the group were ready to sleep. “I should really start to exercise more.” Added Y/BF/N just as exhausted. Y/N was exhausted as well but did not want them to know. Syverson was standing nearby and could probably hear them. Her damn pride got in the way of that, so as soon as they reach the fireplace, she put her pack down, drank some water, and got to work. She cleaned the fireplace while the men gathered firewood. She told Ocre’s girlfriend Maureen to help her shovel out the snow while Julie and Y/BF/N rested. Maureen looked a bit tired but other than that seemed fine. Once they got the fire going Julie brewed them some tea, while everyone else made camp. They formed a circle of tens around the fireplace. Y/N was just unfolding everything when Syverson came over. “You need any help? He stood next to her looking down at the squatted Y/N. He had a cocky smirk on his face, his hands on his hips. He looked like the typical cool guy Y/N saw in movies, yet her heart gave a leap anyway. “No, I am fine thanks.” Came her quick reply. She turned around again getting to work but before she could start Syverson continued: “You sure doll? You must be tired, and it would be quicker if I helped you.” Lifting one brow at him. Even though the Captain was handsome she was not one to fall for a guy who thinks she needs help just because she is a woman. No, she would proof him wrong. After all she did not practice for nothing. Especially not to stroke a man’s ego. “As I said I am good.” Nodding he walked away a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “You know were to find me.”

Sy POV:

He was walking to his own pack, annoyed at her for not taking his help. I mean he was just trying to help! But Syverson knew that deep down he was mad at himself not her. Harper came over to him chuckling. “Well, this is how you get the ladies eh Sy? By acting all arrogant and cocky.” He whispered. Syverson just rolled his eyes and told him to fuck off. Getting to work he pulled up his tent, glancing at Y/N once in a while. She was right she did not need help. Like she had done it 100x she pulled up her tent. Normally it would intrigue Sy where she had learned it but now, he was even more annoyed. He wanted her to need help to have to interact with her. That was the whole fucking point of this camping trip, at least for Sy. To get close to her. He had seen her for the first time at a cookout and thought her beautiful, but she was always with Harper and Y/BF/N. She seemed not interested in anyone else there. So, he did not know how to approach her. When the guys were informed that they would be in the country for a while they came up with a plan to camp. When some of them complaint that their girlfriends probably won’t let them because they were apart for most of the time. Syverson suggested jokingly that they should come too. Somehow, they actually convince them. Harper had seen the looks Syverson gave Y/N and made it his mission to get her on the camping trip too, teasing Sy mercilessly. Looking over at her again he let his gaze wander. She looked cute covert in 100 layers. He should not hope that she would get cold once night settled in, but he did.

Part 2

Y/N POV:

The sun was slowly disappearing being the horizon when they were all set up. Chutsky and Julie had a tent, Ocre and Maureen, Harper and Y/BF/N, Enzo, Burton and Syverson shared a makeshift tent and she had her own one-man tent. It was too big for her, laid out more for a man with Syverson’s mass. It involuntarily made her think about the man sleeping in there with her to “conserve heat”, as Y/BF/N stated. She looked over and saw Syverson had set up their makeshift tent and got annoyed that even though she had a small one-man tent he was still quicker with a bigger. Rolling her eyes, she made her way to the campfire. “Y/N here tea.” Taking the tea from Julie gratefully she settled next to Y/BF/N. It was hard for her to engage with people she did not know so she usually stuck to Harper and Y/BF/N. She wanted to get to know the other people and made some progress with Julie, but it was still hard for her especially with the men. She never knew what to say and was afraid to sound dumb.

The longer the evening went on the rowdier the men got. They had whiskey with them and were laughing and relaxed. The women were noticeable more tired. Y/N chirped in occasionally but otherwise remained quite she felt the strain of the day, longing for bed. The longer the evening went on the colder she got. She hugged herself making herself as small as possible. She tried to suppress her shivers, but she was just so tried, and her eyes kept falling close. Syverson glanced over to her once in a while. When he saw her eyes drop, he got up. “It’s time to wrap this up. We need to be well rested for tomorrow. It will be a long day.” The women were thankful. They did not want to admit it, but they were longing for bed. The men’s gaze fell on the women seemingly catching Syverson’s drift and got up and started to clean up, getting ready for bed. Y/N could barely move anymore. She mumbled a good night and got into her tent. Pulling of her shoes and putting on some fluffy socks over her normal once. The cold was seeping into her even more noticeably away from the fire as she crawled into the sleeping bag. It was going to be a long night.

The camp settled down and the whispers slowly died down, but Y/N was still awake. Her body wracking with shivers. Her father was right. Once the cold was in your bones it was there to stay. She could barely move her toes felt frozen. Tears sprang to her eyes. No this was not how this was supposed to go. She needed to get warm, fast. But no matter how much she tried to will and scream in her head. Her body did not move. She was too tired and too cold. But she had to do something. She thought frantically, she could feel her body weaken more and more. And even though she wished for sleep to take her she feared that she would not wake up in the morning. It was minus temperatures (Celsius). By morning it would be too late if someone noticed her shivering. With all her willpower she maneuvered herself on her stomach. If she can get her stomach warm the rest of her body will follow. She was sure she read somewhere that all the heat in a woman is concentrated on her stomach when it is cold to make sure that a potential baby was safe. So, if she warmed up her stomach the heat would go back into her legs and arms. She lay there shivering for a while. Tears still swimming in her eyes, when a rustle caught her attention. Oh, please do not let it be a bear or some shit. She was not even sure if bears existed in these parts.

“Y/N”, a quite voice came. That was definitely not a bear. Although the man the voice belonged to resembled one with his big statute and the beard adorned on his face. “Sy?”, came her small voice. Her teeth clattering. Suddenly the tent door opened quickly and his face poked in. “Hey, you alright in here.” She wanted to nod and brush him off, but she was scared, she had never felt this cold in her life. Scanning her when she did not give an answer, he pulled himself in more. He had a thermos bottle in his hand. “I was just checking up on everyone”, he lied. He was only checking on her. “Thought you might need this.” He held out the thermos bottle. “Put it in the fire it should function as a hot water bottle now in case you are cold.” She wanted to answer but instead her teeth began to chattel again. Nodding slowly, she tried to reach an arm out, but she still could not move. “Y/N?”. “So cold,” she finally breathed out. Nodding he turned around. For a split second she thought he was going to leave her to her shivering but then he pulled of his shoes and climbed in. The one-man tent was big enough for her and maybe another her but with him it was more than crowded. Slowly he climbed on top of her. Making sure he had enough distance between them. If she was not so damn cold, she would have swooned at that. He braced himself on his side slowly unzipping her sleeping bag. The cold air rushed inside making her whine. “Hush baby girl. You gonna be warm in no time.” He quickly got in. Pulling her to her side and pressing her into him. He let out a small hiss when he felt her cold nose on his throat. “Damn doll, you made of ice or somethin’?” But she could not answer. Tears were once again gathering in her eyes making her sniffle. She buried her head in his warm chest relief flooding her. Syverson stiffened when he heard you small cries. If there was one thing, he could not handle in life then it was a woman crying. Pulling her closer to him he embraced her rubbing her back and intertwining their legs. “Hey doll, it’s okay. You gonna be warm in no time, okay?” Nodding slightly, she took a deep breath. His sent was filling her nose. Of firewood, sweat and something that made her heart flutter. Syverson continued to rub your back, slowly feeling her warmup. He was humming a small tune she could not identify. But it was comforting, nonetheless. Her limps got heavy with sleep and slowly she drifted off. In the arms of the Captain.

I might add my own pics next time. but the above looked pretty similar.

If you want to be tagged please be specific if you want the general taglist or a specific story. Thank you :)))) My posts often don’t show up in tags so please be sure to check my masterlist :))

Taglist:

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#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #syverson x you #syverson imagine #syverson headcanon #syverson fic

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michiieewrites · 4 years

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THORST COLLAB: Bakugou - Starving till I tasted you

A/N: First: IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, BEGONE FROM MY BLOG SINCE I WRITE MATURE CONTENT!! This one has been sitting in my documents for almost 2 months now. This week inspiration finally struck me once again tho!

This fic is actually a Thorst Collab between my lovely friends & I on Discord. I’m the first one to post mine, so I can’t wait to see what the others will write!

Now.

STRAP ON YOUR SEATBELTS CAUSE THIS MOTHERF!@#$%CKER IS 4.2K+ WORDS LONG

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

If someone told you a year ago that you would have enough money to pay off your student debt, buy your dream apartment, help out your family and friends, move abroad and drive in a ’67 Chevrolet Impala, you would’ve died laughing at the joke.

You told yourself it was stupid, buying that lottery ticket. But here you are; $100.000.000,- on your bank account. A young and now rich Omega in her prime. After making sure you had spend part of it wisely, you made sure to live the rest of your life on interest alone.

The first month had been nice. Decorating your new place, going out for dinner every day, getting a new wardrobe, spoiling yourself silly. You got new nesting materials, softer blankets and bigger pillows. It felt nice. Until it didn’t anymore. It started to feel pointless and empty. You felt like you were becoming one of those people that flaunt their money and that isn’t the type of Omega you are.

So here you are. Sitting in your peach colored dress and a numbered paddle in your hand. Tonight, you attend a charity auction. The charity was a rehabilitation program for criminals who want to get back on the right path.

The auction items aren’t exactly… items. They’re Pro Heroes. People could bid on having a date with some of the most desirable Pro Heroes, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, all of them. Even No. 1 hero Deku and No. 4 hero Red Riot are up for auction, both being Omegas.

One of the last dates are being auctioned and you realize you have been zoning out. Not having bid anything yet, you put up your paddle.

“Going once, going twice… SOLD TO NUMBER 917 FOR TONIGHT’S HIGHEST BID OF $300.000,-! A date with explosion pro hero Ground Zero!”

Oh lord. Yes! You got- wait… You got actually got it? You won a date with Pro Hero Ground Zero. Wasn’t he the one with the explosion quirk? Impressive power and always capturing the villains. What separates him from Deku is his social skills. Or lack thereof, to be more precise. Ground Zero isn’t really the type of hero to stick around the people he saved to see if they’re okay.

On top of all that he’s also an Alpha. Highly sought out by Omegas who want a pup, but not the Alpha. His genes are what people want, not the man himself. His personality also making it harder for people to approach him. And you just won a date with the most desired and aggressive Pro Hero Alpha there is.

“Oi!”

The voice behind you pulled you from your thoughts. The subtle scent of caramelized candy apples caught your attention. You turn around and find a handsome Alpha standing there. Arms crossed, cardinal red eyes watching you and his lips in an almost angry looking pout. This is the man you just bought yourself a date with.

“H-hi!” you manage to stammer out.

With a huff, he places a card on your table. You pick it up and see that it’s a business card from Ground Zero’s agency. At the bottom, writing in sleek handwriting, is a phone number. You look back up at him, ready to ask him why he gave this to you. But he’s already turning around and heading for the exit.

“Just contact me when you wanna plan that date things.”

And just like that, you had Ground Zero’s personal phone number.

~ A few days later ~

You’re sitting at a small booth, sipping on your matcha latte. You were a half hour too early, so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and order a drink before Bakugou would arrive. In his very first text he made it clear to call him ‘Bakugou’ and not by his hero name. He said that it would feel too much like an interview otherwise. In return you told him to just call you ‘Y/N’.

After some back and forth texting the last couple of days, you two agreed to meet up at a local coffee shop. Not a lot of people know about this shop. It’s small and the interior looks more like cozy living room than a flashy coffee shop. It was your favorite place to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee, tea or like right now, matcha latte.

Neither of you had any set plans for the rest of the day. Just kind of going with the flow seemed like the way to go. This would give you the freedom to hopefully have a quiet ‘date’. But you can’t really know that for sure when the person you’re on a date with is a Pro Hero.

The sound of the bell above the front door rings. You look up and see him walk in. Sitting all the way in the back, you can’t even smell him scent. Weren’t Alpha’s supposed to have very strong scents? Maybe he’s on suppressants?

He scans the shop, probably looking for you. His eyes land on you. He walks over and sits across from you. He leans back against the chair and swings his right arm over the arm rest while the left one is resting on the table. His eyes trail down from your face to the drink in your hands.

“I see you couldn’t wait for me to arrive,” he gruffly says.

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Sorry, I was super early. I hope you don’t mind.”

The silence that spreads between you two makes your Omega feel uncomfortable. Something doesn’t feel right and you’re starting to think that the Alpha in front of you truly doesn’t want to do any of this. So, to make it a little more bearable for yourself, you pump out a small amount of calming pheromones. Just to take the edge of this meeting.

Bakugou keeps looking at you. Until he finally picks up the menu card and says: “It’s fine. It’s your day, after all.”

He was right, you figured. But you still wanted him to have a pleasant time today too.

And so the day continues. The conversation isn’t very lengthy or deep. You discuss basic things like work, hobbies, favorite food. After a while the conversation kind of dies down. You suggest you two head out and into town. The man in front of you doesn’t seem overly thrilled about it, but still agrees.

When you go up to the front to pay, you hear him quickly walking up to you. He pulls your arm back. Surprised, you let out a small sound of shock and look up at him. A confused look is on his face and he pulls his hand away from you.

“The heck are you trying to do?”

Confused, you say: “Uh, paying?”

“I see that, but why? Omegas don’t pay when they’re with Alphas.”

Wow. At first you didn’t know how to respond to this remark. True, Omegas usually aren’t the ones paying on dates. In the past an Alpha would go out and hunt for their Omega. Since the hunting days are over and many Omegas work nowadays, treating them on dates are a way to show the Omega they can provide for them.

“Well,” you say as you hand over the money to the Beta barista behind the counter and thank him, “I don’t know about other Omegas, but I’m perfectly capable of paying for drinks too. I can provide just as well as any Alpha.”

You two walk outside and turn left to head into town. You’ve been meaning to go to the bookstore and hopefully find some new reading material. Two birds, one stone, right?

“Tsk, should’ve known a rich Omega like you doesn’t like to be told what to do,” Bakugou mumbles to himself.

You stop in your tracks. What? Was that really what he thought of you? A rich and snobby Omega?

Realizing you’re not walking beside him anymore, Bakugou turns around. Your head is bowed in shame. Normally your scent smells like peaches and hazelnuts, but now it turns into that of rotten fruit. You feel called out. For winning the lottery, for treating this Alpha to some drinks, for basically buying yourself a date with someone who clearly wishes to be anywhere else but here.

Your voice shakes, but you gather all your courage. “I’ll admit I was given a lot more financial freedom recently. And yes, I don’t like being told what to do. I believe everyone should be treated equally, regardless of their second gender. But I have never in my life asked for something. I was taught to work hard, to help people and to help and reward the people that help you.”

You pick up your head and look him straight in the eyes, politely smile and say: “I’m sorry you had to do this. This isn’t really how you planned your day would go. You can go, if you want to.”

As you pass him, determent to still go to the bookstore, you feel a weight being lifted from your heart. It really is unfair to the Alpha to make him go on a date with someone he doesn’t like. Deep down inside your Omega whines sadly. She recognized a good and safe provider in the Alpha, one who isn’t driven by hormones to just get an Omega pregnant. One who isn’t controlled their Alpha status. Too bad his Alpha isn’t interested in the Omega.

“Fuck, crap- wait! Shit!”

The cursing Alpha quickly catches up to you. He stops in front of you, holding up his hands to halt you. “Okay, fuck-just… let me explain.”

You cross your arms at him and wait for him to continue.

“Okay, so… Listen, I’ve been a real dick to you. Not just today, but basically since that charity event when I gave you my card. It was wrong of me assume anything about you. Shit Y/N, you’ve been nothing but nice to me. You don’t mind carrying the cost of a date, you’re not flaunting it around town that you’re spending time with a Pro Hero, you put up with my shitty responses and that isn’t how you should be treated. Or anyone for that matter! You deserve a proper date. So just, maybe I can make it up to you?”

By the end of his apology, Bakugou practically gives you angry puppy eyes in an attempt to ask for forgiveness. He reminds you of an angry Pomeranian. Smiling, you tell him that you forgive him. This day is supposed to be a fun one.

“But! You’ll have to carry the books I’ll buy as a punishment. And just so you know, I always come out with two shopping bags,” you tell him.

Bakugou just grins. “Fine. They’ll probably weigh nothing for me.”

Something in the air changes. A little sniff of your nose helps you identify the change. The scent coming from the Alpha next to you is slightly peaked. You heard that when an Alpha is preening their scents get stronger. You hardly think that’s the reason. Maybe it’s just because he’s in better mood now. Whatever the reason, you find yourself agreeing with your Omega; it’s a very nice scent.

~ An hour and a half later ~

“I’ve never met someone who spends over an hour inside a bookstore!”

“I told you when we came in that it could take a while,” you reply to Bakugou’s complaints.

“You do this with nesting stuff too? You know, blankets and shit,” he asks.

In both his hands, Bakugou is carrying a bag containing close to twenty books you can add to your bookcases back at home. Even underneath the sleeves of his hoodie you can see the muscles of his arms. He’s not as bulky as Pro Heroes Deku and Red Riot, but those muscles are pretty impressive. You bet your money that those thighs could squish a watermelon. You can practically feel the water filling your Omega’s mouth. She wants nothing more than to chomp down on those delicious shoulders. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind that either.

You remember you were asked a question. “I do. How else am I gonna know I made the right choice? All of those blankets and shit, as you put it, go in my nest. I’m at my best with a perfect nest.” A confident smile forms on your face and from the corner of your eye you can see Bakugou looking at you. A small smirk creeps up on his face.

While enjoying our little banter, you both failed to notice the Alpha towards the two of you. Until he opened his mouth. “I bet I can make your nest even better, little Omega.”

The other guy stops right in front of you, completely ignoring the Alpha next to you. You’re shocked and take a step back to create some distance between you again. But the guy doesn’t let up and steps closer again.

“No, now get lost,” you firmly say. This wasn’t the first Alpha-asshole you encountered.

“Awh, why the sour face, baby? Bet I’ll be more fun than the hedgehog here.”

“Oi, asshole! She said to get lost.” The smells of pheromones of two Alphas are dominating the air. The strongest one being the creepy guy, Bakugou’s not so much. You honestly confused on that point. With an Alpha as desirable as Bakugou, you truly expected a stronger scent.

You can’t help but release your own distressed scent. The tension is getting to you. Even other people noticed and are stopping to see how this plays out.

The creep briefly looks at Bakugou before returning his attention on you. “Come on, baby. Ditch this guy and then you and I can have our fun. What do you say?”

He extends his hand to put it on our waist and before you know it, you slap his hand away and punch him in the face. He stumbles back while cupping his now bleeding nose. Screaming in pain and shouting names at you. He’s beyond pissed; punched by a fucking Omega!

The adrenaline is pumping through you and every instinct in your body is telling you to run. Hide. Find an Alpha to protect you. You’re frozen on the spot. Your mind shutting down.

That’s when you feel a hand tugging you away. Your Omega recognizes the person this scent belongs to. Caramel candy apples. Bakugou.

You don’t know where he’s taking you. Your mind still processing things. All you know is to follow. ‘Cause he’ll lead to safety. Alphas keep Omegas safe. Follow. Safety. Alpha.

By the time you get to take in your surroundings, you realize you’re in an office. An office? What are you doing here? You look around and see a wooden desk with a black leather chair. A small bookcase, a closet and a couch with coffee table. A puffy black rug is covering the wooden floor, complimenting the one black wall behind you. The other walls are a tinted orange color.

The scent hanging in this office is… comforting. Soothing. Safe. You’re safe in here.

You’re seated on the couch. Wrapped in something soft. A blanket. A big, fluffy and soft blanket. The scent is even stronger on the blanket. You slowly inhale, imprinting this delicious mix of sweetness. After a couple seconds you finally notice the man next to you. Bakugou grins as he sees your focus shifting to him.

“I take it the blanket is approved,” he jokes.

You slowly nod. This small little cocoon makes you feel less vulnerable. Just like the presence of Bakugou next to you. It feels right. “Where are we?”

“Oh yeah, fuck. We’re at my agency. This is my office.”

You’re confused. “Your office? Why? I’m sorry, I kind of… froze. Can you tell me what happened afterwards?”

The smile that spreads on his face makes you feel funny inside. “What happened?! Y/N, you punched that fucker right in his fucking face! Shithead had it coming, tho. You just beat me to it. Omega or not, you know how to fight.”

You two look at each other and burst out laughing as you think back to that glorious moment. The creep definitely didn’t see your punch coming. It feels good to know the man next to you thinks you’re a decent fighter. He seems to actually be enjoying your company. Maybe he’s one of those people that are careful with who they get comfortable with. It feels good to know he feels like he can relax a bit more around you now.

You jokingly nudge him and say: “I bet I can even take you on, you big grump.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow is raised, grinning with his canines on display. “Prove it then.”

Knowing a challenge when you see one, you keep your eyes fixed on his cardinal ones and slowly lean in closer. Baring your neck to the side in submission to lure in his Alpha. Your Omega is very pleased by the motion. Just as he moves to lean in too, you throw the blanket in his face, grab his neck and shove him down on the ground. Stradling him and jabbing your elbow into his side, pressing your nails into the skin of his neck.

Smiling down at the man below you; “How’s that, Alpha?”

A short lived victory as he snarls and the two of you roll over, with Bakugou keeping you pinned underneath his weight. He may not look like it, but this man weighs a ton!

“If you’re trying to be a worthy opponent, why not call me by my first name? It’s ‘Katsuki’,” he breathes heavily atop of you.

Next to your ear you hear a low grumbling sound. Still seeing this as a playfight you laugh and reach back. Your fingers finding pressure points in his neck, making him let go of you. This gives you the chance to overpower him again and straddle him once more while holding his wrists above his head.

Victorious once again, you look down. Growling and teeth bared, the air around you growing thick. The smell surrounding you hits you like thunder. The caramelized candy apple scent overwhelming your senses. Your eyes travel down to his neck and see something you failed to notice before; gland patches. Patches to block someone’s scent from becoming too noticeable. That’s why the other Alpha smelled so much stronger. But now, now you’re drowning in it. You can pick up on rage, possessiveness and… arousal. As much as he’s growling and snarling at you, you know that he’s enjoying this too.

Chuckling at you, he cranes his neck. His face now closer to you than a moment ago. “I’m pretty sure I just got my ass handed by the most perfect Omega.” His words push through the alarm bells his instincts are sending off. His Alpha is not pleased about being pinned down. But as it takes in the Omega’s scent of peaches and hazelnuts, it can’t help but lie down and surrender itself to this tasty smelling Omega. An Omega that can fight back. An Omega that can hold him close. An Omega worthy of carrying his pups.

His Omega.

Before either can properly get out any words Bakugou has wrestled his hands free and grabs a hold of your hips while your hands pull his face closer and seal the distance between your lips. The taste of sugar coated apples is even stronger on his lips and you can’t get enough of it.

His fingers press deeply in your skin, kneading the flesh. His hips pushing upwards while holding you in place. The low rumbling sound in the back of his throat being accompanied by your mewling. You wanted more of him, your Omega needed more.

The Alpha makes his displeasure heard. You both part to breathe in fresh air. His lidded eyes are on fire and following every movement you make. Your hands slip down to his collarbones and settle on his shoulders. The path of your hands make Bakugou throw back his head. His body is pressing into yours desperately, like he has no control over it anymore. His growling increases in volume.

Through gritted teeth he manages to speak to you. “Fuck, Omega. What are you doing to me?”

Taking a leap of faith, you answer: “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I need capable Alpha to take care of me. Are you that Alpha, Katsuki?”

Before you can even blink, you’re being rolled over again. This time you’ll let him have his way. His hands are sliding their way up to your chest, grabbing the front of your shirt and tearing it apart. You try to protest, but you’re stopped by the warning growl of his Alpha. You lay back down and occupy yourself with running your fingers through his hair. Your gently massage making the Alpha let out a content sound.

Entranced by the man above you, you hardly even notice his onslaught on your clothes. And his own clothes. Getting those replaced will be a worry for later, your Omega decide. All you need to focus on right now is Katsuki. You want this Alpha to mate you and it needs to happen right now, or else your Omega just might perish on the spot.

That’s when you feel it. The hard and heavy feeling of his cock rutting itself against your core. Your body can’t help but react to it and release a good amount of slick. Katsuki’s mouth nipping along your collarbones as your bare you neck in submission. You feel his fangs graze your scent glands and you start to whimper desperately.

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep making those pretty noises,” Katsuki says.

“Yes, Alpha, yes. Just-ah shit! Just fuck me already!” you loudly exclaim.

Now who is Katsuki to deny such a nice plea from such a good Omega?

Wasting no time, he slides himself inside. The stretch making you cry out for more, deeper, more, anything he can give you. You just know you need more. Barely able to hold himself back from ramming himself inside and fucking you like you’re in a heat, he takes his time for your to fully take him in. A sigh of satisfaction leaves you both when he finally does.

Your legs wrap around his waist and try to pull him deeper in. Your fingers curl around his spikey locks and tug harshly to get him moving. Grunting, Katsuki finally complies. Being buried inside you sends him into over-drive. You feel too damn good around him. He feels too good inside you as he sets in a brutal rhythm. You’re pretty sure no other man could ever make you feel this good. No other Alpha could ever please your Omega ever again. Feeling his body slam into yours like his life depends on it is possibly the best feeling in the world. Your lungs are sending out a mix of his name, pleas for more, for him to go faster.

Katsuki can’t help it, he can’t stop himself anymore. He need to do this, he needs you, his Alpha needs to mate your Omega. Give her everything she wants and all that she’ll take. Only the best for his Omega, he will be worthy of giving her pups.

You can feel the base of his cock starting to inflate. His knot. His knot is growing. As soon as you notice, you start to claw at his back. A need filling you till the point you’re almost bursting.

“Alpha! Knot, please- Alpha, knot me- I need- Need your knot, Alpha!” you scream in desperation.

He wants to. Oh, he wants to so badly. But in the back of his mind there’s one braincell left that tells him that now is not the time nor the place. His Omega deserves better.

“You deserve better than to be knotted in my office, Y/N,” he moans, “please give me a chance to give you something better one day. I’ll be the best fucking Alpha there is!”

You love the sound of that. Something better. Somewhere in the future. A future with Katsuki. “Yes, Kastuki! Only you, you’re the only Alpha, please, I’m so cl-“

The moment he sinks his teeth into the flesh just above your collarbone, you’re send into a world of blinding lights and exploding fire. His name keeps falling from your lips. The waves of fire keep pulsing through your body.

The tight grip around him becomes too much for Katsuki. He needs to pull out or else he’ll knot you for sure. When he you keep chanting his name, he pulls out and covers you in thick, long, white streams of his cum. Covering you in his seed, marking you as his in an obscene, but beautiful way.

“Look at you, perfectly covered in my cum,” he pants.

You preen at the compliment. A content scent is released. The smell of a happily fucked Omega. Katsuki could get addicted to this smell.

With the shredded pieces of clothing he cleans you up. He pulls the blanket you discarded earlier over you both as he lies down next to you. Your tired and warm body cuddles closer to him. He drinks in your scent a you purr softly.

“What did you have the blanket for in your office?” you ask with a yawn.

Katsuki looks down at your half-asleep face. A smile forms on his lips as he gently kisses the top of your head.

“I kept it for my future mate.”

Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @thots4daze @hipster-merchant-of-death @aizawascumslut @strawbirb @ravenfeet222 @sailor-manga @yanderart @league-of-villians-headcanons

#bnha #bnha fic #mha fic #bnha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou #alpha bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou x reader #michiiee writes #bnha smut #bnha a/b/o #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #bakugou x reader #plus ultra #bakugou fic #bakugou smut

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hi eve! i was wondering if you would be interested in writing a coops shower fic, nothing smutty, just really soft and sensual and maybe comforting. i’m going through a tough time right now and your writing always cheers me up. thanks <3

Yes! This was combined with an ask for Coops' first day/ night living together--I hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for showering together (nothing smutty, just fluff)

They tumbled through the front door in a mess of laughter and rainwater—Remus’ soaked sneakers slipped on the floor and he skidded into Sirius, who was still blinded by the damp hair hanging in his eyes. “Shit!” Remus spluttered around his breathless grin as they struggled to keep their balance. “Baby, baby, grab the door—”

The front door slammed shut and steadied them just as another bolt of lightning cracked overhead; they stood in the entrance, panting and drenched, before Sirius’ chest began to shake beneath Remus’ cheek once more. “Mon dieu,” he snickered, leaning his head back against the heavy wood. “Which god did we piss off?”

“I’m taking this as a good sign.” Remus shivered as he shook his raincoat out on the welcome mat. “A fresh start, and all that symbolism.”

“Okay, college boy.”

He peeled one wet sock off and snapped it at Sirius’ hip, but the extra water weight made him miss by a mile and Sirius just shot him a teasing grin while he wriggled out of his tshirt. “I told you to bring a jacket,” Remus said wryly as his head got stuck. “But oh no, sweetheart, it’s totally not going to rain today. The weatherman is always wrong, it’s been sunny all week—”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled from the depths of wet fabric, waving one hand in his general direction. “You’re very smart.”

“Do you want first shower?”

Sirius’ cheeks were pink when he finally freed himself, both from his efforts and their mad five-block dash home. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Aren’t we showering together?”

Remus shrugged. “Hey, it’s your house.”

“Our house,” he corrected, taking the hem of Remus’ shirt and helping him pull it over his head.

A little flurry of joy ran through Remus’ gut at his words; goosebumps broke out over his freezing skin, and he could feel a dopey smile spread over his face. Ours. Most of his stuff had been living at Sirius’ for a couple days, but he had only brought the last of it over and dropped his key off with his landlord that morning. The last six hours had been filled with delirious happiness every time he remembered. “Then lead the way, captain.”

Sirius kissed his chilly nose and took him by the hand—both their palms were clammy and half-numb from the rain, and Remus didn’t care one bit. Stripping down was significantly more difficult when every article of clothing seemed dead-set on becoming a second skin, but after a handful of minor mishaps and more than one muffled curse, they were finally standing under warm water.

Remus closed his eyes with a sigh, letting the steam wrap around every inch of him. His apartment may have been comfortable, but it was severely lacking in water pressure and heat compared to Sirius’ house.

Our house.

He hummed to himself and stepped back until his shoulder blades were pressed to Sirius’ chest; there was a low laugh, then callused fingers running through his hair. “What are you thinking about?”

“Our house,” he answered, turning to stand on his toes and place a kiss to Sirius’ lips. It was chaste and unhurried; there was no time constraint on how long they could spend there. Remus didn’t have to worry about getting home too late, or whether he had brought enough stuff to stay the night. Everything he wanted was within reach.

Sirius smiled against his lips and draped his arms over Remus’ shoulders, tugging playfully on the wet curls at the base of his neck. “Good thoughts?”

“Always,” he said immediately. “This is…it’s so good, Sirius. So good. I am so happy.”

Their next kiss was deeper, but there was no real heat behind it, even as Remus curled his hands around the sharp peaks of Sirius’ hips. “I love you,” Sirius murmured when they pulled back for air. He bumped their noses together. “And I can’t wait to have you here all the time.”

“You don’t have to wait at all.”

His grin widened and he kissed Remus again. “I know.”

Remus nuzzled into the side of his neck and relaxed into the soapy slide of Sirius’ hand down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until the hot water started pouring over him, and sudden sleepiness trickled into the edges of his thoughts like rain through a gutter. The steam turned minty fresh as Sirius washed the expanse of his shoulders, then his neck, then all the way down each arm; he dropped a teasing pinch to Remus’ ass, but moved right back up to rub his thumb in the crook of one elbow.

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” he asked quietly against Remus’ temple.

“Mmm, please,” was all Remus could muster in response.

He had never really understood the hype about physical affection before he met Sirius. Sure, hugs from his parents and Jules were amazing, and fist bumps from the guys always made him feel included, but the gravitational pull Sirius had was like nothing he had ever felt. It was impossible to be uncomfortable if Remus was within five feet of him—impossible to feel unsafe when he fit so neatly in the dip of one shoulder.

“Love you,” he said around a slow exhale as Sirius began combing the conditioner through his hair. It was almost long enough to flop into his eyes, something that seemed to delight Sirius any time he saw it.

Warm lips brushed the shell of his ear for a moment. “You smell like la lavande.”

“Lavender?” Sirius hummed his approval and Remus raised his head just enough to kiss the water off his collarbone. “Do you like it?”

“Love it.” Sirius glanced down at him with a sideways smile, making one dimple pop. “Love you. Where did you get this?”

“Walgreens.”

That startled a laugh from him, which set Remus off as well. “Walgreens? Really?”

“I ran out one day at, like, midnight and it was the closest place. It smelled nice, so I just kept on buying it.”

Sirius shook his head with the same awed look on his face. “The secret to illegally soft hair is Walgreens conditioner. Amazing. My hair would riot.”

Remus frowned. “Your hair looks incredible even after you swim in salt water all day.”

“And then it tangles, and frizzes, and—” He paused. “Comment dit-on une colère? Like a toddler?”

“A tantrum?”

“Ouais.” Remus tilted his chin back obediently to let him wash the conditioner out. “It throws a tantrum. See, this is why I need you around all the time.”

“I have never seen your hair throw a tantrum before.” Sirius’ cheeks flushed and he bit his lip around a smile; Remus poked him lightly in the chest. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s an awfully big smile for nothing.”

His silver eyes shone as he placed yet another gentle kiss to Remus’ lips through the water running down both their faces. “You get to see it all the time now. No more going back to your apartment after we go places.”

“You’ll be subjected to my bedhead every morning,” Remus teased, resting their foreheads together as he reached for the soap.

“I love your bedhead.”

“I’m counting on it.” He took the bar of soap and ran it along the planes of Sirius’ chest, then around his back to trace every muscle. He could feel Sirius’ gaze on him with each movement and warmed from the inside out at the attention. Every bit of rainy cold that had snuck under his skin vanished in the minutes of comfortable quiet.

Thunder rolled through the sky when they finally turned the shower off and wrapped up in Sirius’ fluffiest towels—Remus’ own were significantly less fancy, but they remained in the linen closet on equal standing. It was silent things like that that made him love Sirius just a little bit more.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” he said as Sirius started pulling his sweatpants on.

“Hey!” Sirius protested when Remus took both the pants and his soft tshirt right out of his hands, winding the towel back around his waist with an awkward hop. “I’m going to get cold!”

“Five minutes!” Remus called over his shoulder as he hurried down the stairs with their clothes. “I promise it’s worth it!”

It would be a drizzly night; grand plans of takeout and a movie ran through his head and he did a small happy dance in the laundry room as he tossed their clothes in the dryer. His dryer. Their dryer. “Mine,” he murmured, running a hand over the top of the machine. It was a wild thought, and one he would have to get used to. He still instinctively checked the clock from time to time before remembering that he would be staying for—

Forever.

The thought came before Remus could really process it and he leaned against the dryer with an unsteady breath. It was only his first real day in the house, and already he was thinking about…that. About staying forever. It wasn’t as scary as he had imagined.

“Mon loup?” Sirius peeked around the doorjamb in confusion, still fiddling with the tucked side of his towel. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a trick that I learned from my mom,” Remus said rather than getting into the specific train of thought that probably left him looking like he had been whacked with a frying pan. “Do you want to do takeout for dinner?”

“I…kind of wanted to get dressed.”

Remus patted his hip as he passed. “Five minutes, baby. Where should we eat?”

“You pick.”

Forty minutes later, Remus found himself tucked under the blanket his mother had given him when he went away for college with his boyfriend and a box of takeout Thai food. Their clothes were still warm from the dryer—he would never forget the pure bliss on Sirius’ face when he got dressed and was instantly cocooned in heat—and Sirius’ hair was still half-damp from their shower, curling in little wings over his ears. It felt like worlds colliding. Somehow, Remus was just fine with that.

“Hey,” he said quietly as the exposition continued on screen. Sirius glanced over with his fork halfway to his mouth. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looked around the living room—their living room—that had seemed so empty the first time he saw it. They could put pictures on the wall by the back door, and one box of his books still laid unopened by the shelves. He could bring out his grandmother’s quilt in the winter. A month from then, two months, ten months. “I’m happy here.”

Sirius’ breath caught for a moment before a hoodie-clad arm slid between Remus’ back and the couch and guided him over to rest his head on Sirius’ chest. His lips were slightly spicy from the curry when he kissed him. “I’m happy when you’re here,” Sirius said, hardly above a whisper. “I miss you when you’re not.”

Remus breathed in the smell of his—their—laundry detergent and felt his heart give a hard thump. “You don’t have to miss me anymore.”

“C’mere.” There was a shuffle as Sirius set both their food boxes on the coffee table and paused the movie, then shifted around so Remus was laying on his chest. He pulled the blanket all the way up to their shoulders and slipped one warm hand up Remus’ shirt to rest on the small of his back; his eyes were bright in the semi-darkness. “Stay with me.”

Remus didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #living together #shower #rainy day

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redorich · 3 years

Note

'The egg told me to, and I listened - why did I listen?' Oh my god that just tore my heart out. Jesus Red, you can't just write that and then FOLLOW UP WITH AN ABSOLUTELY DESOLATE PORTRAYAL OF THE OTHER EGG MEMBERS COMMING TO GRIPS WITH WHAT THEYVE DONE. I am devastated. And its your fault.

Can I perhaps request a small crumb of hope for them? Maybe Bad and Skeppy meet and Bad falls to his knees, collapsing yet again under the reality of what he's done to Skeppy, throat chocked with horror and apologies that come to late and mean to little? And yet, despite everything, Skeppy takes a step towards him? A small ray of hope for them? For all of them, as they come together with each other and those they have hurt and try to cope and make amends? Pwease???

this is canon sorry fidget please dont kill me

(ok but for real now)

It starts out small. Little things are left on Skeppy's doorstep: a peony, a diamond, a pair of fuzzy socks. Skeppy doesn't have to take them, but he does. He takes Bad's little peace offerings, and it douses Skeppy in a hollow, cold anger every time he wakes up in the morning to see that Bad's gone through the effort to leave a trinket on the doorstep of the mansion they built together. It means Bad was here some time in the middle of the night and he didn't bother to see Skeppy face-to-face.

The house is devoid of furniture, devoid of any living touch that makes it a home. They hadn't gotten to that part yet, not before the Egg happened. It kills Skeppy inside to exist day after day in the hollow shell of what he and Bad made together. It's not like Skeppy couldn't just move out; he could live with someone else, make a new home all by his lonesome, or just straight up disappear into the woods. With Bad avoiding him, though, this is all Skeppy has left.

When wind whistles through the cracks in the glass late at night, snakes around the staircase, and gently rustles the bushes outside, Skeppy indulges in the sickening idea that perhaps Bad doesn't regret killing Skeppy as much as one might think, that the Egg didn't have to coerce him that much, that this has all been some prank to get back at the man who's always making a joke at someone else's expense. In the light of day Skeppy is more sure, knows that Bad cares about him, but what Skeppy needs now more than ever is support. The house is far too empty.

Skeppy sits up all night, more than once, just watching the doorstep and waiting for Bad to show up. He doesn't, until he does.

In the few moments it takes Skeppy to go inside for a blanket and come back to the doorstep, Bad hops down from the roof above and lands quietly on the stairs. He's crouched down to the ground, holding a blueberry muffin, when Skeppy returns. They lock eyes and Bad freezes.

Skeppy wants to say a million things and has no words for any of them. His jaw remains clamped shut; he doesn't know what'll come spilling out of it otherwise.

"...Hey," Bad finally says. He pauses for a long while, then follows up with, "Sorry. For not coming sooner."

Skeppy watches Bad stand, eyes half-lidded and apathetic. "If I hadn't caught you, would we even be talking right now?"

"Probably not," the demon admits with a wince. "I'm sorry, I just--"

"Do you even care that you killed me?" Skeppy demands. It's like a stopper has been loosed from his throat, and all the words are tumbling out. "Why did you leave me alone?"

Bad takes a step back, holding the muffin to his chest. "...I'm sorry."

"Did you even think about me, Bad? I missed you, and I'm so mad at you for avoiding me, and-- and--" Skeppy clutches the blanket around his shoulders. The wind blows stronger, and silent lightning flashes in the clouds far away.

"I'm sorry," Bad repeats.

"Stop apologizing!" Skeppy yells, both angry and defeated. "Just... just tell me why."

The demon fidgets under the weight of Skeppy's disapproval. "When I realized what I did to you, I was so horrified, Skeppy... and I was scared. I didn't want to hurt you again."

"You did."

Bad winces again. "I know. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Skeppy's shoulders slump. "Don't leave me alone," he says softly.

"I won't," Bad swears, "never again. I'm so sorry, Skeppy."

Reaching out for a hug, then faltering at the possibility of rejection, Bad's arms hang awkwardly in the air. Skeppy huffs, tossing the blanket about his shoulders around Bad as well.

"Are we... still friends?" Bad asks hesitantly.

"Stupid," Skeppy says. "Of course we are."

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #skeppy #badboyhalo #me.cpp

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Every part of you

Request: Something just fluffy and domestic would be so nice...missing that old man. Maybe something like baking with him? Fluffy smut or just fluff, I would be really happy to see you write either. 💕

Warnings: Smut, blowjob, p in v, unprotected sex, kitchen sex

Words count: 2,4k

Joel Miller x Reader. Insecure Joel. No virus, no apocalypse. Divorced!Joel.

* * * * *

After his divorce with Sarah’s mother, Joel entered years of celibacy, except for the occasional hookups. He didn’t want to go down that road again, his marriage wasn’t the best one but he loved his wife and expected it to last forever, like they promised each other.

But things changed when he met you over a year ago.

It was one of those nights where his brother Tommy dragged him to a bar. You were there with some friends and the first thing he noticed about you was your smoking hot body. And before he knew it, Tommy brought you to their table to have a drink with them.

It was supposed to be one of those hookups. No strings attached. In the morning, he would’ve left and you probably wouldn’t have never met again.

But he broke rule number one on the first night anyway: never take someone home. He always found a way to go to his partner's place, or at least, found a place to do it, but never at his place. His home.

Until you.

Once you were done, he realized how young and innocent you looked. He could see the struggle on your face, as to whether you should leave or stay. He felt bad about himself and told you to stay. You warmly smiled and faxed yourself under the covers, your warm form curled up against him.

In the morning, he woke up to the smell of coffee and French toast. As you had breakfast together, you told him a bit about yourself and Joel found himself to be interested.

You left your phone number and two weekends later - he spends every two weekends with his daughter - Joel invited you for a drink. Which turned into a few ones. Which turned into taking you home again.

That was over a year ago. Now, you’re moving in with him.

He didn’t expect for it to happen. It’s just that when you mentioned wanting to move out from your crappy apartment, he simply told you to come live with him and Sarah. His teenage daughter is very fond of you, and Joel is deeply in love with you. There’s no reason this could go wrong, is there?

But somehow, it caused your first fight.

It was hard to fit two homes into one, and Joel wasn’t compromising at all. He didn’t want to get rid of anything.

“You have to meet halfway, Jo.” You told him, clearly annoyed.

“I am. I just don’t want to get rid of my couch. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, for starters, mine is fairly new, bigger and way more comfortable. But it’s not just about the couch. It feels like you don’t want me to move in after all,” you said with such sadness in your voice, Joel felt horrible.

“I asked, didn't I?” He answered, defensively.

“Probably because you felt bad about my struggle to find a new place. Just like you felt bad after our first night together.”

“…What?”

“I’m not stupid, Joel. I know you didn’t want me to stay at first.”

“But you did.”

“Well, yeah. Because it was my first time hooking up with someone I just met. And—“ you took a deep breath. “I really don’t want to compliment you right now, but the sex was—mind blowing.”

You obviously were still pretty mad but Joel couldn’t help but smirk in his beard. Sex with you is indeed pretty mind blowing. There’s love, trust, passion, and you’re open-minded concerning his kinks. He never witnessed that before. Actually, he discovered new kinks with you, pretty much like if you were his very own kink.

“Take that smirk off your face. That’s unfair.” You breathed out.

Joel closed the distance between your bodies, and gently kissed your forehead. “Letting you stay that night was the best decision I’ve made in a very long time,” he kissed your nose. “I’ll get rid of the couch.” Then he kissed your lips and moved to your neck. “Let’s ruin it before.”

You chuckled and you did ruin his old couch.

A few weeks later, you were all moved in. Joel was exhausted, he fell asleep on your - extremely - comfortable couch. You covered him with a blanket and took care of the last details before cooking dinner.

Your parents had been owners of a restaurant for the past thirty years, your father being the chef and your mother doing pretty much the rest. You spent most of your time in the establishment as a child, and your father happily shared his know-how with you.

In the past year, Joel had barely spent time in the kitchen, as it became your space. Not that he minded.

He does mind the weight he’d been gaining though.

He woke up to the smell of one of your dishes, two hours after falling asleep. He could hear you doing your thing in the kitchen. He smiled, stretched himself and when his mind seemed awake enough, he joined you.

You felt his strong arms wrapping your middle, and took advantage of your messy bun to plant wet and sloppy kisses in your exposed neck. You felt shivers all the way through your body. “Hi handsome. Sleep well on the couch?”

“Bite me.” He growled against your skin and you chuckled.

“Did that last night.” You said, referring to the bite mark you left right on top of his shoulder. He had made you cum so hard, you didn’t control yourself.

“I love when you mark me.” He whispered in your ear, nipping your ear lobe.

“Good, I’m taking you for a scarification tomorrow. My name, right above your penis.”

“Hmm,” Joel was still planting kisses anywhere he could and you could feel his growing erection against your ass. It was getting really difficult to focus on the marinade in front of you. “I can meet you halfway and agree to get a tattoo.” You laughed but somehow imagined it. It would ruin any relationship for him if you two ever break up. “Only if you do the same, obviously.” He added.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

He hummed in answer and you felt his hand playing with the waistband of your sweatpants. But you slapped his hand away before he could slide it in. “Put your hands to other use for now. Cut the onions for me,” you playfully rubbed your ass against his crotch but only to push him away.

Joel let go of you and looked around to find the onions. “Wow. I like punishment but only if I know what I did wrong.”

You laughed before throwing two onions at him, which he almost missed. As he began to peel them off, you gently grabbed the knife from his hands and squeezed a lemon on the blade. Joel looked at you, lovingly. “There. You won’t cry.” You said, handing him the knife.

“Huh, we’ve been dating for a year and you’re only telling this trick, now? I thought you loved me.” He used his best complaining voice, and he felt your hand slamming against his ass.

“What will we talk about in ten years if I tell you everything now?” You casually asked and it caught Joel off guard. He stayed silent while cutting the onions in small squares and you didn’t push it. You focused on your marinade and checked on the steamed vegetables.

“Are you picturing us still together in ten years?” He finally asked once he was done. He gave you the bowl with the onions in it.

“Well—yeah. Don’t you?” You took the bowl from his hand, preparing the pan in order to cook them.

Joel sighed. It had been a struggle since you two started to date. Your relationship had been so perfect, you had been an amazing partner, it almost feels surreal to me. “I guess my marriage broke a part of me.” He paused, staring at you cooking. “It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

As you ditched the onions in a hot pan, a soft smile appeared across your face. “That will happen when your alien friends will come to pick you up, in order to bring you back to your home planet.”

Joel couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t believe you were real. He stared for a moment. You are so beautiful, young, funny and smart, with the biggest heart. How did he got so lucky?

He jumped on the part of the kitchen plan you weren’t using. “Or when I got so fat from your cooking, you’re not attracted to me anymore.” He finally said and you stopped everything you were doing.

“…what?”

“I gained a few pounds lately.” He confessed, avoiding your eyes this time.

“Yeah so?”

“Oh so you’re agreeing? Not even something like ‘honey that’s crazy, you haven’t changed a bit.’?”

"I'm sorry. Let me do this again.” You took a step back and got into character. “Joel! Are you crazy? You didn’t gain any pounds. Are those masculine magazines making you feel bad, again?”

“Wow. Don’t quit your day job to become an actress.”

You playfully punched his shoulder and he let out an “ouch!”. “But seriously love,” it was your loving and smoothing tone again. “Do you really feel bad about this?”

“Kinda. I’m already older than you, I can’t have that too.”

“Baby,” you settled between his legs and tiptoed to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect to me. I don’t care about your age, your weight, your height, the size of your—okay that, I do care but still.”

Never a woman made him laugh like you manage to. No matter the subject, the time of the day, his mood or your mood, you’re always able to bring a smile to his face. He’s so in love with you. “Do you get my point or do I have to take you upstairs to show it to you?” You stroked his beard and Joel leaned into your touch, humming in content.

“I won’t mind the show. But I’d rather have you showing me—here.”

“I better stop cooking and focus on my other hobby then.” You turned off everything and invited him to get down. “My favorite actually.” You whispered, before kissing him gently.

“Please do.” He pleaded, sticking out his tongue in order to meet yours.

As you kissed, you brought him against the wall of the kitchen. He moaned at your sudden dominance, and you felt his semi hard cock against your belly. Joel tried to travel under your tank top with his hands but you prevented him access. You quickly worked taking his tee-shirt off, throwing it on the floor. Your lips immediately crashed against his hairy chest, while your hands were softly caressing it. “I love you, Joel.” you whispered against his skin. “I love every part of you that you don’t.”

It was overwhelming. Never in his life has Joel felt this loved, this attractive. It was such a mix of feelings, he could have cried on the spot as well as fucked you senseless. But he only stood there, panting hard as you were taking his sweatpants and briefs off. He stepped out and you threw it away, next to his shirt. He was dying to undress you, to feel your smooth skin against his, but he knew better.

You kneeled in front of you, taking his hard member in your hand. You looked up to him with your big and loving E/C eyes. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamt of,” you said. “Call me crazy but I’d follow you to your damn home planet.” you confess, referring to what you said a moment ago.

Joel intensely stared at your mouth when you gave him a first lick. This view was so damn perfect.

You teasingly played with your tongue against his cock before taking him in your mouth. Joel moaned, deeply and you sucked him for a moment, not taking all of his length yet. Your jaw needed to relax first. No matter the amount of time you’ve seen his cock, you’re always amazed about how thick and long he is.

Joel’s hand grabbed your hair bun into his fists, guiding you. When you were ready, you took all of him inside your mouth, your nose buried in his pubic hair. “Fuck, baby!” he growled as his cock hit the back of your throat. “God I love your mouth so much.”

You kept going for a moment until you felt his urge growing. Joel was basically facefucking you, thrusting his cock deep inside your mouth. But you weren’t done with him yet, so when only a trail of saliva was connecting you to his length, you took advantage and got back on your feet.

You passionately kissed him, allowing him to taste himself. “Sit on the chair.” You ordered him and Joel obeyed.

You striped in front of him as he was lazily stroking his painfully hard cock. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y/N.” he said before you straddle his lap.

“So are you, Joel.” He almost didn’t catch that - maybe because a part of him didn’t want to - as you guided his cock into your wet cunt. He was stretching you open, it almost hurt but you kept going until he was fully inside you.

“So fucking tight.” he growled against your neck.

You settled for a slow pace at first. Joel’s face was buried in your chest, assaulting your rounded breasts. One of his hands was in the small of your back, following your hips movements. “You feel so good inside me.” you moaned, your hands buried in his hair. He was so deep inside you, you two almost could hear every time he reached your end. “I’ll never be able to be with anyone else but you.”

His urge was coming back and yours was building up. You quickened the pace, and Joel furiously rubbed your clit with his hand. “Yes Joel, right there!” he looked up at you and crashed his lips on yours. You could feel his fingers digging on your hip, while yours did the same on his scalp.

“I’m gonna cum.” he warned you, thrusting as fast as he could.

“Me, too. Don’t stop,”

“Never.”

It was a closed call but you came practically at the same time, both crying each other’s name.

You stayed in the same position as you and Joel came down from your high. You held him close against you, feeling his cock softening inside you. You were both panting. “Every part of me, huh?” he said.

“Every single one.”

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us part 2

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timelesslords · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got This Fever

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth catches the flu, and domestic fluff ensues

Annabeth woke up in pain.

This wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. Being a demigod, Annabeth was no stranger to pain. She’d had broken bones, burns, cuts, stab wounds…. you name an injury, Annabeth Chase had probably experienced it.

But this was a different kind of hurt, a hurt Annabeth hadn’t felt in a long time. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Her muscles ached, and even the soft sheets and pajamas she was wearing felt like knives on her skin. Despite being under a mountain of covers, she was shivering, bitterly cold.

There was no doubt about it. Annabeth was sick.

Annabeth never got sick.

She groaned, sitting up. That turned out to be a bad idea as a wave of nausea rolled over her, and she lowered herself back onto her pillows, falling the last half of the distance. She felt Percy shift beside her, woken from her movement.

“Hey,” he said, the smile fading quickly from his face as he saw her own expression, which was probably nothing short of miserable. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like crap.”

She surprised even herself with how horrible her voice sounded, raspy and dry. Percy frowned, reaching out and touching her forehead. He normally ran hot, but now his fingers felt cool against her skin, almost painfully so.

“You’re burning up.” he said, frown deepening.

“I’m freezing.” Annabeth croaked. As if to prove her point, she shivered involuntarily.

“That’s the fever talking.” Percy said grimly, “Hold on.”

He climbed out of bed. His warmth left with him, and Annabeth was left just that much colder, trembling under the covers. Percy couldn’t have been gone more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

When he returned he was holding a thermometer and a glass of water.

“Temperature first. The water might mess with the reading.” He said, apologetic. She wanted to hate him for that because she was so thirsty she thought she might die, but she knew he was right.

Annabeth sat up slowly. Thankfully this time she just felt a little dizzy and not nauseous. The thermometer was cold and uncomfortable under her tongue, but Percy kept a steadying hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb. With her oversensitive skin it almost hurt, but she leaned into the contact anyways.

When the thermometer beeped, Percy traded it for the glass of water. Annabeth nearly downed the entire glass in one gulp.

“A hundred and one.” he announced, flipping the display so she could see. The number was lit up in red, signaling that she did, in fact, have a fever.

“I can’t be sick. I have class.” Annabeth said. Her voice was a little improved by the water, but she still sounded kind of terrible.

“Just email your professors and tell them you can’t make it.” Percy said, as if this were the easiest thing in the world.

For him it probably was. He did his best with school, but he also wasn’t opposed to ditching class every once in a while and blaming it on a fabricated stomach bug, something Annabeth found absolutely abhorrent. She hadn’t missed one class in her entire college career, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“It’s fine. I’ll just take some tylenol and I’ll be good to go.” Annabeth said. Percy gave her an exasperated look.

“Beth. You probably have the flu, you can’t go to class like this.”

“It’s just a little fever.” Annabeth protested. Really, she was already starting to feel better. It was just waking up that had been the hard part, and some ibuprofen would knock her headache and high temperature right out. Percy didn’t look so convinced, but what did he know.

“If you say so.” Percy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Annabeth looked at him suspiciously.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” she asked. Percy just gave a shrug, though his expression was a stubborn one.

“Nope. You can go right ahead.” Percy said, gesturing his hand off the bed. There was no way he should be giving up this easily, but if he wasn’t going to argue with her, Annabeth wasn’t going to be the one to start it.

She swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, glancing again at Percy. He gave her a go ahead look, so she did. The second she tried to put weight on her feet, her vision blacked out and her knees buckled. She would have fallen flat on her face if Percy hadn’t been waiting there to catch her. Her headache immediately doubled in intensity, and Annabeth groaned.

“Still wanna go to class?” Percy asked. He at least had the decency to sound sorry for her, even though making fun of her would have been just as deserved.

“That was mean.” Annabeth complained. Percy lowered her back into bed, gently pushing her shoulder so she would lie down again. Annabeth didn’t need so much convincing this time.

“It was the fastest way.” Percy said apologetically, brushing some hair out of her eyes “You would have fought me on it all day, otherwise.”

Annabeth sighed, but didn’t deny it. She probably would have been unbearable. She probably still was going to be unbearable.

“How am I sick? I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu in my life.” Annabeth said. She glanced upwards at Percy, who was looking very much like he was trying to not say something.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” he said quickly, but Annabeth knew his expressions better than her own, and she knew when he was holding back.

“You’re thinking something.” Annabeth said accusingly. A smile cracked through his holding-back face.

“Should I not be?” he asked.

“You know what I mean.” Annabeth grumbled.

“Okay. I mean, I’m sure your immune system is very high-quality. I mean, it's yours, how could it not be?”

“Stop trying to butter me up.” Annabeth said, but she couldn't keep a smile all the way off her face.

“Who said I was buttering you up? I was complimenting your robust immune response” Percy said innocently, still grinning.

“Now you’re trying to distract me, but it won’t work.”

This was a complete lie. If he tried a little harder, it probably would work, and he knew it as well as she did. He caved anyways, which meant he probably did actually want to tell her what he was thinking.

“Okay, fine.” Percy said, “I was just going to say, you spent most of your winters at camp, which is totally isolated from the outside world, which means you haven’t really had a real flu season since you were like seven.”

“I went to boarding school.” Annabeth reminded him.

“Yeah, and you spent winter breaks at camp, or at your dad’s.”

He neglected to mention that she had spent one such break kidnapped by Luke and forced to carry the weight of the sky, which would have proved his point further, but Percy was not so ruthless during little discussions like these that he needed to bring up every last piece of evidence. Annabeth envied that restraint sometimes.

“Are you trying to tell me that my immune system probably actually sucks because it hasn’t been exposed to anything real since I was eight?” Annabeth asked. Percy bit his bottom lip.

“You said it, not me.” he said, with an apologetic shrug. Annabeth groaned again, rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face in her pillow. The sudden movement did nothing to relieve her headache; in fact it started pounding away with renewed vigor.

“But I got my flu shot and everything.” Annabeth complained, “I wash my hands all the time.”

“If you hadn’t gotten your shot you’d be feeling twice as bad right now, believe me.” Percy said. Between his ADHD-induced forgetfulness and his living in the city during flu season, Annabeth was inclined to trust him on that one.

“What do I do?” she asked, turning her face halfway off the pillow so she could look at him again. The sympathetic look he was giving her did not make her optimistic for his answer.

“Drink a lot of water and wait for it to pass.”

“That’s it?” Annabeth asked in disbelief.

“And keep an eye on your temperature.” Percy amended, “If it goes over a hundred and three I’m taking you to the ER.”

“Modern medicine is a sham.” Annabeth said. That elicited a laugh from him, at least.

“Go back to sleep. You can send your emails later.” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear.

“I don’t know if I can.” Annabeth said, and it wasn’t even a lie or her being stubborn. She was still freezing somehow, shivering even though she was under blankets again.

In response, Percy crawled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest, stealing his warmth, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

“You have class.” Annabeth protested. She felt his laugh, a sturdy vibration in his chest, more than she heard it.

“Not anymore. I’m probably just as contagious as you at this point.”

Annabeth tried again.

“I’m going to get you sick.”

“Maybe.” Percy said, not sounding particularly bothered by it either way.

“But…” Annabeth trailed off. She didn’t want him to leave, but it also didn’t feel fair to keep him here, knowing she was probably condemning him to the same misery she was feeling now.

“Don’t worry about me.” Percy said, reading her thoughts, “I used to ride the subway everyday, I think I’ve had every strain of the flu known to man. And if you think I’m just going to leave you here shivering, you’re crazy.”

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Annabeth mumbled, scooting a little closer to him. The shakes were finally starting to dissipate, driven off by Percy’s warmth.

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it.

“For now.” Annabeth said, though she had absolutely no intention of changing her mind, and he knew it better than she did.

“Go back to sleep, Wise Girl.” Percy said, kissing the top of her head.

“Fine.” she said, too tired to think of a good retort. “Seaweed Brain.” she added sleepily, for good measure. She felt him laugh again.

It took a while, but eventually she managed to drift off to sleep again, curled up against his chest.

#i had a shitty day at work so have some tooth-rotting fluff #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo one shot #percabeth oneshot #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #percy x annabeth

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

Text

Rebound

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader 18+

NSFW, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

Warning: mentions of breakup, cunnilingus, 1 photo taken (nature of which is slightly nonconsensual), aftercare

A/N: So, uhh, these past few months have been wack in regards to my love life. I went from breaking off an almost 2-year long distance relationship, to proclaiming that I’m gonna have a hoe phase on Tinder, to actually meeting a guy who I actually like (who knew I would have a successful Tinder relationship?!?!)…….. soooooooo

ALSO-- this is my first (serious) smut I've ever written. Please be kind.

ALSO ALSO-- if this gets enough love, I might make this concept into a full-blown fic

You did everything right. You made time for him. You gave him gifts. You sent him both a good morning and a goodnight text every day. You fulfilled his needs, even when it didn't necessarily benefit you.

Or so you thought.

If you didn't answer that butt-dial from him and heard the pants and moans coming from his end, you would have lived happily in ignorant bliss. If you didn't go to check on him to see if he was ok, you wouldn't be in the predicament you found yourself in currently.

Now you find yourself, wrapped in blankets, crying on his neighbor's couch.

Your boyfriend would always complain about his next door neighbor Tetsurou Kuroo, how he would be the reason your boyfriend got in trouble with loud music and smoking with the landlord. However, despite your boyfriend's hatred of him, you grew close to the rooster head, becoming proper friends and not the girl who apologizes after every night she gets a little loud. He didn't approve of this friendship, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

Now that he's your ex, there is absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"So you walked in and saw him banging his coworker?" Tetsurou asked, placing a glass of cold water into your hand. Your body shook as you lifted the glass up to your lips to take a sip. You then set the glass down on the side table.

"Yes, and it was the one he told me not to worry about." you stuttered. You didn't care much for that coworker. She always seemed to weasel her way into your relationship. Date nights were cut short by her calling your [now ex] boyfriend to help her with a problem. He always seemed to be texting or calling her, and when you would ask why, he would just say 'work' and close his phone so you couldn't see. You would express your concern, but he would assure you that he only had eyes for you.

What bullshit.

Your wails of agony have since subsided to small sniffles. Your breathing was still rapid and without control, but for the most part you were calming down.

Then your phone went off, sounding a text tone that you had specifically saved for your now ex boyfriend.

As you reach for your phone, Tetsurou grabs a hold of it.

"Gimmie that," you whine.

"Password," Tetsurou demands.

"W-what? I'm not just gonna give-"

"Password!" Tetsurou demands even louder. Sighing, you tell him your password and he unlocks your phone. He reads over the text your ex sent you, talking about how you didn't know the whole story and scoffs. He taps on your phone a bit and gently tosses it on the couch cushion next to you as she sits himself down.

"Blocked him for you. He was going on about how you don't know the whole story and that this was the first and only time he messed up. Newsflash, I'm his neighbor, and the girl he has been with the last few weeks definitely wasn't you."

"Oh," you sniffle. So your suspicions were correct. This had been going on for quite a bit. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me earlier?" you asked Tetsurou.

"Well, honestly, I just put the pieces together this morning," Tetsurou replies. The walls are thin, so he could hear every gasp and moan that happened on the other side. He figured it was you, since you were his girlfriend after all. He would just turn on a show and watch it to tune out the love making on the other side of the wall. However, when he didn't receive the usual sorry note under the door that you would write, he knew something was up. The amount of times he would have to turn on his show wasn't going down, but the amount of the little notes he received was.

"You know, I don't think he ever loved me," you say, turning away from Tetsurou. "I honestly think he only liked the idea of me." The waterworks started to flow again.

"I tried so hard, you know? I know he didn't treat me the best, but I stuck with it because I thought he truly loved me," you sob into your hands. You smash your palms into your eyes as you cry out, as if you are trying to stop the tears coming out of your eyes. But they don't stop. If anything, they start to flow out faster.

"What did I do wrong?"

As soon as that question escaped your lips, Tetsurou pulled you into his lap and pressed you head against his chest. You cried even harder, balling his tear-soaked t-shirt in your clenched fists. He ran his nails across your scalp, lightly scratching it in an attempt to calm you down. Usually you would tell him to stop so as to not mess up your hair, but hair was the last thing on your mind at the moment. His other hand was rubbing your back, grounding you from the emotions racking your body at the moment.

"You did nothing wrong," he whispered over and over again in your ear, repeating until you calmed back down. He reached across from you and grabbed the glass of cold water and placed you off of his lap.

"Please drink up, I think you cried half of your water weight in the past 30 minutes alone," he joked, earning a small giggle from you. "I hate to leave you alone, but I'm going to change real fast and get you some bubble tea from that place down the street you like. Sound like a plan?" He asked, earning a nod from you.

With that, he stood up and left to go change and get some tea. You sat back on the couch and watched the door close shut. Now you were alone.

You had been in his apartment a couple times before, but now you were truly looking around at his décor. He didn't have much hanging on his walls, but he had a few pictures here and there. One was of his old volleyball team from high school. He stood in the middle with his red number 1 jersey sticking out for all to see that he was the captain.

Another picture he had on the wall was a picture of a small girl in his arms. After recalling a couple of conversations the two of you had, you remembered that he did have an older sister who had a daughter of her own. His niece.

Her short black hair was sticking up into two little pigtails, each decorated with a small pink bow. Her fluffy pink dress contrasted beautifully with the black dress shirt Tetsurou was wearing. Both of their smiles reached their ears.

He looked pretty good.

You sit there thinking, realizing only now that Tetsurou, the 'nasty neighbor' of your ex boyfriend, your friend, was pretty attractive. How come he didn't have a girlfriend of his own? Did he maybe swing the other way? You shook that thought out of your head when you remembered the stories he would tell of his high school sweetheart.

What happened to her?

While you're lost in thought, you don't hear the front door opening up.

"Here!" Tetsurou shouts, scaring the living daylights out of you. In one hand he's holding two cups of tea with the little tapioca balls at the bottom, and in the other are two straws. You sigh in relief as he sits down next to you, handing you your tea and straw.

"Tetsurou, what ever happened to that girl you dated in high school?" you ask as you stab the straw through the plastic.

"Oh, Alisa? It wasn't too brutal. Our futures were going in different directions and we just fell out of love," he shrugged as you sipped some tea and a few balls of tapioca.

The silence is deafening. Every time you glance at him, you shutter. 'How did I not see how hot he is earlier?' you scold to yourself.

The longer you look at him, the more you get worked up. Your eyes travel downwards to his neck. His Adams apple is sticking out, not too much, but just the perfect amount. They continue downward to his arms, which are framed beautifully by the cotton t-shirt he's wearing. His veins twist across his muscular arm and down to his hands.

Oh god his hands! The roughness of the veins popping out contrast with the smooth, even coloring of his skin. light callouses dot his palms, but for the most part, his hands are soft. perfect for caressing-

Not paying attention, you start to choke on a tapioca pearl. Coughing and wheezing, and with a little help from Tetsurou, you get it out of your windpipe. You pull the straw a little higher to avoid any more tapioca at the moment to catch your breath.

"You alright?" Tetsurou asks, and you nod a little too frantically. He squints his eyes and stares at you for a little bit, seeking confirmation that you're actually ok and not lying to him. Pursing your lips together in a sort-of smile, he takes that as the confirmation he needs and moves back to his drink.

The way he sips on the straw, how his soft, supple lips form around the straw and suck. The way the tea he's drinking dribbles down his chin just a little bit. The way he moves his thumb over his chin to wipe it up.

It shouldn't be getting you this worked up.

"So, is there anything you want to do now?" Tetsurou asked, reaching for the remote as if to imply that they should watch something on the TV. The way his arm flexes as he reaches across you.

You can't take it anymore.

"I want you to fuck me!" you blurt. As soon as the words left your lips, your hands shot up to cover your mouth.

Now it is his turn to choke on his tea. He drops the remote and it breaks apart on the wooden floor. Your hands migrate from your mouth to cover your face. This has to be the most embarrassing moment in your life.

"W-what?" Tetsurou asked, finally catching his breath. You keep your hands on your face, as if they are glued in place. The last thing you want is to look at him, much less in the eye.

"Ju-just ignore what I said! It's not important!" you frantically wave your hands around, hoping maybe they can help you fly away from the current situation.

Alas, you are merely human, and must suffer through the consequences of your actions.

Frantically, you shoot up from your seat, mumbling a string of farewells as you walk toward the door. However, you do not make it far, as you find your hand encapsulated in Tetsurou's as he yanks you back onto your spot on the couch.

"You can't just leave after saying something like that," Tetsurou mumbles. His ears are burning bright red while his cheeks are dusting a soft pink.

"Don't worry about it, I'll just download tinder and relive my frustrations there," you stutter, trying to stand up. However, under Tetsurou's grip and stare, your attempts are rendered futile. Fully realizing the situation, you sigh and throw your head back against the back of the couch.

"Fine," you mumble, blushing, "sorry for making you uncomfortable, I definitely did not mean to say that out loud."

Silence.

Unsure of what to do, you start to explain yourself.

"I'm just so frustrated, and I just wanted to... you know... get him back, like an eye for an eye type of deal," yo ramble on.

Tetsurou dropped his head into the palms of his hands, nodding his head left and right.

"And while you were gone, I kinda realized how attractive you were and i-"

"I never said I wouldn't, did I?" Tetsurou asked, not lifting his face out of his hands.

With that statement, the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your heart beats faster in your chest, while simultaneously wrapping itself tight within your body.

"No, uh, you don't have t-"

""Honestly, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... for a while now," Tetsurou admitted, "So I'll do it, my only rule being that we won't go all the way today."

You press your fists into your plush thighs. "Why not? You literally just admitted that you were attracted to me," you ask.

"Because I don't want to give myself false hope."

"Why would fucking give y-" you tried to ask before Tetsurou interrupted your interruption.

"You just broke up with your long time boyfriend, a messy break-up I may add. Your emotions are all over the place. I really like you, (y/n), I just don't want to be your rebound. I want to be with you because you truly like me, not to get back at your shitty ex next door." He let out, like a breath held underwater.

"Oh," you whisper. He made a great point. What were your intentions right now? Was this all a ploy to get revenge on your ex? Did you actually like Tetsurou that way?

Did it really matter?

"So what?" you ask, stunning Tetsurou into silence.

Tetsurou swallows the lump in his throat and asks you to clarify.

"Well, there is a mutual attraction, and we both clearly want this, why don't we just go for it and see what happens?" you ask.

The pause is long and silent. Tetsurou’s eyes were looking everywhere but at you. Did he actually want this? Yes, but in this way? He took a glance in your direction and saw you still staring down at your tea, swiveling the ice around in circles.

You were definitely a sight for sore eyes in Tetsurou’s ever so humble opinion. The way your face was tinted the slightest red color made his heart melt. He would never forgive his neighbor for what he did to you, making your larger than life personality look small and meek.

Overwhelmed with feelings of both attraction and adoration, he simply couldn’t help himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but after all this time of him secretly crushing on her from a distance, he just couldn’t hold out anymore.

He grabbed your face and turned it toward him, crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss became more feverish as the seconds passed. A simple peck turned into moments of locking lips, trying to taste each other.

His lips were thin, however soft, with the slight sting of mint chapstick tingling your tongue. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue out to taste his bottom lip. He took the signal and included his tongue in the dance, the two muscles stroking together as he grasped the hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer.

As the make-out session continued, the two of you started to position yourselves on the couch; you lying against the armrest and him balancing himself on top of you. Once in this position, his hands started to wander across your body.

Every curve of yours was not left without attention. His hands traveled from behind your head to your chest, from your chest to down your stomach, from your stomach to your thighs, and finally spread your thighs apart to gain access to your covered core, where you wanted to feel his hands the most.

His kisses started trailing south to the crook of your neck, moving from kissing to sucking as he started to rub your clothed slit. An airy gasp escaped your lips, enjoying all the sensations you were feeling at the moment. Once he was satisfied by the purple bruise left just above your collarbone, he started to sit up, causing you to whine from the loss of contact.

Your whining soon stopped however when you noticed him grabbing at your shorts, working to pull them down. As he started to pull down, your breath got caught in your throat, causing it to be held in. Flinging your shorts and panties behind him, he gently kissed your thigh and asked, “Do you still want this, you seem a little tense?”

“Yes!” you gasp a little too fast. His breath was so warm against your wet pussy, teasing you to the point of no return.

“Ok, you have to let me know if you get too overwhelmed or want to stop at any point,” he says before diving down. You are about to acknowledge him until a heavy gasp escapes your lips before you can give your confirmation.

Tetsurou didn’t hesitate going down on you. He simply couldn’t wait any longer. Simply pumping his fist wasn’t doing it for him anymore.

He started to kiss, flick, and suck at your clit, making you breathe harder with the rising pleasure. His movements were soft and light, but they were shaking your very core. He grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him more access.

His movement was simple, something you could easily replicate with your fingers and maybe a quality toy, but that didn’t change how it was working on you. Your heavy breaths turned into soft whimpers as the pleasure began to bubble up.

You were progressing nicely, but Kuroo didn’t think it was progressing fast enough. To remedy his frustrations, he rubbed his fingers against your wetness, slicking it up to start thrusting into you.

The anticipation of his fingers slipping into you made your whimpers louder. He switched up his mouth to sucking your clit between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue and slowly inserted a finger. He pressed the pad of his finger against the ceiling and started to thrust in and out, rubbing against the entirety of your g-spot softly.

This new sensation had you bucking your hips and bubbling over with pleasure, pretty much ripping the orgasm out of you. Tetsurou smiled as you rode out your orgasm, moaning and whimpering small vowel sounds.

The orgasm was nice, but Tetsurou knows you can be louder, he's definitely heard you get louder at least.

Before you can fully recover from your high, his lips reattach to your clit and insert two fingers into you. The moan that escaped your lips was loud and almost pornographic. He smirked, knowing your shit ex next store most likely heard it.

Although, he knew that the fun this round was only just beginning.

Instead of thrusting his fingers in and out, he started to press his fingers up against you, as if he was motioning for you to come here.

The new motion of his fingers mixed with his lips sucking and tongue flicking at your clit was causing you to sprint to the edge way too fast. You couldn’t hold back your moans by control alone, so you bit the back of your hand in an attempt to suppress the noise.

Tetsurou was having none of that today. Using his other hand, he rips your arm away from you, silently implying that he wants to hear how loud you were being.

You try to ground yourself by grasping the armrest behind you, although that doesn’t do much to stop yourself from the orgasm that's rising far too quickly.

Your moans are getting louder and louder as you get closer and closer. Tetsurou has you teetering on the edge as his movement gets faster and faster. Soon your coil snaps and you find yourself cumming harder than you ever have before.

You thrash your head side to side as your hips buck up toward his fingers. He removes his lips and fingers and starts to quickly rub his fingers back and forth on your clit as you ride out your orgasm, extending the peak longer than what you're used to.

As you start to once again come down from your high, you hear soft chuckling coming from Tetsurou. You look up to find his shirt soaking wet.

“Di-did i-i do that?” You ask, afraid of the answer.

“If you’re referring to the squirting, yes, you just did. Hard,” Kuroo smirks, causing your already flushed face to burst even more red in embarrassment. Instinctively, you hide your face behind your hands, as if you could magically disappear if you couldn’t see him.

“Pretty hot,” he mutters to himself before beginning to suckle on your inner thigh, allowing you to completely come down before going back at it. Beyond your blissful sighs, Tetsurou heard your phone buzzing in the background.

Blocked Number.

An evil smirk came to his face as a sinister idea popped into his mind. While you were blissfully unaware of your phone buzzing, Tetsurou opened your phone and unblocked your ex, just to see if he was reacting to the pretty sounds you were making.

And reacted, he did.

Countless messages flooded your phone after Tetsurou unblocked his number, with messages ranging from ‘come back, let’s talk baby,’ to ‘you better not be with Kuroo right now.’ The final message read, “I know that’s you at Kuroo’s apartment, you fucking bitch.”

“Tetsurou, what are you doing?” you ask, finally in grip with reality.

“Just giving your ex a bit of a show,” he replied, diving right back in.

Breathlessly, you grasp his bed head, trying to get a grip on your once again slipping reality. In the heat of the moment, he pushed your thighs down to each side, revealing your flushed pussy. While flicking his tongue on your clit once again, he snapped a selfie. In the frame was his face, smirking with his tongue out flicking your clit. To make the picture even better, your manicured hands were in view, gripping his hair in pleasure.

Perfect for a porn twitter account.

Tetsurou typed out ‘your loss, pal,’ and sent the text, blocked your ex’s number once again, and tossed your phone to the side, getting back to work, soon bringing you to your third and final orgasm.

After cleaning you up and bringing you a glass of water, Tetsurou snuggled up to you under a cozy blanket. As your endorphins went down, the pure dread of what your ex did came back.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N), do you regret what we did?” Tetsurou asked, the expression of pure concern expressed on his face.

“No, I’m just angry about this whole thing! Three years gone!” you shutter, trying to hold back tears. Tetsurou held you tighter.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face.

For the next ten minutes, you were crying into his chest as he rubbed you back and whispered soothing words.

As you calm down and sip your water, Tetsurou breaks the silence saying, “We need to talk about what just happened and what we are.”

You don’t reply, instead, you stare off to the side past Tetsurou’s shoulder.

“I kinda like you, but I’m not sure,” you meekly reply.

“Understandable. I want you to sleep on the idea of us. After you think of it, I want you to call me. Then we can get dinner.”

Space is what she needs, and space is what Tetsurou is willing to give her.

“Sounds great, but can I stay a little longer?” you ask, nuzzling seemingly closer into his warmth.

“Stay as long as you need, sweetie.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #tetsurou kuroo smut #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader smut #smut #lemon #do people still use lemon?#oh well im using it #cheating

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