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yukidragon · 2 years

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SDJ - New Clues, Theories, and Headcanons

So many new pieces of art and lore teasers have been dropped on the Sunny Day Jack twitter, that I simply must make a post to gush about them, as well as the new thoughts and headcanons they’ve sparked for me.

Strap in, folks, this is going to be a very, very long one. I’ll be throwing in a lot of pictures for evidence, including pieces that were on Jambeebot/Sauce’s public twitter before it went down. On that note, please remember to support them and their game by following their twitter or contributing to their patreon or kickstarter. This beautiful game, art, and ideas wouldn’t be possible without all their hard work.

Also, I know I said it in the headcanon post I made earlier today, but it bears repeating - please don’t repost private images from the patreon. Reposting the images elsewhere, even cropped, is harmful to SnaccPop Studios and everyone working there. It’s fine to gush over what was posted there and direct others to join as well, but the money pledged to the patreon is going to a good cause to make this engaging game.

With that said, let’s start with the picture that is just oozing with lore.

There’s so much here, so let’s break it down piece by piece.

Jack is obviously a ghost(?) in his reflection. The blood, glowing eyes, and unhealthy shade of his skin makes that pretty clear that he’s no longer human.

His colors are faded and more in shadow than the rest of the lighting of the room.

He’s midway between being Jack and Joseph, as evidenced by his visible mole, the cigarette, the smudged makeup, his earring, and the tank top he’s wearing.

This contrasts strongly with the autographed photo of himself done up in costume and makeup properly, smiling and happy.

LambsWork Productions appears to be the studio responsible for the SunnyTime Crew Show. It was theorized that might be the case in the mock 80′s horror movie poster that was posted on the official twitter, but this card seems to confirm the theory.

Jack’s eyes, when not glowing, are definitely brown, as suggested by his official merch plushie.

Everything in this room is dingy and dirty. The wallpaper appears dirty, there are spots on the doll, the eye paint is chipped, the flowers are dark as though withering, and there’s a nasty stain on the lunchbox.

The fact that the flowers are blue is interesting. They appear to be roses, and are a shade of blue that is decidedly unnatural (kind of like Jack’s blue wig), which would make a bouquet of them more expensive than regular flowers. Usually white flowers are used for funerals and memorials to represent honor, peace, and innocence.

The symbolism of blue flowers is, as stated by wikipedia, “desire, love, and the metaphysical striving for the infinite and unreachable. It symbolizes hope and the beauty of things.” That first part definitely gives Jack vibes to me.

Symbolism aside, the reason blue flowers were chosen might simply be because of the blue of Jack’s hair. This is a memorial directed more at Jack the character, rather than Joseph the actor. Intentional or not, the memory of Jack is on full display, while there’s nothing of Joseph except what bleeds through in the mirror.

Most likely this is Jack’s dressing room at the studio, as that would be an appropriate place to put a memorial like this for a fallen co-worker.

Since the flowers are still holding their shape despite withering some, it means this takes place not too long after his death... or those flowers are plastic and just got especially dirty.

If this does take place a short while after Jack’s death, this suggests he might have wandered around as a ghost(?) before being trapped in the tape.

Or this could be a dream of Jack’s in the present about the truth of his situation that he’s trying so desperately to bury...

I find the name of the studio that worked Jack to death and buried his memory to be quite ironic. LambsWork Studio. One could say that a lamb’s “work” is to be sheered... or slaughtered.

Jack certainly seems to have suffered both fates, hasn’t he? He was “sheered” by being overworked to play the part, then “slaughtered” when he was murdered while on set.

Then there’s the fact that Hollywood has been rumored to have cults and rituals taking place. What if Jack being trapped in the VHS wasn’t actually an accident? What if his murder was for the sake of a ritual that required a lamb beloved by many to be slaughtered?

The question would be then what the ritual would be for, and why they would need someone so popular and so loved by children? Would their love for the character be part of the ritual? Is the reason why Joseph, a drifter, was chosen for the role was because it would be the easiest way to cover their tracks when there would be no family to look for him?

This picture also gives me an idea for a new scene in Sunshine in Hell, but I won’t spoil it here. Suffice to say, Jack is not going to like what he sees in the mirror...

Interestingly enough, this version of Jack appears again elsewhere.

His hair is brown fading into blue, his eyes are the same distorted sizes while glowing, he’s bloody with smudged makeup, wearing a tank top, and has his tattoos visible. We can also see he’s wearing one of Jack’s gloves and Jack’s pants. It’s very much a transitional state between Jack and Joseph. It’s very telling and so unsettling, especially since his body is decaying.

All four of the male leads have their own animated pictures. They appear in bouncy animation in front of a fun “party” type background, then for a split second we see them in a more horrifying light.

In Jack’s case, there are two horrifying versions of him. Here’s the other one:

Jack is in full costume this time, not only bleeding but also splattered in blood to imply he committed violence of some sort, and his skin is clearly rotting like his other scary image. However, what I find most interesting is the blank white eyes of his that are overflowing with tears. We haven’t seen Jack’s eyes look like that yet.

The fact that there are two versions of Jack feels telling to me. It might represent Jack’s persona as the character he’s trying to be, as well as the actor he was when playing the role, affected by Jack’s presence even in his real life. The empty eyes do hint at this version of Jack being empty. In a way, he has been divided into two, and one half of him is buried underneath his trauma and desperation.

Also, I’d like to talk about the text that goes along with these gifs.

Everybody likes Jack!

The question is, what happens when he doesn't necessarily like everybody back?

This quote is pretty straightforward in what it’s insinuating - Jack is a yandere. He doesn’t like anyone who might keep him from his sunshine. The game is literally called Something is Wrong with Sunny Day Jack. We’ve seen plenty of teasers of Jack being scary and covered in blood, implying that he caused violence to happen.

Jack doesn’t directly cause violence in the teasers. He has issues with breaking character in any sense, that’s why he doesn’t swear and why he panics when he’s reminded of his personal past as Joseph. Instead, he convinces others to hurt themselves, as we’ve seen with Nick regardless of our choices at the end of the demo.

You know, that always confused me. Nick, apparently, is a random customer who asked Sunshine if they had a boyfriend. No matter what option you choose, he gets rejected and goes away without any attempts to push it further. Furthermore, Sunshine doesn’t react positively to Nick asking that question, so there was no hint that they would want to date him.

On that topic, can I just say how uncomfortable what Nick did was? People in the food service industry have a hard time when customers flirt with them while they’re working. The servers literally are being paid to act friendly and smile at the customers, and if they displease the customer, they could lose their jobs. There are plenty of customers who take that to mean that the server is flirting with them or otherwise interested and ask them out or leave their phone number. No matter how uncomfortable or even scared for their safety the server is, they have to keep being pleasant, even if the customer feels entitled to more than just friendly service from their server.

While there are plenty of people who take one look at Nick and are immediately interested in him, Sunshine rejects him in every route, and has this reaction:

Hm. I don’t know whether to be flattered this is happening. Or terrified this is happening.

I’m going to go with terrified for now.

“Well. I mean. I uh…”

Shit. Shit. What do I say?

What am I supposed to DO?

Sunshine is not comfortable with being hit on at their job where they can’t escape the situation. It’s not a fair situation to put anyone in, and a lot of servers lie that they’re in a relationship just to escape a potentially dangerous situation. Fortunately Nick seemed to take the rejection well and went away, right?

While in the “no” route, I can see why Jack would feel bitter towards Nick, as Nick was the catalyst that set off a very traumatic moment. It’s clear revenge and a defensive measure to prevent Nick from being a threat in the future.

The results are vastly different in the “yes” route though. Nick is practically a wingman, allowing Jack to nudge Sunshine into finally making the choice to deepen their relationship. If anything, Jack kind of owes Nick in this route.

And yet Jack still drives Nick to madness anyway.

What further confused me was the timing of it. In both routes, Jack and Sunshine have sex. The next morning, Jack is clingy and doesn’t want to let go of Sunshine. Being so intimate together for as long as possible would be very reassuring to him, especially after such a traumatic incident as the brief rejection in the “No” route and how reluctant Sunshine was to accept him.

So, why then did Jack (presumably) leave after Sunshine fell asleep to drive Nick insane?

Admittedly, the news report about Nick doesn’t exactly state when the incident happens. Maybe this is jumping ahead several weeks or a month ahead of time after the demo ends with Jack asking who Shaun is. However, its presence in the epilogue makes it seem like the news report was broadcast on the day Shaun visited, which would imply that Nick was driven to madness the night before. This implication is strengthened by the earlier incident where Sunshine passed out and woke up Jack’s jacket, and how that suggested to many players (including myself) that Jack did something suspicious that night while Sunshine was unconscious.

I think most of us just assumed Jack’s choice to go after Nick was just yanderes being yanderes - pre-emptive violence and rash decisions in order to keep the one they love. However, Jack is anything but rash. He’s very methodical and clever. Having an impulse to go after a random guy who asked out his sunshine but got rejected and slunk away without a fight seems out of character for him, especially since in the teaser art, Jack would resort to violence when a threat “just won’t go away.”

Granted, these images are not strictly canon, just some great teasers for SDJ in general, but they both have the same sentiment - when someone keeps getting in Jack’s way and is a burden on his sunshine, he’s pushed to drastic measures.

But Nick didn’t do that, right? Sure, he walked into the shop for yogurt the day before he asked if Sunshine had a boyfriend, but he accepted rejection easily and left. How is that a burden or a threat that keeps getting in Jack’s way and just won’t go away?

Unless there was more to it than what we saw.

Our perspective is limited by what Sunshine perceives. We’re inside their head, privy to their thoughts and feelings. When they go unconscious, the story cuts short, as was shown when Sunshine “dozed off” on the couch with Jack. We don’t see anything they don’t witness, and they didn’t witness what Jack did to Nick.

So what if there were things Nick did that Sunshine didn’t see either?

Allow me to turn our attention to a few interesting details that can be gleaned from Nick’s profile and his Spotify playlist.

Nick may keep a cool head, but he's got a lot more going on beneath the surface than most people realize.

A social media influencer by day, and a professional male dom by night, Nick's seen his fair share of unsavory things, but at the end of it all, he has his close family bonds and twin Pomeranians (Pico and Cheese) to keep him sane.

Will that always be enough, though?

I was pretty shocked that Nick, the guy who was shy and took two days to gather up the nerve to ask if the cute person serving yogurt had a boyfriend, was a social media influencer, and a professional male dom. Both those things demand a strong amount of presence and confidence to handle, as the former requires being at the center of attention for many and handling a lot of social media, while the latter is taking charge of other people sexually for money. Kind of strange that someone who can pull off both these things would be so shy, right?

Although, social media influencers and professional male doms can be said to be playing a role, putting on an act for their paycheck. This begs the question then - was the shy customer we saw in the demo Nick’s real face?

Some of the song choices on his playlist further raised my eyebrows. I won’t go too deep into depth here since this post is getting long enough, but more than one song is about obsessive love, drugs, being the bad guy, and loss of sanity.

Sure, Jack drove Nick crazy, and maybe that’s where the drugs come in. After all, Nick’s scary glitch image showed him in clothes one might expect to see a patient wear at a mental hospital...

There’s also the quote given along with the gif.

So close, yet so far away~

What if this quote isn’t referring to Nick’s kickstarter goal being so close to offer a route to save him, or how “close” Nick came to becoming Sunshine’s boyfriend?

What if Nick has been close to Sunshine for a while, and they never even noticed? What if they’ve been coming to the store a long time, but Sunshine never paid attention - after all, he was just another customer. It was Nick’s strange behaviors like asking if the obvious employee worked there that made him stand out.

What if Nick didn’t simply go away when rejected? What if he’s been stalking Sunshine without being noticed? What if on the day he was rejected... he secretly followed Sunshine home to their apartment while they were too exhausted to notice?

What if someone, say, was so obsessed with their crush on Sunshine it bordered on criminal? So many yandere characters break into the homes of those they are obsessed with. What if Nick didn’t actually take his rejection well, and he decided to pay Sunshine a little unexpected late night visit?

What if Nick is a yandere targeting Sunshine?

Well, an immediate threat is certainly a good reason for Jack to leave the reassuring warmth of his sunshine’s embrace, wouldn’t it? He can’t exactly savor the afterglow and how their relationship finally evolved into something deeper when a threat is breaking in to take his sunshine away...

This would make Jack’s actions make perfect sense to me. It also adds a new unsettling context to what Jack said to sunshine after Ian’s phone call.

Remember what I told you…

About…Other people?

Jack was worried about “other people” even before Ian’s phone call and warned Sunshine as such. What if that was his discreet way of warning them to be cautious because Sunshine had a stalker, and he didn’t want to scare them? Jack wants to take care of Sunshine, so he’s going to hide scary and ugly things from them so that their light will always shine... so he has reason not to tell them something that could trouble them. He’ll take care of them. He can provide them safety.

These ideas, as well as the other glitch cut-ins from the other guys, led me to a new theory/headcanon - all of the male leads are yandere for MC.

I mean, let’s just take a look at Ian here.

It isn’t easy to tell due to the animation and distortion, but I can confirm that there is a heart in his pupil. On patreon, there’s a picture of him with this exact same love-struck expression, including with a heart in his eye.

A star is born!

With a face like that, Ian could do a lot of damage in the acting scene!

Naturally, this remark seems to be pointedly referring to his glitched image where he’s covered in blood.

Ian is dressed up as Sunny Day Jack, not just any Jack, but a redesigned Sunny Day Jack... like in a reboot perhaps? His outfit is different in so many ways, including the belt, elbow pads, sun logo, fingerless gloves, general jacket, and even the shape of the makeup on his cheeks.

Is Ian possessed by Jack, who then committed acts of violence in his body? It’s possible. It certainly was a theory in the fandom for a while.

It was also a theory that Ian is a yandere, and as such he might be the one actually responsible for all the bloodshed here.

After all, Jack and Ian do share a common dislike in their profiles - they both dislike being left alone. I find that a pretty interesting coincidence. Not to mention all the other parallels they share, such as taking the starring role of Sunny Day Jack.

Let’s also look at the phone calls from Ian. He constantly calls Sunshine to apologize for cheating on them. His profile confirms that his cheating is why they broke up.

He had you, until he lost you. Formerly your childhood friend, high school sweetheart, and your boyfriend, Ian has fallen from your good graces after admitting to cheating on you while attending performing arts school.

Nothing will stop him from proving his undying love for you, though. And this new job of his as the main character of an upcoming big budget TV show should do nicely as a fresh start for both your lives.

Ian said in the demo that he had something that would “fix” everything. He thinks this new job, presumably starring as a rebooted version of Sunny Day Jack, will somehow undo the damage he did when cheating on his partner. That is a very strange assumption. Why would a new job, even one that offers fame, undo the fact that he cheated while he was away?

Does Ian believe that game and money can soothe away the pain he caused and prove he is worthy of forgiveness? Does he believe that’s enough to make them happy?

Sunshine has been shown to be very poor. It’s one of the big plot points in the story that they’re struggling for money. They work long, grueling hours in a job that mortifies them, their co-worker Carol shoves work onto them to take care of, their boss calls them in on their day off... They can’t even afford to replace their wardrobe.

I’d been looking for clothes at the local thrift shop.

You know…As one does when their wardrobe consists of 75% stolen and borrowed shirts from their ex.

…And they’re too much of a tightwad to shop for new clothes in an actual new-clothes store.

Not only does Sunshine rely on Ian’s wardrobe to be clothed, they also rely on the apartment they got together. I find it interesting that Sunshine is still living there. Normally, after a break up, wouldn’t you want to move out from a place that causes you so much pain? Sunshine doesn’t seem to like thinking about Ian’s bedroom at all, so that’s even more reason to move. The breakup with Ian is why they’re “recklessly” rejecting all things nostalgic. Plus, if they’re struggling for money so much, why are they still paying for a two bedroom apartment? Can they really afford to pay for it all on their own?

That got me wondering... what if they’re not? What if, like the borrowed shirts, Sunshine is still relying on Ian financially despite being broken up? He could still be paying half or more of the rent. Ian could frame it as an apology for how much he hurt Sunshine. After all, Ian would do anything to make up for what he did, right? Begging, bringing up old memories, constantly calling them, claiming he has a right to know if they’re dating anyone... emotional manipulation...

Ian sounded so shocked when Sunshine said they were trying to move on, even though they were broken up. And why wouldn’t he? They’re still living in their shared apartment, still relying on his money. It’s only natural to assume that they’re not moving on. They can’t.

Let’s not forget the Afterlife moment where Ian was presented as, well, I’ll quote Sunshine here on this one:

He was a nerd, and he was silly, and he was VERY apologetically himself, but…What we had was special.

It seems as though Ian has a habit of apologizing in their relationship. We’ve seen many instances of him being apologetic even before he cheated. Often times when people apologize, they give the person they wronged gifts to represent their sincerity, sometimes really expensive gifts. Ian was jokingly referred to once as “Team has money, will pay ur bills.”

What if Ian has a habit of throwing money at his problems? What if he thinks money can fix, well, everything?

This does lead a new headcanon I have about Ian’s home life, particularly who his father might be. There’s this common theory that Ian is related to Jean Laurent, former co-star on the SunnyTime Crew Show who played the part of Rory Rainberry alongside Jack. Both Ian and Jean have similar orange hair and freckles, which has made this a compelling theory, even if the different surnames pose a wrinkle to the idea. It certainly would make sense how Ian has money and got a job as the new Jack if he was related to a famous actor with connections, particularly to the old show...

Now, I’m going pretty deep into headcanon on this point but I think Jean really is Ian’s father. Ian could have his mother’s last name, but not because Jean took her last name upon marriage. I don’t think there was actually any marriage at all.

This seems kind of strange given how religious Ian’s mother is, right? Obviously someone who was so upset at her son doing something so “sinful” as to live with their partner before marriage would get married themselves right? That’s not necessarily the case. Sometimes people are just plain hypocritical and project their own mistakes and problems onto people they control.

There’s a picture of a woman theorized to be Ian’s mother. The quote from this woman is very telling, even if it’s not strictly canon for the game.

Let’s break the picture down. This woman is in heavy makeup, with styled hair, long nails, and drinking presumably an alcoholic beverage in that martini glass. She is telling someone, presumably a child, that they are so ugly, the only way they’ll get sex is from a desperate sex worker unless they have a lot of money to burn.

Quite the awful woman. If she’s talking to her child, then that’s a sign of an abusive parent. Ian’s mother certainly seems similarly abusive in the afterlife story.

“...My mom called me.”

“Someone gave her our address…Or she might have had one of her friends watching. I don’t know…”

“S-She…Uh…She says that…To live with someone out of…Wedlock…I-It’s a sin? And I’m going to hell?”

“She said I’m only doing it to…To satisfy…My manhood…”

“I-I’m not taking advantage of you by doing this…Am I?”

What if these opinions of Ian are projections his mother had about herself and his father?

My headcanon is that Jean, a famous star, had a lot of sugar babies. Ian’s mother, Ms. Duff, was one of those people who latched onto him for money, connections, and fame. She tried to baby trap Jean into marriage, but that plan failed to work. She still got financial support from Jean, but now she was an unwed mother forced to raise a child on her own. That led her to being resentful and clinging more to religion and control over her son to vent her frustrations at the choices she made.

Ian seems to struggle with wanting his mother’s approval, even though she’s a horrible woman. What if he learned how to be apologetic from not only her abusive treatment, from her apologies as well? Why, she gave him something nice, so it means she really is sorry, right? She certainly could have been given plenty of nice things when her sugar daddy acted out but still tried to keep her on the hook...

Abuse can be a cycle that chains into the next person. Jean has control over Ian’s mother, apologizes when he hurts and upsets her, and gives her fancy stuff to make amends and keep her coming back to him. Ian’s mother abuses Ian, but gets him to keep listening to her through guilt and gifting him money for, say, a fancy college.

Those things might even be reason enough for Ian to unblock her and let her back into his life to keep influencing him. Sadly, there are people who have been abused to unblock their abusers out of guilt... or because they’re afraid of getting cut off.

Now Ian thinks that a new job with fame and money can fix his relationship with Sunshine. Of course it’ll work. It worked on his mom, who kept coming back to Jean despite how many times he cheated to satisfy his manhood...

Again, that is just my own headcanon and there’s very little evidence to prove it for sure, but I think it fits many pieces very neatly into place. Ian can use his connections through his dad to get the job at the rebooted Sunny Day Jack show, which is probably being produced by Jean, or at least Jean still has his old connections to LambsWork...

Of course, if the earlier theory that Sunny Day Jack was a role of a lamb to be slaughtered, what might that say about Jean giving his son the same part that murdered his co-worker all those years ago?

Now let’s finish things off with Shaun, who has kind of gotten the short end of the stick in terms of how much we know about him.

Shaun seems to be the most normal of the bunch, right?

Here, kitty-kitty~

You don't have to worry about anything with friends like Shaun looking out for you~

He might be into horror movies, goth fashion, and come from a family of funeral directors, but he seems pretty normal.

He seems normal.

There was a tweet, unfortunately now deleted, where Jambeebot seemed amused by the idea that the fans believe Shaun is the most normal of the love interests. There’s an implication that he might be just as... not quite right as the rest of them.

There’s not all that much to indicate Shaun is a threat to Sunshine. Even the creepy cut in picture is just him looking shocked/upset/angry while covered in blood. It doesn’t hint at him being the cause of violence. Even his profile and the teaser quotes don’t hint at a sinister side.

I still can’t quite shake the idea that if the other three leads might be yandere, Shaun might be too in order to round off the set.

After all, I had proposed the idea a while back that there are plenty of ways to be a yandere. A yandere essentially means “love sick,” a person who is unhealthy with love. I posited that there could be yanderes who aren’t inherently violent to others, but to themselves.

Remember in the demo the story about Shaun staying up all night then buying Sunshine breakfast the next day? What if Shaun is the type of yandere who sacrifices himself to unhealthy extremes for the sake of the one he loves?

Though there might be other things about him that are more dangerous that we’ll learn in the full release of the game. After all, the demo is short, and there are glimpses of a much bigger story waiting to be told...

Of course, we can’t dismiss the threat Jack poses over the others. After all, there’s this gem from his profile:

Jack is ready to be your best friend until the end in the most literal sense. The only question is-- what to do about those pesky, inferior other friends of yours who came before him and now stand in his way?

A “friend to the end in the most literal sense.” I think we can all get what that’s implying. The question is if Jack plans to speed up that end, or if it’s just he plans to be with Sunshine until the end of their natural lifespan?

It seems unlikely to be the former, as Jambeebot stated that Jack sincerely does love Sunshine and just wants to bask in their warm and happy light. This still seems quite sinister in any case.

Then, of course, there’s the fact that Jack finds Sunshine’s other friends to be pesky, inferior, and in his way. Is it just because they’re friends, or is it because they want what he wants - Sunshine’s love?

We can’t dismiss the idea that Jack really is the game’s one and only antagonist and he could possess and manipulate others into violence. Personally though, I want to go with the headcanon that all the guys are yandere for Sunshine.

Wouldn’t it be such a great twist if the obvious threat of the ghost in the cursed VHS tape was actually the person who is the least dangerous threat to Sunshine? After all, as Jack said, he can’t do anything Sunshine doesn’t want him to... No other yandere would have the same supernatural guarantee of their consent and safety.

Edit: Oops forgot the obligatory tags for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic. If you want to get tagged when I make the next headcanon post, just let me know!

Also, if you like my writing, consider checking out my SDJ fanfic, Sunshine in Hell and leaving a comment telling me what you think. I just adore hearing from you!

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #swwsdj #sdj #SunnyDayJack #Headcanon Ramblings #Sauce-y Art

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chiffiorra · 2 years

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Kinktober Day #14

Name: Somnophilia

Character: Takuma Ino

WC: 623

Synopsis: You joked that he could fuck you in your sleep if he wanted to, and tonight he was going to take that chance.

This fic contains: AFAB!reader, somnophilia (consensual), reader and Ino are friends-with-benefits, unprotected sex, MDNI

Note: look i got love for Ino, ok? i just think he's precious and deserves more content about him 🥺

Ino thought he couldn't be blessed with a more beautiful sight in his life as he came home.

He told you not to wait up for him, but you still chose to. Here you were, laying down on his couch, sleeping so peacefully while clinging onto one of his pillows.

Smiling, but shaking his head that you still wanted to wait up for him, he quietly walked over and picked you up gently. With that, he carried you to his room and laid you down on his bed, all the while being careful not to wake you up.

As he crawled up to the other side of the bed and laid down next to you, he couldn't help but love how beautiful you looked while sleeping. It was wrong of him to think so but… he remembered something you told him once the last time you two hooked up.

"You can fuck me in my sleep whenever you want." Was what you told him before.

You may have said it as a joke, but that doesn't mean that Ino's mind didn't wander for some time after that wondering if a day will come when you let him.

And now here he was blessed with a perfect opportunity, there was no way he was gonna put it to waste. Who knows when there'll be a next time?

Running his hands up your exposed legs with his fingertips, he could almost see the goosebumps that formed on your thighs. It was almost entrancing to watch to say the least, in his eyes. You didn't even twitch in your sleep at his touch, which kind of surprised him.

Reaching up to your waist, he slowly began moving your shorts down along with your panties. Ino only stopped whenever you moved a little in your sleep. Must be an interesting dream, he mused as he pulled both off of your legs completely. Much to his surprise when his fingers began brushing your opening, you were starting to feel wet. Just what were you dreaming about exactly? An encounter like this?

No matter, he had more important things to worry about. He immediately began removing his pants and boxers, cock already hard at the thought of fucking you while you lay in a deep sleep.

Ino was already groaning when he slid himself in between your thighs and right under your clit to lube himself up. On the other hand, you were none the wiser as you let out a breathy moan in your sleep.

"So good… so good like this, baby," he couldn't help but whimper as his hands slid up to your breasts and began squeezing them gently. If you already felt this good, he could only imagine how you would feel on the inside and he couldn't wait… in fact, he couldn't wait any longer. He finally pushed his cock into you and immediately began thrusting at a moderate pace, already so impatient.

He felt a little pathetic for doing such a thing to you while you were sleeping; but at the end of the day, you said it was okay right? You were definitely cool with it.

His thrusts finally hit your cervix, and you moaned out in your sleep again. How you were still sleeping was beyond him but he didn't mind, his dream was coming true.

"Ino?" He heard you whisper out, groggy from sleep.

"Shhh it's ok love, I got you," he reassured you, kissing your neck, which was starting to sweat from the heat in his room.

You could only move back against him sleepily, confirming to him that you were more than okay with him fucking you while sleeping.

"I did say you could after all," you whispered again.

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ino takuma #ino takuma x reader

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bluestar22x · 8 months

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Chapter 1

Baby Fever - Chapter 1

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female!(Wife)Reader

Series Summary: It all started with a classic case of baby fever

Rating: 18+ Series

Warnings: Smut, light breeding kink, cock warming, mentions of cum

Word Count: 3,202

Author's Note: This was one of those chapters where editing the fic the next day made me feel so much better about how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy. And check out the oneshot A Splash Of Red if you haven't yet if you want to get to know reader better beforehand.

Also, I mention hair color of a relative of reader, but that does not confirm a race for reader. She is adopted.

xxx

It was the fourth of July, and just like every Independence Day you could remember your parents had invited all of your family members to Lake Arrowhead in Virginia to celebrate and have a reunion. All of them. Both your mother's side and your father's side, which wasn't atypical for them, but it was the only celebration of the year that had both sides gathering together.

Them all being there, packed into a modestly sized lake house rental, made your family appear huge, and you supposed that they were, compared to most modern American families. In total you had six aunts, four uncles, their spouses, two living sets of grandparents, and at least twenty cousins and second cousins, not to mention your parents, sister, and her little family. This was the only time of year you got to see most of your relatives that lived more than a few hours away from D.C., which was about half of them, and your sister Emily could also be included. She lived in California with her husband and you had only gotten to see her in person a couple times a year since she had moved out there with her husband Greg four years ago.

They'd had a baby seven months ago, and you'd flown out to see little Henry for a weekend the month after he was born, but you hadn't seen them since, not in person at least. You were thankful for Facetime, you hadn't technically missed out on seeing your nephew growing, but it wasn't quite the same through a screen. You'd been anxious to see Henry again at the reunion, so you sought him and Emily out first when you arrived, scanning the crowd for your supermodel tall sister and a tiny baby with ridiculously thick blonde hair.

You found them at the kitchen island, Emily seated at the far end, bouncing Henry gently on her leg while a crowd surrounded them, fawning over the little guy. For most of the family this was the first time they were laying eyes on him, and your family being the stereotypical American type, most of the crowd was composed of women, while the men hung back chatting with each other just outside of the baby bubble.

You strolled over to them with your husband in tow, one of his massive hands clasped in yours firmly, gladly following you. You'd married Marcus Pike on the twenty-sixth of May, just a little over a month ago, and while this wasn't his first time at the family reunion, he wasn't yet at that point where he'd wander off away from you during a family party on his own. It wasn't like he didn't know your uncles and cousins enough, it was just that he was more interested in you, and you wouldn't have dreamed about complaining about that.

You let go of his hand to scoop up your nephew, the only person in your family besides your parents who ever did so without permission. "Come here, little man!" you exclaimed, voice higher pitched than it normally was. "I need kisses!"

You pressed so many kisses to his chubby cheeks they were shining when you pulled away and you felt your heart soar when you saw him beaming back up at you in reaction to your uncurbed affection.

"Perfect timing," Emily declared as she stood up. "I gotta go pee and pump. Do you mind watching him for a bit?"

"Just cause I'm the older sister doesn't mean you get to make me the designated babysitter on sight," you joked.

"So, you don't want to?" Emily questioned, teased, gesturing to your aunts and female cousins who were still huddled around you both. "Cause I'm sure anyone else here would gladly."

"I'll take him!" your cousin Jeannie nearly shouted, making grabby hands at Henry.

You pulled him closer to your chest as if to shield him from her. "No way! Auntie rights."

Jeannie pouted but let you and your sister slip away into the more open living room.

Emily reached over the top of the couch for the baby bag she brought everywhere with her since Henry was born and passed it to you. "He might need a change while I'm gone," she warned.

You waved a hand at that. "I babysat in high school for the neighbors, remember? I'm not scared of a little Henry poo if it comes to that."

She chuckled. "Okay. I'll go. Talk after."

She gave you an awkward there's-a-baby-between-us hug then disappeared down the hallway as you sat down on the couch and dropped the bag at your feet.

You rested Henry on your right leg and twisted your face into a silly expression to make him giggle and the sound warmed you instantly. When you were a teenager, interacting with a baby had been a job. You'd been good at it, good enough to keep your neighbor's baby alive at least, but you hadn't really loved it. You hadn't been overly crazy over your cousins' babies either, but there was something about Henry that had changed that. You couldn't deny that everything he did had you captivated, even before he was born and your sister had insisted you feel him moving in her belly. Ever since then you'd been a little obsessed.

You felt eyes on you as you blew raspberries into his bare stomach, increasing the intensity of his laughter, but you ignored them, focusing on your nephew until you felt the couch cushion beside you sink down under the weight of another adult body.

"He's gotten big," Marcus observed, smiling brightly as he watched your endearing interactions with your nephew - who was also his nephew now you reminded yourself.

"Video chat didn't do justice," you agreed, jerking your head away from Henry to study his face again. You sighed heavily. "Next time I see him he'll probably be walking." You were disappointed by that realization. Kids grew up too fast for long distance.

Marcus chuckled at the pout that formed on your face. "Well, maybe by then another baby will be on the way in the family."

You glanced at him and caught the meaning behind his words in his soft chocolate eyes. "Marcus..."

"I know we both agreed we'd wait until after our first anniversary," he said, holding out an index finger for Henry to curl his little fingers around, "But you're a year into your greeter job at the hotel and my paperwork for the desk job at the FBI should go through next week, so why wait?"

You chewed your lower lip as you glanced back at the smiley baby you were bouncing on your knee, the same way your sister had. Why wait indeed. You both were in secure jobs and soon Marcus wouldn't be out in the field anymore, possibly hundreds of miles away if a case required it. He'd asked for a job in the FBI building in D.C. that would keep him safer and closer to home after you'd married. He'd insisted on it, even though the one that had been offered to him was a position with slightly less pay. You knew it had been because he wanted to be there for you and any kids in your future even though he hadn't spelled that out. You'd talked about having a kid or two after marriage fairly early on during the time you'd dated. It had simply been a smart move, neither one of you wanting to continue dating if the other hadn't wanted any. It was never too early to talk about deal breaker subjects in your book, though you'd waited until your fifth date to bring it up in case he didn't feel the same. He'd actually been relieved that you had brought it up since he had a history of rushing relationships and was unsure if it was still too early to bring up the topic.

If you had still been new at the hotel you'd have been concerned about needing maternity leave so soon after joining the business, but a full year had secured your place there, and you already had vacation time racked up on top of that.

Why not?

You couldn't think of anything to discourage you from starting to try for a baby. It wouldn't even be a process. You'd gotten your birth control implant removed right after you and Marcus had gotten married, choosing to use only physical barriers for prevention so you wouldn't have to wait to see a doctor before starting to try, knowing your doctor scheduled appointments months ahead of time.

A part of you might have also had foresight that you and Marcus wouldn't make it a full year waiting. Marcus had barely made it over a month. You couldn't blame him, staring at your nephew. You couldn't deny you yourself had a full-blown case of baby fever ever since he’d made his debut.

You watched as Henry tightened his grip on Marcus' finger and leaned forward to suck on its middle joint. You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth as Marcus ruffled his soft hair with his free hand. You knew he’d be a good dad. That had never been a concern for you, and his interactions with Henry had always been endearing. You didn’t think you’d ever met another man who deserved to be a father more than him and you wanted to be the one to make him one.

"Okay," you said almost breathlessly.

You'd known most of your adult life, over a decade, that you wanted children in the future, the dream having stuck up on you sometime during your short stint in college, but it had stayed a thought at the back of your mind for so long a part of you had wondered if you'd ever get around to it. Even after meeting and marrying Marcus it had still felt far away. But deciding to stop waiting, agreeing to it, the possibly was suddenly very real to you.

"Just okay?" He raised his brows. He seemed unsure of your reaction, like he'd expected more from you.

"More than okay," you corrected yourself as excitement started to bubble up in you. You flashed him a grin. "I'd like to start trying too."

Marcus beamed back at you and pitched forward to give you a gleeful kiss, resting his left hand against your cheek, thumb glazing over the apple of it. "I can't wait," he told you as he pulled away, and you wondered if he was more anxious about having a baby or making a baby. Cause for you it was about equal after seeing his little interactions with Henry and how he'd just kissed you.

"Tonight?" you murmured.

"Is the timing right?" he asked, hopeful.

"Whether it is or not, does it matter?" you inquired thickly. "We can still try."

The corner of his lips quirked upward at the seductive tone you were using. "True. And yes, I'd love to."

"Pencil it in Agent Pike."

He shook his head. "I never need a reminder for you."

You were distracted the rest of the day, anticipation building with every conversation you had with distant family that bored you, every hour that passed, and with the fading light.

Marcus did eventually step away from you to talk with your father about "guy stuff". Whatever that meant. They had been your father's words when he pulled him away from you.

You and Marcus spent the entire time apart stealing glances at each other while half paying attention to the conversations you were supposed to be engaged in.

Though you had been together for nearly eighteen months in total, your plan for the night upon your return home was very distracting. It could be claimed it was because you and Marcus were still early into your marriage, the whole newlywed thing, but the honest truth was that the idea of having unprotected sex with the intention of getting pregnant was a turn on for you, and it seemed, based on his intense gaze whenever your eyes met, that Marcus shared your sentiment.

That's why you weren't caught off guard when, just before midnight, he gathered you up in his arms immediately after stepping through the front door to the quaint little house you'd inherited from one of your late great grandmothers.

His broad hands were already under your blouse before you could register the movement, skating over the slopes of your shoulder blades and down the curve of your spine before slipping back up to repeat the action.

Your hands found his expansive shoulders as you pressed your lips to his and walked backwards, guiding him away from the door, just as anxious as him for what would come next. He swiftly kicked the door shut behind him (an action that you found pretty hot) and followed you through the moonlit kitchen and down the dark hallway, to the master bedroom.

You didn't stop until you blindly hit the side of the bed, climbing onto it as soon as you felt the bedspread behind your bare knees. Marcus didn't let your lips separate more than a whisper apart during the whole motion, kneeling over you as you sunk down on top of the bedspread.

You reached for his belt as he deepened the kiss between you, exploring your mouth thoroughly, and you hummed happily as you fumbled with the buckle. The sound of it clinking open and you ripping the piece of leather out of the loops of his jeans in one smooth move had him grinning against your mouth. "Anxious, sweetie?"

Like he wasn’t.

"Want you so bad, Marcus." You murmured the confirmation into his ear, knowing what it would do to him, and reached for the button of his pants, popping it open. He groaned as you slipped a hand into his boxer briefs, cupping his already half hard length and stroking him a bit.

He caught your hand to still it after several seconds, breath hitching. "Keep doing that I won't make it inside you, and that would defeat the point," he rasped.

You nodded and pulled your hand away, allowing him to lift your shirt up and off your body during the motion. The rest of your clothes, yours and his, were quickly discarded thereafter, socks the last to join the other scattered clothing on the floor.

Marcus traced the curves of your body as he hungrily kissed his way down it simultaneously, licking at sensitive spots to elicit moans from you as he traveled along, until his thick fingers were sliding through your folds and circling your clit.

You threw your head against the pillow behind you, grasped at the bed beneath you, and arched your back as his fingers expertly built up the heat and pressure inside you, slowly but surely, until your body was seizing with a pleasure that had you gasping loudly. As you panted afterwards, you opened your eyes to Marcus hovering over you, lips inches from yours, eyes dark and burning right through yours.

"So hot," he told you at a whisper. "You're so beautiful when you come."

They were words of praise you were far from unfamiliar with, but ones that always made your gut twist with desire, and he knew it.

He dipped his head to kiss you along your jaw, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your eyes droop as you focused on the sensation of his teeth nipping at your skin.

"Marcus," you said under your breath, impatiently, "Please. Take me. I wanna have your baby. Been thinking about it all night."

His eyes grew darker than you'd ever seen them before, and he snapped them shut briefly, releasing a guttural groan as he pressed his body closer to yours and you splayed open to him. He slid himself inside you in one smooth move when your eyes met again, burying himself to the hilt, and you dipped your head to bite his shoulder at the intensity of him filling you up. It felt so good, and so easy, with how wet you were from your earlier release.

You wound your legs around his waist as he began rocking into you and you reclaimed his lips needily as you tilted your hips in time with his. One of his hands found your face while the other molded onto your hip, guiding it to press harder into his every time he plunged into you, wanting you impossibly close. You clung to him tightly, fingers embedded in the hair at the base of his neck, eyes barely open. You could feel the tension inside you mounting every time he dragged along inside you, and it was quickly becoming overwhelming, especially since you'd already climaxed minutes before.

The sounds Marcus was making, his soft grunts and moans, were not helping. He sounded utterly lost in you, in the pleasure he was taking from being inside you, and it made heat pool in your belly, set fire in your veins.

It wasn’t long before you were moaning loudly, absolutely shattering beneath him, and when he felt you clench down around him he shuddered and spilled his seed into you with a strained groan.

He collapsed onto you after, as he tenderly covered your mouth with his, the kiss almost lazy. Afterwards he rested his forehead against yours, making no attempt to pull out of you as he caught his breath.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest with how he'd molded himself against you. It was racing at a similar rate as your own.

You relaxed, letting your legs slide off his back, and you nuzzled your nose against his cheek, inhaling his sweaty scent as your breathing began to steady.

"You going to stay in me all night, baby?" you asked him eventually, smiling. This was new. He usually pulled out moments after making love to you. Not that you were going to complain. It was just an observation.

"Whatever it takes," he replied, laving at your neck attentively. You understood immediately what he meant. Whatever it takes to get you pregnant. Your stomach flipped. If you'd know trying for a baby with your husband would be so hot, you'd have jumped at it sooner. Damn.

You winked at him playfully. "I think you've done your part well," you declared. "But no complaints from me if you want to be extra sure nothing leaks out."

You bumped his ass with the back of one of your heels suddenly, sending him jolting deeper into you, and you both beamed at each other after, your smile much more wicked than his.

He didn't actually stay in you all night, but you did spend a lengthy time after still linked as you kissed each other everywhere you could reach, thoroughly enjoying your closeness until sleep beckoned.

And when it did, he separated from you only to tug you against his chest and bury his face against the back of your head, an arm draped over you almost possessively.

You smiled softly into the darkness and reveled in the warmth of him against your back until you drifted off.

xxx

Tagged: harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#Marcus Pike Fanfic (Mine)#X Reader #Baby Fever Series

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z-h-i-e · 1 year

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15 questions for 15 followers

@thatonetimetraveller has questions...I have answers...thanks for the tag <3

Are you named after someone?

Why yes...

I'm named after a character in a book/film. The character in the film was played by someone with the same first name. It's a fantasy story, a time-travelling ghost I suppose would be the best way to summarize. Film was from 1948; book from 1940; story based in the depression era.

The thing is, it's a name that happens to be the most popular name that was like this many *spreads arms out* years running, so the assumption is just my parents were hipsters of the day, going with the same thing as everyone else.

The truth is, they had the names Christopher and Miranda picked out; when the fam heard of the name Miranda, displeasure was announced. So then my parents were like, nah, okay, we'll think of something else...

But then I was suddenly, like, hewwo world!, and I arrived ON TIME (like, the only time ever really) TO THE DAY (I have confirmation on my begetting day, which is kind of cool), so as my mom was in the hospital room and things were happening and my arrival was like NOW...the movie was playing on the TV in the room, and my parents decided it was a good name, soooooo...

I am named after the title character in Portrait of Jennie (not the 70s and 80s fad, strangely enough). A cute but creepy child ghost time traveler who grows up and falls in love with an artist.

Now - fun additional fact - I did actually marry an artist who is in fact more than a handful of years older. Fate be like that.

My middle name comes from my grandmother on my father's side.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Today when I found out that Murphy the Eagle who has been trying to hatch a rock for the longest time is now getting to be a dad to an orphaned eaglet. Don't let your dreams be dreams, Murphy!

3. Do you have kids?

I have three floofs and a feathered friend. Also a fox that lives in my yard and poops on top of my shed. (Relevant because we are currently looking for a roofer for our garage, and the roofers keep letting me know there's a pile of poop on top of the shed and I have to explain this isn't a prank.) This is a third generation fox. This fox lives with a giant orange outdoor cat.

Indoor floofs are Angry Old Lady Cat (Oreo - she'll be 20 soon, so in human years, that's like 180 or something, she's allowed to be angry at everyone who isn't me or Smaug), Cat Who Thinks Is Dog (General Patters - that beautiful asshole might knock shit off tables and sneeze on me, but twice a day like clockwork he's on his perch for his meds, doesn't fight them, comes when called, and sits on command), Doggo Who Has No Brakes (Princess Paige - she was born blind, but a rough tough cream puff who is braver than most animals I know, and is easily bribed by hotdogs and cookies), and Felix. Felix is a lovebird who turned 23 this month. He's a solo fella since 2018, and he's living his best life (and still blows my mind when I think of historical world events that happened in the last twenty years... like, PJ's LOTR trilogy is over 20 years old, but what's older? Dis birb.)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

No. I also don't always understand sarcasm. I have had times when it's thought I am using sarcasm and I'm not. But I can write it, when it's written I know what it is when I see it. Usually.

I do appreciate, growing up, that my dad could tell when I was confused and would let me know sarcasm was in use. That helped.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their voice. Many physical things can change; voices usually stay the same, so I try to key into voices, and that helps me remember people better later. (And yes, that means communicating on the internet is like this wild party with the sound muted and I'm wandering around sometimes wondering 'do I know you?' This is part of why I really, really like Discord servers with open voice chat channels in them. I appreciate Discord mods who have vc as an option in their servers so much.)

6. What's your eye colour?

Officially, listed as brown. Technically, hazel. Just like the car I drive, as long as they work, I don't care what color they are.

7. Scary movies or good endings?

Sometimes you can have both.

8. Any special talents?

A couple nights ago, I found out I can write different words with each hand simultaneously. Apparently that seems pretty strange to those with whom that information was shared. I guess if people read this and reply in the comments that this isn't rare, then I'll have to find another talent. (Can also write stories while singing completely unrelated songs. This is allegedly another oddity. We joke at work that I am a dual core processor.)

9. Where were you born?

In the city I now live again after several life detours.

10. What are your hobbies?

All of them.

11. Do you have any pets?

Please see the question about my children.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

You mean all the ones they forced me to in gym class, or just the electives?

Okay, on purpose, I played softball (catcher mostly - I have large hands >.> moving right along), did some archery, and kickboxed.

I also was on the tennis team for one day. I broke my wrist during the first practice tripping over a racket someone left on the ground behind me. Clearly not one of my finer moments.

Additionally, I'm part of an ongoing game of tag that dates back to 2016. I'm currently it. That counts, right?

13. How tall are you?

I'm taller than average, but I'm still shorter than all of my siblings, and being the eldest, I don't want to talk about it. #Fingon-mood

14. Favorite subject in school?

Elementary: Geography; Math Middle School: History; Science; Any Hands-on class (carpentry, art, sewing, etc.) High School: Orchestra, Jazz Band; German College: Copyright Law; Animation/Film But overall, any time I got to use a computer, program a computer, take apart a computer, build a computer, etc... I was there first. I used to constantly sign up for Saturday morning computer time at the elementary school. My poor mother, having to take me to the school on the bus on Saturday mornings, and I'd be this little first grader sitting there plunking away at BASIC or playing the Snoopy game while the 6th-8th graders were typing up papers and doing serious business.

15. Dream job?

I am living the dream

No pressure tags:

I choose you, @melkorwashere @unnamedelement @violinclad @thelioninmybed @lferion @jaz-the-bard @raisingcain-onceagain @thraaaaaaaanduuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiil @sallysavestheday @synechd0che

@jhelenivarsimae @maglor-my-beloved @thedaughterofshadows @hhimring @elfscribe and all others who want to do the thing

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calmthefuckdownalright · 2 years

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"A little bit of what I earned"

A/N: yes the title is that one creepy line that Wilbur hates singing in 'Your New Boyfriend'. Fight me! Also not all warnings posted will be in the specific post that is being read. No warnings might not be used in the part! They're there so you can know that this whole series experiences this throughout the parts if you're uncomfortable with reading them 👍.

Warnings (Full Series): Cursing, violence, abuse, PTSD, grief, kidnapping, gore, death, explosives, possession

Setting: Outside of Pogtopia

Time Frame: Immediately after Part 1

Genre: 🌷fluff with some 🍃 angst

Pairing: C!Wilbur Soot x Fem!Reader (confirmed Relationship)

AU: Front Lines of L'manberg Rewritten

Note: Also I have a HC that Wilbur uses certain nicknames for stages of relationships. 'dear' for the start out of a new relationship, 'Darling' once he gets especially comfortable with you since it seems like a more private or endearing term though he uses it freely, and 'Love' for his fiance or spouse. Ofc S.B.I being how close they are and the canon family relationship knows this system of his. I'll have a separate post explaining my full reasoning behind it out later.

Previous | Next (loading...)

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"Y/N I think I want to marry you..."

You pulled off of Wilbur's chest quickly. Quick enough to clip his nose with your neck where he rested quietly before saying the words that enacted your reaction.

"Owww" he rubbed the feature as you stuttered over syllables.

"Wh-wha-what do you mean?!" You panicked. Marriage?! "Why?!" You said alarmed. Was he okay? You pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. No fever.

"Because Darling," he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your hand to feel his beating heart. It was steady with it's rhythm. Not a single misbeat of fear or doubt. "I love you more than I ever thought was capable of happening to me."

Wilbur changed position to where one knee rested in the grass and the other was propped up as one would when proposing.

"When I thought of you dying today, of Schlatt taking you away, of even EXISTING without you," You stared into his eyes, tears threatening your own. "I couldn't breathe. God, Y/N, it was so painful." His voice cracked.

"I realized then that dying a thousand deaths would be a better option than being without you." Wilbur grasped both your hands now, the one he hadn't already had held had wandered up to your mouth aimlessly. "I love you F/N (full/name), and I couldn't bear letting you go."

"Wilbur," you choked on your words. "Wil you're gonna make me cry." You sniffed and couldn't help the smile twitching at your lips.

"You don't have to answer me now, but please Y/N, consider it." Wilbur pleaded, his brow turning upwards as his smile faltered ever so slightly.

"We've been together hardly a year Wilbur. If even half one!" You exclaimed.

"Please Y/N, I know this! Just think about it. You know how I feel now, and I can only hope that you feel just as passionately about me." Wilbur brought you to your feet as he stood. He brushed a thumb over your cheek and kissed your hand wrapped in his.

"Please." He said again, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat and looked at you again. "I can't lose you again."

You hugged him then. Around his neck and he bent to make it easier on both you and him. The man gets cricks too you know!

"I'll think about it Wil." You agreed and felt his arms loop around your waist as the silent melody of nature guided the two of you in a slow sway of dance.

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

Morning broke above the leaves and you grumbled and curled tighter against Wilbur's side. His arm shifted against your back and an intake of breath raised his chest which only made you awaken more. You carefully sat up, cautious not to bother your sleeping boyfriend. Perhaps fiance as you thought about his offer from the night.

You almost thought it was a dream. Part of you believed it.

"it hasn't even been a year. How could he be thinking of marriage already?"

Your mind argued with itself over the situation.

"He had a child with a fish when he was hardly an adult. That's just how he is."

"At least he thinks you're the one for him and isn't afraid to say it."

"He's just reacting under pressure the war is getting to him. Schlatt is getting to him. He's acting on impulse only at this point. He can't actually be ready for this?"

"Don't you want it too though?"

You looked back on the memories of the fantasies you'd built up with Wilbur. Each walk and deep conversation pulling you further down into the pits of love. It was intoxicating to be around him. Exciting and like drowning each time he smiled or laughed or winked. There was no doubt in your mind that you loved Wilbur Soot with all your heart. Your soul. Your being.

There was no doubt you'd go to the ends of the Earth for this man. So why not to the altar? By the time you'd thought everything over again and again Wilbur began to stir beside you.

"Love? Everything okay?" He asked raspily. His rare in appearance sleepy voice rumbling deep in the air.

"God daaaaaaaammmmmmnnnnn it!" You thought and couldn't help the heat rising to your cheeks. If there was one thing you would enjoy immensely above everything else if you married him it was waking up to THAT every morning.

"Yeah everything's fine." You nodded and placed your hand on his, looking at both sets of fingers begin to intertwine out of habit. "Wil I've thought about what you said last night and-" Wilbur cut you off with his own rushed voice.

"Please, I'm sorry about that. I-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or put any pressure on you-" Wilbur started rambling. You pressed a finger to his speeding lips.

"Wilbur I'm saying yes." You jutted in quickly with a light tired smile.

"What?" Wilbur said, his voice cracking through the sleepy rasp which only made you turn redder in the cheeks as you brushed a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Yes Wilbur, I accept your proposal." You said again and let out a laugh. Wilbur's lips twitched up and he seemed dumbfounded.

"Am I dreaming?" He said with a chuckle. You leaned and kissed him. When you pulled away you nipped his bottom lip playfully.

"Are you?" You said happily. Wilbur smirked, then smiled widely before leaping at you and tackling you back into the grass with a wild grin and a thousand kisses peppering you facial features and neck happily.

"Wilbur!" You laughed excitedly. His hair tickled your face as he covered you in his lips, even going as far as licking you once to which you swatted him away for. Spoilers: it didn't help much as he quickly just attacked you again with affection.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me Darling." Wilbur smiled against your cheek and kissed you fiercely on the skin. "God I could just devour you." He chuckled and resumed his scattering of kisses.

You laughed at each touch of his lips until the forest echoed with the joyous noise of both your voices. His showering you with affectionate words and his lips claiming every inch of your neck up.

"Wil you're gonna kill me!" You laughed as air became a thing of memory.

"Then shoot me in the heart my Dear, for there is no life without you." Wilbur panted and leaned over you with a goofy grin. The coat hung off his body creating a sort of halfway down wall, caging you under him and his dopey face. His hair hiding half of his face above you before your hand grabbed his collar and pulled him down on top of you as you kissed him deeply.

A smile spread across your lips as you thought of the future you agreed to. The smell of old coffee and gunpowder and stone. A voice like quiet thunder each time you fell asleep. A symphony of life under your ear every night and morning. Perfection at your side.

Wilbur gasped as he pulled away. Not dramatically, but enough to make you laugh again which made him laugh. He kissed you gently on the lips over and over until he was out of breath and rolled to lay beside you again. You huffed as he played with your hair falling around your head.

"We should probably get back to Pogtopia before Tommy comes looking for us and finds us like this." You turned your head to your new fiance.

"But why?" Wilbur's brow furrowed with disappointment.

"The poor boy will be traumatized if he sees us like this. You'll never hear the end of it from Phil if he tells either." You pointed out. Wilbur groaned pitifully and got to his feet, helping you up once he was balanced. He gave you another loving kiss before taking your hand and leading the way back.

Wilbur, of course, still couldn't help himself from pulling you into him and sneaking rounds of happy kisses as you walked. You could see the hill that Pogtopia laid inside and he stopped behind you completely.

"Wil?" You said and kept your hands together. "Wil what's wrong?"

"Nothing I just," he blinked rapidly and something seemed to clear in his eyes. "I-I don't know. Just got phased out for a second there. Sorry love." Wilbur chuckled and closed the gap between you two till he was standing beside you as you walked.

Wilbur dug out the entrance and replaced it behind him once he walked through after you. Then he took the lead and guided you down the stairs and dark fireplace bridges until Pogtopia was below your feet solidly again.

"You're tense again." Wilbur said quietly and hovered over your jaw with a hand, barely grazing your skin as you folded your free arm over your chest. Pogtopia did make you uncomfortable but only through the memory of being trapped in Schlatt's basement.

"I'm okay Wilbur, really." You assured with a lying smile. He didn't seem convinced but continued on holding your hand and walking through the ravine base.

"And where have you guys been?" A teasing voice echoed above. Wilbur stopped and summoned a sword quickly, pushing you behind him before looking up to see his brother-in-anarchy, Technoblade, sitting on a ledge of the ravine.

"We went out last night. Fell asleep in the forest." Wilbur sighed and sheathed his blade. You tightened your hand around his and stepped out to his side. He squeezed your palm lightly in assurance that it was okay. Technoblade clearly wasn't in a fighting state of mind as of now.

"Oh uh huh." The pigman jumped down from his legs, skillfully landing without hardly a grunt on impact. "Yeah Phil won't buy that. Or Tommy really." The legend huffed a small laugh and folded his arms. The black and white fur lined cape swayed at his back softly as if a breeze blew by him constantly.

"Phil's here?!" Wilbur exclaimed.

"No, but Tommy's got him on call. He's been kinda freaking out and exaggerating everything. Y'know, Tommy stuff." Technoblade said calmly as if he didn't just drop the fact that Tommy was telling PHILZA MINECRAFT, your fiance's DAD, an exaggerated version of what he knew about last night. And lets be honest, its Tommy. He's gonna say some things he doesn't know about either.

"Oh and he's taken your diamonds." Technoblade added and you watched a smile twitch on his pig-like face.

"He's WHAT?!" Wilbur released your hand and darted to the small area Tommy had begun to dig out for himself on the other end of the ravine. Your body jerked after him from the strength of his release and you shook out your arm as Technoblade came and stood next to you.

"So how'd it go?" He asked gruffly.

"What do you mean?" You asked and watched at Wilbur vanished into the whole in the wall of Tommy's room.

"Y'know," Techno said in a teasing voice. "being with Wilbur ALL night." The pigman smirked at you 'knowingly.'

"You're disgusting Technoblade." You scoffed and folded your arms. "We didn't do anything like that. We talked mostly and for your information it was very nice." You explained matter-of-factly.

"Hmm...good." Technoblade said blatantly. "Wil got really worried when you weren't at the house after the election apparently. Tommy told me he punched through the first walls of Pogtopia when he couldn't find you."

You turned over the thought of Wilbur punching through the stone at the entrance and felt your cheeks flush. You hadn't even seen him shirtless but if he was able to do that? Holy Hell.

"Tommy you give me back my shit before I shoot you." You heard Wilbur yell and held back a snicker.

"Should we help them?" You turned to Technoblade.

"Nah...they'll sort it out one way or another." Technoblade insisted and the two of you watched the brothers chase each other over diamond blocks. You almost forgot no one knew of your plans to marry Wilbur by the time Philza showed up in auditory form to sort out his sons.

~~~~~~~

"C'mon mates, now what's happened?" You heard Phil ask. You had gone to Techno's potato farm and were pulling weeds and such. General tending things.

"Tommy took my diamonds so I shot him." Was the short version of Wilbur's story. "And now he's stuck in his own Redstone contraption.

"Wait what?" You exclaimed and came out of the side farm room.

"Oh hello Y/N." Phil exclaimed as your voice penetrated the call.

'Y/N's here too?" Tubbo's voice surprised you and you spotted the spy with a pick axe in hand. He must've shown up sometime while you were tending to the food supplies.

"Been here the whole time, now how has Tommy gotten himself stuck?" You chuckled and came to where Wilbur was standing with a dopey grin and red face from laughing.

"Love, it's so stupid. He was tryna make a piston door!" Wilbur laughed and leaned on your shoulder with his head resting against yours.

"'Love?'" Phil, Tommy, and Technoblade exclaimed in unison.

"What?" Tubbo said as the area became deathly quiet. You too were confused and you couldn't feel Wilbur breathing.

"Wil? What's wrong?" You chuckled uncomfortably. Techno was staring at the two of you with a slack jaw and a dumb smile. Tommy, from what you could see of his trapped form, was dumbfounded to speechlessness as well. Phil was silent as a mouse.

"Yeah why's it so weird that he called her 'love?' I think it's cute they have little nicknames." Tubbo stated.

"Because Tubbo," Phil's voice had a smile behind it, you could hear it. "Wilbur has a system of his nicknames."

"Any new girlfriend of his is called 'dear', then 'darling' for some reason, and then 'love' once he's fully head over heels." Technoblade explained.

"He's never called anyone 'Love' yet." Phil started to laugh.

"Wait, Wilbur you have STAGES for nicknames?!" Tubbo too began to laugh lightly.

"Oh shut up!" Wilbur's face turned a deep red as he growled at Tubbo. You smiled at him.

"No one's ever gotten to 'Love?' What about Sally?" You asked with a wavering smile.

"She left me before I could say it." He grumbled low enough for only you to hear.

"Awww Wilbur!" You said teasingly which only made his fave turn a darker red.

"Is this really how you wanna start off our engagement?" Wilbur said without hesitation which sent another wave of silence over the group before Tubbo broke it with Tommy in unison with him.

"YOU'RE ENGAGED?!"

"Wooooooahhh!!" Technoblade exclaimed with a smile. "I'm gonna be a brother-in-lawwww!!" He said triumphantly.

"Congrats you two. When did this happen?" Phil asked with his disembodied voice.

"I asked her last night under the stars." Wilbur admitted, staring far into your eyes. Tommy audibly gagged.

"That is very disgusting." He gagged again.

"Do you want to get out of there or not?" Wilbur turned to his trapped brother with a smoldering gaze and angry tone. Tommy apologized softly with a plead to yes let him out.

Eventually Tommy was freed and all the diamonds accounted for. Philza left to spend time with Mumza, or Kristin, and Technoblade vanished to go and search for something though he never said what. Just that it required a Nether trip.

Tommy removed himself from the equation and went mining for materials to build up Pogtopia and negotiate with possible allies over separate calls where he couldn't be disturbed or distracted.

That left you and Wilbur alone and although you could've taken advantage of the new opening for another affection war, the two of you opted for building off rooms to lead to storage and even an office for Wilbur to organize war plans. You yourself added a side room that was just big enough for the two of you to live in.

~~~Couple Weeks Later ~~~

Pogtopia was expanding. Allies flooding in like refuges in a storm. Niki, Fundy, Jack, and many others. Then a day came while you were crafting new tools to go Nethering with for Netherite and a new ally approached. One that was not entirely welcomed by you.

"Y/N, Love, we've got a new ally." Wilbur called out for you from his office. You'd long since built another off room from your shared quarters for you yourself to work in with its own separate Nether Portal straight into your Nether Mine.

"I'll go see them in a bit." You responded. No reply was shouted back. Between planning your wedding after the oncoming war and trying to keep up supplies for the growing resistance, you'd hardly had any time to talk with your fiance again.

Wilbur had grown so busy it was like talking to a wall of obsidian and the times he did respond it wasn't like he did. You heard him one time on the surface while you were gathering wood, talking with Tommy at the edge of the forest.

"Are we the bad guys?"

He had asked. Wilbur was doubtful of the war. Questioning his decisions and losing touch with you. He wasn't the man who proposed to you under the stars or had a system for his nicknames. You had hope still though. Everyone was stressed under the circumstances, you as well had changed in a way.

Since your kidnapping you'd trained with Technoblade and Phil (when he was around) in self defense. You mastered the cross bow and bow. A sharpshooter had emerged from the ashes of your trauma and a single arrow was all you needed to shoot down the one who wronged you. Schlatt was Wilbur's kill. No one questioned that. The tyrant had ruined everything the leader had built then turned his people against him.

Meanwhile a certain Vice President was in your sights. And you didn't miss.

"C'mon Love, even I have to attend this meet and greet." Wilbur came up behind you as you were scribbling down items you needed from your planned expedition into the firey Hell that was the Nether.

You sighed and set the quill into the ink pot before getting up and taking Wilbur's limp hand and leaving the study and office with him. You kept your crossbow loaded and ready in case an ambush occurred from the new 'ally.'

"Good you're both here!" Tommy seemed excited as he led the both of you to the surface and deep into the woods away from Pogtopia. A certain rendezvous designated for new recruits isolated and far from the Revolution base.

All the non-spies were present...Technoblade in other words. Everyone knew he was against government so it was pointless in trying to convince Schlatt's Manberg that he wasn't with Pogtopia.

As you emerged from the shade of the trees and spotted the new ally you stopped in your tracks and drew your crossbow within a blink of an eye.

Both Wilbur and Tommy flinched as you aimed.

"What the HELL are you doing here?!" You growled.

"Oh hey Y/N! Long time no see?" Quackity chuckled and held up his hands defensively.

"HE'S the new recruit?!" You looked at Tommy quickly before tightening your grip on the weapon in your hands, aimed to kill.

"Well yeah....he's gotten tired of Schlatt's disrespect. He wants to fight against him now." Tommy said rather confused.

"Why's he a problem Y/N?" Wilbur asked and side eyed the man in the suit.

"He's the one who drugged me and took me to Schlatt!" You hissed and readied your finger to shoot if Quackity so much as shuffled his feet wrong.

Wilbur's demeanor changed and the air cracked with a tension that could spark a thousand fires.

"Big Q," Tommy turned to the recruit. "Is this true?" He asked.

"Well y-yeah but I've changed I swear! Schlatt is a tyrant and he's killing Manberg! Even I didn't want this to happen!" Quackity pleaded desperately. Wilbur's boots crunched over the stiff grass as he made his way over to Quackity.

"Do you have any idea what you did?" You could hardly hear Wilbur's growl.

"Wil please I'm sor-" Quackity choked as Wilbur grabbed his collar and picked him up off the ground. Now you released your crossbow slightly and walked over to Wilbur.

"Do you KNOW what you did?!" Wilbur yelled at the Vice President of Manberg. Birds flew from the trees and a powerful echo bounced off the leaves.

"Wilbur-" you rested your hand on his shoulder. The General flinched and dropped Quackity before twisting around and grabbing your wrist with a strength you didn't know he had. It hurt and you jerked away.

Almost as soon as he did it Wilbur let go in a look of horror at his actions.

"Y/N Darling I'm-" Before he could finish you shook your head.

"It's fine Wil. We're all tense." You said quickly and flexed your wrist where he grabbed. You could already feel a slight bruise forming. The tension crackled as you approached Quackity, Wilbur stepping aside with his head hung low. You would assure him later that it was only an act of impulse and you were fine.

"Y/N I'm sorry again for what I did. I do regret it I do! You've gotta believe me!" Quackity pleaded with you. Deep down you could feel he meant it.

"I'll give you a chance." You said with gritted teeth. "But! If you even THINK of betraying us or hurting my friends, I will not hesitate to gut you like a fish. Understood?" You hissed and Quackity nodded.

"Yes yes I understand! Crystal clear!" Quackity's voice lifted in his newly earned place in the Revolution.

"Tommy, you recruited him. You show him around and get him suited." You instructed to Tommy and started your walk back to Pogtopia not daring to remove your hands from the crossbow you'd enchanted to perfection.

You heard a rustling behind you but didn't turn to see who it was. You already knew from the thump of the steps. Wilbur.

"Love please! Let me apologize!" You heard him plead behind you. You weren't angry at him no. Sure it was alarming for him to use such force on you but you knew the kind of stress he was under. No matter how much it hurt he was just trying to get his home back. A home you both could live in after this was all over.

"There's nothing to apologize for Wil." You kept on walking until he dashed up behind you and wrapped his arms tightly around you, thus stopping you in your tracks. Tears pricked at your eyes but you choked them down. This was wartime. There wasn't time for crying.

"Y/N please. What I did wasn't right. Let me apologize." Wilbur's voice cracked quietly in your ear and you couldn't help the lonely tears that slid from your face as you made th crossbow vanish and you settled your hands on his arms across your chest.

"It's fine really Wilbur. You're stressed, I'm stressed. Everyone is under a lot of pressure. An outburst-" Wilbur cut you off and turned you around to face him. One of his arms rested on your waist while the other cupped your cheek.

"Stop it! Stop saying that!" Wilbur demanded and a few more tears fell from your eyes. Some even welling up in Wilbur's own coffee brown iris'.

"Love, please. Please don't EVER accept that behavior from me." Wilbur's voice choked as he wiped your tears with his gloved thumb. The cloth was warm but you longer for his fingers. His skin caressing yours again. God you just wanted him back with you for once.

"I love you so so much Y/N and I am SO sorry for what I did. I don't know if it was impulse or stress but I don't care. You're my only and you will never deserve that treatment from me." Wilbur pulled you against his chest and you let out a sniff as you buried your face into his coat. He smelled of gunpowder and various explosive materials. Why?

"Please forgive me." Wilbur said into your neck and you pulled away, ignoring the strange smell of his clothes, and kissed him for the first time in weeks. Really kissed him. You'd both done small pecks on the cheek or head in passing but a real kiss hadn't happened since you'd been engaged which you still didn't have a ring to show for.

"I do Wilbur. I forgive you." You smiled at him and felt a wave of tension leave his body as he kissed you deeply.

"Thank you. Thank you thank you." Between each statement of gratitude he kissed you. On the cheek and neck he peppered you with kisses and 'thank you's for what felt like eternity.

"Wil we've got to get back." You laughed and pushed his shoulders away from you gently. Wilbur pouted at you before kissing you one more time and taking your hand to guide you back to Pogtopia.

There was the Wilbur you loved...the Wilbur you were gonna marry after this all was over.

°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•

I hope you enjoyed the fluff because that's about all you're gonna get for a while 😂. Spoiler Alert: its about to get dark ladies and gentlemen.

Look forward to Part 3 and I'll see you all around!

Farewell <3

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trishacollins · 2 years

Text

On The Shores Of time Pt. 3

He travels with them for a time, lets them reinvent him, shape him. It’s strange going, for they have different goals, the four of them.

Andromache stays aloof, where he can only find succor in the presence of others - in living, in experiencing life.

Yusuf theorizes that they have different purposes - theirs to shape, and his to simply exist. He is a wanderer meant to experience life.

He is rather glad to not be called to fight. He has been to war, been a soldier. Will likely be called to be one again.

But the dissonance grinds, occasionally, when Andromache is being pulled somewhere and he is being….pulled in the other direction.

It slides over them, the years of their lives. Endlessly ticking on. He finds his footing, and then finds a trade.

There is something in the ocean that calls him, whispers to him. Something in the dark water that drags up his own memories of drowning. But it’s not his fate that haunts his dreams, not his whispers.

The others never mention it, and so he never says a word about it either. But Adromache likes that he has ships, even if they disagree about the cargo he sometimes carries.

It makes it easier, after all, for them to sail the world if they only need to tell him where they are. A letter and there are papers waiting for them at the docks, his home is theirs.

They arrive at his 5th visit in that way, with Andromache fighting a war in Russia and him sitting in the pub rather concerned that she’s found a way to corner his stranger anyway - but it isn’t to be. Joanna Constatine couldn’t be further from Andromache if the two women tried. Andromache never relies on others to get their hands dirty on her behalf.

He leaves it with the first and second bit of advice his Stranger has given him, humming in his mind and a new understanding of the dangers his stranger might face. Of the dangers he might face himself.

Of the dangers, perhaps, that keep drawing him back to the dark waters. The dreams from which he cannot escape.

“He needs you.” Andromache tells him, frowning, staring at their newest recruit.

“Me?” He shifts his hand on his glass, studying the Frenchman, head tilted to the side.

“You.” Andromache confirms. “He’s…lost.”

‘Lost’ could mean a great many things, when Andromache was concerned. They had not told him that this fellow even existed, unless one counted a brief mention in one of Nicoli’s letters. But here he was, sitting in front of his fireplace, looking properly wretched. Grief may look different in every person, but it wears the soul out.

“I hardly know what I could give him that you could not, my dear.” He offers after a moment.

Andromache is tense, hunched, and when she looks at him he can feel the weight of her gaze pouring through him. If it were not for his stranger, he might feel more daunted by it. But his stranger’s gaze is heavier, and it demands yet more of him than she might be capable of. “He needs this. This-” She bites back something, and he watches something shift within her. “He needs you. He needs hope that the grief will slack it's grip on him. He needs *you*, Robert, who loves humanity even when you are drowning.”

He often wonders what Andromache thinks of him - knows that Yusuf and Nicoli think well of him, mostly, or at least think of him as a friend they accept flaws and all. But Andromache he believes thinks him careless, and fickle. A bit of a bastard, really, though he would probably not try to argue that he hasn’t been a bit of a cad these past few decades.

“Hope is a fleeting thing.” He says, after a moment. “But I think I understand your meaning. Will you stay?”

He knows she won’t, but they must ask, to dance around this topic every time. She who is never content in one place, who must go find the next cause, the next battle. He, who cannot help but find wonder in each day, no matter where he takes it. So they ask, each time. Will he go? Will she stay?

The answer is that their purpose is so different it is a wonder they can share the table for any time at all. “No. We’ve plans to be off in a week.”

“You have my home and all I have until then.” He toasts her gently.

She downs her drink without a word.

*~* To say that becoming accustomed to Sebastion takes time is an understatement, to be sure, though the man is a polite and not at all boisterous houseguest. He is new to this, and new to the grief of his new existence.

Three sons, three graves. It is almost enough to make his throat catch. Sebastian spends most of his time in the library - which is where the issue begins.

“Robert.” His voice is dry, tired, and he’s holding a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“Sebastian?” He echoes, lifting his tea.

The man looks for a moment at the papers in his hands, and then places them on the table. “These. Where did you get them?”

The papers are his best attempt to put his dreams of drowning to pad, and they’re not very good, when one considers Yusuf’s ability to pull life into the page. “A nightmare.”

Sebastian stares at the pages, face drawn. “When I died the first time….I saw the others. Not you. But the other three, and this - I saw her drowning. And then I woke up, and a few weeks later they came for me.”

Something sick settles in his chest, rotting in his stomach.

‘You can be captured.’ His Stranger had warned him. Death was not the only thing that could be done to him, the only suffering.

“You’re sure?” He asks, trying to keep the horror out of his voice.

“Very.” Sebastian’s haggard expression is less guarded than he expects. “Do you…then have the others seen her as well?”

He’s been hung as a witch, and drowned as one. He tries to imagine his existence as that - drowning, never being able to fill his lungs with air. Trapped in that hell - a bitter warning indeed, if his stranger knew of this.

“We must find out.” He says, slowly, trying to rid himself of the ache deep in his stomach. “I will write Yusuf - he will tell me.”

#hob gadling #the sandman #the old guard #andromache of scythia #sebastian le livre #yusuf al kaysani #There are so many things in my head about this right now #I feel completely normal about this #My fic

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spencermyangel · 2 years

Note

I'd like to see one where female Reid finds out her mother had an affair and that Rossi is her biological father. Maybe have them find out at the same. Possibly during a case

“Okay, let’s open them!” Garcia said. The team had all decided to get one of those genealogy tests done after Garcia had suggested it.

“Well, pretty much what i expected,” Rossi smirked, showing off his results, which were almost all Italian. The team all laughed.

Spencer glanced at her results, brow furrowing in confusion, “this doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Morgan asked, peering over.

“It says I’m almost half Italian. Neither of my parents are Italian,” Spencer's eyes wandered over the paper in confusion.

“Well maybe they didn’t know?” JJ suggested, shrugging her shoulders.

“I guess so,” Spencer responded, but she felt it was more than that.

A few weeks later, they were on a case in Las Vegas when Spencer kept having horrible recurring dreams. When she found out Riley was real and felt her dad was responsible Morgan and Rossi had stayed to help her solve the case. There had been some DNA evidence and they had decided to test it against Spencer’s DNA to see if they were similar. When it came back that they weren’t, Spencer had gone to talk to her mother.

“I just really thought it was him,” Spencer told her.

Diana bit her lip and looked at Spencer, “Sweetie, I think I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Spencer asked with wide eyes.

Diana took a deep breath, “William isn’t your biological father. I had an affair with a different man,” she explained, watching Spencer with worried eyes.

Spencer froze, “who was he?” she whispered.

Diana closed her eyes and thought, “he was Italian and I think he went on to become an author, oh what was his name?” she wondered out loud as she rubbed her head. Her eyes suddenly popped open, “it was David, his name was David Rossi.”

Spencer paced outside Rossi’ hotel room, trying to work up the nerve to go in. Suddenly the door opened and Rossi stepped out.

“Spencer?” Rossi gave her a questioning look, “why are you standing out here?”

“You're my dad,” Spencer blurted out before she could stop herself.

Rossi’s eyes widened, “excuse me?” he questioned.

Spencer flapped her hands, “my mom said you guys had an affair and that you're my dad, not William,” she frantically explained.

Realization shone in Rossi’s eyes, “I did have an affair with a woman in Las Vegas, but I didn’t know it was your mother. It was only for a week!”

Spencer bit her lip, “are you upset?” she meekly asked.

“Upset?”

“That I’m your daughter?”

Rossi's eyes widened, “of course not! Don’t ever think that, Bambi,” he said as he brought her into a hug.

A little while later they had a DNA test done, confirming they were in fact father and daughter.

Send in asks or requests here

Masterlist

#criminal minds #spencer reid #david rossi #criminal minds fanfiction

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student.

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much.

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me.

That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

Spencer is horribly frustrated.

A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

And play she has.

From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

“Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

“Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

“Yes, my love?”

Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

“I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

“Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

“I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

“You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

“Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

“You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

“That’s why.”

Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

“I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

“Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

“You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

“Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

“Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

“Jump.”

It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

“Spencer!”

Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

“You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

“I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

She silences those fears with a kiss.

“Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

“Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

“Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

“I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

“Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

“Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

“It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

“As they should. That was sensational.”

Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

“What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

“I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

“I have a few ideas.”

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todoscript · 3 years

Text

monopolize

SUMMARY: Having realized Bakugou and Midoriya’s infatuation with you, Shouto decides to make a firm point at showing that you’re his and his alone.

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader (feat. bakugou katsuki & midoriya izuku)

genre: smut. slight angst. pro hero au.

word count: 8.0k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. possessive!shouto. (!!!)coercion. exhibitionism. bondage (kinda). slight degradation. praising. squirting. humiliation (bakugou & midoriya receiving).

author’s note: so the idea for this fic came to me one day while i was studying chemistry and it kinda got out of hand the moment i started writing it...haha, oops... but anyway, shoutout to rosie ( @shoutogepi ) for listening to me ramble about this and encouraging me to write this shit, love you lots babe! <333 also a reminder to please look over the warnings before proceeding, thank you!!!

If your open jaw is not enough to emphasize your shock, then the bag that hits the floor after escaping your grasp does that job for you. It also alerts the three existing presences in the room of your arrival, to which all eyes maneuver to the door of your shared bedroom, witnessing your appalled state at what is lying in wake.

Lounging on the futon, Shouto breaks your awed silence. “Welcome home, love,” he greets, warmly as per usual whenever he arrives home from work before you do.

You’re utterly surprised by how indifferent he sounds despite the two additional faces in the room. After all, it’s not every day you’d ever expect the Pro Number One and Two heroes to be here in your very bedroom, bound by what you have to assume is your boyfriend’s ice.

Unsure how to go about your reply, you instead opt to slowly walk into the room, assessing the situation. Your wary gaze darts between the angry red eyes of Bakugou Katsuki and the strained green ones of Midoriya Izuku. “I... U-Um… Shouto? What is all of this? What are Midoriya and Bakugou doing here?” You finally manage to address the elephant in the room, yet Shouto does not tackle your questions with as much haste as you are hoping.

He gets up from the bed to meet you in the middle, gathering you in his arms before his lips find your temple—the kiss he presses soft and tender, but the fact that there are two other pairs of eyes glancing over at you from such a compromising position warms your cheeks buried in his chest.

You don’t catch how Bakugou practically wrenches at the sight while Midoriya turns away, abashed. There’s hurt discerned in their expressions that can only be akin to pure jealousy. But you don’t know that. Well, not yet anyway.

“Let me explain, love,” Shouto starts, his voice a meager space away from your ear that he tucks a hair behind, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but are you aware that these two both—”

“That’s it! I don’t have to stay here and listen to this crap!” Bakugou’s loud voice bursts out, cutting the rest of Shouto’s words short just before they fall to your ear. Watching as a fever of energy begins emitting from Bakugou’s palms trapped in the ice, the dual-haired hero quickly acts by erecting another glacier to impede the blonde’s abilities, effectively keeping him trapped there. Bakugou can only grit his teeth as he remains bound. Meanwhile, you gape at the lengths Shouto goes to prevent these two renowned heroes from leaving this space.

The chill that diffuses throughout the atmosphere of the room pairs fittingly with the frigid stare Shouto points at your guests. Ensuring the cold doesn’t affect you, he regulates your temperatures with his fire side while your body is still pressed against him before continuing. “As I was saying, these two men in front of you both harbor the same feelings for you as I do,” Shouto says. You slightly turn to meet his heterochromatic gaze with confusion written on your face, unsure what his words exactly imply.

Reading this, Shouto’s hand at your waist travels to your nape. “I’m sure you must have realized it by now, love... The way their touches linger on you for far longer than necessary whenever you meet them...” His calloused hand rubs at the back of your neck, the other traveling up your chest that yields a strained noise from your mouth.

“Or how they flirt with you whenever you visit my agency while they’re there, thinking I don’t notice. Telling you how good you look or how pretty you are.” His words meld into your skin as his lips meet below your jawline, the sensation of his nibbles manifesting your noises into frail moans that lights blushes in your spectators’ cheeks. All attempts at disregarding those cases as friendly compliments are hindered when your attention is captured by Shouto’s wandering hands and hypnotizing voice.

“Though I wholeheartedly agree with every statement, I think it’s only right of me—your boyfriend—to be a little concerned when they’re always giving you those looks.”

You bite your lip in hopes of suppressing the next noise that threatens to spill from your mouth before curiosity overtakes you. “What looks?” you pry yet not entirely ready for the answer. Shouto breaths in closely next to your ear, voice guttural and full of weight.

“Like they want to fuck you.”

His claims have your eyes blown out wide, timbre compelling goosebumps across your skin at something so vulgar departing his mouth. You try to muster out a comprehensible thought for the sake of the two heroes, but the words are drawn back in your throat. Shouto catches your guarded look.

“Now, don’t go saying they’re just being friendly with you, baby. I mean look at them. Are those the faces of two men who just want to be friends with you?”

The air has suddenly grown tense, the tension so taut it could be cut with a butter knife. Hesitantly, you shift to meet Bakugou and Midoriya’s eyes to gauge a response from them. To your surprise, all you can perceive are the sheer expressions of shame painted on their faces—red smearing their cheeks with humiliation as they can’t help but glance at anywhere else but you.

“Well?” Shouto chimes in after you’ve fully grasped the reality of the situation.

Peering into his icy heterochromatic eyes, you gulp. You know you have no right to be lying to his face, no matter how much you insist it isn’t so.

“N-No,” you admit.

A grin curves on his lips before he kisses your cheek.

“Mm, smart girl.”

Despite you waving your white flag, Shouto doesn’t stop his touches from wandering your body. He palms at sensitive areas that leave you burning. Those whimpers you’ve desperately tried to conceal unfetter from your lips when his hands inch upon skin hidden beneath your clothing. His touches are firm with a mixture of warmth and coolness that has you holding your breath. The sensations cloud your thoughts, making you forget where you are as the other presences in the room now in the back of your mind.

Midoriya and Bakugou can’t bring themselves to look anymore—can’t bear to gaze at such intimacy they can never hope to attain. Especially when your cute noises leave a twitch in their pants, a feeling they fail to cast off in shame.

“Todoroki... you made your point, now please let us out of this ice,” Midoriya says through his dry lips. Though the verdant-haired hero knows he could free himself on his own with his strength, if Shouto has anything to say about it, he’d just conjure another pillar of ice as quickly as a snap of a finger to replace the shattered ones. Considering that’s what he’s done to keep the two of them from leaving thus far.

“You can’t be fucking serious about leaving us here, Icy-Hot,” Bakugou adds with far more hostility in his tone as he shoots a glare at the red and white-haired man.

The reminder that the top two Pro Heroes are still present in the same room as you while Shouto trails his large hands at every expanse of bare flesh he can find delivers a jolt of embarrassment throughout your body. Embarrassment that somehow kindles a lick of heat in your abdomen.

“On the contrary, this is only part one of what I have in store for you two tonight,” Shouto says, lips playing on the fine line of a smirk. “In fact, I plan on ingraining in your very minds that my love belongs to me and only me by making you two watch her come undone on my cock.”

There’s disbelief throughout the room, trying to comprehend the lengths behind his words.

“W-Wait, are we really doing this in front of them?” you sputter.

“If you’re that uncomfortable about this love, then I’ll simply leave them in this room and fuck you in the next one so they can at least hear every little thing I’m doing to you,” he offers, tone descending multiple steps that rack shivers down your skin as he circles your body, standing chest to your back.

“But having an audience entices you, doesn’t it? After all, look at how wet you are.” He hooks an arm below your leg, lifting it slightly so his free hand can slip into your panties beneath your skirt, no longer blocked by your thighs clenching together. You find yourself winding an arm behind his neck to keep balance. Your eyes shut tight from both mortification and pleasure at how he strokes your slit in front of the two heroes. Sure enough, there’s an abundant amount of slick gathered at your center, the shameful squelching at your throbbing cunt not eluding anyone’s ears in the room.

“Mmm, already such a drenched fucking mess. It’s like the fact that all three of us lust for you makes you even wetter,” he whispers into your ear like a red-winged devil professing your sins to you—sins you should feel disgraceful for, yet you can’t help the exhilaration simmering in your chest. After all, having three powerful, attractive men vying for your attention is nothing short of every girl’s dream. To deny the effects this has on your body would only add dishonesty to your list of sins. Shouto takes your silence as confirmation.

Parting from your panties, he reveals his fingers coated in your shiny essence to everyone in the room. Bakugou and Midoriya water at the sight, groans stifled under their breaths as the many nights of dreaming about how sweet you taste come back to hit them all at once. The saccharine dripping between your thighs is so close, and yet so far as Shouto remains firm on his word about keeping them bound throughout his show of dominance.

Though driven in such compromising circumstances, the two Pro Heroes can’t find it within themselves to tear their eyes away from you. Perhaps in actuality, a deep, dark longing inside them secretly confesses to wanting to watch you unravel amidst the throes of pleasure, even if your undoing is due to someone that isn’t them.

“What a naughty slut you are, admitting you get off at the thought of more than one man wanting to ravage this body of yours.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear, heightening your mortification and the ever-growing wetness at your center.

“However, I’m all you need, isn’t that right, sweetheart? I’m the only man that can reduce you to this soaked, quivering mess from just my voice alone, and the only one whose cock makes your body shake with pleasure that leaves you sore for days.”

“Yes, Sh-Shouto…” you airily whimper in reply.

Shouto’s index finger presses against your trembling bottom lip, slightly smearing your slick on its plushness before he cups your face to stare directly at Bakugou and Midoriya.

“Go on then. Tell the Number One and Number Two Pro Heroes who you belong to,” he commands lowly in your ear. Before you can speak, heat ignites in your cheeks. You glance down and take note of the prominent bulges within the two’s tight clothing, their cocks positively aching to break free from the confines. The fact that the two seem to be getting off on the sight of you manhandled by Shouto is something to acknowledge.

“I… I belong to you…” Your voice wanes.

“Who? Be more specific, baby.”

“I belong to the Number Three hero, Todoroki Shouto,” you say, more clearly this time. The response is sufficient enough to satisfy the man behind you, who turns your head so your lips can connect in a passion of teeth and tongue dancing together that leaves your lungs gasping for air, detaching with ragged breaths. While you’re recovering, Shouto tugs you closer by your chin, pressing your foreheads against each other, where you gander into the depths of his gray and turquoise eyes swimming with lust.

“That’s right, and no one else is going to fuck you like I am tonight.” He sneaks a side-glance at his fellow heroes. “They can only watch as I drive my cock into your pussy over and over again, wishing they were me.”

Midoriya remains silent, letting his troubled expression speak for him, blush persisting on his face. Bakugou, on the other hand, decides to spit a few words out.

“Fuck. You.”

Make that only two words. Still, the venom dripping off each one gets his point across, in that he’s absolutely livid. But sadly for him, it has no effect on the calm and collected Todoroki Shouto.

Taking you by the hand, he leads you to the futon, sprawled out flat for your small audience to behold the entirety of your fucking tonight. Shouto kisses the back of your hand before leaving you to continue standing. He settles himself on the sheets with his arms propped behind him to view up at you as you obediently wait for his orders.

“Well, love, you know what to do. Take off some clothes for me,” he says gruffly. You oblige, slowly peeling off layers. Your skirt piles into a heap on the floor at undoing the zipper holding it in place, quickly followed by the blouse tossed over your head which leaves the remaining clothing on your body your mismatched lingerie. The dainty, silk intimates are the only thing separating you from being fully exposed to everyone.

Even given a sparing view of you from behind, Midoriya and Bakugou readily eat you up. If they somehow haven’t been undressing you with their eyes before this, then they certainly are now. Bakugou zeroes in on your pert ass, emphasized by your panties, and itches to grasp its softness in his own palms, desiring to squeeze, rub, and spank till his heart’s content.

Contrarily, Midoriya has his sights set on the clasp of your bra. What he wouldn’t give to unfasten it from your body and have the article of clothing slip off your skin, putting your beautiful breasts on display, nipples likely stiff and begging for the attention of his fingers and mouth.

It’s unfortunate for them that no such fantasies will come true tonight. After all, you don’t belong to them. You belong to Shouto.

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, you rub your thighs together to create some friction between your lower lips, trying to subside the throb growing in your belly. But you can only endure for so long when Shouto is staring at you with such scalding intensity. You’re struggling to hold onto the remnants of your dignity before it’s stripped away from you at the next command.

“Baby, you’re gorgeous, but,” Shouto hums, admiring the view for a second longer before cutting to the chase, “I want it all off.”

Not wasting any time, your thumbs hook under the waistband of the silk, quickly casting the panties to join the pile below your feet. The way your web-like slick connects your folds to the material before breaking off as your panties reach the ground does not go unnoticed. Your bra, of course, is the next to be discarded—unhooked and tossed, unveiling your tits to the chilly air.

Defenses torn down, you stand bare and exposed to all eyes in the room. You don’t miss the glint flitting in the mismatch of Shouto’s eyes, staring at you like he’s uncovered a beautiful pearl beneath the ocean. Though this is far from your first time engaging in your sexual desires with him, you always fall prey to that carnal look of his, which seemed even more lecherous tonight. He runs a finger on his lips pulled into a seductive smile, eyes piqued at your naked form.

Prickles of arousal travel down your spine. You can’t discern whether it’s the very thought of your vulnerability or the fiery looks you swear are piercing into you at every angle that has you tingling with anticipation.

Either way, such spark coursing through your veins drives you into Shouto’s waiting arms as he beckons you to him. He welcomes you onto his lap, allowing your thighs purchase next to his own while his large hands grope at your soft skin. It isn’t long until your lips meet again, Shouto coaxing—no—prying them open with his tongue as it finds yours, brushing the underside and chasing with zeal. His roughness has you at a loss for words, quite literally as all you can respond with are the airy moans leaking out between each fervent lip-lock. When Shouto grabs at one of your mounds, index finger circling your perky nipple, you let out a surprised squeak.

Your two bystanders’ dicks stutter in response at the noises, having absolutely nothing to do but watch and listen in envy. Every time they hear such a sweet succession of sounds from you, they fidget in their positions, attempting to pathetically generate some pressure against their clothes to alleviate the pain in their cocks.

Shouto does not miss the way they struggle within his periphery, smirking at their pitiful attempts to find any form of relief. At this, a sly thought flickers in his head.

With his hands on your hips, he guides your body further against his own. You find your knees supporting you up while your upper body leans over Shouto, hands gripping his shoulders to keep you steady. The position he’s led you in doesn’t grant you many options, besides obliging to be pliant in his hands.

Peeking over your shoulder, you flush with heat when you realize your ass is perked in the direction toward Midoriya and Bakugou. The troubling thoughts of whether you should feel flustered or flattered by their mesmerized state at how spread you are, hovering above Shouto’s lap, is ripped away when the Pro Hero begins cascading his hands across your skin. His palms waver back and forth within the boundaries of your ass and thighs, every now and then squeezing your warm flesh during his crossings between the two.

“Mmm, Sho…” you whine, the palpable neediness in your voice begging for him to touch your throbbing center already. Bakugou and Midoriya wish for the same, tormented by how slow he decides to take his caressing. If it were up to them, they’d already be tongue deep in your pussy already, perhaps even bottoming their cocks inside your walls, considering how soaked you must be. But no, Shouto wants this night to last. And he’s going to set the pace however he sees fit.

One of Shouto’s hands creeps beneath your leg to maneuver them further apart before his palms find their place at the underside of your poised ass. A short sigh floats amid your parted lips at how he spreads your cheeks, exposing your cunt freely to the two. You hear a groan, followed by an obscene “fuck…” that has you wondering what the view must be like from their perspective to render them so awestruck.

And man, if only you could see your pretty little cunt—wet, glistening, and fluttering on nothing, pleading for stimulation. Stimulation that Shouto grants sparingly as his middle and ring finger suddenly prod your slit, tearing a surprised gasp from your mouth while you toss your head backward.

Your slippery pussy coats his fingers in an opalescent sheen. He hums at the debauched image of your body yearning his touch. “Such a slutty, needy pussy… So messy, even though I haven’t even taken my clothes off yet.” Shouto takes the sullied fingers into his mouth, swiping his tongue at your delectable taste abiding his digits. It’s obscene how he makes a show of drinking up the honey from your thighs to taunt Midoriya and Bakugou, groaning between licks like it’s the one thing keeping him sustained. Well, then again, Shouto could probably survive on your essence for days if he tried, considering his favorite places to be is between your thighs anyway.

Head tilting in the direction behind you, you could’ve sworn you saw one of the two licking their lips while the other swallowed a large, heavy gulp. Before you can question it further, Shouto’s words resume ringing in your ear.

“It’s all for me right, love?” he asks as though he doesn’t already know the answer.

Your body quivers as he dives down to continue prodding your cunt before you can even respond properly. “Y-Yes, it’s just for you, Sho— Ah..!” You try your best to muster the words out. But his fingers give you no moment to spare. A jolt of pleasure spikes through your body as he reaches your clit, leaving your voice hanging in the air.

“Unnf... f-fuck...”

Shouto is relentless this time, attending to your bundled nerves at an excruciating rhythm that has you swaying your hips into his hands. Then all coherent thoughts are whisked away when you feel two fingers penetrating your sloppy pussy, thrusting into places you could never reach on your own, and prepping your walls for what’s to come.

“Baby, you take my fingers so well, you’re practically sucking them in,” he praises, reveling in the way you writhe in pleasure at him playing with your cunt. Whining, your legs move further apart involuntarily, allowing him deeper access.

You shake amid his ministrations, teeth pulling at your bottom lip at every sultry sensation rushing through your body. Wrinkling the fabric of his white shirt, your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails sinking deeper into clothed skin when you feel that familiar ache boiling in your abdomen.

“Your thighs are trembling just trying to hold you up. Going to cum soon, love?” Shouto asks. He chuckles at how vigorously you nod your head next to him, knowing your voice would fail you by the moans threatening to unravel precariously from your lips.

“Good, I want you to fucking scream. Show them how well you can cum from my fingers alone, yeah?” he murmurs beside your ear, not giving you much warning than that before suddenly increasing his movements on your cunt.

“Ah, Sho..! Sho!”

There’s nothing for you to do other than to chant his name over and over again like a mantra. You squeeze your fingers into his skin to make sure you don’t end up dissolving in his hands from the fire flaring inside you, threatening to melt you entirely.

And he loves every bit of the needy noises you make. Knowing it’s his name that echoes in the room around them, resounding in the very minds of his rivals who witness firsthand the way you scream out amidst the throes of pleasure—the scene better than any imagination of theirs they’ve conjured in their delusional fantasies—feeds Shouto’s ego deliciously.

The strained gasp you choke out when his lips make contact on your jawline has him smiling against you, the kisses he plants there blooming loving blemishes on your skin. You struggle to keep yourself together from all the sensations storming you at once. There’s something euphoric yet… foreign coursing through your body that you can’t discern, and you’re half-worried of what’s to happen when you reach your imminent release.

“Sh-Sho, wait..! Oh god, I’m gonna—!” you warn, but that only compels Shouto to speed up his pace in a last push for you to cum. From his bruising bites to his fingers methodically working you with skilled ease, it isn’t long until your escalating high peaks into intangible relief.

And god, the throb feels almost uncomfortable but so blissful at the same time.

The pressure builds up to an intense climax that has your walls clamping around his fingers, and your thighs shaking beside him while you yell out Shouto’s name. Holding you through every step of the way, his fingers steady inside you as you convulse around them. The ones at your clit continue rubbing your sensitive, swollen bud throughout your release to widen the intensity.

As your whole body trembles at the haze-induced orgasm, you lean against the hero for support.

“Ohhh baby...” His purrs rumble deep within his chest, an extra lick of delight in his tone. Your eyes are shut while you stumble down from your rapturous high, whimpering when Sho removes his fingers from your pulsating pussy.

“D-Did she just..?!” Midoriya questions incredulously, to your surprise.

“Fuck! I can’t believe she fucking squirted!” Bakugou follows.

At that, your eyes shoot open. You muster the energy to lift your body off Shouto’s lap and reveal to yourself the evident damp spot left on his pants from what you very much have to assume is a result of you gushing your release on him.

Trepidation creeps underneath your skin, swallowing you in mortification.

You really did that.

Squirted in front of the top three Pro Heroes in the country, making a mess on Sho’s pants with your flowing, translucent cum. The very reminder of it spouts your head with your overthinking.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to— I-I mean... I didn’t think I was ever a squirter. It’s just—”

“Love.”

A single word is enough to dispel your ramblings. You look up at Shouto like a deer caught in headlights, expression harrowed by apprehension. At that, he holds your shoulders, pulling you forward so he can press a reassuring kiss against your forehead. The tender gesture numbs the uneasy static racking through you, moving away to glimpse at the endearment hidden within the smoldering fog swirling in Shouto’s eyes.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures through hushed words he embeds unto your skin, hands warmly running down your sides. “Besides, you squirting on my fingers was so so sexy.” His seductive allure returns almost as quickly as it disappeared amidst his soothing tone. His touches and the extra flair in his voice makes you hot all over again despite just cumming.

“I must have made you feel incredibly good, getting you to cum so hard like that. Even giving those two over there a show. Just look at them...” Shouto whispers closely, nudging you in the direction of your onlookers whose reddening faces visibly recoil when your eyes cross. It’s as if they’ve gandered into the abyss—anxious at what’s to come yet can’t seem to look away. You flutter between their expressions, gauging their blushes and furrowed brows, before lowering your gaze at the prominent stain on the crotch of their pants, pre-cum seeping at the surface due to the arousal built watching you ruined on Shouto’s very fingers.

A part of you wonders how pent up they must be. Your curiosity dances upon lewd thoughts about how stiff their cocks are and how their lengths would look freed from the constricting clothing. Veiny, hard, and painfully red all because of you. All because of what Shouto is doing to you.

It evokes you with a newfound surge of confidence, finding solace in your sea of uncertainty. And coupled with Shouto’s loving demeanor, you don’t seem to remember what you were ever so self-conscious about to begin with.

“Look at how depraved these sad men are.” Shouto clicks his tongue, a voice in his head confirming of what he already long knew. Deep down, he at least assures himself that his former classmates are aware of their place. In which they’re only allowed to look—not touch—and if they so much as plunge into forbidden territory, he’d rise above the waters to bite their heads off. He recognizes this from just a simple inspection of their faces.

Deterring after hearing Shouto’s words, Midoriya’s eyes cast downward to the floor, brows softened with hurt. His expression is burdened upon not only stigma but guilt, lusting after a woman that isn’t even his while allowing the absurd thought he could steal you away from the fire-and-ice hero to ever cross his mind.

Meanwhile, the blonde mulls over in defeat more so than shame. Although never one to yield from a fight, Bakugou had long realized this battle was over before it even began. You were deftly out of his reach. All he can settle for now is the afterimage of your undoing played back in his head, the recording surrounded by a thick cloud of envy.

Shouto reads their compliance clearly—a wordless surrender witnessing your aftermath of pleasure. As a result, a grin surfaces his lips. Unfortunately for them, the sly devil latent inside him is far satiated. Perhaps it’s time to move onto the next course.

His fingers brush along the underside of your chin, leading your half-lidded eyes to him.

“Baby,” he says, and the way he calls to you in that low baritone makes you receptive to his every word, “why don’t you go over there and help our guests get their cocks out of their pants, hm?” You nod slowly, half-wondering if he read your mind during your indecent contemplation. Shouto kisses the corner of your lip before you stand from the futon and saunter toward the two pillars of ice resting in the room.

Your steps are slow and languid, the consistent sway of your hips hypnotizing to both sides. Reaching the two, you lower to your knees, bending forward and offering Shouto a view of your exposed cunt that still drips of your essence. He bites his lip, palming his bulge through his pants until he begins freeing himself of the unnecessary clothing that would have been discarded by now if he wasn’t so absorbed in your climax.

In the meantime, you kneel in front of the top two Pro Heroes, mooning over who to approach first until your red and white-haired boyfriend answers for you.

“Midoriya first. And then Bakugou.”

You can practically feel the fire lighting inside Bakugou at the command, knowing Icy-Hot gives the order in favor of Midoriya just to get under his skin. You do well to ignore his malice by crawling over to the green-haired hero, hovering above his bound form, and meeting his emerald eyes that are wide and fixated on your every move.

The proximity between you two has the air trapped in his lungs. He holds his breath out of fear that if he lets go, you’d vanish into a mirage. But his throat hitches the very moment your fingers trace up the fabric of his pants, disembarking across his thighs and toward his painful erection that twinges at your touch. It’s fortunate enough for him that you don’t disappear and that the sultry look you give him as you drag the zipper of his pants down isn’t a figment of his imagination. You catch a glimpse of his briefs, along with the head of his dick peeking above the waistband, still strained by a single layer of fabric.

Midoriya swears he can cum right then and there when you lightly palm his hardness—the first relieving sensation he’s felt all night before it’s surmounted by you tugging down the waistband. Cock released from its confines, it jumps forward out of excitement before slapping back against his navel. Midoriya hisses at being open to the air, his feverish skin stinging surrounded by the coldness throughout the room.

As you predicted, the Number One’s cock stands stout and protruding red at being neglected for so long. It begs to be touched.

“P-Please…” The whisper is almost inaudible, but you discern the desperation in his tone.

Midoriya’s pleading expression staring down at you nearly sways you to grant pity on him, but you know you’re given no position to do that. So sadly, you move on. The hero laments you leaving so soon, a whine quietly squeaking from him, left with nothing but his length stiff on his abs as you make your way to Kacchan.

Unlike the former, the blonde actually makes an effort to free himself one last time, a struggle you pick up on when you near him. He’s gritting his teeth together, heat slowly radiating off his body stoked by his anger. Yet that somehow all dissipates at a simple glance of your face. There’s a glassiness in your eyes that renders him silent.

His narrowed stare wanders toward your plush lips, looking so damn soft and kissable. If only he could muster the willpower to break free and move forward to capture them in his own, seal them tight so he wouldn’t have to hear Icy-Hot’s name spilling out of them anymore. But your steady gaze on him freezes him into the ice, halting his motions as if you were medusa. He hears nothing but his racing heart palpitating in his chest as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hm, Bakugou’s been a bit of a brat tonight, wouldn’t you say, love? How about you tease him a bit?” Shouto suggests mischievously.

Turning in his direction, you see him sitting on the bedding, naked and stroking his cock listlessly as he waits for you. The sight encourages you back to Bakugou’s erection to finish the task you started, thighs shuffling against each other at a glimpse of your prize between the Number Three hero’s legs.

As if you couldn’t get anymore seductive, you adjust yourself right between the blonde’s spread form, carelessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you bend forward, back arching. Bakugou has no idea what he’s in for, fearing for the worst knowing you plan to tease him. He starts muttering a question that never reaches your ear, the words splintering off when he deftly realizes you’re pulling his pant’s zipper between your fucking teeth. Making sure never to break eye contact with him, you drag the metal down at an excruciating pace, each tooth of the zipper undone so slowly it’s practically torture to him.

“Shit... Y/n…” he groans wantonly as you reach the end of your destination. After being contained all this time, it seems his cock wants to come out with a vengeance. You gasp when it suddenly springs past his briefs, nearly making contact against your cheek.

Bakugou sputters an filthy amount of curses, finding the image of you wincing in shock and glancing up at his thick cock towering next to your face with the tip oozing of his pre-cum to be utterly pornographic. Well if this is truly reminiscent of a porn scene, you’d be wrapping your hands around the base of his cock by now, fisting it before delightfully enveloping the tip in your hot mouth. But the call of your name behind you cracks that fantasy into pieces.

To his dismay, your attention swerves from the embossed vein lining Bakugou’s dick to Shouto’s muscular body, idle on the futon, where he gestures a finger at you. You return to your usual place atop his lap, except this time there’s no longer any barrier of fabric to prevent you two from feeling each other’s heat.

Shouto grazes his hands on your back, humming into your neck. “Well, baby, you saw how hard their cocks were. How does it feel to have the top three pros all craving you at once?”

You pause amidst your reply, the little kisses he brushes on your jugular serving to distract you for a moment. You have to ask yourself if your boyfriend is throwing a trick question at you. Giving it some thought, you decide to tackle it honestly.

“It feels... pretty good,” you murmur, a tad squeamish while he maps the expanse of your neck with his lips. It’s an answer he anticipates according to the next question he follows up.

“But of all the cocks in this room, whose do you want the most?”

“Yours, Sho.” Compared to before, your answer is given promptly. Shouto grins at how eager you are for him. “Only yours.” You affirm one last time, effectively hammering a nail into Midoriya and Bakugou’s chests. Shouto’s hands traverse your waist, then to your thighs, giving your flesh a solid squeeze.

“That’s right, you’re my fucking cock slut and no one else’s.” You almost choke when he lurches forward to grind his erection against your wet core, emphasizing your innate effect on him. Whimpering at the slippery friction of his hardness on your swollen clit, you find yourself moving in tandem with his motions.

“My my, still that needy even after you already squirted all over my fingers? Your pussy is just so so greedy for me, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes... F-Fuck, Sho, please let me put your cock inside me. I want to cum on your cock so much!” you plead, voice rising at every insufficient jerk of your hips. It isn’t enough to just rub your sensitive little pearl against it. You need the thing inside you since yesterday, and you’re more than willing to throw your last fragment of modesty out the window to get it.

Luckily for you, your neediness seems to work in your favor as Shouto has no objections at granting you your pleasure.

“Don’t worry, baby. I told you I’d be driving my cock in and out of you in front of them, didn’t I?” He runs his fingers on the edge of your cheek, admiring the cute desperation readable over your features—eyes glazed, skin hot, and cunt positively dripping. “Of course, I intend to keep that promise. But first…” He lays you two into his favored position, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his thighs. He peers up at you while nestled back on the sheets.

“I suppose since I forced them here, the least we can do is continue giving them something to remember. It is going to be the first and last night they’ll see you like this anyway,” he reasons. The two mentioned pique hearing the statement. You yourself grow considerably hotter, realizing he’s angled you in a way that grants your audience another enticing view of your body above him.

“Well, princess, why don’t you start riding your stallion then?” Shouto incites his request as more of a command than anything else, and you begin earnestly catering to him by lifting your hips. You align his length toward your entrance. His calloused hands spread on your thighs at the anticipation of watching the head of his cock enter your wet heat.

“Ooooh yeah, keep going baby, take it all in,” he encourages through purrs reverberating in his throat. With each inch you swallow between your folds, his expression knits into pure bliss, brows narrowed at how well your tight pussy hugs his cock. He looks up and catches you slowly unraveling before his eyes. You strain to keep yourself together, eyes shut in pleasure at the delicious burn swelling in your stomach.

There’s a stifled noise parting your mouth that hangs open as you gradually envelop him to the shaft. Shouto’s thick cock slowly bottoms inside your walls and makes you feel so complete. While he lets you adjust to his sizable girth, his palms grope your skin, soothing the tense burn churning inside you.

“Mmph…” you whine, hands trying to find some leverage, laying flat on his abs. You give yourself a second, followed by another until the short pain you feel morphs into a delectable buzz.

“I… I’m going to move now, Sho,” you tell him before flitting up and down his long length, progressing tentatively. His heterochromatic eyes are dark and murky, watching his cock glisten in more of your sheen while you glide it into your pussy at a steady tempo. You make sure to take everything offered to you to the fullest, from the tip to base where his balls brush the underside of your ass. Shouto is more than endowed and you don’t ever plan on taking any part of his gift for granted.

“Mm, even after I prepped you, you’re still so tight for me,” Shouto groans, your cunt rippling waves in his body. Despite being consumed in your ministrations, you have to note how sinful he looks below you, sweat shining on his skin and tufts of red and white hair sticking to his forehead. It’s hard to believe a man as handsome as him could be so possessive with you, going through such lengths to prove to his rivals that you only belong to him. But man, do you find it to be hot. The notion once again has your cunt clenching considerably.

“It’s because—ah—you’re so th-thick,” you tell him, and in turn, he gives you a devilish smirk that adds fuel to the fire lighting in your abdomen. Before you can conjure another thought, he suddenly thrusts his hips up to meet yours, reaching a particular spongy spot that causes you to cry out.

“Why don’t we increase the pace then? Ride me faster, love. I want you to cum hard on my cock in front of them.”

Oh boy, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You swiftly nod, gathering some ardor in your thighs that helps you bounce more fervently on top of him. What was once subtle claps chiming in the room escalates into a concert of skins slapping against each other. Gripping your hips, Shouto meets every heavy drop with a firm thrust upward, continuing to reach the same place that induces heaven across your entire body.

Your moans are uncontained now, flittering out at how good Shouto’s cock is making you feel. The sounds are beyond intoxicating to him, like a midnight song he could get drunk on and gladly switch to repeat.

Every slam into your spread pussy steals your words away while reducing him to hissing between his teeth, your folds enshrouding him with unimaginable euphoria that has his onlookers glaring in envy.

The sight is one that Midoriya and Bakugou will surely replay throughout their wistful days after tonight. Your breasts swaying in time with your sloppy movements is a marvel to gawk at as the two implant your glazed body bouncing atop Shouto into their memories, their deluded imaginations going to work at inserting themselves into the fray.

Your hips plunging in sync at each surge of Sho’s cock has stars twinkling across your bleary vision, eyes rolling in the back of your skull. His cock penetrates you in ways no one else could, brimming your body with sublime rapture that you relay honestly in your wails.

“Fuck, you feel so good—” Shouto mutters his praises. He effortlessly keeps up his drilling and angles himself perfectly so the tip reaches your erogenous zone throughout. His hands are digging so deep into your skin, you have no doubt your hips will be daubed purple by the end of the night.

Sweat thoroughly coating his body, his aggressive rutting into your velvet walls has his cock twitching inside you. He recognizes you’re nearing your climax as well when you slowly grip him like a vise. “Gonna milk me, love? Squeeze all the cum out of me and into that slutty pussy of yours?” He asks the question through grunts he spits between his teeth, the sounds coming out on the cusp of feral growls. He’s amused by how your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you try to form any kind of response. The rampant motions make it hard for you to grasp any sense of reality other than the sensations that collide your nerves.

“Y-yes, yes! I’m so close, Sho— Please—!” The moment you have a hand on your wheel of cognition, you start begging like it’s second nature, uncaring of the other two in the room as tears dot the edges of your lashes for relief. And how is Shouto to deny you when you’re playing such a lewd act?

“Need it so bad, n-need to cum— Ah—!”

In the very next second, your body dives to where your back forcibly lands snug on the futon, choking your words to a startling puff. Shouto shadows over you, leering down like he’s sizing his prey one last time before going in for the kill.

“Hm, since you’re begging so nicely for me, I’ll gladly help you reach your bliss, baby,” he says, tongue running along his bottom lip before he resumes driving into your pussy.

He hooks his hands beneath your knees to spread you apart further, giving his cock no repercussions on pistoning forward at unbridled speeds. Your fingers delve into the sheets, gripping the cloth like it’s your lifeline. You feel your lower body slightly lifting off the bedding due to Shouto wanting you two impossibly closer, cock thundering against you.

What you’ve yet to realize—trapped within your tornado of ecstasy—is your spectators freeing themselves from the ice, glaciers reduced to pieces at their powers. The whole exhibition had been too much for them to handle, quite literally snapping their restraints. Their clothes are gone within a flash, articles of them thrown half-hazardly on the floor. It leaves nothing to stop them from finally granting some form of bliss on their neglected cocks, fisting their lengths in conjunction with your symphony of moans.

That aside, they don’t matter to you at this moment. All you have eyes for is the man above you, whose heterochromatic gaze returns your shared adoration with equal fervor, if not more so.

“Well, love, you wanna cum, right? Then you know what to do,” Shouto grunts, lowering his torso so he can close a bit of the distance between your faces, “Tell me, who’s making you feel this fucking good right now?”

Brain a scrambled mess, you’re thankful the answer you scrounge for is a simple one.

“You, Shouto! Unnf, it’s your cock that’s making me feel good!” you exclaim, your back bowing off the bed when you perceive the coil tight in your abdomen nearly about to break. Your wanton reply has him sending his satisfaction back tenfold into you through the expert rocking of his hips.

“Yesyesyes, oh fuck— Y/n, cum all over my cock! Let go, baby!”

You scream the moment the order is given, Shouto slamming into your g-spot the impetus you need to come undone in violent spasms. Firecrackers spark beneath your skin at the ecstasy hitting your every nerve. Seeing you reach the apex of your high—eyes lidded and limbs trembling as you throw your entire body into the sheets—encourages Shouto toward his release, pumping himself in and out of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck! Y/n!” he pants raggedly before snapping his hips in place, dick twitching inside you. A gasp rips your throat as you feel his thick ribbons of white cum fill you to the brim. Shouto remains inside you for a good minute longer, hovering over your sluggish, sweaty body to seize your lips in his while you two slowly descend from heaven. You move sweetly and slowly against him, savoring the moment in the presence of his tender loving.

Meanwhile, Midoriya and Bakugou have already blown their loads all over themselves, creamy spurts painting their skin. They lean back to find their groundings, unable to even speak after what was surely an excruciating event for them both.

You’re still unsure how to go about confronting the aftermath of it all, deciding to only imbed your eyes onto Shouto due to the embarrassment that starts simmering in your mind now that you’ve come down from your highs. Your fingers rise to swipe a few stray strains of damp red-and-white hair off your boyfriend’s forehead, murmuring something kept between the two of you.

“Going through all of this just because you were jealous? You sure are insatiable, Sho.”

He chuckles at the jest behind your words, giving the other Pro Heroes a once over before he comes back to you with a satisfied grin plastered on his face, making you question whether his devilish tendencies have truly left him after tonight.

“What can I say? I guess I just want to monopolize you, baby.”

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha smut #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha imagine #bnha fic #todoroki fic #todoroki imagine #tw coercion

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Brilliant Plan [Anthony Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Brilliant plan Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 3.3k Published: 10 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Bridgerton fic, please don’t be too hard on me :) Summary: Even as a new debutante you have your eyes on the eldest Bridgerton, Anthony and it seems he is just as interested in you. That is until he halts your relationship in the courting period, leaving you confused.

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You stood in front of the enormous, wooden doors leading you to the unknown. As one of the new debutantes of the season, you felt slightly pressured and nervous. It’s been an endless waiting game, or so it felt like one, but now that you stood in front of the entrance of your future, every little problem you ever had felt mediocre.

Taking a couple of deep breaths seemed to calm your nerves, but as soon as your mother placed her hand on your shoulder, all your worries came back at once. The event has been one that you have been waiting for eagerly, you were happy to be a part of such an elite society, but no one prepared you for the mental battle you were going to be having deep inside you.

“Shall we wait and take a seat, dear?” your mother interrupted your chaotic thoughts, gesturing towards a golden bench outside of the ballroom. A voice within you screamed for those additional seconds away from your grand entrance, but instead you shook your head.

“No, mama, let’s head inside,” a small, phoney smile spread across your face. Your mother nodded in agreement and gently nudged your back as if wanting to help you to take the first step.

As the gigantic doors opened, your gaze fell on the sea of people dancing in the middle of the room, each wearing their finest attires of the most expensive materials with the shiniest jewelleries. You felt slightly out of place even though you were just as stunning as anyone in the room.

First step, second step, it took a couple of them to finally make yourself present and when you finally felt more comfortable walking into the room, you felt as if hundreds of eyes watched every step of yours, making you feel self-conscious once again. It was scary to feel all those eager eyes on you, but after an inner monologue, you finally lifted your head high, straightened your back and forced a small smile across your face.

As you looked around you recognised quite a few people, for instance the Bridgerton sisters, Daphne and Eloise who were although younger than you, had found a dear friend in you, someone they could turn to if needed. Gazing around the room you found the Featherington sisters who you only knew through the annual dinners your family organised.

You were older than the usual debutantes as your mother wanted you to be highly educated before marrying you off. Although you couldn’t wait to be a part of these high society gatherings, you understood that your mother didn’t want you to marry just anyone.

Finally, the curious gazes felt less intimidating and as Daphne walked up to you, you greeted each other with a smile. “I thought you’d never join us,” she joked with you, but you just shook your head with the least lady-like laughter.

“I couldn’t have deprived you from my company. I’m delightful,” you chuckled at your own joke. Your mother placed her hand on your shoulder excusing herself as she headed off to the opposite direction.

“Are you excited?” Daphne asked with an innocent, but enthusiastic smile painted across her face.

“I have been waiting for it for quite a while. Of course, I’m excited,” you replied giggling.

“Shall we find you a husband then?” she chuckled joyfully. You cleared your throat, feeling slightly awkward, but Daphne wasn’t silly nor was she naïve. She immediately understood that her question made you feel slightly uncomfortable. “Do you not want to?”

“Daph, I really wanted to be a part of these gorgeous balls and chatting away with people throughout the evening, however I can’t picture myself getting married just yet,” you offered her a pleading look, hoping she would understand you.

Of course, it was a dream of yours to finally start attending these balls, but there was a reason or two for your hesitancy. You didn’t feel ready to marry anyone, especially not if you didn’t love your significant other, on the other hand, you already had your eyes on someone. Someone who was closer to Daphne than she could ever imagine.

“Sister, I have been looking for you,” his voice made you shiver, tiny goosebumps revealing themselves on the surface of your skin. His slightly messy brown hair and curious brown eyes wandered up and down on you, studying every inch of your body shamelessly as he joined beside Daphne, making you feel flustered under his intense gaze. “I don’t think we have met before,” he spoke to you finally, for the first time ever, reaching for your hand to leave a soft kiss on your silky gloves as you formally introduce yourself. “What a beautiful name,” he smiled confidently, a trait that seemed to radiate through his whole presence, almost knocking you over.

“Interestingly we have met before,” you added, trying to avert the subject, before you felt overwhelmed by a simple compliment to your name, which your parents decided on and basically had nothing to do with you. “But then you always seem busy when I visit,” the confusion across his face was evident, trying to organise the little pieces of the puzzle he seemed to be missing.

“My apologise, I don’t seem to remember and I’m sure I would have remembered such a pretty sight” he shook his head with a smile that sent your heart into overdrive. His words made you feel 20 pounds lighter, but instead of letting the compliment get to you, offering him a small smile, you continued the conversation confidently.

“Don’t you worry about it.I usually only catch a glimpse of you as I pass through the hall,” you lied. In reality you caught yourself not once staring at the man as he worked in his office and your steps halted just in the right spot to take a moment to admire his handsome features.

“I’m certainly glad to have officially met you,” he replied with a proud smirk across his face, leaving you gazing at him for a moment longer than it was deemed appropriate. The moment was quickly interrupted by Daphne who seemed to feel slightly out of place, but before she could have said anything, Benedict joined your circle, quickly dragging Anthony away who endlessly apologised, before following his brother.

“Hmm,” you heard Daphne, slightly lost in her thoughts. “And so, she said no to marriage,” she stated with a wicked smile.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked furrowing in confusion.

“I might be younger, but I’m not an idiot. I saw the way you looked at my dear brother,” she watched you eagerly with a sceptical gaze.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” you replied casually, trying to disguise your embarrassment, which only confirmed Daphne’s suspicion.

“If that makes you feel better, I would gladly be your sister-in-law,” she chuckled loudly at the astonished expression on your face.

“Daphne!” you tried to scold her, but deep down you were imagining a future with the eldest Bridgerton, shamelessly planning each and every single detail of your shared life.

Throughout the evening you have caught Anthony’s eyes on you not once, shamelessly watching you as you danced with the most eligible men of the evening. You wished he was to ask you to dance with him, but he never attempted. He forgot his eyes on you at all times, making you feel as if you were a unique jewellery, one that everyone admired, but when it came to actions, he has taken none.

You walked out to the terrace with a glass of champagne in hand, watching the dark blue, night sky covered in a sea of stars. It was a beautiful evening, although slightly colder than you initially expected. Gently rubbing your skin, you tried to get rid of the small goosebumps that started spreading all over your body. You knew it would have been smarter to go back inside, but it was a slightly suffocating feeling, smiling at everyone, dancing with every other person. Whilst you enjoyed it, it was certainly exhausting.

Feeling two cold hands on each side of your arms, you jumped in the least lady-like manner, before they were replaced by a warm material. “You scared me,” you breathed, holding your hand in front of your chest, before you pulled the two sides of Anthony’s tuxedo coat together, enjoying the warmness engulfing you. “Thank you, you shouldn’t have-,” however before you could have finished your sentence, he interrupted you.

“I still don’t understand how I didn’t see you,” he spoke as he leaned against the terrace fence, gazing up at the sky. The confusion across his face earned a small smile from you as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front of you,” you replied as he turned around, watching your hand rest on his shoulder, before you quickly removed it, hoping he didn’t think you meant to be disrespectful. However, the playful grin playing in the corner of his lips reassured you, making you smile just as well.

From that night there wasn’t a day you didn’t meet in his house or he didn’t come over to yours with an excuse, even though he needed none, your mother was delighted to see the Viscount in her house. Although he didn’t make it official that he was courting you, it was a known fact. He had his eyes on you and he made sure everyone knew of his unspoken intentions.

But Anthony was also a man of freedom. He had to take over the Bridgerton household, he had no place to object, but the freedom he practiced in his personal life was a necessity. You thought your relationship was going in the right direction as he courted you and you accepted his advances. However, after months he seemed as if he still had no intention of proposing to you, whilst he still kept other men as far away as he could from you.

You were tired of waiting. You didn’t want to marry just yet, but you have been waiting for his proposal for the longest of time and his indecisive manners made you doubt his intentions. Of course, you voiced your concerns to Daphne, who concocted a brilliant plan to make his brother jealous. Or so you thought it was brilliant.

As the next ball came and you walked inside the room with an innocent smile, dressed as beautifully as never before, many men gazed at your beauty, lips parting in astonishment. Surely, you enjoyed the attention, especially the one whose eyes seemed to burn holes into your body. But you didn’t look at him. You decided that if he couldn’t take your relationship a step further, then you would pay no attention to him.

“Miss, would you like to dance?” you heard from behind you as Benedict appeared in your vision with a mischievous smile. Although you were aware of Daphne’s plan, she was very secretive about the details.

“Daphne, isn’t it?” you asked, chuckling.

“Let’s just say I had no objection as soon as I heard that there was a way to irritate my brother,” he smirked proudly.

“Is this some twisted way to show your love towards your brother?” you asked, giggling as you felt Anthony’s eager eyes on you.

“I just enjoy seeing him sulking,” he shrugged carelessly.

“I take no responsibilities for any consequences,” you pointed your index finger at him with a mocking seriousness.

“Don’t you worry, miss,” he chuckled as he took your hand in his and led you to the dance floor. Eager eyes watched the pair of you, amazed by the bravery Benedict showed, even though everyone was aware of Anthony’s interest in you.

“If eyes could kill, I would drop dead at this moment,” he laughed, taking a peek at his brother as he led you around the circle, the quartet playing a rather slow song.

“I certainly feel daggers piercing through my back,” you snickered at the absurd situation.

“My brother means well, he is just an idiot,” he added.

“I wish I could object. I mean against the idiocy, of course,” you replied casually earning a heartfelt laughter from Benedict.

“Surely, he will open his eyes now,” he tried to reassure you which earned a sceptical look from you.

“I thought we had just established that he was an idiot,” you raised a questioning brow.

“I certainly think they are mutually inclusive,” he scoffed, earning an eye roll from you.

As the song stopped, Anthony walked up to you with a stern look and serious expression painted across his face, holding his hand out to you. You raised a questioning brow, before you placed your hand in his, letting him take you into the sea of people.

“What was that all about?” he asked as he pulled your body flash against him, his chest pressing against yours. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness, his proximity clouding your mind. You could feel your body move to the rhythm of the music, but it didn’t register in your head.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathed, completely engulfed in his scent.

“Why were you dancing with my brother?” he asked in a stern voice, pulling you out of the mist covering your mind. You certainly didn’t like his tone, nor did you like the way he looked at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You never ask me to dance with you nor am I engaged to you. I can dance whomever I would like to,” you replied with a straight face, hiding all your emotions.

“You know how important you are to me. Don’t play such games with my brother,” he hissed in frustration.

“Would you like me to play it with someone else?” you asked, feeling as if you were playing with fire, waiting for the moment he’d had enough.

“You very well know that’s not what I meant. You know of my feelings for you,” he groaned in anger, feeling useless, unable to find how to solve this problem.

“Do I? Have you ever expressed them clearly? As far as I know, we are just a man and woman in a close friendship,” you shrugged as the song finished and tried to pull away from him. However, he didn’t let you.

“There is no friendship between women and men,” he replied, clearly dissatisfied with your answer.

“We are acquaintances then,” you scoffed as you removed his hand from your waist and turned around, walking away from him. It felt as if your lungs were about to explode, as if you couldn’t breathe. The fact that he dared to say he had feelings for you when he clearly chose his freedom over you made you feel more upset than you wished to be.

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice as you headed towards the exit, trying to get some air into your lungs. “Where the hell are you going?” he tried again, his tone more frustrated this time.

“None of your business, Bridgerton,” you hissed in anger.

“B-Bridgerton?” he questioned, slightly stuttering, clearly astonished by your choice of name.

“That’s your name,” you replied with a groan as you headed down the stairs, grasping the side of your dress as the chilly weather hit your warm skin unexpectedly.

“Just stop for a second and let’s talk,” he attempted to catch your wrist, but you pulled it away just in time.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Bridgerton. You are the last person I want to see,” you scoffed.

“Surely, that’s not true,” he argued.

“You had months to talk to me, don’t come looking for me now,” you replied, but before you could have comprehended what was happening, Anthony got hold of your wrist and dragged you behind the building, away from the praying eyes, closing your escape route with his palms against the wall on each side of yours.

None of you spoke up, both of you studied one another as if waiting for what the other would say. You had the time to admire his handsome features, his messy hair that resembled more of a bird's nest as the wind blew it in all kinds of directions in his hurried steps.

“Why did you do this?” he asked, his tone finally calm and collected.

“I wanted to see your reaction,” you confessed, not even feeling guilty.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he frowned at your words.

“I thought there was something between you and me. I thought it was more than a friendship. I honestly believed you felt more. But you never attempted to talk about the future, you never wanted to discuss marriage, you never even mentioned wanting a family. I was certain that you would never look at me as a lady. I would always just be a friend,” you scoffed with a small, pained smile in the corner of your lips.

“What are you talking about?” his confusion sat clearly across his face. “I always tell you how madly I miss you when I can’t be around you. I keep saying how I wish to be near you more often. I couldn’t be clearer about my intentions,”

“You see, it’s still not clear to me. What are your intentions exactly?” you asked, cruelly ignoring his previous words.

“Surely, you understand,” he scoffed in disbelief.

“No, I don’t,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I- I just,” the stuttering mess he has become gave you the answer to your questions.

“You see, Bridgerton, you can’t even get yourself to say it,” you heaved a deep sigh and pushed his arm away from the brick wall, heading back towards the entrance. However, before you could have taken another step, he caught your wrist and pulled you back against the wall, his body pressing against you, the cold bricks making you shiver. You could feel his breath on your lips, one of his hands on your waist. You have heard so much about that first kiss and even though you knew it was wrong, that it shouldn’t happen, you waited in utter anticipation.

Anthony tried to control himself, knowing how important you were to him, but the proximity between you clouded his mind as he abruptly closed the gap between you, attaching his lips to yours, hungrily exploring the new territory.

It was wrong, so wrong, but the moment was bittersweet. The kiss was sweet and passionate, one you couldn’t even imagine in your wildest of dreams and you couldn’t even care about the consequences if anyone saw you.

The shock across his face as pulled away from you scared you for a mere second. “I sincerely apologise, I have no idea what came over me,” he tried to take a step back, but you got hold of his arm.

“Why did you kiss me?” you asked, still under the influence of his actions.

“Because I love you. Because I wish to marry you. I want you to be my wife,” he breathed in a sudden confidence. You gently slapped your hands against your lips, his words surprising you, making you feel as if it was a dream.

A small smile spread across your face. “You do?” you asked, uncertainty lacing your voice.

“I would like nothing more,” he rushed to add.

“Is that a proposal?” you asked, chuckling, but what came next was something you didn’t expect.

He dropped down on one knee, pulling a tiny, blue box out of his pocket, opening the lid as he looked up at you, admiring your astonished expression. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?” he asked, his eyes full of hope.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you shouted excitedly, jumping in his neck, engulfing him in a hug, his broad shoulders barely fitting your embrace.

“Thank you,” he chuckled happily as he placed the ring on your finger, not expecting the quick peck you placed on his lips in the process. He stood up, wrapping his arms around your waist, before he lifted you up from the ground and spun you around with a happy laughter.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

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#Anthony Bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x Reader #Anthony Bridgerton x reader fanfiction #Anthony Bridgerton x Reader oneshot #Anthony Bridgerton x reader imagine #Bridgerton x Reader #Bridgerton oneshot #Bridgerton imagine #Bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton #Eloise Bridgerton #Daphne Bridgerton #Bridgerton

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onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

Hopeless - Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

◙warnings: female reader. mutual pining. a sprinkle of sexuality struggles. fingering, eating pussy, face sitting. fluffy, wholesome. SMUT.

◙word count: 3.9k

◙summary: You like Mikasa but you’re struggling a bit to come to that realization, and now you struggle to confess. But confessing goes really well.

You didn't mean for it to go like this. You feel hopeless. It started with curious touches in the shower after grueling missions and massages after training, gentle caresses whenever she looked worried. You didn't even realize it started to be more until Jean started teasing you about liking her. You were confused but now you had to confront something about yourself that you never have before.

But if it's true… it makes sense. You never really showed much interest in the boys of the village and whenever one tried to flirt with you, you'd clap your hand on their back and compliment them, completely oblivious of their affections. And whenever girls would set flower crowns on your head it would make your heart flutter, and your best friend as a kid that let hands wander in the barn before dinner. You tucked it away deep within yourself. The memories and the mental struggles of trying to figure it out. Who has the time when you are trying to become a scout and kill titans and avoid being killed by said titans?

Did her sharing food with you and no one else mean something? Did her waiting to go to the showers with you mean anything? What about when you two trained with each other to the point of exhaustion, laying beside each other out of breath with the evening air trying its best to cool your heated skin. Yes, you worried for her yes, you cared but was it romantic?

You dig hard into your brain trying out different scenarios in your head trying to figure it out.

People go on dates, get food, and sometimes coffee, but you've done that with her before. Her favorite coffee is a lavender latte because she doesn't like the bitterness as much as you'd think, and lavender reminds her of Eren's mother, and she likes the apples from the stall closest to the alley by the inn because they're the juiciest and the vendor is the nicest old lady.

Well, people who date also hold hands, and you've done that before too, dragging her through the city on a momentary day off or after missions when things got particularly gorey even on missions riding in a carriage to your destination you'd grasp your hand around hers and squeeze to let her know that you are there and you are there for her.

She cared for you too. You know it, now, comparing what she did with everyone else to how she treats you. How she teased Sasha but gave you her leftover bread, how whenever Jean and Eren brawl she puts some sort of barrier between you and them just in case, even though she knows you know how to handle yourself. The little glances of confirmation that you are eating, you’re still there. When she helped you in the shower after hurting your leg on that one mission. The tension in the air was thick but it wasn’t exclusively sexual, intimate and intense as she helped you wash off the day’s grime and massage the soap around your shoulders and thighs. Circling soap around your thighs and hips and when she would help you stand she would ignore your shy demeanor for the sake of your comfort. Maybe that’s when you should have confronted this part of you but you’ve refused and pushed it away all this time why not some more? You’ve knocked it down every time it peaks its glaring head.

And then the dreams came.

What you've seen in the shower pieces itself together in unholy ways while you sleep. You still can feel her hands on your body from when she helped you. The interesting positions you would end up in while training with her fueled the dreams as well. The muscles she dutifully keeps up with straining for you, her calloused hands on your body, her grey eyes peeking at you from between your legs. Other Nights you would be on top of her, making her bite at her lips trying to keep her moans at bay. Almost every morning you can't look at her when you wake up because it's still so vivid. She'd paint mosaics in your skin with her tongue and you feel like you finally understand what those worshippers of the walls feel because you would do anything for her, worship her, keep all her secrets and demand her safety. You've had dreams like this before, one with Annie when you were training that terrified you more than Annie herself. Or those times when you stayed in an inn above a bar and the owner's daughter with brunette hair would flirt with you every chance she got.

But dreams of this intensity, this frequency? Never. It's disturbing your daily life and you are hopeless. Hopelessly head over heels with a woman you can only read into so much. She is not an open book but you've seen a few pages and it's enough to have you hooked on the series. This time you can't push it down, or away into the deepest wrinkles of your brain. Your attraction for her is branded into your temporal lobe burning through your skull and it's this close to being shown on your forehead. Now the food she shares, the concern she shows, you fear you're reading too deep into her actions. After she asks Eren if he's okay then it's you and no one else. Every time you speak with her it feels like the sun has hit your skin even when it's nighttime. Everybody else sees it, everybody else knows vaguely what is going on, except Eren and Mikasa it seems. Eren because he's too thick in the head to even understand what's going on between you and Mikasa and Mikasa because… well you don't know. Maybe she's gained Erens obliviousness over the years or maybe she just doesn't get whatever the fuck romance is or consists of or maybe she does get it but doesn't let on that she does. Jean had to get over his crush on Mikasa because at least he can see how she cared for you, which you feel bad for because he probably has a higher chance than you. There are nights where the trouble realizations you've pushed away come back to crush you during the deep hours of the night when you're supposed to be asleep. You are glad you can cry quietly those nights but sometimes you can't and that's when Sasha spares you words to curl at your side as you sob into her shoulder. You don't speak of it the next morning, neither of you do, and you blame the irritation of the white of your eyes on bad sleep and sometimes allergies if you're lucky.

When it comes for the time of one of the riskiest missions, worry stringing through the air and through everyone's veins, seeping into dreams of the following nights, your struggling sexuality starts to simmer down with the rise of realization that your friends and Mikasa have chances of not coming back alive. But you're realistic, you aren't as powerful as Mikasa and she's almost at the skill level of Levi. You might die never telling her, or confronting yourself, and you think that might be your only regret if you drop dead right in this moment. A night before the mission and Jean nudges you with a solemn expression. You already know what he's alluding to, so you just nod at him. You don't want to talk about it or speak it aloud in general. He just thinks you are hopeless at this point. If you talk about it aloud it feels like you would just jinx yourself and you convince yourself that's partially the reason why you haven't said anything yet.

You see her with her short cut hair, looking so firm but so worried. Probably for Eren, and everybody, and the possible results of said mission. The overbearing threat of death doesn't make for bright moods.

So you don't do it. You don't confess. You abandon your mental script for now of what you were going to say. You needed a spark to get the fire going. To gain the courage to pour your heart out and how can you get this spark in such damp air?

Jean and Sasha give you a pitiful look before they get on their horses because they just know. Again, you're hopeless. The air around you and Mikasa is painfully consistent, the same as before and you look like you haven't slept in years. Levi has already scolded you for looking like shit, you don't need them on your ass as well so they don't say anything.

You are glad the mission is coming to an exhausting end. Your closest friends aren't hurt besides sore muscles and scratches and most importantly, Mikasa is in good shape. It's amazing what near-death experiences can do, and finally, the spark you were waiting for has been found, you've found the flint and steel to create it. Now, to actually figure out where to start that fire.

Turns out your chance is the day after you get back from the previous mission. A celebration dying down in the dining hall, your friends stumbling around like happy drunks as they should. You aren't drunk but the drinks you have had throughout the night make your chest heat up and your only thought is "now or never." Mikasa, sitting outside, alone and strikingly sober, looks like a stone statue carved by the gods with her sleeves rolled of her button-up rolled to her elbows. It's chilly outside but comfortable on your warm skin and part of you fears to disturb her, as if you're disturbing an artist's focus on their painting or a baker with their bread and you would ruin the process.

But the continuous chant of "now or never" continues like a hymn and you can't ignore it, or push it down. Sitting next to her isn't the nerve-wracking part, it's when you look into her eyes and now most of your pre-made script is thrown out the window and your heart is stuck in your throat. There are already tears swimming at your eye line but you've waited long enough to do this, you've sat in your own puddle of woes long enough.

She regards you with a hum and a twitch of her thin eyebrow because she can see the glossiness in your eyes. You're a soldier goddamnit but this seems scarier than fighting titans or other humans.

"I need-" You choke for a moment but continue, "I need to tell you something and I need you to listen." At least the beginning of your mental script has come in handy but the middle becomes muddled in your emotion-filled brain. She's nodding and scooting closer which encourages you to at least keep speaking, "if this doesn't apply pretend I never said anything okay?" It is rhetorical and much more of a demand than a question but she nods with a simple "okay," as you continue.

"Do you have room in your heart to love me?" Why did you have to phrase it like that? There were so many more options you could have chosen from but you said this one. It makes her sound so cold-hearted, but at least you won't make her choose, if she has room in her heart to love you, you just hope you can fill it. She looks at you with your quivering lip, hands clenching the table harshly to keep you grounded.

Mikasa is deliberating in her head. She knew to an extent how far her affections stretch for you, further than where Eren stands for sure. She didn't need to debate her own attractions as you have, it became very simple. She likes who she likes, it doesn't matter what they look like, as long as she deems them good and starts to think of them romantically. Ever since seeing you in training, and fighting along your side against titans, seeing you care for your peers so sweetly, she's held a special place in her heart for you. She's heard you cry at night and it pulled at her heart, tempted her to slide into your bed and hold you, but Sasha did that instead. Mikasa has felt a bit hopeless this whole time but now- She's been biting at her lip this whole time and the light taste of iron pulls her back to reality because she needs to answer before your tears fall. Something quick, simple, and to the point-

"I do love you," her own lip shakes a bit. Admittedly, she's surprised that so much emotion is pulled between the two of you. She would daydream about you two laying in the grass, casually confessing and falling into each other so easily like you always have, during fighting or strategy planning. She rests her hand to the side of your face, thumb wiping the stray tears as you let out a relieved sob. Pulling you to her, resting her hand on the back of your head, and shoving your face into her neck, you accept willingly. Mikasa doesn't know how to comfort, but she hopes you can feel her trying. It looks like you've been struggling because this obviously isn't just the remnants of alcohol in your system and she wishes she could have helped you earlier. Wishes she did crawl into your bunk when you cried. She can't help but shed some tears, out of sympathy, out of a relief that maybe now you don't need to hurt anymore, and now she can actually participate in your affections for her instead of pining like she usually does.

Your tears sting your lips but it's nothing compared to the emotional euphoria you are feeling. A feeling you only could describe as FINALLY. She pulls you to her face, pressing her lips into yours and you never imagined your first kiss with Mikasa would be a teary one. She tastes like iron from her bitten lips and you are sure the tears sticking to your own sting. Your teeth clank together a few times, letting out a few breathless chuckles. Both of you barely have experience in this field, but you fall into the paces of caressing each other easily. Maybe you two shouldn't be touching each other like this, right now after you've confessed. You're still outside, anybody could see but she's dragging you to her room which seems only a few paces away. There really isn't time to think, you're still riding this emotional euphoric wave and so is she. Maybe if she took a moment to think and not just take you to her bed right away then she would stop but Mikasa doesn't actually want to think logically right now. She has pined silently long enough, maybe she deserves to give into this. These temptations with the little voice nagging at the back of her mind that "wouldn't she look so good bent over the table right now? What about you pulling her to sit between your thighs to-"

You two bump into a tipsy Sasha on the way but the look in Mikasa's eye makes her shut her mouth and get out of the way quickly. You can hear her scurry off and yell-whisper something to someone but that doesn't quite matter right now because the woman you've been craving since the start is pulling you to her bottom bunk bed to sit on top of her. That script you've forgotten definitely did not include this, but you aren't complaining.

She's grasping at your hips, groping at whatever she can to keep you close and you're doing your own damage. Digging your fingertips into her muscles and chest, rolling your hips into her thigh that rubs just the right spot along the seam of your pants. You aren't exactly being soft but based on her little moans and grunts in between your kisses you think that she probably likes your roughness. Though you do like her in a white button-up she looks better without it, granted she feels exposed but making it even is easy when you're so willing to be stripped by her. You can't help but wish you could touch her chest a little longer because her cheeks only darken more and more every time you tweak her nipples and suck dark maroon marks into her chest, her reactions are priceless. She's pulled you to her, chest to chest to suck at your neck, biting against your skin leaving a kiss after each nip that makes your skin hot. Eventually, she pushes you back to fall into the bed and yanks your pants off as quick as she could manage leaving your thighs to frame her shoulders, knees almost to your chest. It's highly humiliating, she's staring at you from between your legs, and the eye contact from earlier when you were confessing that you thought was nerve-wracking compares nothing to the look she's giving you now, glancing between your eyes and your cunt.

She's devouring you, liking stripes along your folds as you roll your hips into her mouth. The echoing of footsteps along wood makes you freeze and bite the back of your hand to your mouth to stay quiet but Mikasa doesn't stop. Her actions make your thighs clench around her head and she's gripping your thighs while she eats you out mercilessly. You're glad the footsteps leave, or at least you hope they have but your attention is solely on Mikasa and her fingers are working their way into you, twisting at all the right spots. You're both clumsy and inexperienced but everything just feels good, simply wonderful, both of you completely content with each other in this moment as you try to grip at her smooth hair. A climax slowly approaching like a steady march along your belly with her tongue flicking along your clit-

Regrettably, she pulls back, your slick covering her lips and chin, even her nose. She leans over you, brings your lips together once more and she tastes like you, so embarrassingly slick and almost flavorless but so undeniably you. Her fingers are still working inside you and her palm is rubbing against your clit messily, not as precise and erotic as her tongue but it still makes you clench around her nonetheless. It leaves you gasping, "Where-" another slick kiss, "where did you learn this-" one more. She pulls back to sit on her calves and sends you an almost smile, "I'm a woman too," as if that could satisfy the question but she continues, "touching myself to the thought of you gives me at least a bit of experience." Oh. Oh. She said that so bluntly and you bet she did it on purpose just to fluster you and it's succeeding.

But seriously, her fingers are making your eyes roll back in your head and she's hitting the most sensitive patches in your cunt that make your mind go fuzzy so you can't focus at all. She eats your moans and sweet little half pleas she's cut off with kisses and by the time your climax finally reaches you, you accidentally bite her lip as your walls clench around her fingers sporadically. Her lips were already raw with her nervous tick but with you biting, it feels different and entirely refreshing. There are tears clinging to your eyelashes left from your orgasm and she sits back to watch your chest heave and suck your cum off her fingers loudly.

Mikasa really is a devil, but who are you to not give in to her, to try to make her feel good as well? There's still adrenaline from your climax running through your veins so you'll use what's left to get her off, it's the least you could do. Part of it is entirely self-indulgent though, to watch her fall apart from your hands.

"Sit on my face," it shocks her a bit but she won't deny that this is something she wants to indulge herself in, so she sets her thighs on each side of your head with her hand braced against the bottom of the bunk above her. She has to tilt her head a bit awkwardly but she's a bit more focused on how you're spreading her wet cunt out and lapping at her clit to care. It's horribly loud because her cunts been drenched since she started kissing you. Her hands grasping at your sides to keep steady, muscles flexing and thighs shivering it all feels like too much. She curled her fingers like this, and maybe it's a universal trick because she tightens and gasps. Not loud, Mikasa never is but the soft mewls she lets out are worth the work, grinding down into your mouth. Flattening your tongue against her and your wrist is twisted in a weird way to keep thrusting into her, continuously curling, and she's so close to falling apart above you. Her hand grips the board of the bunk above her so hard it cracks and she falls apart on your tongue with a gasping groan and one last roll of her hips.

The realization that you're her arms, that she loves you back hovers over you again and it makes the night so much sweeter. But you both really need a shower and your eyes are already drooping, begging for some sleep.

When the rest of the girls finally make their way back to their beds they have to do a triple take of Mikasa's bed because both of you are intertwined with each other under the sheets, dead asleep with her hair still slightly damp from the shower. As much as Sasha wants to coo at you two she can't help but remember the scary look in Mikasa's eyes when they crashed earlier, so she lets the feeling of happiness for her friends wash over her silently. By the next morning, both of you are late for breakfast, and Jean is starting at the two of you as you both eat.

"So… you two finally find out you were in love with each other this whole time?" Mikasa flushes up to her ears and you freeze up like a deer in headlights. Silence.. until Sasha leans over and whispers all too loud, "They fucked. You could smell it in the room," and a spoon makes contact with her forehead almost making her blackout. Jean goes completely red and Eren stutters out incomprehensible sentences mostly involving "what's going on? What they're dating? You liked her? Mikasa why didn't you tell me-" No one feels like updating him so they just let him ramble. Connie is a bit red too, "so yall are actually dating?" It makes your heart beat faster than you expected. You love your friends you know they wouldn’t be ignorant or mean but still, the worry pulls in the back of your head.

Well, you two really didn't talk about dating after you confessed, and- well that part of the dynamic didn't really cross your mind until now. Mikasa grips your thigh under the table, "She's my girlfriend," she says so loud and clear you could hear it across the dining hall, laced with a bit of possessiveness. Just barely you can hear Levi scoff out a "They're hopeless."

You guess you are, but at least you are hopeless with her. And after all this time, your struggles are put to rest deep in the back of your mind to stay for good.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

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happylittledrabbles · 3 years

Text

Like a Virgin

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Erwin Smith

Rating: 18+ (DNI IF A MINOR)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 9K

AO3

—

Levi is very sexually frustrated from all of Erwin's wandering touches and wants to know for sure whether Erwin is into him or not. He questions the commander on if he has a woman he wants to have sex with, and Erwin doesn't reply. That's the moment Levi finds out Erwin is a virgin. He proposes to "help" Erwin learn how to have sex before he goes on to have sex with the woman of his dreams.

Shenanigans ensue.

—

“Wine or champagne?”

Levi eyed the two bottles in front of him, his eyes then sliding to the blond man behind the desk, his uniform a size too small for him. But he knew that Erwin liked it like that since it showed off his body. He’d never admit to it, though.

“Wine,” Levi said ultimately, motioning to the opaque bottle. Erwin obliged with a nod of the head and leaned forward, the leather chair groaning underneath his shifting weight. He took the glass and let a bit of wine dribble into it, handing it to the black-haired man to taste.

“Didn’t know you were a sommelier,” Levi remarked with a scoff, swirling the wine in the cup and giving it a sniff before tipping it to his lips. He smacked them together, the oaky wine reminiscent of the nights when he and Erwin would get too drunk after a successful mission—their arms around each other, their hands roaming to places that only lovers should touch…

“Are you drunk already, Levi? Your face is flushed,” Erwin asked, breaking Levi out of his daydreams. He reached across the desk, brushing his fingers across Levi’s cheek (as if that would make the problem better) (it absolutely didn’t). “You only had one sip. Are you sick?”

“Get your hands off me, old man,” Levi grumbled, swatting Erwin’s hand away even though he desperately wanted to grab it and lead it to the places where his mind went a few moments ago. His blush had worsened tenfold, causing Erwin to laugh and raise a caterpillar brow in pleased confusion. He took Levi’s cup and filled it up the rest of the way before handing it back.

“I’m not that old,” he retorted, standing up from his office chair to lean on the edge of the desk with the cup of wine he poured himself in hand. He kicked the tip of Levi’s boot playfully before taking a sip of the wine, wincing away from the cup. “Wow, this is pretty strong.”

He was far too close for comfort to Levi—he could practically smell that warm, masculine cologne he peppered on himself every day. It seemed as if every sight, every smell, every taste, every touch...everything was reminding him of the fact that he was horribly frustrated. Sexually frustrated, that is. Erwin was too much of a dunce to ever figure out that Levi wanted to take him apart and put him back together in a fit of pleasure. He’d never figure out that those lingering touches when they had dinner together weren’t a mistake, but a silent plea to never let go. No, Erwin’s nickname was—lovingly—meathead in Levi’s mind. It was getting to the point that all of Erwin’s playful touches and sexual remarks seemed mocking, as if Erwin was saying, “Yeah, you’ll never have me. But every woman on the Scout Regiment wants to fuck me. And I’ll fuck them, too.”

That gave Levi an idea.

“Speaking of old,” Levi continued, taking another sip of wine. If he was to have this conversation, he’d much rather carry on drunk so that he could blame it on the alcohol if—when—it went south. “It’s about time you get a wife. Any women on the Scout Regiment looking like a nice piece of ass?”

“Levi, how crude,” Erwin admonished, his eyes widening in surprise. “You shouldn’t refer to women that way.” Levi would have missed the slight blush rising in Erwin’s cheeks if he hadn’t already been staring straight into his soul for any hint of a reaction at the mention of women.

“Ah, sorry,” Levi apologized, thankful that Erwin wasn’t the type to reply to that gross comment with an equally grosser response. “Well, anyway, we’ve been in close quarters with them for a while. Any lucky ladies get a little closer?”

Erwin uncrossed and crossed one leg over the other as if he couldn’t decide where to put his legs, taking a heavy swig of the wine. It seemed as if Erwin had the same idea as his friend: get as drunk as possible to answer this line of questioning. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Erwin, don’t play dumb with me,” Levi said, leaning his elbows forward on his knees and sipping his wine until there was less than half left. “You can tell me. I’m your best friend. At least I hope.”

An unreadable look crossed Erwin’s face—what Levi wouldn’t give to crawl inside his mind right now. The blond ran a heavy hand down his face, letting out a groan that made Levi sit back up as straight as a pole. His hands drifted into his lap in case the little friend in his pants made an appearance, as it so often did when he was alone with Erwin, getting drunk like this.

“You…you are my best friend. Although that sounds a little juvenile.” Erwin chuckled softly before rolling his eyes. “Why are you so interested in my private life? For the record, it’s highly unethical for me to sleep with members of the Regiment.”

Levi tossed his head back in laughter. “We’re all adults. Shit happens.”

Erwin balked before shying away behind his desk, turning his back to Levi. His back was tense—the muscles surrounding his scapula rose through his uniform as he crossed his arms firmly. “You shouldn’t refer to making love that way.”

Levi stood up, tracing the edge of the desk with his fingers. Erwin was pissing him off. Why was he so defensive of his answers? Usually, men would jump to brag about their experiences at the mere insinuation of having sex with women. Meanwhile, he acted as if he’d never had sex before and was avoiding the question as much as possible. Levi just wanted to know if those lingering stares or tender touches meant something more, and he needed Erwin to tell him that he was taken so that he could be turned down without making a fool out of himself.

“’Making love’? You’re a big ol’ softie, aren’t you?” Levi sat on the desk as he watched the muscles of Erwin’s back tell the story his face was hiding. He polished off the last of the wine in his cup and set it gently down on the table. He kept his eyes on Erwin’s back, biting his lip and hesitating before finally saying, “It’s like you’ve never had sex at all.”

It was supposed to be a joke, one that would make Erwin splutter about to defend himself and spill all his sexual experiences. Levi was illiterate at reading Erwin’s facial expressions but had an advanced degree in literacy in reading his body language. He thought it’d be laughable to anybody to insinuate Erwin had never had sex. After all, anybody who met the man had hearts glowing in their eyes. But his shoulders hiking up to his ears, both of which promptly turned pink, and his arms quickly wrapping around himself were an obvious confirmation of Levi’s suspicions.

Levi was far too surprised to say anything or even move. His jaw went slack as Erwin shifted his body weight from one foot to another uncomfortably. The tension in the room was palpable, dripping from the ceiling and coating each man in a layer of unease. Erwin was a man of honesty. He’d never outright lie unless it’d reduce panic among the population or his cadets. He’d never lie to somebody of his rank, least of all Levi. So, the most he could do was stay quiet in the face of the accusation. If he stayed silent, he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t have to talk about it.

Except, Levi wouldn’t take silence as a complete answer.

“Erwin,” he pressed, the chair groaning as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He laced his fingers together as a hammock for his chin, cocking his head at Erwin’s statuesque figure. “Are you serious? You’ve never had sex?”

Erwin flinched at the claim, and he turned to the side, the lamplight creating a halo around his profile. His aquiline nose and thin lips were put on prominent display, and it took everything Levi had to not grab his face and turn it to face him. He needed to see what Erwin was thinking. He needed to parse out what the wrinkles in his face meant, what each flick of the eye signified. This discovery was the last thing he expected. He expected the secret to the Titans be discovered before Erwin’s more-than-intact virginity.

Erwin’s eyes were set on the floor. “I…it just never happened—"

“You’re approaching middle age, Erwin! What the hell do you mean?” Levi finally moved toward Erwin, grabbing his bicep and whirling the blond to face him. “You’ve never had one girlfriend? One woman you've liked?” He paused. “Have you even had your first kiss?”

“Of course I have!” Erwin was finally animated, and he tossed Levi’s grip off him and stepped back. “My Lord, Levi, you think so lowly of me.”

“Erwin, you are a fully grown, extremely attractive man who hasn’t had sex yet. People have flung themselves at you for years.” Levi tried to find another explanation for his shock, but all that came out was stutters and word vomit. He truly was at a loss for words.

Erwin pursed his lips before catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I just haven’t met the right person yet,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, I-I have, I simply…don’t know how they feel about me.”

Levi tried to catch Erwin’s eye, but the blond was resolute on keeping his gaze on a particular swirl in the hardwood.

“You’re kidding,” Levi scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “You’ve been waiting all this time because you’re scared to admit your feelings? We’re on the brink of death every day, Erwin. We’re going on a mission tomorrow. Sure, it’s a run-of-the-mill mission, but you never know what could happen. One moment you’re there, the next, you’re being crunched on by a Titan like potato chips. I think you’ll survive a little confession.”

Erwin turned his body completely to face Levi, catching the shorter man off guard with the sudden confrontation. “Well, what about you? What’s your entire sexual history? I can’t be the only one on trial here.”

Levi shrugged. “The Underground is an interesting place. Prostitutes are very forgiving for your first time. They give you a discount.” He laughed at the pained expression that crossed Erwin’s face and waved his previous statement away. “I’m kidding. There were some cute girls down there. And then here…well, I got around as I rose the ranks.” He deliberately left out the part where he fucked and got fucked by plenty of men, deciding that was too forward. He needed Erwin to come to him first.

Erwin braced himself on the edge of the desk once Levi finished recounting his sexual tales, his knuckles turning white with how tightly he was gripping it. Levi’s eyes fell onto the other’s hand, the veins and bones in his hand rising above his skin, causing his mouth to go dry. Was this the right thing to do—to ask Erwin about his love life? Wouldn’t he be disappointed when Erwin told him all about the sweet woman he was in love with, the woman he wanted to lose his long-overdue virginity to? Especially after all those yearning gazes shared between them, the times when Erwin draped a blanket over him after he passed out on top of his desk, the handmade teas and horrible cookies (but they tasted perfect because Erwin made them)? Suddenly, Levi wanted desperately to renege on the topic of conversation.

He was about to ditch the entire thing when Erwin cleared his throat, his face pinkening. The lamplight couldn’t lie; the commander was actually getting embarrassed.

“But…what if they’re disappointed? I should’ve…done it…a while ago. I should be good at it.” Erwin covered his face with his hand, the other still digging its nails into the wood desk.

Levi’s whole mindset changed then. He could work with this. He could…do something with this. He had a brilliant idea.

“Men your age and older still can’t fuck right,” he said softly, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he slowly approached the commander. “With how caring you are, I’m sure you’ll do better on your first time than any man who’s had sex a million times.”

Erwin��s blush worsened, but instead of bashfulness, it seemed as if he was surprised. “You think I’m caring?”

Levi hesitated. “Well, yes. You do everything in your power to protect your cadets.” Now, time for the hardest part of the plan. He swallowed thickly before sliding his hand across the table, his fingers meeting Erwin’s before sliding on top of the back of his hand. His eyes flicked from their enjoined hands to the panicked blue eyes in front of him, analyzing them for any sort of resistance. “And you do everything to protect me. So, if you want…I can teach you how to fuck. Before, you know, you go and have sex with the right person.”

His eyes fell to the floor after he finished speaking, disappointment setting in. Sure, if Erwin agreed to this, he’d get to fuck the love of his life and finally see him in his true, pleasure-fueled element. He’d probably even get closer to him. But this was all a precursor to Erwin going out to “make love” to the woman he actually liked, and Levi would have to watch from the sidelines with a pained smile as they settled down and had beautiful children. Sure, Levi wanted to fuck Erwin. But he wanted to love him, too. He wanted a life with him—as much as a life within the walls could afford. And he wanted Erwin to love him back.

Erwin was silent, but he didn’t move his hand, nor his eyes. His eyes stayed on their hands, evaluating, dissecting, inspecting. Finally, he inhaled sharply, causing Levi to inadvertently tighten his grip on Erwin’s hand.

“You’d be willing to teach me?” he repeated. Levi nodded. Neither of the men was looking at each other. They didn’t have the courage to, even as full-grown adults. “Physically, you mean? Not with a chalkboard?”

Levi’s next move was a surprise to him, too; it was as if he was watching his own body from afar as he gripped Erwin’s wrist and flung him into his desk chair before settling in his lap, his legs snug between Erwin’s thighs and the arms of the chair. Erwin’s thighs provided a wonderful seat: they were big and strong, the muscle providing the perfect padding for Levi to sit back and still reach the blond’s flabbergasted face. His hand gripped Erwin’s tie and brought him closer, the tips of their noses kissing.

“Does this answer your question?” he murmured, and Erwin quickly nodded, looking like an obedient puppy in the hands of his equal.

His eyelashes fluttered as his gaze dropped to Levi’s lips. “When will the lesson begin?”

Oh, you fucker, Levi thought before diving in and massacring the lips he’d been dreaming about for far too many years. He never in a million years expected Erwin to accept his advances, and yet, unbelievably, it was happening now, in front of him, and not all in his head. He didn’t have time to process the fact that he was kissing his best friend, and that his best friend was reciprocating (with tongue). He had accepted that this was a dream, and he’d treat it that way until it was confirmed that it was real life—presumably after they’d both finished their “lesson”.

Erwin was an extremely good kisser. Whoever he’d shared his first kiss with evidently taught him well, or he was experienced in that department, or he was a fast learner. Or all three. Whatever it was, all he knew was that just a kiss was getting him hot and heavy. He sighed into the kiss when he felt Erwin’s hands on his back and hip, big enough to span from one shoulder blade to the other and for his palm to cover Levi’s entire hipbone. Unwittingly, Levi bucked his hips in Erwin’s palm, trying to get closer to his burning hot touch, only to elicit a delicious groan from the other.

“Fuck.” Erwin bit down on Levi’s bottom lip, his hand gripping onto the back of Levi’s shirt as if he were hanging on for life.

Levi was on fire. The kiss was like a drug. It was nothing like the drugs peddled in the Underground; no, it was far stronger. It was deadly because he would rather sacrifice his lungs than come up for air.

“Levi,” Erwin all but growled, causing Levi to grind his hips down in reply. All that did for the commander was make his eyes roll back and call out another “Levi,” except this time, his voice was soaked in need.

“Oh, what you do to me, Erwin,” Levi whispered. He ground his hips down again, making Erwin see stars. The fronts of their pants were equally and painfully hard at this point, and if it weren’t for their pesky clothing getting in the way, Erwin would’ve finished a long time ago. Levi relished in the feeling of Erwin’s hardness pressed against his inner thigh, making sure to give it ample attention whenever he moved his hips because it gave him the perfect reaction from Erwin: a drawn-out moan that left Levi lightheaded.

Levi wasted no time in tossing Erwin’s tie aside and ripping open his shirt, the buttons popping off and clattering on the floor. The clattering did nothing to distract him from Erwin’s muscular chest, however. He’d seen Erwin shirtless before, of course. Living in such close quarters, they’d oftentimes had to change in the same room. Levi began to wonder if Erwin looked at him the same way he had admired the blond; his broad chest, imposing upon the other males in the room as if to say “I know I’m stronger than you, and you do, too,” his bedhead locks hanging limply in front of his coarse eyebrows when they’d been woken up far too early, the gray sweatpants they wore during training that might as well have been lingerie. They left little to the imagination, and Levi was about to find out if the bulge he’d have to pry his eyes away from every day lived up to its potential.

Erwin slipped his hands up Levi’s shirt hesitantly at first, but when Levi leaned into the touch with another whirl of the hips, his tender touches turned ravenous. Levi’s shirt was also not spared from their hungry love affair, joining Erwin’s torn shirt on the floor. Erwin’s lips detached from Levi’s and reattached to his neck, suckling on the soft skin until Levi was forced to dig his fingernails into the blond’s shoulders to not alert the guards mulling around outside. It was dark out; all the cadets were asleep—however, he didn’t want to risk anything.

“This is very un-virgin-like of you,” Levi murmured before a groan overtook his voice, his spine curving so their chests were pressed against each other. “You’re—mmm—good…”

Erwin chuckled a reply, his hands roaming Levi’s chest until his thumbs got stuck on his nipples, which were hard and tantalizingly pink. All Erwin saw was candy.

“Do you like being touched here?” Without wasting a breath, Erwin kissed a trail down Levi’s chest to place a gentle kiss on the nub.

“Yes,” Levi breathed, tossing his head back as his arms moved to hug Erwin’s head to his chest. “Erwin, this is so—h-hey!”

Erwin’s teeth snagged on his nipple, and the blond looked up with a smirk of mischief.

“Apologies. My mistake.”

Levi scoffed. “Bullshi—a-ah!”

Levi wasn’t a small man—frame-wise. He was muscular and broad and sturdy; however, Erwin’s hands made him feel like a delicate plaything, they were so big. He was starting to feel his dominance wane, especially with the way Erwin made him moan like a bitch in heat. He was always in control whenever he had sex, and the only way to do that…was to make Erwin the bitch in heat.

“Have you ever gotten a blowjob, Erwin?” he whispered, placing butterfly kisses on Erwin’s head as the blond busied his lips with Levi’s nipples and chest. However, those lips stilled at that question.

“I…I have,” he replied reluctantly, raising his head to meet the other’s eyes.

Levi was a little disappointed because if Erwin already knew how a blowjob felt, that meant he’d have to out-blow the first person. Not that that would be a challenge, but still.

“So you’re not entirely a virgin,” he mused, drawing swirls in Erwin’s gelled back hair. If his hair wasn’t sweat-soaked and messy in his eyes by the time they’d finished, Levi would consider it a job badly done.

“I-I suppose not?” Erwin stuttered, confusion evident in his tone. “Why, what are you—”

Levi was already on his knees before he finished his question, ready to answer it. He quickly undid Erwin’s belt, licking his lips at the bulge he had very clearly felt against his leg a few moments ago.

Erwin immediately began to panic, his arms flying out to try and stop the other. “Levi! Y-you don’t have to—”

Levi was quick to interrupt. “I want to,” he replied. He was practically drooling, the clinking of the belt and the zipper unzipping music to his ears. It was pornographic just how much Erwin’s cock was straining against his drawers—the poor fabric was hanging onto his hips by a thread. It only took a short wave of his hand against the fabric crotch for Erwin’s hardness to emerge, leaving Levi breathless and confused.

How the hell am I going to fit this inside me?

“Don’t look at it like that,” Erwin said with a frown, breaking Levi out of his thoughts.

“No, Erwin,” Levi cooed reassuringly, brushing his fingertips against the vein encircling his shaft. “I’m just admiring it.”

Erwin didn’t seem convinced until he felt Levi’s fingers against them—then, all insecurities vanished. His whole body stiffened, his fingers digging into the leather arms of the chair.

Levi smirked at the whitening knuckles in front of him, his eyes drifting up to meet Erwin’s heated gaze. “Christ, if that’s how you react to a touch like that, I wonder how you’ll react to this…” With that, he gripped Erwin’s cock firmly and gave it an experimental stroke.

“A-ah!” The reaction was better than what Levi could ever imagine. Erwin’s body was pulsing, his eyelids dropping with lewdness and his gruff chest voice coming out in spurts. “Fuck…”

“Hm,” Levi hummed, leaning over to give the head a chaste kiss.

“L-Levi!” Erwin gasped. “Stop playing with me!”

“Oh, but it’s so fun,” Levi replied, his never-ending smirk on display on his lips. It only disappeared once he took the head into his mouth, letting the saliva he accumulated in his mouth drip down the shaft and gather around his hand that grasped the base. He gave it another pump as he sucked happily, lubricating it both to provide less friction for Erwin and for himself when he’d eventually have to put it inside himself. It was hot in his hand and heavy against his tongue, and all he was thinking was how it’d feel slapped against his cheek. But of course, he didn’t expect a virgin to do that for him.

“Mm—mm! Levi, ple-ease…” Erwin begged, his body racked with overstimulation.

“Pleath whath?” Levi asked, his voice muffled from the cock in his mouth. But Erwin’s answer was interrupted by another bout of moans that dribbled out of his mouth once Levi returned to dutifully sucking, taking more of the shaft into his mouth. He continued to descend, the corners of his mouth burning by how wide his mouth was stretching to accommodate Erwin’s size, not to mention how he was on the verge of gagging with how deep the blond’s cock was rubbing in his throat. And he was only halfway down.

This is going to be difficult, Levi thought, but he couldn’t focus on thinking when Erwin was making such a huge racket above him.

He pulled up enough to speak, saying, “If this is how you react to the beginning of a blowjob, then the one you got before must’ve been horrible,” before diving back down to his previous spot. He heard Erwin begin a retort, but he stuck out his tongue and stroked the vein in the corner of his mouth as a dirty trick, effectively shutting Erwin up with his own groans.

Even though he was focused on going as deep as possible, he couldn’t help but look up and try to make eye contact with Erwin, who was watching him with such a hungry expression, Levi couldn’t help but reach down into his pants to try and relieve some of the pain in his crotch as well.

However, after a few more strokes and gulps of Erwin’s shaft, he could barely prepare himself for the pressure at the back of his head or the gag that came from the back of his throat.

GACK!

“E-Er–“ was all Levi could say around the thick shaft in his mouth before Erwin’s heavy hand pushed him further down, burying himself deeper in the dark-haired man’s throat.

“Fuck, Levi!” Erwin groaned, his head tossed back in ecstasy. “It feels so…fuck! I’m so close…”

Erwin’s last curse came out as a growl, lighting Levi’s cheeks and groin on fire. However, his throat was also on fire, but for an entirely different reason. He liked control, but he couldn’t deny that being manhandled this way, feeling the sting in his hair where Erwin gripped it, made his body electrified. And he also couldn’t deny that the feeling of a cock lodged in his throat, as much as it was sexy, was also extremely uncomfortable.

“Er—!” he began, his voice muffled before being interrupted by another gag. His taps against Erwin’s leg quickly turned to slaps just as Erwin’s pushes brought him down to the base, his nose nuzzled into his golden happy trail.

“Oh, Levi!” Erwin exclaimed, suddenly broken out of his pleasure-fueled fugue state. He released Levi’s hair and the pressure on his head, leaving Levi to immediately lift off his cock with a lewd pop. He was left coughing while Erwin spluttered out apologies, his hands up in the air before one of them found a place on the top of Levi’s head. However, this time, there was no pressure. He pet the soft hair underneath his fingertips apologetically as Levi caught his bearings.

“I’m so sorry, Levi,” Erwin finally said after a myriad of unfinished sentences and stutters. “I-I got too into it. That’s never happened before…I—“

“No,” Levi finally said, his voice now hoarse. He wiped at the corner of his mouth, his hand streaked with saliva and precome. He took a moment to clear his throat before quietly adding, “I…I liked it.”

Both men could barely meet each other’s eyes, their faces as red as the candle flame dancing about on the desk.

Erwin was the first who dared to speak. “Uh, well, I—“

But Levi was quick to interrupt. “If that’s all it takes to get you to come, then we better move on.” He stood up, his hands dropping to his own belt as he held Erwin’s curious gaze. He dropped his trousers, leaving himself in just his drawers. “We wouldn’t want you to finish before we even got started.”

Erwin cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowing together as he took in Levi’s body. His curious gaze morphed into something darker, his clear eyes turning stormy as they dropped to Levi’s crotch. “Y-yes, we wouldn’t want that.”

Erwin’s hungry gaze sent shivers down Levi’s spine. He had wanted this for so long: to be admired, to be sexualized by Erwin. He wanted to be wanted, and that was exactly how it was going. Erwin was physically restraining himself from reaching forward and pulling Levi to him; it was obvious from how tightly he was gripping the chair. It was perfect.

He carefully climbed back onto Erwin’s lap, sighing at the feeling of the blond replacing his hands to their rightful position on his hips once again. The position was the same as before, except now, Levi could feel Erwin’s leaking cock pressed against his asscheek, wetting his drawers.

“Nervous to finally lose your V card?” he asked with a smirk, reaching behind him to give Erwin’s cock a playful tug, earning a delicious grunt from the other.

“Should I be?” Erwin replied, cocking his head as he gazed up at his friend with lowered eyelids and heavy pants. His chest was rising and falling erratically the more Levi fondled him.

“No,” Levi cooed, reaching up to push down his drawers. He leaned forward and kissed Erwin’s cheek, delighting in the whimper that escaped those thin lips. “I’ll take care of everything.”

He lifted a hand to his lips, sticking two fingers inside his mouth and wetting them dutifully with his tongue. If he wanted to walk the next day and not bleed, he’d have to stretch himself very attentively.

“What are you doing?” Erwin asked. He was watching Levi’s every move with heated glances.

Levi chuckled between the fingers in his mouth, pulling them out and reaching behind himself. “Sex between men requires some stretching and lubrication,” he said as he slowly pushed a finger inside himself, letting out a low hiss. “When you have sex with the woman of your dreams, you probably won’t have to endure this. Women make their own lubrication, and if she’s not a virgin, she’s probably loose enough. Just give me a second.”

Even though he knew he shouldn’t rush the process, he didn’t want Erwin to think he was a boring lay, so he inserted a second finger, feeling a slight sting. Even though he only wanted to fuck Erwin in that moment, he at least wanted it to make it enjoyable and sweet for the man who was losing his virginity. He was sharing an important moment with his best friend, and even though sex between men wasn’t really counted as real sex, he might as well educate Erwin on real sex. So that was what he decided to do.

“You’re not exactly small, Erwin,” he continued, using his other hand to stroke Erwin as he fingered himself. It’d been a while since he last had sex. Perhaps a couple of years. Ever since he met and bonded with Erwin, he hadn’t had eyes on anybody else and wouldn’t let anybody touch him. In a way, he’d been saving himself for Erwin.

“You have to be patient with your lady,” he instructed, flinching each time he pumped his fingers in and out. He was loosening up, just not at the desired pace. “She might not handle it well.”

“Levi,” Erwin rasped, breaking Levi out of his teaching persona. “I want to do it.”

“Uh—” This was the last thing Levi expected, especially out of Erwin. “What?”

Erwin snaked a hand down Levi’s hip down to cup his cheek, his hand dangerously close to his entrance. His fingers inched up to stroke Levi’s wrist, which had since stilled from shock. He craned his neck up, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked at his friend.

“I want to prepare you,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t I learn how to do this?”

Levi hesitated. “Er, well, you probably won’t have to do this with women—”

“Levi,” Erwin interrupted, his eyes closing with annoyance, “for fuck’s sake, shut up about women. Let me help you.”

Levi’s ears went bright pink at that, and he had no choice but to let his fingers slip out and let his hand hang limply by his side. Erwin hardly ever cursed. It’d have to be a life or death situation for him to curse. And yet…

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Erwin warned, lifting his hand to his mouth and wetting two fingers like he watched Levi do. He dropped his hand to Levi’s entrance once his fingers were sufficiently coated, pushing in his fingertip as he held his breath.

“You’re not,” Levi said after sucking in a sharp breath. Erwin’s fingers were much bigger than his own—he knew this very well after dreaming about them for years. They felt even bigger than in his dreams. “Keep going.”

Erwin pushed in until he reached his knuckle and slowly pulled out, using Levi’s sighs and breaths as a guide as to whether he was doing well or not. He decided to risk it and push in a second finger before the saliva coating it dried up, earning a squeal from Levi.

“Are you okay?” Erwin asked hurriedly, but all Levi responded with was throwing his arms around his shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Erwin…” Levi’s voice was shaky. Erwin had never heard him like this. Levi always had a monotone voice, one that was reassured and calm. Even when he yelled, it was controlled. He was always in control. Well, it was only fair. This experience was a first for him, and it was a first for Levi to not be in control.

“Should I continue?” Erwin asked again.

Levi let out a shuddering breath. “I-inside every man’s ass, there’s a spot. And when you touch that spot, it makes you see stars. A-and…” He shifted his hips backward, causing Erwin’s fingers to brush up against a walnut-shaped mound raised from Levi’s walls. Yet again, Levi let out a cry, his fingers digging into Erwin’s back and leaving behind crescent-shaped tattoos.

“So, it’s here?” he asked, pressing into that spot again as if it was nothing, but it was everything to Levi. His mind was foggy, and his head was light. He was so confused; how did Erwin find his spot so quickly and how does he continue to find it so easily? Big fingers are good for that reason, but it seemed as if he knew intuitively where it was.

“Are y-you sure you’re a…a virgin?” he asked, moving his hips to match the pump of Erwin’s fingers. For a virgin, he was finding the spot over and over with impressive accuracy and stroking it with beautiful mastery.

Erwin chuckled and buried his nose in Levi’s dark mop of hair, taking in the smell of his hair mousse and salty sweat. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

After a few moments of continuous pumping, Levi instructed Erwin to scissor him open with another joke about him being well-endowed.

“I think you’re a virgin because women are too scared to handle your giant dick,” he said with a breathy laugh.

“Oh, I doubt that,” Erwin replied, giving Levi another scissor stretch. He fell silent in his thoughts for a moment before beginning, “You know, women aren’t my—”

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Levi cut in, his hand gripping Erwin’s wrist. “I’m ready to put it in.”

“P-put—“ Erwin spluttered, his face matching Levi’s pink ears. “O-oh, right.”

It was almost as if he just remembered what was happening, that he was going to have sex. It was frustratingly endearing.

“We’ll go nice and easy,” Levi whispered, his tone no longer having its usual bite. He wasn’t that drunk on horniness—he knew how much of a big moment this was for Erwin.

“Okay,” Erwin replied quietly. He sucked air through his clenched teeth when Levi gripped his cock against, standing it up as he hovered above it. “You can stop whenever you want.”

“I know that,” Levi replied hurriedly. It almost felt as if he was losing his virginity, not Erwin. He let out a long breath before lowering his hips, but his chest seized once his entrance made contact with the head of Erwin’s cock, the sheer size of it making his body shut down.

“A-ah,” was the small whine that escaped Erwin’s lips. It invigorated Levi—he had control. It was all he needed to lower his hips further, letting out a groan with each inch that entered him.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunted, his legs trembling the more he lowered himself. However, as strong as his thighs were, they were no match for Erwin’s size, and they gave out, causing a smack to echo off the walls from Levi’s legs giving out and landing him in Erwin’s lap yet again, except this time with his full size inside him.

“Ngh-!” It was like ripping off a bandage—it was better to get it over with all in one swoop, but damn, did it hurt. It was confirmed: Levi would be walking funny the next day for sure. But it couldn’t have felt any better. He was finally joined with Erwin. And he couldn’t wait to fuck him into oblivion.

However, Erwin was suspiciously quiet. Levi tried to lift his head from being buried in Erwin’s gelled hair, but Erwin’s stiff hold on him prevented him from checking in on the blond or even seeing his face since it was pressed against Levi’s chest.

And then came the warmth flooding inside him. It was strange—did Erwin grow a few inches in the few seconds he was inside? But it felt like liquid… which sent Levi into a panic. Was he bleeding that badly? Was he hemorrhaging? If he died because of internal bleeding from a giant cock instead of going down in glory from a Titan, he’d have some hands to throw with God.

However, he quickly pieced together what was happening when he felt Erwin’s entire body shivering and a guttural groan escape from the back of his throat, reverberating throughout Levi’s entire body.

Erwin came.

“Erwin?” he whispered. He bit his lip apprehensively, unsure of how to approach the sensitive issue. Usually, he enjoyed a good creampie. But he needed to have his mind fucked out before he got to the point where he could tolerate the slimy mess inside him, and he was hardly there. Now, he was just uncomfortable, even if it was Erwin’s, the love of his life’s slimy mess.

Erwin wasn’t talking. He was a statue.

Levi took his perpetual silence and interpreted it as shame. He rubbed Erwin’s shoulder reassuringly and kissed the top of his head, making sure to keep his hips still to not overstimulate the poor man.

“It’s alright, Erwin. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of men do this, especially during their first time. It’s completely nor…” Levi trailed off when he realized something dire: Erwin wasn’t getting softer. He was preparing himself to lift off Erwin’s lap and have that difficult conversation, but how the hell was he supposed to get up with that thing still lodged inside him?

Erwin wasn’t just not getting softer; he was getting harder. Enough to stretch Levi open even more, causing the man to hiss both in pain and in confusion. What the hell is going on?

Before Levi could realize what was happening, he was being lifted into the air and subsequently flipped over, his face pressed into the cold hardwood desk. His legs flailed about before finding their place on the floor, his arms pinned behind him in Erwin’s strong grasp.

“Erwin—?!”

“Sorry, Levi, but I’m not done.” Erwin’s voice was gravelly, and Levi couldn’t see his face to match the voice to the expression he was making. “Mind if I come in you again?”

“W-wait—!” However, a powerful thrust cut him off, replacing his objection with a shout mixed with a lewd moan. His chin and knees thumped against the desk, and his softening erection was at full mast yet again. “Erwin, wait!”

Erwin was about to pull out again—he had become a machine—but stopped upon hearing Levi’s pleas. “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

How dare you fucking ask that when I’m leaking like a hose over here? Levi thought angrily. He shook his head to the best of his ability and clarified, “N-no, just…what happened?”

“Oh.” Erwin chuckled bashfully, and when Levi turned his head, he could see the blond rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

The damn brute, acting all shy.

“Well, that was embarrassing. You caught me off guard. But I recovered. So, shall we continue?”

He pulled out an imperceptible amount before pushing back in, giving Levi a mouth-watering taste of what was to come.

“Erwin,” Levi breathed, his cheek heating up the wood underneath it as he tried to meet Erwin’s eyes. “Fuck me until I can’t stand.”

Levi liked to be in control. But something that he’d learned very quickly from Erwin (who knew he’d be learning something from the virgin?) was that sometimes…it was nice to give up control. He had been in control his entire life, especially now as a captain. Maybe he could let somebody take the reins for a while.

The small smile that crossed Erwin’s lips sent chills down his spine. “Duly noted.”

The subsequent thrust that followed made Levi’s knees buckle, but Erwin’s hold on his wrists pinned to his back held him in place long enough for Levi to barely recover in time for another back-breaking thrust.

“E-Erwin!” he cried, his skin prickling with each smack and squelch that hit his ears. “Erwin, fuck, it feels—ngh, s-so—"

Both his legs and voice were trembling, his legs close to collapsing at the feeling of Erwin’s size stuffed inside him and pushing out his semen with his thrust. The previous semen provided the perfect lube, and it only added to the lascivious sounds filling the room. Erwin’s groans and grunts were short but dominant, each one causing Levi’s body to seize up and his hole to tighten, which then caused Erwin to groan more. It was a vicious cycle, one that brought each man eye-rolling waves of pleasure.

“You’re so tight, L-Levi,” Erwin murmured, leaning over Levi’s body to lick the shell of his ear. He gave another rough thrust, relishing in Levi’s unhinged reaction. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”

Levi was about to reply with a sarcastic remark, but Erwin never gave him the time as he ramped up his pace and continued to give his ear—one of his erogenous zones—special attention. Erwin let go of Levi’s wrists, to which the captain responded by spreading his arms out and digging his nails into the wood. However, Erwin didn’t leave Levi’s hands unattended for long. In between hard thrusts, he slipped a hand over Levi’s, interlacing their fingers from the back and running his thumb over his knuckles. He kept his other hand staunchly on Levi’s hip, leaving angry red marks for Levi to enjoy afterward.

“You’re going to have to buy me a new desk,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the slapping and wet sounds behind them. “You’re leaving scratch marks. That’s pretty…ugh…s-suspicious.”

“Erwin!” Levi begged, both out of frustration and pleasure. He wanted Erwin to stop teasing him, but at the same time, that was the main thing that was sending him over the edge—other than the punishing thrusting pace, of course. “Fuck me, f-fuck me, f…fuck…mmm—! Harder!”

“As you wish,” Erwin replied. He complied beautifully to Levi’s request, each thrust leaving a fresh set of raised red circles on Levi’s ass. “A-ah, Levi…it’s getting quite hard to move…”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Levi demanded. Yet again, Erwin complied, leaning back over and meeting Levi’s cherry red and bitten-up lips with a sloppy kiss that only added to the wet sounds in the room. “Mmph!”

“Levi,” Erwin growled hoarsely in between kisses, causing Levi’s toes to curl in his boots. “Levi…are you cl…mmm…close? Can I...c-can I come inside?"

Levi nodded quickly, which only added to his disorientedness. He couldn't tell down from up—that was Erwin's effect on him. "I-inside...plea...please!"

They were breathing into each other’s mouths at this point, too afraid to separate lips and lose that connection between them. Levi nodded, his hand drifting down the desk.

“My…my cock…” Levi mumbled before a moan overtook him, his hand stopping in its movements as his body went stiff again.

Erwin understood right away. He acted quickly, wanting Levi to come at least once before he finished again. He moved the hand on Levi’s hip down, down until his fingers brushed against Levi’s leaking cock. Within a second, he had it in his grip, giving it a tight pump and utilizing the precome as lube.

Levi’s reaction was immediate, his voice coming out as a shrill squeak and his body ransacked by tremors. He could barely see anything between his sweaty hair clumping in front of his eyes and the way his head was being tossed about with each brutal thrust. All he knew was that he needed one more thing, and he was done.

“Levi,” Erwin whispered again, planting a kiss on the corner of Levi’s lips. “I like you. I like you so much. I’ve liked you for so long…”

That was all Levi needed. With all his erogenous zones activated, plus the romantic confession from Erwin, it was the perfect concoction that brewed up a warm, familiar feeling in the depths of his stomach. It only took the combination of a pump of Erwin’s hand and a thrust from his brilliant cock to send him over the edge.

“Er-Er—” His voice cut out just as his vision was overtaken by blinding stars, his come splashing against the inside of the desk and leaving it covered in the evidence of his and Erwin’s romantic encounter. His entire body seized, and every time he felt the fluid movement of Erwin’s abs moving against his sweat-slicked back, it overstimulated him to the point that all that came out of his mouth were pathetic whimpers. With the next movement, he used all the strength in his neck to move his head over to their conjoined hands and bit down on Erwin’s knuckles to silence himself.

It only took two more thrusts for Erwin to finish. He had been holding back ever since they first started back up again, but he needed Levi to enjoy this as much as he was. And his captain very clearly did. His captain.

His orgasm was quieter than Levi’s, but it wasn’t any less dramatic or took any less of a toll on his body. His hips stuttered forward, his chest erratically falling and rising to compensate for the lack of breath in his lungs. He grunted into the nape of Levi’s neck as he buried himself deep inside, spilling his second seed of the night inside his captain. His captain.

Levi was very much in that fucked-out-of-his-mind state of being because he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of being filled to the brim with that sticky substance a second time. It was the perfect feeling to close out the night, followed by the worst feeling of the night: Erwin pulling out. He let out a pathetic whine, and he wasn't even ashamed—he loved Erwin's cock that much. He felt so empty, and he had to deal with the sensation of Erwin’s hot come spill out and wind down his leg. He’d have to take a bath right after this. But his legs could barely stand, and he could hardly hold onto the desk; all his limbs had turned into jelly.

Luckily, Erwin caught him by wrapping his arm around Levi’s stomach before he could collapse, seating him in his lap. Since when had Erwin sat back down in the chair? Levi didn’t know—all he knew was he had been thoroughly and totally fucked from the fact that he had no sense of linear time. All he knew was that he was still madly in love with Erwin, and he had fallen deeper in love…if that was even possible.

“Hey,” Erwin finally spoke up after a few uninterrupted minutes of them breathing heavily. “You’re the right person I was talking about earlier, Levi. You’re the person I’ve been saving myself for.”

Levi was so lightheaded, he felt as if his head could up and float away at any moment. But the second he heard Erwin say that, heard his meatheaded commander confess his love for the second time, he was all-too grounded.

“I…I think I figured that out pretty quickly, Erwin,” Levi replied softly, still catching his breath. He slipped his hands over the blond’s that were sitting over his stomach, and he leaned his head back to rest against Erwin’s shoulder. He looked up to see those blue eyes he’d wanted to focus only on him for so long, and he earned it. Now, those blue eyes never left him. “No normal man would’ve accepted my proposal without being a little attracted to men.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I’m not normal,” Erwin replied, hugging Levi closer to him. “I’m glad you taught me to love you, Levi.”

How could Levi not feel all warm and mushy at that? As much of the stern man he was, he wasn’t heartless. In fact, Erwin reminded him just how big his heart could be at times, as if it was too big for his chest and would burst at any moment.

“Okay, but you seriously saved it all these years for me?” Levi asked, lifting up and turning slightly to be able to look Erwin in the face. “Ever since we first met? Why didn’t you make a move earlier?”

Erwin sighed deeply and shook his head. “I was honestly about to lose it before I met you. I had a girlfriend, and I was satisfied with the thought that I’d be living out the life people expected of me. Get a nice wife, have a couple of kids, and retire from the Regiment or die with the honor of leaving behind a nice family and being a strong man.” He looked up, his eyes never having shone so brilliantly before. “But then I met you, and I realized I needed to share such an intimate part of myself with somebody I truly cared about. And as for taking so long…”

He snickered and tapped Levi on his behind. “That’s your fault. I dropped so many hints…”

“You dropped so many hints?!” Levi interjected. “I was dropping hints every time we were alone together! Your nickname in my head is meathead because you never understood anything!”

“Er, I—” Erwin hesitated, his eyes dropping as he gathered his thoughts. “Now, wait a minute—”

“Ugh, it doesn’t matter,” Levi sighed, lifting a hand to Erwin’s cheek and stroking his famously sharp cheekbone tenderly. “It took too goddamn long, but we’re here. We…” He bit his lip before saying, “We made love.”

Erwin let out a bark of a laugh and threw his arms around Levi, pulling him in for a tight, bone-breaking hug. “And you said I was a softie!”

“Be quiet,” Levi demanded, pushing himself off Erwin’s lap and grabbing a tissue from his desk to clean himself up to the best of his ability before pulling his drawers and pants up. “By the way, how did you know where to touch me? It barely felt like I was having sex with a virgin.”

Erwin smirked. “I read pornography.”

Levi whipped around, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. “Those pictures? There are ones with males?”

“Once you’re the commander, you can get a lot of things normal people can’t,” Erwin replied coolly.

Levi went silent, fumbling with his belt absentmindedly as he imagined Erwin masturbating to gay porn late at night. Dare he imagine that Erwin was thinking about him while masturbating, replacing the men’s faces with theirs? He was far too exhausted to get hard again, but damn it, could he still use his wonderful imagination. “Well, you won’t need that now that I’m here.”

Erwin chuckled and shrugged. “I suppose not.”

Levi finished fastening his belt, his cheeks heating up as he tried his best to ignore Erwin’s fond gaze on him.

“Stop staring at me and get back to work.”

“Oh, Levi, won’t you stay?” Erwin pleaded, reaching out to tug on Levi’s pants.

“With your come in my ass? I don’t think so,” he replied with a scoff. His first reaction was to smack Erwin’s hand away, but instead, he lifted it to his lips and gave his knuckles, which harbored a clean red bitemark from earlier, a soft kiss. “Besides, I only came in to drop off those documents and talk about them for a little bit. My side mission was to seduce you. I’ve been pretty successful today.”

Erwin grinned and nodded. “I have been thoroughly seduced.”

Levi was so in love. All he wanted to do now was get back in Erwin’s lap and kiss him until they both passed out. But he had to control himself. He just took the man’s virginity, they confessed both their feelings to each other, and he had to cope with the fact that he wouldn’t be able to walk straight the next day. He was exhausted.

He walked over to Erwin’s closet and pulled on one of his shirts since his had been ripped to shreds. It was far too big for him, which was both a blessing and a curse. He was far too tired to care about the curse—besides, it was late. He could run to his room without anybody seeing him, right?

“I’ll see you in the morning, Erwin,” Levi said after buttoning up the shirt.

“Can’t I seduce you to sleep in my bed tonight?” Erwin asked, standing up to fasten his belt and pad over to Levi. He towered over the captain, that pleading expression leaving Levi at a loss for any rejection words.

“I…” He’d never be able to say no to that face. “I won’t make it a habit. But since I took your virginity…” He tugged at Erwin’s belt, stumbling him forward enough so that his nose reached his downturned chin. “I can make an exception for tonight.”

Before Erwin could react, he added, “But I have to clean myself up. I’ll be back after my bath. You should probably take one, too.”

“Can’t we take one together?” Erwin asked in that pleading voice, but this time, Levi put his foot down.

“The entire Regiment probably heard us rutting about. Us going to the bath together is pushing it,” he said. When he saw the gloomy look that crossed Erwin’s puppy-dog face, he pulled the blond down by the back of the neck and smooched him hard enough to leave the other dazed. “I will see you in an hour. Goodnight.”

He shuffled out of the room before Erwin could object, closing the door and rushing down the hallway. He was smiling to himself, so excited that he made it out without being seen that he missed Moblit’s entire body in the middle of the hallway, bumping into him hard enough to get the other to grunt.

“Hey—oh, Levi!” Moblit exclaimed, quickly lowering his voice since it was late. “What are you doing out here at this hour?”

He stepped back, and it was comical how quickly his eyes dropped from Levi’s face to the oversized shirt he had on. It was less comical how they slowly drifted down the hallway to take in Erwin’s slightly ajar office door and how the lights were still on inside the room. Not to mention, Moblit certainly noticed how disheveled and sweaty Levi looked.

“What are you staring at?” Levi snapped, tugging the shirt tighter around his body as he shouldered past Moblit. “Get back to your post before I inform Commander Erwin about this.”

“So you’d go back to his office?” Moblit asked, hiding a snicker behind his hand. He barely saw the kick in the back of the knee coming, crippling him to the floor as Levi continued on his way.

“No more smart remarks from you, soldier,” Levi grumbled, slipping into his room and hiding behind the door. He walked to the bathroom and looked himself in the face: he was far too red. He knew he could trust Moblit to keep his secret—it didn’t make the encounter any less embarrassing.

Before long, he was bathed and clean. He made sure that the hallway was clear before sprinting down and slamming Erwin’s bedroom door closed behind him. He sighed, but before he could even turn around, Erwin’s hands were on him, around his waist, pinching his hips.

“You took too long.” Erwin had probably fallen asleep; his voice was gruff but melodic.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Levi whispered, turning around in his arms and taking in the refreshing cotton scent of his shirt.

“Mm.” They shuffled and practically fell onto the bed, Erwin out like a light before Levi could even adjust his position. He was convinced that they’d get up to some more funny business before falling asleep, but perhaps losing his virginity in addition to orgasming twice in one night was a little too much for the commander. It would have been too much for anyone.

Levi, fully believing Erwin was asleep, fit himself into his side. His head found a place on his muscled chest, the same one he had been envisioning himself laying on for far too long. And here he was, with that chest all to himself with no need to share it with anybody else. He draped an arm around Erwin’s waist and hugged him tighter.

“I like you, Erwin,” Levi whispered as he shut his eyes.

Erwin smiled to himself in the dark, his eyes fluttering open and casting down to take in Levi’s frame snuggled up against him. I like you, too, Levi, he thought. More than you could ever know.

153 notes · View notes

onesunofagun · 3 years

Text

I shall now yell about Ingo, please stand by:

Ingo’s transformation from the underappreciated backbone of the ranch to an absolute ruff-wearing cantaloupe of a man is also pretty interesting (if you’re the kind of person who absorbs the Zelda series through your skin like a frog to live).

I’ve bolded the key points for skimmers.

Granted, the manga has it that Ingo just gets brainwashed by Twinrova into being a staunch follower of Ganondorf. That’s not canon, but it’s not informing any of this thinking, either way.

In the beginning of OoT we meet Talon by waking him up from a nap, and we learn pretty quickly that he’s lazy and often yelled at by his daughter for slacking off like this. Ingo at the ranch confirms again that Talon doesn’t pull his weight around there, and since Malon’s still a child, it’s pretty obvious that Ingo’s settled with the bulk of the work.

Ingo is grumpy, he’s resentful, and he complains a lot. But he does do the work, and you can find him (presumably) in the process of mucking out the stables.

Let’s examine what he does at the ranch:

Epona really liked that song... Only I could tame that horse... Even Mr. Ingo had a hard time...

Now, Epona is established in game to be a real winner of a horse. She’s fast, she’s smart, she’s got a lovely sorrel coat and white mane that seems to be quite rare or highly prized coloring. The catch is, she is notoriously wild. The only people she tolerates are Malon and Link, due in large part to being soothed by the song Malon’s mother taught her.

Ingo had to really try to crack this horse, which Malon’s observation suggests is unusual.

Epona is very young when we first see her, so it’s never really revealed if she was caught wild, or bred at the ranch with a very headstrong temperament.

Ingo’s clearly the guy that’s breaking them in, though. The most Talon is doing is... sleeping in with the cuccos. We never see any organisation of the cuccos, in terms of egg collection or poultry farming, but nevertheless, Talon has the much less physical jobs even if he was doing them. His focus seems to be cuccos, deliveries to the castle and book keeping between naps (and to be fair it’s probably a little depression related, given the dead wife).

Malon gives us a cow later on, and she’s got the egg for the crowing cucco that wakes up Talon, so I’d like to assume for simplicity’s sake that even as a kid, Malon was up at dawn most days helping Ingo with the cows and milking them. It’s never really implied that she has amazing skill in dealing with horses, just that Epona has a special connection with her specifically. Other than that, Malon is simply kind and respectful of her animals (though I’ve got no idea how she got that cow to Link’s treehouse and that’s worth investigating).

Later on, Ingo is also shown to be a competent rider. Enough that he has absolutely no qualms in challenging Link to races for wagers, and was quite confident of his ability to win.

The takeaway is, Ingo is usually VERY GOOD with both caring for and training horses, if not breeding them for the ranch.

That kind of lends to his grumbling, when he is referring to himself as ‘the Great Ingo’ and comparing himself to Talon, who is a ‘bum’. His claim to greatness may not be undeserved, at least in horse circles, and especially if he’s not getting particular credit for it, his bitterness and frustration (alongside envy, exhaustion, and dreams of recognition) would be quite deeply run.

So it seems that his friend and employer is clearly taking some advantage of him, especially after the death of Malon’s mother.

So now, let’s examine his feelings, and how he changes.

The feelings Ingo has about that are pretty textbook for the sort of thing ‘evil takes hold of and twists’, in the Zeldaverse.

Focussing on the game itself, Malon says this as an adult:

Since Ganondorf came, people in the Castle Town have gone, places have been ruined, and monsters are wandering everywhere. Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... Everyone seems to be turning evil...

We do see other characters in Hyrule become influenced by the ‘darkness in their hearts’ as byproduct of Ganondorf’s reign.

A prominent example of a character who was visibly dissatisfied with their lot, and then notably changes (while praising Ganondorf for what he’d done), is the Castle Guard who is heavily implied to have become the Poe Dealer. Even if by some slim means it’s not the same person, the Poe Dealer does still express that they could not do the work they do without Ganon as King, and that they now benefit from him being in that position and are grateful to him.

The Kakariko Carpenters seem to have given into their fantasies about living among the Gerudo women, and gone out to the Valley and gotten themselves taken prisoner. Following work near the fortress, the team chooses to act on their selfish desires and go for broke, chasing their dreams. They weren’t previously prepared to act upon these fantasies when Link was young, admittedly much milder in their still very prominent obsession, but seven years later, they’re quite happy to risk it all and piss away the stability of their careers (and nearly their lives) at the first opportunity.

Anyway, the trend is, those across Hyrule who are unhappy with their lot before Ganondorf’s coup tend to be ‘corrupted’ by seven years later, and appear to have given in to a twisted version of whatever they most wanted.

This is noteworthy especially because the language in the game revolves around the Sacred Realm being opened and corrupted, too, by Ganondorf’s unbalanced heart and selfish goals. It is unable to be ‘sealed’ again while Link has the Master Sword. In aLttP, we know there is a mirror like effect to do with the sacred turned dark realm, in which it reflects the hearts of men.

So it is very reasonable to say, that for OoT in particular, much of this evil influence plaguing the land and preying on the darkness an people’s hearts is a result of the corruption of the Sacred Realm. It is an indirect byproduct of Ganondorf’s acquiring of the Triforce, but not necessarily something he himself does to people on purpose, unlike the brainwashing of Nabooru.

Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... But Dad... He was kicked out of the ranch by Mr. Ingo... If I disobey Mr. Ingo, he will treat the horses so badly...

This explains a lot of the more callous and greedy behaviour that Ingo shows later on, and why it seems to disappear when he is truly humbled by Link.

Link’s win serves as a reminder of Ingo’s stagnating skill with horses, the very thing that made him feel so deserving of praise and recognition in the first place, in that for everything he now has control of at the ranch, he still cannot control that horse. He has become as much of a bum as Talon ever was, relegating Malon to do all the hard work while Ingo struts around uselessly. He’s even lost his touch with the Horses so much, in his arrogance, that now he has taken up mistreating them and using harsh and abusive methods (according to Malon’s concerns).

The humiliation and shame takes hold, his pride shattering with the loss of Epona-- not only as a valuable asset, but also as the horse he could never truly tame.

The dark feelings he was holding onto are let go of, as he regains a sense of humility, and the corruptive influence upon him dissipates. He even seeks out Talon to bury the hatchet and invite him back to the ranch.

Oh, I have to tell you about Mr. Ingo... He was afraid that the Evil King might find out that Epona had been taken away... It really upset him! But one day, all of a sudden, he went back to being a normal, nice person! Now my dad is coming back...I can't believe it, but peace is returning to this ranch!

But what about his obsession with Ganondorf in particular?

When the coup happened, Ingo watched the King of the Gerudo unwittingly play out a sort of grand parallel to what Ingo felt should happen on the ranch. To Ingo’s perception, I think Ganondorf was representing an ideal version of Ingo himself.

A man of the desert, where hard work and grit are as second nature to survive the harsh conditions. A man frustrated with the King of Hyrule’s shit, and forced to swear fealty to him despite being a King himself. A man resplendent with wealth, with fine and flashy clothes and plentiful jewelry.

And perhaps the most important note of all, the Gerudo in OoT?

They’re horse people.

They love horses. Ganondorf’s horse is reputed to be a purebred Black Gerudo Stallion, which is obviously a specialty breed, that is fully armoured and as flashy as he is. When the Gerudo cut the bridge leading to the valley, the only way in and out is to have a skilled horse jump the gap.

They also have a huge horseback archery range, and prowess in the sport is an incredible source of respect amongst the Gerudo, and many of the guards possess bladed polearms suitable for mounted use. From this, it can be assumed that during the recent civil war, Gerudo weapons, war tack and military tactics were probably built around mounted cavalry archers foremost, with a lesser focus on light and heavy cavalry aside (iron knuckle armour springs to mind).

Anyway, Horses are very important to the Gerudo in the era of Ocarina of Time.

So Ganondorf is also unique in the sense that he is the King of a people who value what it is that Ingo does very highly. He, of all people, stands to immediately recognise the knowledge and skill that Ingo possesses in rearing horses.

So this is a man who successfully stages a coup of Hyrule, who clearly inspires Ingo to do much the same of the ranch, and who Ingo also feels is very likely to take his side should he appeal the matter.

And Ganondorf does.

And if that’s not a great compliment to Ingo’s actual skill, I don’t know what is, because Ganondorf is not a man that suffers fools. He’s got a limited patience when it comes to shit that is beneath his notice. Clearly, he recognises that Ingo is indeed the backbone of that ranch-- and the main reason for the quality of its Horses-- and rewards this accordingly.

And for Ingo, being on decent terms with the big scary goth King is a very, very good place to be. But it’s more than that!

What a guy! Not only did he deliver on Ingo’s long due validation, he gave Ingo everything he’d ever dreamed of having to his name, and the authority to kick Talon to the curb. He gets it! Ganondorf, this great eight foot beacon of freshly sought divine power and topaz-encrusted glory, this absolute unit of a man, this great underdog horse-lover after Ingo’s own heart; he really understands how great Ingo is. Ganondorf is paving the way for people like them! Oh, to rub shoulders wiht such greatness when the rest of Hyrule is scorned.

Ingo feels seen. The Great Ganondorf made all that thankless time spent shovelling horse shit while Talon slept mean something. The Gerudo appreciate Ingo’s talents.

And all Ingo has to do is keep turning out really good horses, and promise to present the King with his finest.

So Ingo knows he’s in deep shit when he gets cocky and loses Epona to a wager, who at this point, he’s prepared pretty well and sunk a lot of money into on the idea that she’s going to Ganondorf.

Who he’s probably bragged to about how fast she is.

He lost her to some jerk in tights who’d barely ridden before, too. And then when Ingo tried to cheat him out of the win, the kid jumped the damned fence an in ass-bustingly cool move that really just drove home how excellent and rare Epona was.

One does not promise the King of the Gerudo a fast horse and then fail to deliver, let alone for such a stupid reason.

Honestly, by the end, the man’s just happy to be alive.

Also I’d like to think he and Talon had a much fairer delegation of work and forgave each other, each really learning to appreciate what they have and what’s really important.

how the fuck did the Kokiri leave the forest for this scene anyway, they don’t even have their faries???

#tloz #tloz oot #Ocarina of time #legend of zelda ocarina #nostalgia #ingo #malon #talon #lon lon ranch #hyrule #zelda meta #legend of zelda #gerudo #ganondorf #zelda discussion #zelda theory

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wishesunderthestars · 3 years

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Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

“I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

"She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

"She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

You had a very bad feeling about this.

Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

"But I was! I still am!"

Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

“I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

"No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

"She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

"-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

"We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

"Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

"What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

"Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

"Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

"I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

"Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

"There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

"One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

"And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

"I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

"I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

"I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

"He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

"I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

"But you don't."

You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

"You're thinking too loud again."

You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

"Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

"What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

"What do you want this to be?"

Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

"Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

"He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

"I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

"No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

"It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

"It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

"It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jikook #yoonmin #sope

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