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hoe-doroki · 3 years

Text

On the Job pt. 2

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, fuck or die sex pollen (which means there are noncon/dubcon elements), reader is a sex worker, masturbation, face fucking, temperature play, (light) pain play, biting

pairing: todoroki x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

summary: Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just the things of porn and fantasy–they’re actually quite common and too often fall into the wrong hands. Heroes, of course, do the best that they can, but when they get hit, they must be taken off the line of duty and someone needs to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be? Obviously, you.

a/n: Half of me didn’t actually think that I would follow up part one, but I feel a heavy obligation towards my fanfic promises so...this is a weight off my shoulders, lol.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You’d gotten the call early today.

Not early in the day—truth be told, you’d hardly known what time it was before picking up the phone. No, you got the call early. As in not last minute. The call saying that your client would have to be transported to the agency from on site and they could tell you the details in the meantime.

The call saying you’d better drive to the agency, because you had to service a hero in an hour.

Now, patience wasn’t usually your virtue of choice—actually you didn’t often tend towards virtues in general. Save perhaps for kindness, which you preferred to deal out on your knees or your back, augmented by praise and the generosity of offering all three of your holes for your clients’ needs. But you were happy to cultivate it today, because an early call meant one thing.

You knew who was coming today.

Your pants were already off and you shirt was pushed up over your breasts as you leisurely played with yourself. You’d licked the tips of your fingers and gotten them started with slow passes over your clit, the other hand pinching your nipple, just a little too hard in prep for a hero who’d probably give it to you rough.

Maybe your reaction wasn’t right. Maybe it wasn’t kind of you to be so relaxed—relaxed and eager, actually—over the news that it was possible that Pro Hero Shouto would die. That he’d been hit with the particularly high stakes brand of aphrodisiac quirk and that if you didn’t trigger the release condition—that was: hot and heavy sex—his heart may very well stop or whatever happened on the other side of these troublesome quirks.

You wouldn’t know. After all, you hadn’t lost a single client yet.

So perhaps that was cold of you. Perhaps it would be more virtuous for you to be worried about him, fretting on the other side of the door with the guards over his ETA.

Then again, as stated: you’d never been one for virtue. Sin was much more fun. And surely it was better to make sure that whenever Shouto did show up, you had a wet pussy that he could waste none of his precious time sinking his cock into.

You groaned at the thought, dipping two fingers from your clit into your cunt and scissoring them. Your head lolled back against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed against that front wall the flats of your fingertips, feeling that soppy wetness covering you and beginning to drip down your knuckles.

Yeah, you were ready for him.

In fact, you’d been waiting for Shouto longer than just today. After nabbing the number two pro hero, Dynamight, a few months back, you’d gone ahead and debased yourself further—how much further was there to go, though, really?—by creating a list of your dream clients. You’d written Dynamight just to check him off, the memory of him cumming in you raw and licking you clean still hot between your thighs.

Your near encyclopedic knowledge of heroes—naturally, you took a healthy interest in your job—had then led you to daydream about Dynamight’s whole hero cohort. You added Red Riot to the list, dreaming of his abs, imagining riding them, teasing sweet whines out of him before backing up and dropping yourself on his cock. You thought of Deku, what it would mean for your ego to nab the number one hero, the flash of jealousy that would rise on his face when you let it slip that you’d already fucked his biggest rival, fucked his goddamn brains out and yours to boot.

Of course, you couldn’t do that. NDAs, after all. You’d already signed away your rights to mentioning anything about what happened to or with Shouto today. Still, you could dream.

Then, of course, your thinking had truly devolved, and you’d thought about the boys being paired up, fighting a villain with an unknown quirk only to be hit by the ever common, ever unknown—thanks to you and your prudence; oops, there was another virtue—aphrodisiac quirk and having to take care of both of them. Spit-roassting, Eiffel Tower, a goddamn daisy chain—anything. Long story short, you’d ended up cumming twice more on your hands before the evening was done.

But also on that list, was Shouto Todoroki.

Who, if you weren’t mistaken, was now on the other side of the door.

After all, these walls weren’t soundproof. It provided quite the show for the lucky guards on the other side, but hey, if you needed to scream for help, they had to be there. By the same coin, you could hear the shuffling on the other side, the footsteps approaching, and the telltale sound of the lock on the door being activated. You pressed your legs together, resting them to the side, hiding your glistening pussy artfully with your legs for the sake of modesty. Everyone knew what was happening here, but you didn’t need to send Shouto’s poor handler back blushing to their colleagues.

Shouto was ushered into the room and, without eye contact, someone yelled to you, “Ready, ma’am?”

“Ready!” you called back, and the door was closed, leaving you alone with the number three hero.

Without modesty, your legs fell open, revealing the mess you’d already made of yourself to Shouto. You dipped the fingers you’d been using into your mouth, and cleaned them dutifully. After all Shouto was still wearing his costume, and you did so hate the agency having to send those to the cleaners with your fluids all over them.

“Hey, bud,” you purred, running a hand slowly up one thigh. “I heard you have a problem.”

Pro Hero Shouto was known for his stoic personality. News conferences and interviews he participated in always consisted of a slow, even tone, and little beyond cold facts. There was something pleasantly mysterious about that, sure, but it didn’t exactly hint that he’d be quick to jump into bed. Sexy voice, though.

But whatever quirk he’d been hit with must have been strong, because the next thing you knew, the index finger from his left hand was tracing down the front of his uniform, cleanly burning a line straight to his already tented crotch. His accessories had already been taken off—his belt, gloves, shoes, even the clasp at his neck had been undone earlier. So there was nothing in his way as he pulled either side of his scorched uniform to the side and off his arms as he approached the bed.

“All business, huh?” you asked, pushing yourself up off your pillows by your forearms, watching as Shouto climbed onto the bed on his knees, finally pulling his jumpsuit down past his crotch.

You’d taken a bet with yourself on the color of his pubes—it’s not like you’d be losing either way if you got to see them. They turned out to be dual-colored, but not the stark red and white of his hair. No, they were more neutral in tone, like yours. Unlike yours, they were nested above a heavy cock, already shining with precum—or actual cum, you didn’t know—at the head.

Shouto didn’t reply to your comment, and you weren’t surprised. Some people went totally nonverbal when hit by sex pollen quirks, and that was fine. You’d rather someone button their lip than ruin the mood by saying something off, after all. All business was fine by you—this was your job, after all. And no matter the size of his mouth, his cock was just fucking right.

You naturally lowered your legs as Shouto began kneeing over you, cock in hand. Your brain only just managed to catch up to what was going on when his legs stopped on either side of your ribs, his leaking cockhead crossing your eyes before you. Automatically, your jaw dropped open, and Shouto’s cock smeared pre against your cheek and the corner of your mouth before sinking deep into your mouth, drawing a first obscene moan out of him.

A humming moan fell out of you too, barely able to take in the taste of Shouto’s cock before it was pressing against the back of your throat, springing tears to your eyes automatically. Something about aphrodisiac quirks so often seemed to play with the taste of these heroes’ cum. No longer was it bitter, but just heady, salty, and more pleasant than it should have been as it coated your tongue and throat. You adored it, and purposefully relaxed your muscles so that you could take more of him in.

Shouto didn’t hold back. With barely half a breath in your lungs, Shouto was thrusting deep in the back of your throat so that your spit dripped from your mouth and smacked wetly between his balls and your chin. You blinked tears out of your eyes and looked up at him to find blown pupils staring back at you, gaze hot and pointed.

There was light behind those eyes. Whatever Shouto was right now, it wasn’t unthinking, not pure instinct. No, the way he was fucking your throat, the way his eyes had you pinned—it was intentional.

Abruptly, Shouto pulled out, a think strand of spit snapping from his dick, cold on your tongue as you panted from the rough treatment. You held your mouth open, expecting him to shove back in once you’d caught your breath, but Shouto seemed to have other plans. He moved down your body, soaked cock again in his palm, and his eyes now set on your pussy. You reached for one of the condoms you’d set out next to you, and held it in front of him.

“Hate to sound like an after-school special, but no glove…”

Shouto paused, eyeing you for just a moment before taking the square and making quick work of it, rolling it over himself.

Then, abruptly, he put a hand on your cheek, drawing your eyes back up to his. “Thank you for your hard work. It does not go unappreciated.”

“What the—”

You were left agog at his statement, wholly unprepared as he swiftly took each of your thighs in one hand, spread them, and plunged in you to the hilt. You gasped high in your chest, your throat still tender from being rawed by Shouto’s dick. He leaned over you, sighing with a relief that doubled then halved the size of his chest. His forehead touched yours in a strange moment of intimacy, and, for a moment, you wondered if that was it. Was that all the release condition took? Penetration? Or had he cum and you just hadn’t noticed?

Were you going to be left to tend to yourself with the bullet vibrator in your glove compartment yet again?

Then Shouto leaned back, looked at you again with those sharp eyes, and began smacking into you with abandon.

“Fuck,” you let out as Shouto’s balls, still wet with your spit, left their mark on your ass with every deep thrust he gave you.

Shouto manhandled your thighs, grabbing them firmly in each hand as he reared back fully on his knees again, taking the lower half of your body with him. You reflexively braced with your arms, and soon they were the only part of you still in contact with the bed, along with your upper back and head still resting on the comfortable stack of pillows.

As was often the case, you’d lost control of the situation. You could barely match Shouto’s thrusts on your own as he repeatedly used his upper body strength to bring you to him, and his lower body strength to send his hips right back in return. If you tried to reach him, your fingertips would barely brush his thighs, much less any other part of him. You were totally at his mercy.

You couldn’t help but eyeball his broad biceps, flexed by holding up the weight of most of your body. And aside from the sweat dripping from his forehead—probably quirk-induced—he was showing little to no strain.

He hadn’t always had muscles like this, you were sure. You couldn’t help but remember pundits sounding off on Shouto’s overreliance on his quirk over physical strength, or the difference between his body and the massive tank that was his father, Endeavor. They’d shown clips of his body—handsome, always handsome—but either Shouto had done a lot of bulking in the last few years or those newscasters had been particularly unkind. Likely both. Because now, drops of sweat were trickling from his body in rivulets; there were no straight paths to go down. A bulging muscle here to dip around, the crease from a flexed ab there to pool in. You were hypnotized by his form, even the thighs straining under the part of his uniform that he hadn’t bothered to burn off.

Your mind was so enraptured by thoughts of Shouto’s body that the sensations happening to yours crept up on you. All at once, you realized that your thighs were burning. Actually, one was burning, and the other was freezing cold, both just under his palms and branching up the fingers currently painting five bruises into each muscle.

A gasp flew out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back as your thighs suddenly began quaking unbidden. Shouto looked down at you, his expression easy save for those passionate eyes, little huffs escaping his slack jaw. “Too much?” he asked.

Your head shook side to side, a vehement no as Shouto dug his fingers even deeper into your flesh, bringing dull throbs of pain so close to where every thrust brought about sharp flashes of pleasure. It felt like a betrayal when he just then loosened his grip to slide his hands up to your knees and hook them over his shoulder. Then those hands, right at the brink of freezing and searing pressed into the meat of your ass as he brought your hips to his with redoubled force.

That first new thrust sent Shouto’s head turning to the side, digging a painful bite into the fleshy part of your calf, making you cry out. A moment later, he let go, his tongue passing over the teeth marks like a salve over a wound.

All the dueling sensations had you close. You’d been teasing yourself for so long before Shouto had even shown up and now he was fucking into you like…well, like his life depended on it.

God, was it wrong to love fuck or die quirks?

You were quick to take a hand and put it back on your aching clit, despite the strain it put on your neck and upper back to lose one arm of support. Part of a good fucking was being folded like a pretzel, and you’d just book a massage appointment tomorrow to deal with it. Surely saving the life of the number three hero was worth a reward.

Shouto’s eyes honed in on your fingers moving rapidly over your clit, and you bet he could feel the twitches of your cunt approaching climax. A hand left your ass and went behind his head to pat your ankles. “Cross them,” he instructed.

Obediently, you crossed your ankles, making your position a bit sturdier as Shouto continued to drive you back onto him with one hand. Then that second hand went to yours, brushing it away with the backs of his knuckles. A surprisingly gentle gesture for the man who was kneading bruises into your ass and biting your leg. Then, with his thumb, he painted one slow, hard, blazing stripe up your clit, and you came instantly.

“Fuck!” you shouted as your back arched in midair, the crown of your head digging into the pillows as your neatly crossed ankles came undone, your thighs shaking and falling from Shouto’s grip. His cock slid out of you as your lower half bounced once on the bed. Before the springs could vault you back, Shouto was on top of you, pressing himself back in your still convulsing cunt.

His thrusts were long, desperate as he breathed into your neck. He mouthed the base of your neck with light bites and suckles—never quite kissing. Your thighs came back up around his hips and his left hand went back to squeezing your thigh. Meanwhile, the right came between your thighs, surprising you as two fingers began prodding at your entrance.

Almost immediately, you could feel the heat of the stretch. Or rather, you would have felt the heat of the stretch, had his fingers not been ice cold against you. You cried out as he curled his fingers forward while his cock kept thrusting straight through you, the hot and cold contrast nearly too much. You wondered how much more intense it would feel if Shouto were unbound by the condom, and you able to bear its full heat.

“Please,” you whimpered as your orgasm began to rise again, too quickly, nearly as sudden as the first one had been, but without all the build up. This one felt like it was going to tear out of you.

Just then, the nips that Shouto had been teasing over your neck went away, and he planted one more good bite on your shoulder as his thrusts became insistent, the fingers petting inside you matched with a cold thumb over your clit. And neither of you could hold on a moment longer.

Shouto groaned low and bone deep in your ear while your voice, still raspy from early, keened in his. Your thighs went tight around his waist and his hand was trapped between you as you both rode out your highs. It took a full minute for your muscles to unwind, and your feet to fall flat to the bed. At that point, Shouto pulled out and rolled over next to you, both of you panting as the sweat dried on your skin.

Shouto pulled the condom off of himself and found a trashcan to toss it into before falling flat on his back again. After a few moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he opened his mouth. “Thank you for your professionalism.”

You snorted. “You’re welcome,” you managed, keeping your laughter at bay. “That’s not what people usually thank me for.”

“Thank you for saving my life?” Shouto tried again, his gaze shifting over to you.

His eyes were still bright, but his gaze less sharp, obscured by dual-colored bangs falling over it. Suddenly, Shouto looked a great deal more innocent than the man who’d been fucking the life out of you just minutes ago. Perhaps an effect of the quirk wearing off, perhaps the effect of unfettered pleasure meeting relief.

“More common, yes,” you replied, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“You’re very good at what you do,” Shouto said, his eyes going to the spot where he’d bitten your shoulder. He circled it with one finger, brows furrowing. “You’re like a hero.”

“Hah,” you returned, looking up at the ceiling. You weren’t going to let this be the moment in your career that made you blush. “Vixen, the orgasm hero. I don’t think it would meet the commission’s guidelines.”

“Perhaps not,” Shouto said, sitting up and pulling up what remained of his costume, frowning at the spot where he’d torn it. You supposed you needn’t have worried about this costume going to the cleaners; the support team would likely toss it and make a replacement.

“There are clothes you can change into in the closet,” you said, pointing to the near invisible door in the back wall.

Shouto waved you away as he stood up. “This will be fine to make it to the locker room with.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you pushed yourself up, trying to remember where you’d thrown your leggings before you’d started jerking of, grunting as your spine cracked.

Shouto plucked the leggings from near the foot of the bed and tossed them to you before heading towards the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back and made eye contact with you one last time, the ghost of a smile you’d never seen before on his lips. “Thanks again…Vixen.”

As he closed the door, you could only blame your own impropriety, that utter lack of virtue that you first thought was:

Number two pro hero, Shouto: check.

#todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shouto todoroki smut #shoto todoroki smut #tw: sex work #tw: sex pollen #tw: masochism #tw: pain play #tw: dubcon #tw: biting #tw: temperature play

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griffintail · 3 years

Note

Hey Griffin I love your work, your writing is amazing, and I was wondering if I could spare you an angsty request: Parental Tommy falls into deep grief after their child, Reader, goes into prison to tell Dream off for blowing up their home and hurting their father and Uncle Tubbo, and gets killed by Dream. Maybe how Wilbur and Schlatt react to Reader in the afterlife, and what Tommy does to try and get them back. (Inspired by this week's streams)

I went farther than with this than I planned to originally. Lol. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Quiet Uptown

Pairings: Parental! Tommy x Teenage F! Reader

Warnings: Death, Blood, Mentions of Violence, Angst!!, afterlife, swearing

A/N: (F/L) is first letter of your first name because that’s just a Tommy thing.

Sam hesitated when (Y/N) had stepped into his prison that day.

The young sixteen-year-old girl stood there; her eyes filled with determination as she waited for Sam to speak.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, standing up. “Does Tommy know you’re here?”

“No.” She answered truthfully. “He won’t realize I’m gone for maybe two hours. He wouldn’t ever let me near here but I want to give Dream a piece of my mind after everything he’s put my family through. Dad and I both own only one life after everything he’s one and I want to let him know how badly he lost.”

“I…Don’t think this is wise. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m more than a kid! Everyone seems to forget I fought for Pogtopia at the age of thirteen and lost a life for it. I went and helped dad every day in his exile when no one else would! Dream killed me for that bullshit and I refuse to let him think he has control over me and my family anymore.”

Sam could see it was more than that. She wanted to know that Dream no longer held control over her and her family. Dream had taken everything from them. Their nation, their family members, their two spare lives, their friends. Now he was locked away after Tommy won and she needed to know he couldn’t control them anymore.

“Alright. Well, I need you to read this carefully and sign it.” Sam slipped into his role as Warden.

He walked (Y/N) through the clearance steps and lead her down through the prison.

Dream was a broken man. Sam made sure his spirit was broken and the masked man had long since stopped trying to escape. The poor young girl needed closure.

…Sam was overconfident in his abilities.

“If you need anything, call for me,” Sam told her and she nodded.

And she was let into the cell.

The man of the hour was surprised by his visitor, picking himself off the floor as he grinned behind his mask.

“Well, well, well. It’s little Innit.”

“Shut up.” (Y/N) immediately said. “You’ll listen to me today.”

Dream held up his hands, giving a laugh. “Alright. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

(Y/N) looked around the small cell and was reminded of her father’s claustrophobia…that Dream caused.

“It’s fitting for you to be in here. Trapped in a box. Your life thrown in a hole, waiting to be destroyed.” (Y/N) said. “You did a lot to my family Dream, you hurt them, you killed them. There are people out there that say you don’t deserve this but I know everything you’ve done. You’re going to rot in here forever if it’s the last thing I do.”

“You’ve got a pretty big ego there.”

“You’re one to talk! You took everything from us because you couldn’t handle that we took away even a bit of your power!” She took a deep breath to calm herself and Dream saw the Tommy in her. “You tried to kill Tubbo, you were going to used what everyone loved against them. You’re a psychopath and you can’t be let out.”

“People can change though. I can change and get out.”

“You’ll never change! You’re talking bullshit and I know! Dad knows it! Sam, Tubbo, Quackity! You’re just bullshit! You’re a green little bitch and you’ll never get out! You can’t hurt us anymore. We’re in control now and we’re free from you forever.” She told him, getting in his masked face without thinking.

She never meant to go so far into the cell…Sam had asked her not to…

Dream’s grin turned wicked, (Y/N) unable to see it but she felt something in the air change and she paled slightly as she took a step back towards the netherite barrier realizing how far she went.

“I might not be able to hurt anyone…outside!”

“SAM!” She screamed, bolting for the barrier…but Dream was faster…

“DREAM! DON’T!!” Sam commanded as he tried to bring the lava down as fast as he could! …

…

“Come on Tubbo. You’re getting shit at this.” Tommy laughed as he knocked Tubbo’s wooden training sword out of his hand.

“You’re such an arse.” Tubbo huffed, going over to get some water.

Tommy grinned. He had missed this, just being to train with Tubbo for the hell of it. (Y/N) said she needed to do something Ranboo, so it felt like he was missing something during the training but he was glad to know she was able to go out in the world without him worrying. Dream wasn’t out there anymore.

The taller man was practicing his swings when Tubbo heard both their walkies beep. Someone must be calling them. Tubbo picked up his walkie, going to answer but his eyes went wide as he saw why the walkie had beeped. He dropped it, taking a step back, making Tommy look over in confusion.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tommy asked, going over to see what it was.

“T-Tommy, don’t—” Tubbo started but Tommy had already picked up the walkie.

Tommy entire world stopped as he stared at the words on the screen.

(Y/N) was slain by Dream

“This—This is a stupid fucking joke.” Tommy tried to say, looking at Tubbo.

But Tubbo had both his hands over his mouth as he was already starting to cry.

“She…He’s in prison!” He shouted as he went for his own walkie. “This is shit joke Tubbo!”

He couldn’t breathe as his walkie displayed the same message. It felt like the world around him was getting smaller as he couldn’t think of anything but those five words.

“It’s not true!” Tommy screamed before snatching up his gear.

He ran out the door to find it raining. His trident came off his back and was soaring through the air after throwing it through the rain. There was no fucking way, she was with Ranboo! Dream was rotting in a cell! He made sure of it!

His baby should be as safe as she could be!

Mud splashed all over him as he landed in front of the prison complex, soaking wet but he felt so numb. He couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t care about anything else, he just wanted to know who was playing this cruel joke.

“SAM!” Tommy stormed in.

Sam clutched the figure to him as he made his way past the empty prison cells hearing Tommy’s voice.

He failed…

This was all his fault…

Sam stared at the last door where Tommy shouted his name again before taking a deep breath and opening it.

Tommy snapped his head over and his entire world collapsed as Sam held the bloody figure in his arms. Their blood was coating Sam’s armor along with their own clothes.

“No, no…NO! NO!!” Tommy shouted as he gripped his head taking a step back.

That couldn’t be her, it just couldn’t be! She shouldn’t be here! She wasn’t here! It was all a…a dream…a nightmare!

“Tommy.” Sam let out a heartbroken voice.

Tommy looked up and looked to her neck. The (F/C) bandana was undeniable…

Taking a shaky step forward, Tommy took the girl from Sam before collapsing to the ground, sobbing when he saw what Dream had done to her. He rocked, back and forth as he held her close.

“Please…please little (F/L)…come back to me. I’m here now.” Tommy choked out his words as he stared down at the bloody girl. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Please come back (Y/N).”

He put his forehead on hers as his tears stained her face.

He let out a heartbroken scream!

And it echoed all throughout the prison, making Dream’s maniacal laughter continue in his cell.

…

“Who’s this?” A voice asked.

(Y/N) groaned at the feeling of a pounding headache before looking up.

“(Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here first.” She heard a much more familiar voice.

She looked up seeing her Uncle Wilbur grinning at her.

“W-Wilbur?”

“Ayup.” He chuckled. “Nice to see you again kid.”

“Where…Where…” She looked around at the darkness, startling when she saw the familiar ram man and scooted away. “Schlatt.”

“Hey, brat. Nice to see you again.” He grinned. “Welcome to the afterlife.”

“I’m…I died?” Her breathing picked up.

Her head started to hurt and she gripped onto it as she remembered. The blood…the pain…daddy save me!

She startled feeling a hand on her shoulder, seeing it was Schlatt as Wilbur stood there with his hands in his coat.

“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty hard.” Wilbur shrugged. “We’ll…show you around.”

Wilbur laughed as Schlatt rolled his eyes.

“Come on brat.” He offered her a hand. “We’ll explain it all to you.”

…

Tubbo was waiting at Tommy’s base, his own heart shattering seeing his best friend sniffling as he wiped away his tears while covered in blood.

“No.” Tubbo breathed.

Tommy couldn’t think at the moment. The world seemed unreal. He couldn’t feel the rain hitting his body or the cold starting to set into him.

“My little girl’s gone Tubbo.” He muttered.

“I’m so sorry Tommy. What…what happened?” Tubbo asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just…” Tommy put his hands through his hair, his breaths coming out short. “(Y/N)—She…Holy shit…My poor little (F/L)…”

Tubbo came over putting his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Breathe Tommy.”

“How?! My—She’s gotten! Beaten and blooded! She must have been terrified and I—I wasn’t there Tubbo!” Tommy shouted putting his hands over his face.

“…What are you going to do?” Tubbo asked.

Tommy rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t think, I need…I need the night to get anything in me…”

“Yeah, ok. I’ll stay.”

“No, I…I really need some time alone right now,” Tommy told him.

“…Ok. I’ll get a room at the hotel so I’ll be close by, ok?”

“Yeah, alright,” Tommy muttered before pushing past into his house.

Tubbo let tears roll down his cheeks before he looked at the prison, marching himself over.

Tommy stood inside the house and…it felt so small and so quiet. He laughed bitterly to himself. Finally, it being quiet uptown made so much sense to him. Everything felt so dull and silent.

Slowly, he went into his ender chest and pulled out his first disc. He stared down at it as he remembered finding (Y/N) after he found this disc. He ran a thumb over it as he remembered every time, he fought Dream for it till the final battle. He went to the bedroom, staring at the made bed across the room.

He went to the jukebox and put the disc in as he sat on his bed staring at the empty one. His body broke down again as he cried into his hands.

“If I had just kept the memories and you instead of this stupid disc you’d still be here!” He shouted to air. “I’m so sorry (Y/N)…I’m so sorry…”

At the prison, Tubbo stormed in with a trident in hand.

“What the hell happened?!” Tubbo demanded, Sam, sitting on his desk trying to process his own thoughts.

“I was too late…” Sam muttered.

“That answers nothing. What happened?!”

“…She wanted to see Dream. She wanted closure after everything you’ve guys have been through…she was just a kid…and…”

“Yeah, she was a kid, so why did you let her in?!”

“Because she looked so broken. She wanted to see Dream couldn’t hurt her anymore. I-I-I thought I got the strength out of him! Then…she screamed for help…I tried to get in as fast as I could…he just laughed when I came in…”

“…You shouldn’t have let her in.”

Sam hung his low, knowing he was right.

…

(Y/N) sat watching the two men play solitaire.

“Why’d you even go and see Dream?” Wilbur asked as he laid down an eight of spades on a nine of hearts.

(Y/N) felt her throat tighten, it always making her feel weird when she did it past few days as she didn’t need to exactly breath.

“I was having nightmares, Dream getting out and sit. I just…needed to see he was away, unable to hurt me.”

Wilbur snorted and Schlatt punched him.

“Shut the hell up man,” Schlatt told him.

“Well, it obviously didn’t help, she’s here.” Wilbur rolled his eyes as Schlatt put down a five of diamonds. “And no punching, that’s round five.”

(Y/N) breathing picked up and Schlatt huffed, throwing his cards down.

“We’re not going to finish?” Wilbur questioned.

“No, you’re driving us both nuts. Let’s go kid.” Schlatt hoisted her up and away, surprising her as that was the first time, he didn’t call her brat.

(Y/N) glanced back seeing Wilbur continuing to play his game without them. She remembered Wilbur being insane before in Pogtopia. This was a whole new level.

“We’ve been here for years,” Schlatt spoke, making her look at him. “He was nuts before; he’s even more fucked up now. I’m still more me because I’d rather sleep through this shit. You know the phrase I’ll sleep when I’m dead? That’s what I’m doing.” He grinned at his own joke.

She snorted quietly, as she looked at her hands. “I just want to see my dad so bad…I lied to him as my last thing and…I miss him.”

“I know kid. It’s hard for us to get down there though. I don’t even know how fuck face managed it.”

“…Do you think he’s mad at me?” She asked.

“No, I remember that stupid kid. If anything, someone probably had to hold him back, foaming at the mouth, from killing Dream himself with his bare hands. He wouldn’t be mad at you.”

She smiled softly. She wished this had been president Schlatt and maybe everything would have been better. But Wilbur was right, L’Manberg needed to go, it corrupted everyone.

…

“Tommy,” Sam said as they stood in front of the lava wall.

Four days had passed. Tommy had a funeral for his little girl and there had been gifts and tributes for her, but nothing made it, her. He felt like he was suffocating constantly and he couldn’t take it anymore. She had no ghost so Phil’s research would give him no help. But…there was one other thing.

“You know what he’s going to ask for,” Sam spoke the obvious.

“I know. He’s not going to get it.” Tommy said, his voice dead.

Sam gripped the lever that would bring down the lava wall. “He hasn’t eaten in two days, he’ll be weak.”

“Good. Now let me in.” Tommy stepped forward.

Sam hesitated before pulling the lever. After a few minutes, Tommy was standing behind the netherite barrier. Dream grinned, his mask off as he stood up, holding his hands out.

“The man of the hour! I’ve been waiting for you!” Dream laughed.

The barrier dropped and Tommy walked in.

“Bring her back.” Tommy simply stated.

“Can’t without the book, you know what I’m going to need.”

Tommy nodded, walking forward before hitting Dream with surprising force that sent him to the ground.

“We’re…going to have a nice long chat,” Tommy told the surprised man in a monotone voice. “And it’s going to end with where you put that book or how to get my little girl back. So, let’s talk bitch.”

Tommy would get her back. He wouldn’t let this be the end.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #tommyinnit x reader #dreamsmp #dreamsmp x reader

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Gwynriel Week - Day 1

Favorite Moment Together (let's be honest, there are too many)

"I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."

"A comfort to every growing child."

In honor of meeting in the training ring, here's a little ficlet:

Reunion

Read on AO3

Azriel was surprised to find her in the training ring.

The Blood Rite had only ended two days ago. Training was postponed, both for recuperation and preparation for Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. And yet there the priestess was, heavy breaths sending clouds of steam into the frigid night air. His shadows wriggled in response to the sight, and he was able to breathe for what felt like the first time since that day they realized the three female trainees had been dropped into the brutal war game.

She was here. She was whole. She was unharmed.

He had glimpsed her that afternoon. He knew that she had survived – had won the damn thing. But with the madness of his High Lord and High Lady’s near death, the birth of their child, everything… he hadn’t gotten the chance to settle. But seeing her in the training ring, like so many evenings before she was stolen away, filled him with such a sense of pride and bone-rattling relief.

He stepped out of the shadowed stairwell, the darkness trailing him like a cape. He would have expected a scathing remark by now about him observing without greeting, but Gwyn simply continued beating the padded post senseless.

“Even Cassian said you could take time off, priestess,” he mused. “I would take advantage. It’s not a privilege often given.” The Spymaster took her in as she turned to face him, chest rising and falling from exertion. Her cheeks were pink, freckles darkened over the flush, and sweat sparkled on her brow. She gave a smile – he could always depend on her to do that – but bruised circles under her eyes betrayed her.

“Can’t sleep?”

Gwyn rolled her neck between her shoulders and flexed her fingers. “Surprising as it may sound, Shadowsinger, being kidnapped and dropped into the most brutal warrior initiation in Prythian can be quite nightmare-inducing.”

Azriel regarded her, tilting his head. Of course. He was a fool not to realize it, mind too preoccupied with knowing that she was safe, and knowing that she had conquered.

He hadn’t shared with anyone how terrifying that week had been for him. Cassian probably suspected, but Azriel made a living and a lifestyle of keeping his expressions schooled and his emotions carefully locked behind several different doors. Knowing there was nothing he could do hadn’t made the fear easier to bear, but it had made the imperative focus on finding Briallyn in that time easier to deal with. His mind had often drifted, though. Far more than he was comfortable admitting. The Blood Rite was appropriately named. It was less an initiation and more like a war. It was brutal and bloody, and knowing the caliber of warriors that Gwyn would have to face made his insides twist.

But knowing the Illyrian opinion of females, and knowing what could happen to her if even one entitled brute got ahold of her and had a taste for flesh…

The blood had frozen in his veins as soon as it was confirmed that she was gone.

The world had not been kind to Gwyn. Their first meeting had not been under pleasant circumstances. In his mind he could see her on that table, trembling and sobbing, as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He had sworn to himself that if anyone touched her during the Rite he would hunt them down afterwards and show them exactly what the Spymaster and his dark blade were capable of. But in front of that vengeful bloodthirstiness was the stark realization that she may not even survive.

There would have been no more meetings like this, time together that he had begun to crave.

“And what of you, Shadowsinger?” She flashed that teasing grin. “If you say you’re in search of another dagger I might start thinking you’re just making excuses to see me.”

Something inside Azriel snapped. There were no thoughts, no words. He strode the few steps between them and pulled the copper-haired priestess against him, snaking an arm around her back while his other hand pressed her head gently against his shoulder.

“Surprising as it may sound, Berdara,” he breathed, his lips brushing against those soft chestnut-red strands, “sitting and waiting for a week, not knowing if someone you care about will survive the most brutal warrior initiation in all of Prythian – and being powerless to do anything about it – can be quite nightmare-inducing.” He breathed her in, the scent of her and the feeling of her body against him the final confirmation that she was alive and breathing and here. Gwyn breathed in against him, as well, winding her lithe arms around his lower back.

“Az…” she whispered.

“I nearly went mad, Gwyn. When I thought about never finding you out here again…” That was exactly what had gone through his mind. Without his realizing, she had become quite an important fixture in his day-to-day life, and when he had thought about not experiencing her competitiveness, or seeing her triumphant grin when she perfected a new skill, or hearing her call him ‘Shadowsinger’ as scathingly as she could manage – it had shredded him. When her arms tightened around him he felt his heart might burst with warmth.

“It sounds as if you didn’t have confidence in my skills, Shadowsinger,” she snickered against his chest. His shoulders shook with a laugh.

“Never. I know you were trained by the best.”

The priestess snorted and pushed away from him, fixing him with a skeptical look and raised eyebrow. His scarred hands came to rest on her hips. “It must be tiring lugging that enormous ego everywhere.”

“I’m a strong and powerful male. It’s nothing.” He flashed a crooked grin. “I appreciate your concern, though, priestess. Or shall I call you Carynthian?”

“It has a ring to it.” Gwyn gave a nose-crinkling smile. When Azriel looked into her eyes they were soft, a thin sheen of wetness reflecting the glittering stars. He tentatively raised a hand and tucked a stray copper strand behind her ear before tracing those callused fingers over the freckles splattered haphazardly over her cheek.

“I am enormously proud of you, Gwyn. And impressed. And relieved beyond words that you’re home safe,” the Illyrian admitted, not at all ashamed of the honesty.

“There was a moment,” she began, reaching up with her fingers to caress the hand at her face, “when I was hit with that arrow. We were so close to the end, and I hadn’t allowed myself to think until that moment that I might not survive. So many things flashed through my mind in a rush. I… I saw your eyes, and your smile, and heard you laugh. I remember wishing I’d had more time. You’ve become… quite important to me, Shadowsinger.”

Her words were a salve to a heart he once thought broken beyond repair, a tonic to an aching soul. He smiled wider than he could ever remember, grateful that they had been given this chance. The shadows seemed to agree, twirling around their arms and into her hair. Gwyn giggled, a melody made of hope and starlight.

“Sorry about them,” Azriel grimaced, lowering his hand to find his way to her hand and catching a few of her graceful fingers between the mottled skin of his own. “They’re drawn to you.”

“Who can blame them, really?” the priestess – the Carynthian – tittered with a sly grin.

The shadowsinger chuckled. “I certainly can’t.” Pink bloomed over Gwyn’s cheeks – spring roses under freckle constellations – and his grin grew smug. Oh, yes. He liked how it felt to be the cause of that.

Keeping their fingers entwined he pulled at her again, wrapping his other arm around the middle of her back before pressing his lips into her hair. And she didn’t flinch or freeze, which was a consideration he should have had perhaps before he chose to do so. Her fingers fidgeted with his and her shoulders lifted before a contented sigh brought them impossibly tighter together.

“I look forward to our evening training sessions continuing far into the future, Carynthian.” Voice deep and hushed, Azriel leaned his cheek on the soft pillow of silken copper. He wasn’t used to being so forward, and he still found it intimidating to outright speak his heart. He was a man of action, and he could only hope that those helped his cause.

“Maybe a nice dinner or two, as well, Shadowsinger.” He smiled, wide and bright and so unlike the spymaster most knew.

It seemed they heard each other loud and clear.

@gwynrielweek

#gwynriel fic #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel #gwynriel headcanon

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moonlit-jeno · 4 years

Text

snapshot | l.jn

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre/ warnings: smut, thigh riding, hand jobs, masturbation

words: 2.6k

Jeno is going to pass out.

It’s not because of the lack of sleep he had gotten, the fact that he’s about to miss the deadline for his essay, or because he’s been eating like shit the whole week. It’s not even because of the disgustingly graphic horror movie Renjun had made him watch. It’s because you, his very attractive roommate, have sent him a picture.

Nothing like the normally cute selfies you normally send him, or the ones taken from an awful angle to get a laugh out of him. This one’s sexy. Blue lace just barely covers your breasts, your necklace fitting perfectly in your cleavage. Your lips are parted slightly but they’re swollen, as if you’ve been biting them.

The sheer speed with which all the blood in his body rushes to his cock is fast enough to make him lightheaded almost immediately, and he stares at the picture long enough that it’s permanently ingrained behind his eyelids. Which is a problem. A big, big problem.

He realizes just how big of a problem it is when he gets a hand around his cock, guilt swimming in his stomach as he realizes that he’s about to jerk off to his roommate. His wonderful, lovely roommate who he is friends with. Did he have a mild crush on you? Yes. But your relationship is nothing but strictly platonic. And yet...

Even when he puts his phone away, he can’t stop thinking about that picture. You must’ve sent it to him on accident. Why else would he get that picture?

His phone dings and he opens it, hoping it’s Jaemin asking him to play video games. Lord knows he needs the distraction.

It’s not.

It’s you again. The attachment is a video this time, and holy fuck. The video starts with a shot of your legs, a pair of matching blue panties that just barely cover your pussy. There’s a soft moan, and Jeno’s ears strain to pick up on it.

“I’m so wet for you.” You sigh, letting your fingers slip under the fabric. A gasp leaves you at the feeling and Jeno wishes that he could see what you’re doing, but the fabric blocks his view and he wishes that he could rip it off of you. “God, I wish you were here with me. You’d fuck me so well.”

You move your fingers up to the camera and fuck, you really weren’t lying when you said you were wet. The digits are glistening and Jeno audibly moans. He fucking ascends when you pop the digits in your mouth, moaning around them obscenely. The video ends and yet Jeno is too overwhelmed you process anything, just sits there with his phone in his hand and his eyes glued blankly to his wall.

He can’t stop the images from playing in his mind, but he manages to pull it together enough to come up with a response.

Jeno [11:53pm]

did you mean to send this to me?????

Roomie [11:54pm]

huh

OH HOLY FUCK

IM SO SORRY PLEASE DELETE THOSE

HOLY SHIT

Jeno [11:54pm]

haha it’s okay

i deleted them no worries

Roomie [11:54pm]

im so embarrassed right now

Jeno [11:55pm]

dont be

it happens to the best of us

can i come talk to you or do you need a minute to finish up

Roomie [11:56pm]

asjdhjsksj DID YOU HAVE TO PHRASE IT LIKE THAT

anyways yeah give me a min

Jeno wills his boner to go down and takes a few deep breaths, eventually standing from his chair and making his way down the hall. He bounces on his toes and checks the time. It’s been 3 minutes. Surely you’re ready now?

“Come in!” You yell when he knocks and he timidly lets himself in, shutting the door softly behind him. He can’t help but notice how adorable you look right now, wrapped so tightly in blankets that your face barely peaks out. Jeno notices the hoodie you’re swimming in is his, and it fills him with a strange sense of... something. Pride? Happiness?

“Hey.” He starts, standing awkwardly at the foot of your bed.

You take a moment before repeating the greeting. Neither of you know what to say and a horrible silence fills the room. Your laughter breaks it.

“This is so awkward, holy shit.” You giggle, breaking out of your cocoon a little bit. “I can’t even remember a time where it’s been this bad.”

“It was literally less awkward when we first met and that’s saying something.” Jeno snorts, taking a seat on the edge of the bed when you pat it.

The two of you laugh until it peters out into another silence. You clear your throat. “Uh. So about the, uh, pictures. I’m really sorry, I definitely didn’t mean to send them to you.”

Jeno laughs again, hoping that it doesn’t sound too strained. “Yeah, I kinda figured. It’s no big deal though, I already deleted them.”

“It’s not like I would send you nudes anyways, that’s stupid. I’d show you in person.” Jeno’s eyebrows nearly shoot off of his face with how high he raises them, a confused “huh?” leaving him. You laugh. “Y’know, because you’re right next door. Are you okay?”

He somewhat recovers. “Oh! Yeah, yeah, for sure. Face to face contact and all that.” His heart is still beating much too fast, his knee bouncing as he thinks about you showing up at his door in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a pout on your lips as you whisper that you’re so wet and that you need him to do something.

“Mhmm, exactly. Anyways, can we agree to forget about this?” You ask, and Jeno definitely won’t be forgetting about this anytime soon, but he nods anyways and murmurs an “of course”. You beam. “Cool! Are you gonna go to sleep? Because I was about to start a movie if you wanna join.”

Jeno shakes his head, the proximity driving him crazy. “I got an essay to write that is due,” He checks the clock. “9 minutes ago. Maybe another time?”

You open your arms and pull him in for a hug. “I’m holding you to that. Have fun writing your essay.”

He groans. “Oh yeah, the most fun.”

It’s when he gets past your door that you stop him. “Hey Jen?” He pauses, glances back, but doesn’t open the door to peek his head back into your room. “I’m glad it was you I sent the pictures to.”

He pretends like he doesn’t hear it, his mind already a jumbled mess.

The next few weeks are surprisingly not awkward. You both ignore it like you promised, going on with your routine as if it had never happened. Well, as much as possible, anyways.

Jeno is a young man in his prime. He has a very high sex drive. And yet, he hasn’t been able to jerk off in two weeks because every time he tries, he thinks of you. And the guilt that consumes him is always too much, so he ends up with a cold shower and a shit ton of frustration.

But two weeks is a long time to be pent up. So when you pop into his mind while he’s relaxing in bed, he can’t stop himself from grinding his hips down into the mattress. A little bit of relief turns into him humping the mattress like a dog, biting into his pillow to muffle his moans. You’re not home so he doesn’t really need to be quiet, but it’s a force of habit.

Your name still slips past his lips, and no matter how guilty he feels, he can’t stop. He groans your name and flips onto his back, wrapping his fist around his cock and nearly sobbing at how good it feels. His hips snap faster and faster into his hand and he’s so close, so fucking close-

“Jeno?” Your voice is too close to be a part of his imagination and it takes a moment for him to realize why.

His head snaps up and he makes eye contact with you, dread rushing through him. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t-“ He doesn’t finish, doesn’t know what he didn’t do, just yanks the covers up to protect the last bits of his dignity.

You swallow. “My class got cancelled. I uh, I heard you call my name and I didn’t realize that you were...” You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hand.

It’s bad, he knows, but he can’t stop himself from continuing to stroke himself at a torturous pace. He’s hidden from sight by the blanket and he grinds the heel of his palm into the head of his cock, biting his cheek so hard he tastes blood. It’s hurting more than it’s helping, and he knows it’s bad to keep doing it while talking to his roommate who he was just getting off to, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He grimaces, ready to try and talk himself out of it (or at least attempt to) when you continue. “Do you want help?”

Jeno’s eyes nearly fall out of his head and he hisses as he accidentally squeezes his cock too hard. You’re looking at your feet and maybe you’re just as embarrassed as he is.

“I mean, you’ve already seen my nudes. I wouldn’t mind, like, seeing yours too.” Jeno is hallucinating. There’s no way this is real. Shakily, he nods.

You move to sit down next to him, a little stiff, your eyes meeting his for a moment before flickering down over his torso. He jolts as you brush your fingertips along his arm, moving down the limb until you reach his hand, which is still fucking gripping his dick. You giggle when you realize that he’s been jerking off the whole time you’ve been in the room.

The covers are pulled down and your eyes widen briefly. Jeno’s self-conscious for half a second before you’re gasping out an “oh fuck, you’re big”. His ego inflates and he can’t stop himself from smiling.

“You must be close, yeah? Couldn’t stop touching yourself, even when I caught you.” Jeno groans, half in embarrassment, half in pleasure. You brush your fingers of the tip of his cock, just teasing around the head and his hips launch off the bed into your touch.

“Bet you were hoping I caught you. That’s why you were calling my name, isn’t it?” You lean close to brush your lips over his earlobe before moving down to leave wet kisses along his neck. He pants heavily, head tilting to give you more room.

Pleasure clouds his senses when you finally take pity on him, stroking his cock with a tight grip. “You’re the one who sent the pictures.” He pants out. There’s heat pooling his gut and he rolls his hips up into your grip, fucking into your hand.

“Aww, you liked them? Let me tell you a secret.” You move so that you’re straddling his thigh, leaning down to suck a hickey into his chest, and Jeno doesn’t miss the way your subtly rock your hips down. “I was thinking about you when I took them.”

That does it. Images of you picking out that lingerie with him in mind, posing and sucking on your fingers for him, touching yourself while imagining it’s him flash through his mind and it’s too much to handle. Jeno comes with a loud groan of your name, panting shallowly and digging his heels into the mattress. You work him through it, dragging out his pleasure until it’s almost too much and it starts to get painful. A loud whine leaves him and you laugh.

Jeno’s ears are ringing and his brain has turned to mush, so it takes him a while to realize that he’s got an arm locked around your body keeping you anchored to his chest. It also takes him a moment to notice how you grind down against his thigh, how you whimper and moan as you chase that bliss.

He just about comes again when he notices that you’ve got your fingers in your mouth, sucking and lapping at the digits to clean them of his come.

“Fuck,” He groans softly, tensing his thigh and pressing it up against you. “That feel good, baby?”

A hum leaves you, eyes opening to meet his own. You look thoroughly fucked out, sweat beading on your forehead, pupils blown wide with lust. “Yeah, I’m so close.”

Jeno’s hands move without him telling them to, grabbing your hips and pulling you down against his thigh harder, faster. He grips at your ass, loving the way it feels in his palm, and he brings one hand down softly. A slap sounds through the room and you keen, hips stuttering against him.

“Come on baby, let go.” His voice sounds utterly wrecked, deep and gravelly and what was supposed to be a casual phrase comes out as a command. You can’t do anything but moan in response, babbling out some variation of “please, please, I’m so close, I’m so- ohfuck.”

Your pace grows sloppy as you come, sobs leaving you as Jeno forces you to maintain a quick rhythm via his hands on your hips. Watching you fall apart is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He can’t tear his eyes away from you.

“Too much, I can’t- Jeno, I can’t-“ You shake and twitch on top of him and it fills him with satisfaction, seeing that he made you like this. He softens his hold, moving one hand up to your back and anchoring you to his chest. You bury your face into him with a sigh.

Jeno’s content to lay there and rub your back for a bit, maybe get some sleepy cuddles. But you push yourself up onto your forearms and disappointment fills him. He expects you to leave, expects things to be so unbearably awkward between the two of you that you have to move out, expects- well, anything except for the pair of lips pressing to his own.

The kiss takes him by surprise and he makes a muffled noise, taking a moment to coordinate himself enough to kiss back. You’re smiling into the kiss and it makes him smile too, his hand coming up to cup your jaw.

“So you sent me those nudes on purpose.” Jeno teases when you finally pull away, gasping for air. Your eyes widen before you’re shaking your head and giggling.

“No! I actually didn’t. They were meant for Mark, but I was thinking about you when I took them, so I guess my brain decided it would be a good idea to press your name.” You shuffle down a little bit so that your legs fit perfectly with his, limbs tangling together.

Jeno brushes your hair off of your forehead, stroking your scalp softly. You hum and melt into him. “Well, I guess you missed the mark on that one.”

It takes a moment for it to register but when it does, your head snaps up and you glare at him. “That was horrible, oh my God. I’m breaking up with you.”

“But we’re not dating?”

You turn shy, laughing and hiding your face. “Oh yeah. Well, would you maybe, uh, want to?”

Jeno can’t fight the smile that takes over his entire face as he looks at you. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I would love to.”

#nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #kpop smut #jeno imagines #jeno scenario #nct imagines

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thrillridesz · 4 years

Text

rsvp ▫ hyunjae

➳ pairing: frenemy!hyunjae x female reader ➳ genre: fluff ➳ word count: 1.4k ➳ warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, PG 15 ➳ requested?: no

a/n: this is written as a birthday special for our one and only tbz fried chicken lord, Hyunjae ^^ Happy Hyunjae Day everyone 🥳 please go shower him with lots of love and well wishes =)

i’m so sorry if this was trash, I kept rewriting this and i think i must have screwed it up big time but i hope you guys like it! this is also unedited.

If humiliation and shame got together to create a person, it’d be you. As you stood by the snack table, you wished with all your heart that you had never accepted Hyunjae’s birthday party invitation in the first place.

The house was abuzz with activity and a catchy song blared from The loudspeakers at the DJ’s stand as people swayed and popped to the beat. Balloons and party streamers decorated the room, the smell of alcohol and fruit punch permeated the air but nobody seemed too bothered by it for they were too busy living in the moment. Everyone, literally everyone had gotten out on a limb to dress well for the party of the year. The ladies were clad in their beautiful party dresses while guys were in their best tops, reeking of their musky cologne. Everyone was having fun, the sweat clinging to their necks in wet tendrils as they simply danced. The drinks in their hands sloshed messily but nobody care as they lived for the night.

Everyone but you.

You had shown up in a vampire costume with the works. Red contact lenses, the fangs and even the freakishly long fake fingernails that practically resembled claws. With everyone shooting you weird looks every now and then, you didn’t even dare look in the mirror. You are sure you must look like a complete fool. Either that, or you just looked like you’re attending the wrong party.

“Hey, Halloween’s next month.” A guy in a blue flannel with a cup of vodka in his hand hollered at you, laughing along with his friends at his own remark.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look up as the shame burned in your face, your grip on your cup getting tighter. The plastic crunched in your hand while you cursed silently under your breath.

“Fuck you, Hyunjae.”

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.” A voice whispered in your ear from behind, nearly causing you to spill your drink.

You turned to look behind you, only to come face to face with the birthday boy himself. You narrowed your eyes, eyes shining with anger.

“You.”

“Wow, no ‘Happy Birthday’? Not even a smile for the birthday boy? That’s kind of rude.” Hyunjae laughed, his grin only growing wider at the frown on your face.

“If you think I’m going to do either of those, you are sadly mistaken. You told me this was going to be a horror themed costume party!” You hissed, jabbing at his chest with your finger only to wince. How the hell is his chest so firm?

“Jesus, are you wearing a breastplate?”

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips, his eyes glittering with mischief and amusement.

“Is that a compliment?”

“No. As if I would want to feed onto your overinflated ego,” you rolled your eyes and Hyunjae clutched onto his heart, his face twisted into an expression of overexaggerated and highly dramaticised agony.

“Ouch. Right where it hurts.”

“Whatever. I’m done playing your game. You’ve successfully shamed me tonight. Congratulations. I’m going home.” You sighed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and just… Tired.

Why had you even bothered showing up? You should have known better than to trust Hyunjae. The two of you have been frenemies ever since the two of you could crawl. With your parents constantly comparing the two of you, it was normal to naturally forge a more competitive, rivalrous relationship between the two of you. On every single turn, Hyunjae had always tried to undermine you for as long as you could remember. From stupid pranks to just fighting for the extra credit just to maintain his lead over you, he had always wanted the upper hand.

Well, now he’s got it.

Hyunjae’s smile disappeared from his face, his eyebrows burrowing into a V shape in confusion as you turned to leave.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Look, you’ve won alright? Just… I’m tired so I’m going to go home first. Have a good birthday.”

It took you a split second to realise that he had latched his fingers over your wrist, pulling you back towards him as you fell backwards. Spinning you into his arms, you felt your breath hitch as you came chest to chest with Hyunjae. Looking up at him, you released a shaky breath when you noticed just how close he was to you, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. His eyes shone with an unexplainable passion as you felt his arms tighten round your waist.

“Hyunjae…”

As if shaking out of a spell, he quickly let you go, withdrawing his hands as if he was burned. You didn’t want to admit it but when you saw his reaction, part of you felt a twinge of disappointment.

“I… I’m really sorry I did that to you. Don’t go. At least stay for some cake.”

Was it just you or did it sound vaguely like he was actually pleading?

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.” You replied in a snide tone before storming out the door with Hyunjae hot on your heels.

“Wait!”

The party guests were starting to stare at the commotion unfolding between the two of you, some whispering and others shooting you looks of disapproval. It must be rather disconcerting on a lot of levels to see the birthday boy chasing after a particularly scary vampire with looks that could kill. The Hyunjae who has never had to chase after a girl is now doing so at his own birthday party? Did someone drug his drink?

“Y/n! Stop! This isn’t a romantic movie, stop being a brat and making me chase after you.” He panted.

How the fuck does someone run that fast in heels and in that ridiculous get up?

“It’s time you hit the gym then.” You called back, laughing at his pathetic plight, breaking out into a full sprint and running into the night.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Hyunjae screamed, forcing his legs forward.

“You... Are seriously unfit.” You chuckled mockingly as you watched Hyunjae lurch over, placing his hands on his knees, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh, shut up. It’s the alcohol getting to me.”

You laughed, the melodious sound of your voice floating in the peaceful night and you looked out over the horizon. Somehow, the two of you had managed to bring the direction of the chase all the way to the beach just downtown. The ocean waves crashed gently against the shore as the town lights from afar made it seem as though the two of you were far from civilisation, as if at that moment only the two of you existed in each other’s eyes.

You turned to Hyunjae. The moonlight against his glistening skin made him look almost ethereal, bringing out not just the clearness of his skin but also the brightness of his eyes. The white button down he wore clung to him from his sweat and you realised with a start how it showed off his defined body.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, you turned away and tried to ignore the burning sensation in your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. Before you could stop yourself, the question that had been lingering in your mind for almost the entire night was out of your mouth in an instant.

“Why even invite me today if you’re just going to humiliate me?”

Hyunjae looked up at you, slicking his hair back away from his eyes and you almost felt your heart did a flip when you saw the way he was looking at you. There was an unexplainable passion behind those dark orbs that always shined with a sort of youthful mirth and mischief. As he walked towards you, you felt like you were unable to move away. It was as if you were rooted to the ground and strangely, you didn’t feel like moving away but rather, you found yourself anticipating what was coming next.

Leaning forward, his face was so close such that if you were to move even an inch forward, the two of you would be locking lips. Your hands were starting to turn clammy from all your nerves as you held your breath in anticipation for what his next words.

“Because I get a kick out of seeing you suffer.” Hyunjae grinned, enjoying the annoyed expression on your face.

“Ugh, get a life.” You shoved him away, feeling ashamed that somewhere deep inside you, you had wished he would have said something else.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“If I told you the real reason, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” You asked, not even caring what his answer was as you trudged away.

“What if I asked you to come in a ridiculous costume because I didn’t want to have to any other guy hit you up at my birthday party?”

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Must Be the Whiskey | Jack Daniels x Reader

I got inspiration to write this from listening to a song of the same name. Though the lyrics had nothing to do with the idea I came up with 😂 a thank you to @scribbledghost for letting me tag them. I hope y'all enjoy! 🤠

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, dramatics, insinuations of sex, domesticity, light chaos

•••

“I cannot believe you did that!”

Jack was angry again. You had been joking but apparently he had taken it seriously.

“Hun, it’s not that big of a deal,” you said, still finding it funny, “It was just a joke.”

Jack took off his hat and tossed it on the nightstand next to your shared bed. “Well it wasn’t funny to me,” he argued. You made your way into the bathroom and began taking your makeup off. “You don’t flirt with another man while I’m sitting right next to you!”

You laughed, “Babe, I was not flirting you know that. I just wanted to try it.” You knew he wasn’t really mad, just annoyed and most likely he just wanted to fight with you.

“Well ya shouldn’t ‘ave, sugar. Now you got your old man riled up,” he replied. Jack ditched his jacket and his shoes, running his hands through his hair.

You giggled and stepped out of the bathroom, finding your fiance sitting on the end of the bed. “I can think of something to do with all that energy,” you hinted suggestively.

He pouted and looked at his lap. “I ain't in the mood.” You had to resist laughing at this grown man acting like a child over something so simple and innocent.

You kneeled in front of him and tilted his head up so his eyes met yours. "Jack, baby, it was only a drink."

"Yeah but it was the wrong drink, you should've gotten your usual, and you know it," he continued to pout. You smiled sympathetically, "I will from now on, I promise. Jim has got nothin' on you, cowboy."

Yes, Jack was angry because you had decided to get a Jim Beam instead of your usual Jack Daniels whiskey, at the bar. Ever since you met him three years ago, you hadn't drank any other whiskey except his namesake. You didn't know he would promptly flip his lid when you decided to try a different kind tonight. You were sure he was acting or playing up his anger for show. He was a very dramatic man. You realized just how much when he accused your liquid betrayal of being akin to unfaithfulness.

He sighed. "I just want you to know you hurt me, darlin'. Don't break a man's ego like that again, ya hear?" He smiled and booped your nose.

"Yes, sir," you winked. "Now, do I have to satisfy myself or do you still have all that energy?"

A devilish smirk came to his face and he hoisted you up to straddle his lap before falling backwards so you landed on his chest.

"Oof, yep, you still got the energy," you concluded. Jack kissed you like it was the last time he ever would, full of heat and passion. A kiss that was so very Jack.

"I love you, sweet pea. And I plan on showin' you just how much," he drawled. You giggled. It was going to be a long and delightfully tiring night.

~~~~

Jack woke up still feeling worn out. That's the price he paid for a good time with his lady. But it was worth it every time.

He begrudgingly lifted himself out of the comfy bed, sliding some sweatpants onto his bare body. He could hear you humming from the kitchen. Your mumbled melodies accompanied the smell of bacon and coffee, his favorites. He made his way into the kitchen, forgoing a shirt.

He found you exactly how he expected. You were standing at the stove stirring eggs in a pan, bacon was sizzling away on a different burner, and coffee was brewing on the other end of the counter. He watched you for a while, his eyes wandering up and down your body. You were wearing shorts and one of his shirts that was much too big on you. He approached quietly, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Morning, dear,” you greeted. You could barely hear his mumbled reply into your skin. “You hungry?” Jack nuzzled into your neck. “I don’t know, I had quite the feast last night, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a second helping,” he teased, nipping your neck and giving your ass a light squeeze. You giggled and tried to push his hands away from tickling you.

Jack loved hearing you laugh, it was one of his favorite sounds. He loved waking up to find you making him breakfast. There was something so domestic and peaceful about it. Sometimes he would sit and watch you, he found it fascinating how you could throw a few ingredients together and mold it into something completely different and delicious. He never got tired of watching you cook and bake. The only times he missed it was when you were called into work early or he left before you woke up. He smiled fondly at the memory of buying you an apron that said ‘kitchen wizard’ on it in big red letters, you always wore it when baking. Jack compared your baking to a form of art as complex and stunning as the canvas paintings you had strewn around the house.

You both worked at a reasonable time and were able to have breakfast together, chatting about the day's events and generally anything that came to mind. You and Jack parted ways with a kiss, Jack heading off to Statesman and you heading off to your day job.

~~~~

Jack got home before you and had been relaxing when he received a text from you asking him to come out into the driveway. He was confused but complied. He found you getting the groceries out of the trunk of your car.

“You need help there, sugar?” He asked.

“No. But I must prove something to you, Jack,” you said dramatically. Oh no. Jack knew that tone of voice, it was usually used to either tease him or make yourself sound like a dramatic theatre actor. In conclusion, it was never good, but always humorous, when you used that voice. “I have purchased something to prove to you how much I love you in a broad demonstration of questionable intellect,” you preached. Jack smiled and laughed. “What did you get, sweet pea. More lingerie? Because I haven’t gotten tired of the last set, ya know.”

“It’s worse,” you said. You reached into one of the bags and pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam whiskey. Holding it above your head, you took a few steps away from your car, standing not far away from Jack. “What are you doing with that?” He asked, only a little bit irked. “Allow me to demonstrate my love for you,” you announced, putting your other hand over your heart. At that, you released your grip on the bottle, sending it into the concrete with a loud smash, glass and liquor going everywhere.

Jack’s mouth dropped open. He wasn’t expecting you to do that. “Honey, what-”

“My love for you is no joke, Jack Daniels. I will love you till my dying day and will smash as many more bottles of that fowl name as I need to, should you ever doubt me.” You stood watching him, his reaction was funnier than you thought it would be, it had taken every ounce of self control in you to keep a straight face. You could feel your jeans were wet with alcohol and some bits of glass had caught in the bottom.

Jack sauntered over to you. “Darlin’, honey, sweet pea, love of my life,” he cupped your face in his hands, “Do you realize you just smashed a thirty dollar bottle of whiskey in our driveway?” You nodded, sincerity in your eyes. “Yes, I do realize. I wanted to prove to you that you are superior to anyone and everyone else, and I love you,” you beamed up at him. “You are truly somethin’ else,” he said, his smile warm and loving as he kissed your forehead. “Let’s clean this up and then have dinner.”

You helped Jack clean up the mess, sweeping the glass shards into a dustpan and washing away the liquid with a bucket of water. You made sure there was no more glass as you didn’t want any of it to get caught in the car tires. He helped you carry the groceries into the house and unpack them.

“I also got us actual drinks,” you said. Jack turned to see you holding a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a bottle of Statesman in the other. “How much did you spend on whiskey tonight, angel?” He asked, amused. “Only about eighty bucks,” you answered. Jack once again took his time walking over to you, “Sometimes I think you’re worse than me.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You have to think about that? I thought it was obvious,” you sassed. “Well alright, little missy, do I have to teach you not to speak out of turn again tonight or are we going to have dinner,” Jack sassed right back. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m quite hungry,” you giggled. “No time to lose then, sunshine. Let’s get cookin’.”

#kingsman the golden circle #jack whiskey daniels #jack whiskey daniels x reader #pedro pascal

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subbyyang · 3 years

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You don't have to say 'I love you' to say 'i love you' - Jin Ling/Zizhen/Sizhui/Jingyi [1/7]

Zizhen feels like he isn't special compared to his boyfriends and that he doesn't belong with them. He also doesn't notice all the little ways in which his boyfriends show him love.

Well, Jin Ling, Sizhui and Jingyi gladly try harder.

Fill for a prompt at the MDZS kink meme

Zizhen was tired. He was tired of this feeling growing deep in his chest for the last couple of weeks, maybe even longer. Thinking back, Zizhen realizes it might have always been there, festering inside him. He hated feeling like this but whenever he looked at Jin Ling, Sizhui and Jingyi, his boyfriends, walking side by side, laughing at some stupid thing Jingyi had said, he couldn’t help the feeling that he didn’t belong. He loved them - so much it physically hurt him to be away from them - and he was so grateful they had given him a chance to join their relationship but the fear that they would wake up one day and realize they didn’t want him anymore kept him up at night.

“A-Zhen?” Zizhen was pulled out of his thoughts by Sizhui’s soft hand holding onto his own. “Is there something wrong?"

Zizhen tried to smile reassuringly as he shook his head. Sizhui didn’t seem too convinced and he looked like he wanted to say something else but he decided to drop the subject when Zizhen squeezed his hand. They looked into each other’s eyes until a yell caught their attention.

“Senior Wei!” Jingyi yelled as he waved enthusiastically and took off running towards Wei Ying. Sizhui followed suit, letting go of Zizhen’s hand, causing the smile to fall from his face. Jin Ling didn’t seem to have noticed his mood or, if he did, he kept quiet about it as he pulled on Zizhen’s sleeve and walked the short distance to where Sizhui and Jingyi were talking to a tired looking Wei Wuxian.

“If it isn’t my lovely nephew!” Wei Ying said with an amused tone at Jin Ling’s fake displeased face. It had been nearly three years since he had come back from the dead and Jin Ling still liked to pretend he hated him. “And…huh, and the Ouyang boy. Ouyang…?”

“Zizhen, Senior Wei.” Zizhen said with a slight frown.

“Of course, I knew that! I was just testing you...” Wei Ying said unconvincingly, finishing the sentence with an awkward laugh.

“Testing me on my own name?”

“Yes” Wei Wuxian said matter-of-factly, purposefully ignoring the very real scowl Jin Ling was throwing his way.

Wei Ying bid the Juniors goodbye, claiming to have something important to take care of but Zizhen and his bruised ego weren’t paying attention anymore. He would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him that his sort of father in law (but also uncle in law? He tried not to think much about it) never seemed to remember his name, cementing the thought that he didn’t belong with the others.

“Don’t take it too personally, his memory was always terrible but with the baby it seems to be worse…” Jingyi tried to comfort a dejected looking Zizhen, one hand wrapped around his shoulder. Zizhen leaned against the touch, enjoying the warmth of Jingyi’s body next to him, oblivious to the fond look on Jingyi’s face. “Come on, let’s eat something. You were hungry before, right?”

Zizhen nodded slowly and let himself be pulled by Jingyi. Once again his eyes saddened when Jingyi dropped his shoulder. He wished he could always be in one of his boyfriends’ arms, always feeling warm and safe but, sadly, it didn’t happen much.

They sat together eating what Zizhen would consider the blandest meal he had ever had in his life. He liked being in the Cloud Recess, loved being close to Sizhui and Jingyi but the cuisine was something he would never get used to. He would never say it out loud though. He picked at his food as he watched Jin Ling and Jingyi quietly bickering back and forth while Sizhui stared lovingly at them, apparently not caring about the rule about eating in silence. They were beautiful. All of them. All of them special in their own distinct way and just being near them made Zizhen’s heart flutter.

“You’re distracted today…” Sizhui’s soft voice filtered through his ears, his hand laying on Zizhen’s arm, his brows slightly furrowed in concern.

“You have barely eaten, give it to me if you don’t want it!” Jingyi moved his arm towards Zizhen’s half eaten bowl, a surprised yelp leaving his lips when Jin Ling swatted his hand away.

“Eat your own food!” Jin Ling exclaimed before turning to Zizhen “Eat...don’t want you complaining about being hungry later”

Zizhen blushed at the tone of authority in Jin Ling’s voice, a warm feeling pooling deep in his stomach as he cast his eyes down and went back to eating in silence. He didn’t notice the worried glances his boyfriends shared between each other neither did he notice Jingyi’s hand twitching as he considered whether or not to grab onto Zizhen’s hand.

——

Zizhen sat alone near the cold spring, a poetry book in his hand as bunnies surrounded him. As much as he wanted to pay attention to the book, it was his favorite after all, he just couldn’t get the words to make sense, forcing him to read and reread the same line over and over again.

After lunch, he and Jin Ling were supposed to spend some time together, still having a couple of days before the Conference began, while the two Lans had their disciples’ training and classes to organize. But at the last minute Jin Ling had some sect business to attend to, leaving Zizhen to mope alone, missing his boyfriends. At least he had gotten an apologetic cheek kiss from Jin Ling, that type of affection unusual for his youngest boyfriend.

Putting his book down with a resigned sigh, Zizhen laid back on the grass, petting the bunnies closest to him, the air around him fresh and crisp. Sizhui had brought him there the first time he had visited the Cloud Recess after he had joined the relationship. Zizhen could still remember the expectant look on his face as Zizhen looked around in wonder. It had been a cold winter day, the ground tinged white from the morning’s snow. It was magical then and it was magical now.

Zizhen didn’t know how long he stayed near the spring, hoping Jin Ling would come back from whatever sect business he had to deal with, but the sun was starting to set and Zizhen’s back was starting to hurt so, with one last petting to each bunny, he got up to go look for Jingyi and Sizhui.

As he got closer to the training grounds he could see the disciples milling around, obviously finished with their training sessions for the day. Zizhen smiled brightly at the prospect of seeing his boyfriends, his heart thrumming inside his chest as he sped up his pace. His smile fell when he got to the grounds only to find it empty, no sign of Jingyi or Sizhui.

Zizhen walked around for a while and was about to give in and ask one of the many disciples where the others were when he saw his three boyfriends arriving. They seemed to be coming from the main gates, their hands filled with pouches and sweets. Had they gone into town? Zizhen could feel his heart tightening inside his chest at the sight of his three boyfriends having fun without him. Gusu and the Cloud Recess weren’t that close so it probably meant they had left in the beginning of the afternoon. He didn’t want to believe they would lie to him but it was understandable. He was nothing special compared to them, they probably just kept him around out of pity.

Zizhen turned around and left before any of them saw him, making an effort to not break the “no running” rule of the Lan sect as he quickly walked back to the guest room he was staying in, his cheeks wet with the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

Once in his room he went straight to bed, not worrying about taking his outer robes off or undoing his hair. All he wanted was for sleep to take over.

He must have succeeded in falling asleep since he was awoken by someone shaking his shoulder softly. It was dark out but he could still make out Jin Ling’s slim frame, his hand cold against his shoulder.

“We’ve been looking for you…” Jin Ling whispered as he kneeled on the floor besides Zizhen’s bed.

“It’s almost dinner time, are you coming with us?” another voice said softly. Sizhui. Zizhen turned towards the voice, his sleepy eyes focusing on Sizhui and Jingyi.

“Don’t feel too good, want to sleep…” Zizhen said, his eyes fluttering shut when he felt hands on his forehead checking for his temperature. He opened his eyes again to come face to face with Jingyi, his brows furrowed in worry as his hand slid from Zizhen’s forehead to his cheek.

“That’s alright, we’ll let you sleep, just let us help you get more comfortable…” Sizhui’s voice was calm and sweet as he pulled the covers from Zizhen’s body and started to untie his outer robes.

Zizhen was grateful for the dark that masked the flush of his cheeks when Jin Ling’s and Jingyi’s hands joined Sizhui’s in undressing him and removing his hair piece, letting his hair fall freely. He was embarrassed by how much he had enjoyed their touches. Not really how he imagined his boyfriends undressing him for the first time but he reckoned that’s the best he was gonna get.

“Now get some rest, we’ll be back later…” Jin Ling mumbled as he pushed Zizhen down on the bed and covered him again, making sure he was warm and snug. He hovered above Zizhen’s head, hesitating on whether to kiss his forehead or not, deciding against it at the last minute, petting his head instead.

With the ghost feeling of his boyfriends’ hands on his body, Zizhen fell asleep again.

——

“We’re heading to bed, it’s almost 9, are you coming with us?” Sizhui asked as he and Jingyi stood up, offering a hand to Jin Ling. They had decided to eat outside Sizhui and Jingyi’s room, the night more akin to a warm summer night than an early May one.

“Not tonight...want to stay with Zizhen”

“Okay, Young Mistress, make sure to take good care of our A-Zhen” Jingyi laughed as Jin Ling grew red and tried to swat at him only for Jingyi to grab his hand and pull their mouths together. Jin Ling melted into the kiss, before remembering they were outside and pulling away, wanting to hit Jingyi again for the stupid grin he had on his face.

“Goodnight, A-Ling. And give A-Zhen a goodnight kiss from us, okay?” Sizhui waited for Jin Ling to nod before leaving a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, smiling at the little pout that graced Jin Ling’s lips momentarily, before he schooled his face into a more neutral expression.

Jin Ling watched as the other two entered their room before turning around and heading back to the guest area. He smiled when he saw Fairy sitting protectively in front of Zizhen’s room, just where Jin Ling had told her to stay. Forsaking the idea of walking to his own room just on the left of Zizhen’s, Jin Ling quietly stepped into Zizhen’s room, Fairy in tow. As he got rid of his outer clothes, he couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips when his eyes landed on his sleeping boyfriend. His beautiful sleeping boyfriend.

Jin Ling walked over to the bed, leaning down so he could kiss Zizhen once on the forehead and once on his left cheek. Sizhui’s and Jingyi’s goodnight kisses. He hesitated for a couple of seconds before leaning down to leave one last kiss, this time to Zizhen’s soft lips. His own goodnight kiss.

He quickly lay down behind Zizhen, pulling his warm body onto his own.

“Shh, shh it’s me, go back to sleep…” Jin Ling whispered into Zizhen’s ears when he felt him stir.

Zizhen settled down, not once truly waking up from his sleep. Jin Ling instinctively wrapped an arm tighter around Zizhen’s waist, pulling him closer before letting himself drift off.

#zhuilingyizhen #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #ouyang zizhen #jin ling #the untamed #mdzs

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iconicstyles · 4 years

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I don’t know what to title this...but here’s some nerdy, sub Harry. Smut, oral, and not edited so go easy on me

You still couldn’t believe you convinced Harry to come to a frat party. Normally his ideal Friday night consisted of takeout from your favorite Mexican restaurant and a Netflix documentary. When you brought the party up to him you noticed his eyes narrow from behind his glasses. “Since when do you want to go to a party?” He asked.

“My roommate wants to go and she doesn’t want to go by herself. And since I know she will ditch me if she meets a guy I need you there.” Yes, you were being whiny but knowing Harry he wouldn’t be able to resist you.

He was fighting an internal battle but finally he sighed in defeat. “Fine, two hours and then you’re buying me food. And I get to pick the movie with no complaints.”

You eagerly agreed, wrapping your arms around him in glee. You felt him noticeably stiffen at your touch. For as long as you’ve known Harry you’ve been aware of his awkwardness around girls. It took forever for him to talk to you about anything other than school. When you first met him he was shy, when he did speak it was short sentences. You just refused to give up, probably bothered him a bit but he never said so. Now you were entering your senior years still going strong in your friendship, even if you did harbor stronger feelings for him, in secret of course.

It didn’t take long for your roommate to prove you right. Minutes after arriving to Kappa house your roommate disappeared into the crowd. “Told you.” You frowned to Harry who just nodded his head.

Instead of letting him convince you to leave early you decided to drag him into the living room to the makeshift dance floor. At first it was just casual shuffling but then when the music grew louder and playing songs you enjoyed. You found yourself dancing your heart out, moving your hands through your hair and swinging your hips. You were completely sober, usually you needed a few drinks to really tap into your dance skills. To your surprise Harry danced along with you. You weren’t sure what the song was but it was slightly slower and sensual. Before you knew it your back was pressed against Harry’s chest. He just kept surprising you, he wasn’t awkward at all when it came to your ass rolling against his crotch. Instead his hands found your hips moving you against him. Turning your head you noticed his head leaning down to your shoulder, his lips barely brushing over your skin. When you saw him bite his bottom lip you knew exactly what was happening.

Pressing yourself further against him she felt it. He was hard, rock hard inside his jeans. He must have noticed your attention to it too because he slowly backed away. “Sorry.” Now he was embarrassed.

Funny enough you thought it was cute. “Harry, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He was deliberately trying to avoid eye contact with you. He was even trying to move his hips in a way so you couldn’t see his erection. “Can we just ignore it?”

Before he could fight you on it you grabbed his hand to lead him through the crowd. The best part of the party being at a frat house? You knew there would be empty rooms upstairs. Some were already occupied, probably other college students doing the exact activity you had in mind. When you found an empty room you quickly took advantage, pulling Harry inside and closing the door. He seemed nervous now that you were alone. His palms ran over his jeans, his lips in a firm line. Sensing you were going to have to take the lead here you gently pushed him down on the bed. “Harry, relax.” You whispered, straddling his lap.

“I have a gorgeous woman on my lap.” Harry whined, his hands remaining on the bed by his thighs. “Doesn’t really happen that often.”

“You’re really helping my ego here.” You giggled, pressing her lips to his neck. “You seemed so confident on the dance floor.”

Harry actually chuckled, his chest rumbling. “That was before you got me hard in front of all those people.”

“Well since I was the one that did it...I should help you take care of it.” You whispered slowly climbing off his lap before moving to your knees.

“Wait, wait, no you don’t. You don’t have to.”

“Harry, relax.” You repeated, your hands already reaching for his belt buckle.

You expected him to put up more of a fight, if in fact he didn’t want this. Instead you thought he was just in shock that it was actually happening. With his help you pushed his jeans down to his ankles leaving him in a pair of black briefs. The noticeable tent made you smile while Harry was just blushing. He was trying his best not to look you in the eye as you palmed his erection over his briefs. Slightly squeezing him you noticed him bite his lip trying to contain a groan. His hands were fisting the sheets as if he was afraid to touch you. “Can I make you feel good, Harry?” You whispered. “You want me to make you feel good?”

His mouth opened and closed, trying to process everything going on around him. This beautiful girl was on her knees in front of him asking if she could suck his dick? Was he dreaming? These sort of things have never happened to him in his life. “God, please.” He was begging now.

With his help they pushed his briefs down his thighs. The sight of his cock for the first time was a pleasant surprise to you. You knew he was big, you could tell as much when he was pressed up against you when they were dancing. Seeing it with no barrier in front of you was practically making your mouth water. He was big, well groomed but not too much, perfectly pink with the head of him swollen and leaking with pre-cum. Taking your hand you ran your thumb over the slit of him almost shocking his system. His hips jumped slightly in surprise and you didn’t miss the curse leaving his mouth. Leaning your elbows on his thighs you teasingly moved your hand over his length. “You thought about this baby? You thought about playing with your cock?” You asked.

Just you lightly jerking him off was leaving him to putty in your hands. You didn’t want him to cum too soon but you wanted him to be involved with you. Squeezing him lightly you spoke up. “Answer me, Harry. Have you thought about this?”

“Fuck! Yes, I have.” He groaned.

“Good boy.” You replied, leaning forward to lick the entire length of him. “I’ve thought about it too.”

Harry opened his eyes a bit to look down at you. You were looking at his prick like you were mesmerized by it. Biting your bottom lip you ran your hand over it a few more times before sucking the tip of him into your mouth. This was really happening. You knew you had to go slow though. “I’ve thought about it at night, thought about how you taste.” You muttered.

“And what do you think?” He asked, his voice shaking.

“I think it’s fucking amazing.” You told him before bringing your mouth over his length.

You were already addicted to his taste. Your tongue ran along the bottom of his cock before taking more of him in. Your mouth was warm and wet around him. From above you could hear how shallow his breathing was as you lightly sucked him. Whatever you couldn’t reach with your mouth you used your hands to work him over. He wasn’t even aware of his surroundings, anyone could walk in and he wouldn’t care. All he could focus on was you, how you felt and what you were doing to him. Your tongue was constantly moving against his dick.

Bringing your head up you noticed his hands still hadn’t moved from the bed. He seemed almost afraid to do anything that he thought could hurt you. “Harry, you can touch me.”

“I-I didn’t know...I don’t know what to do.”

Grabbing one of his hands he gently placed it on your head. “Play with my hair, do whatever you feel is right.” You told him.

His hand fisted your hair, tangling in your thick locks. Now that he seemed more relaxed you went back to work. Gripping his thighs you only used your mouth over him. Your nails dug into his skin as you lowered fully until you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. “Oh, fuck.” He groaned.

Tilting his head back he used his hand to bring you up and down. You could hear his moans growing louder, along with soft cries of your name. He was leaning back completely at your mercy. Pushing his shirt up you noticed his stomach clench, you only wished you had gotten him completely naked so you could see his entire body. ‘Next time.’ You thought.

Relaxing your jaw you were able to take more of him into your mouth. You knew he was close and now all you wanted was to taste him. Moving your hands and your mouth you brought him over the edge until he was practically jumping off the bed. With a loud groan of her name he came in your mouth. You sucked him as he came, his seed exploding in your mouth and you weren’t about to waste any of it. Slowly you released his prick with care, knowing how sensitive he was. Harry fell back on the bed, running his hands over his face. “Holy shit.” He whispered.

Climbing onto the bed beside him you gently kissed his cheek. “You still with me?”

You watched his chest rise and fall as he tried to catch his breath. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

Giggling to yourself you watched him collect himself. Just as he was about to say something a loud pounding on the door interrupted him. “Hey! This is my room!” A voice yelled.

“Oh shit.” You and Harry muttered.

Harry quickly jumped up to pull his briefs and pants back up. Just as he was buttoning his pants you opened the door to an angry frat boy. “Sorry.” You smiled as sweetly as she could.

“Whatever.” He snapped pushing past both of them to his room with a slam of the door.

In the privacy of the hallway you turned to Harry and couldn’t stop the giggles coming from your mouths. “I can’t believe we just did that.” He mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Pushing him against the wall you lightly bit his bottom lip. “Just wait, baby.”

Smirking to yourself you walked off leaving him with a stunned expression on his face. “I’m in trouble.” He whispered before following you.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #my writing #nerdy harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years

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Reader x Nobunaga Oda {IkeSen} - Public Claim

Title: Public Claim Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Character: Nobunaga Oda Genre: wink Warnings: ;) Kinks: public sex, internal cumshot, banter, promise of future sex, possessiveness Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience Word Count: 2000 words POV: second person Written by: @mythiica Other comments: kinky

Nobunaga insists on leaving the castle for a few hours just to explore for a bit. Stretch our legs, he so casually jokes, alluding to the long night of heated activities the two of you participated in. You, with muscles sore like never before, leap at the opportunity to look for new fabrics and spend a wonderful afternoon with your lover.

He smiles and extends his hand, pulling you up from the futon. His other and goes to the small of your back to support you gently. There is a tenderness to his touch that makes you melt once more, just as you had hours earlier.

“Do you think I will find new prints to make a new kimono?” you glance over at the dress you had been wearing, but it lies in a torn pile at the corner of the room. “Maybe I’ll try to save this one…”

“Are you sad I ripped it?”

“Only a bit. I did urge you to take it off as soon as possible.”

Nobunaga fetches a new outfit for you and helps you tie the obi in the front. “True…” Once a knot is securely tied, he brushes your hair back and kisses the purple flower on your skin. “I’ll try to be more gentle next time, alright?”

“You said that last week, and look where we are now,” you muse, covering your cheeks to hide your blush.

Ushering you outside, Nobunaga laces his fingers with you. “Are we really going to play this game? I-said and you-said?”

You bat your eyelashes at Nobunaga with a bright grin. “Well. You did say it. I’m just reminding you!”

The warlord rolls his tongue over his bottom lip and tucks a hand under your legs, lifting you into the air. “I also remember saying I’d find a pleasurable way to quiet you if you misbehaved. Shall we return to our room, or continue out?”

Even though you try to squirm out of his grip, Nobunaga holds on tightly and keeps you from falling. “Mercy! Alright… you’ve won. We’ll go look around and return in time for dinner.”

He sets you down and offers you a swift kiss before leading you towards the stables to fetch your horses. The ride to the main market is short, especially considering you try to race him there. Nobunaga wins (as he usually does) but acts like a gentleman and offers you a hand in dismounting the horse.

After strolling through the rows of shops, you naturally migrate towards the fabrics on display. The bright colors attract you, and you run your hand over the silken material, looking for patterns that speak to you. If you could, you would get a few yards of each design, but you don’t have the room to store it all.

You pass from stall to stall and finally settle on a bright red embroidered fabric that would make for a wonderful kimono. Furthermore, considering that his birthday would be arriving soon, you purchase enough to make an elaborate outfit for him. There would be enough from scraps to make a matching haori for yourself, so you make sure to hide the print in a small bag.

Nobunaga is taking shots with a vassal in one of the bars down the road, and you are not surprised to find him also eating fresh konpeito.

“Look!” He holds up his glass to show you a few dissolved candies at the bottom of his cup. “What a brilliant idea, to soak the konpeito in the alcohol, we must try this when we get home. Do you think Masamune has tried this before?”

“We can surely ask when we return. It is getting late though, shall we go?”

Nobunaga finishes his drink before leaving a few gold coins on the table. It is more than enough to cover his tab, but he smiles happily at the owner of the tavern and wishes him a good day. Benevolent Nobunaga always makes you happy, so you extend your hand and lead him through the tables to the street.

He stumbles over the edge of his clothes, and your hand accidentally dips into a hole through the back of his obi. It tickles, and Nobunaga lets out a rough laugh. “We’re in public, you know,” he whispers, drawing close to you. His breath is hot and heavy from the liquor, and you make the mistake of teasing him back.

“It’s not my fault you have a hole back here!”

“Surely it’s a hole you made when oh clawed at my clothes last night, begging me to take you…” Nobunaga hooks his finger in the knot of your own obi and pulls you into an alleyway. Your body is flush against his and he takes the bag from your hands, letting it drop on top of a crate. “You were so wonderful last night, I shouldn’t have let us leave…”

The next moment, you feel his lips against your neck, tracing the bruises he left, and you let out a small yelp. No one is around to say anything, but you press your hand to his chest. “You want to do this here? Now?!”

Nobunaga’s hands are already up your skirt, and that should be enough of an answer. It isn’t the first time he’s gotten greedy in public before, but considering the night the two of you just had, you thought Nobunaga would want to take some time to recover. Or was this all a ploy to enjoy you outside?

Growling back, you nip Nobunaga’s jaw and rest your leg at his side. “Nobunaga Oda, you thought about this the moment we woke up this morning, didn’t you?”

“So I’ve been found out,” he admits, raising his hands innocently. “Do you mind?”

Your panties are already around your ankles, so even if you did, it would be too late to go back on your words now. “No, but you’ll have to be quiet if you don’t want to be found out by your friends inside the bar.”

Nobunaga tosses his head back and chuckles at your comment. “I should be saying the same to you, no? Or did you lose your voice last night…?” His fingers slip through the slit in your kimono, and he pushes it back enough to reveal your thighs. He does the same to his own clothes, but spins you around to push you flush to the wall.

The boxes to your left and right provide enough cover that you don’t have to worry about being caught, but it is exhilarating none the less. Nobunaga has a flair for doing things out of the norm, and you rather like that he’s caught you off guard with this. Wetness is already pooling between your legs, and when Nobunaga wedges his knee there to grind against you, he smirks joyfully.

“We’ll be fast, then return in time for dinner, just like you said, no?”

“Shut up and do it already, don’t start with your antics and tease me now.”

But he continues and brushes his fingers over the swell of your breast, still clad with silk. “I’m just reminding you.”

You cup his face and kiss the smirk off of his lips. The harder you grind against his leg, the more pronounced the bulge against his kimono grows. Matching his speed, you pull back the fabric enough to expose Nobunaga’s length, but you do not see it for long before he enters you. A low hiss escapes your throat, so Nobuanga keeps his forearms pressed against the wall to keep you hidden.

“If you’re going to remind me about anything,” you mewl as he starts thrusting, “remind me of your promise last night. How you said you wouldn’t let anyone else see me like this!”

“Are you trying to be cute with me?”

“Perhaps.”

Nobunaga tilts his hips up more and drops your foot on one of the crates so that he can maneuver you with ease. Large hands sweep over your body before returning to their place at either side of your head, limiting your vision to what is in front of you: Nobunaga.

“No one can see you, trust in that. I wouldn’t allow it.” He grunts and uses all of his stamina to bring the both of you closer to climaxing. “I’ll shield you with my body.”

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull his face even closer to yours. His nose brushes against your lips, and Nobunaga nuzzles against you before tucking a hand under your thighs as you slip down the wall. With his other hand, he grips one of the boxes to hold on.

“You’re so wonderful for doing that,” you say to appeal to his ego. “I can already feel you tensing against me. Am I that good, or are you desperate to cum again?”

He grunts painfully and digs his fingertips into your flesh, pushing you down further until he’s on his knees. The boxes are taller than the two of you now, so he does not have to worry about being seen. Instead, he uses his palms to frisk you, pressing against your nipples to feel if they’re hard.

Nobunaga is tempted to tug them open, but he opts better for pressing his weight into you with every thrust. “Y-Yes,” he pants. “You’ll be mine no matter where we are, in public or in private.”

You hear the voices of people passing the alleyway. Maybe someone looks in for a moment, curious to know why they hear the echoes of moans and skin slapping skin, but they walk by without lingering.

“Yes, I’ll be yours…”

He buries his face in your neck, teeth grinding against your jaw to leave a fresh hickey. You tense your muscles, fighting against the mellow ache, and drag your nails up across his shoulder blades.

“N-Nobunaga–”

A string of curses falls from his lips, but that’s all he needs to hear before he cums, this time inside of you as to not leave evidence. The surge of warmth sends your toes curling and head back against the wall. Your lips form an ‘o’ of pleasure as you orgasm with his seed inside of you. He stays like that until he’s given you everything he has, but even then Nobunaga wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to protect you.

Your heart continues to thunder in your ears, and you cannot hear properly.

“W-What?”

“I said we should likely head back, I want to do more to you–”

You don’t know where he gets the energy to do so, but you kiss Nobunaga gently and brush beads of sweat away from his forehead. “More? Are you sure?”

His lips kiss every spot of skin he can reach. “Yes.”

Standing up slowly, you fold your kimono back to its place and fix the top half. Nobunaga does the same, though less successful because the hole in his obi is beyond noticeable now. Your finger must have found it and tore it open, but considering you will make him a new outfit soon, you decide it will be alright. He hesitates leaving when you grab his wrist.

“Let me fix your hair,” you say slowly, trying to stall so you can catch your breath.

Nobunaga smiles and nuzzles against your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks, pulling out the knots you left.

“Does it really matter? It’ll look a fine mess soon enough.”

“My are you feisty!”

Nobunaga offers you the bag of fabric before leading you down the other side of the alley. “To be fair, you admitted you’d be mine. I want to celebrate.” He gives you a bright smile and keeps you close, heat of his body radiating outwards to envelop you.

Keeping your hand in his, you make a run for the horses, dragging him behind you. “Then celebrate we shall.”

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga oda #ikesen x reader #nobunaga oda x reader #cybird #otome

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 166

166

Waking up in the stupidly early hours of the morning, Lance crept around his house as secretly as he could. The shock of not waking up to Keith was shoved aside by the dire need to pee, then throw up. Hearing far too much, when he was far too sleepy, Lance knew he should have tried not to listen to Shiro and Keith as they bickered while painting the nursery. He couldn’t deny part of it was to distract himself from how much he hated throwing up and wanted to concentrate on something much more happier than the wet hacking noises he was making. Painting the nursery was supposed to be his and Keith’s job, yet Shiro sorely needed Keith time and Keith most definitely needed time with his brother, so he could forgive the pair of idiots for painting in the middle of the night.

Creeping along the hallway, he muffled a curse as he tripped on one of the boxes from the nursery, still his movements until he was sure neither brother had noticed. For someone who knew he really should leave the pair alone, he also totally wanted to spy on them and make sure they were doing a good job... Inch by inch the vampire made his way to the open door. Judging by the music playing, Shiro had gotten his way as the songs were all from his youth, not Keith’s.

Peaking around the corner, Lance smiled at the sight of the pair of idiots. Keith was up on Shiro’s shoulders, trying to cover up the mess they’d made of the top moulding. Shiro directed by Keith as he painted. Lance half wished they had surveillance in the nursery because the pair of them were being too damn cute. They’d painted the three walls, leaving the space Lance would have to cut out free enough that it wouldn’t look awkward when the spot was painted to hide the repair. They made such a good team. Shiro had painted down his face again, but he was smiling happily as he teased Keith over dribbling, asking if he needed a bib.

Laughing hard at his brother, Keith nearly fell off Shiro’s shoulders, Lance moving instinctively to catch him, stopping himself a couple of steps into the nursery. Fuck. He’d messed up. He was supposed to be spying, not interrupting

“Lance?”

Preoccupied with not sticking the paintbrush in Shiro’s hair, Keith dropped it as his head snapped up. His boyfriend looked very much like a deer in the headlights as he swallowed hard, before almost nervously starting

“I can explain...”

Lance held his hands up. He wasn’t trying to ruin the moment, not anymore than he had done

“Sorry, I heard the music and saw the light on”

“Oh... Me and Shiro were...”

“Painting the nursery. I noticed. Don’t stop on my account”

Keith slid himself down Shiro’s back, Lance kicking himself for acting without thinking

“I’m not... I mean...”

His boyfriend was attempting to apologise. Lance wasn’t having it

“Babe, seriously, it’s fine. I’m going to head back to bed, you two don’t let me stop you”

“I mean... are you sure?”

“You’re the one who said I was in charge of the back wall, I totally trust you guys. Plus, you haven’t done a bad job”

Shiro cleared his throat

“I didn’t mean to upset you. If you’d really rather...”

Oh Lordy, not Shiro too

“Guys, not mad at all. I was up anyway, and now I’m going to be down again. Gotta try fit in some sleep before I have to pee again. Take your time, just don’t go falling off Shiro’s shoulders. I don’t have workers comp for improvised ladders made from older brothers. Hell, I don’t have workers comp at all”

Both brothers relaxed, Lance waving them goodbye as he headed back to his room. He could hear them discussing whether to continue or not, hoping they would and that Keith would drag him off to see the job they’d done in the morning. When he’d lived alone it wasn’t unusual for him to paint or remodel in the middle of the night when the whim took him. Keith was working hard to be a good dad, but to Lance, his boyfriend already was. The vampire hoped that his boyfriend knew he appreciated everything he did for the three of them, though maybe he’d make extra sure between the sheets come morning.

Keith and Shiro didn’t sleep. Lance woke to find Keith’s side of their bed empty, more than once as he got up to pee then go back to bed. When it rolled around to being a semi decent time to climb up, he’d found both brothers conked out in the nursery. Keith asleep with his head on Shiro’s shoulder, paint rollers laying next to them. Carefully he lifted Shiro first, finding him much heavier than he thought he be as he carried him to his and Keith’s bed, because he knew his boyfriend would freak about him trying to carry Shiro downstairs. Coming back for Keith, he tucked both brothers in next to each other, then set the alarm on his phone for lunch time. Keith had roused a little in his arms, Lance stealing a kiss before assuring him he loved him and he needed a few hours of proper sleep.

Being the earliest riser came with one severe disadvantage. No body was awake to tell him not to go where he’d find something he really didn’t want to see. His kitchen looked as if a bomb had gone off. Blood smeared across the table and counters, his medication bottles smashed in the sink. Glasses randomly placed around the space, the window open, plates broke on the counter. The smell of so much blood sent his ego into overdrive as Lance held his stomach, gutted at the sight before him. Blue was shut in a cupboard, meowing mournfully until Lance gathered her out and into his arms. He’d checked on his way past the living room. Curtis seemed asleep, totally dead to the world and like there was no way he could have possibly been responsible for the mess. Lance couldn’t even try to blame it on raccoons, there weren’t any in the area, and Curtis’s scent hung so strongly in the air.

How was he supposed to tell Curtis? Curtis was one of his best friends. He wanted everything to appear as normal as possibly, but what he’d woken up to left him crying as Blue to tried to escape his tears. He couldn’t deal with everything and have everything appearing normal by the time the others woke. Rieva and Matt would both be mad. Rieva probably madder than he’d ever seen her before. She’d taken on her own role as his protector. Her seeing the destruction caused would send her ego into a fit of rage he honestly feared. His best boy Kosmo hadn’t come to greet him, leaving him with a terrible fear something had been done to him.

Creeping into Matt and Rieva’s room, relief flooded him when he found Kosmo sleeping on the end of the bed. His fur son thudding his tail as he whined at him. Yeah. He got it. Curtis had accidentally scared their fur babies. For now it was safer to leave Kosmo there and Blue with him, despite not wanting to let his precious princess go. Placing Blue down, she let out a “rowr” as she raced across the floor then leapt light on the bed, immediately bunting into Kosmo’s boof head, happy to be reunited with her doggo. Closing the door almost silently, Lance kept his steps light, feeling like an intruder in his own home as he headed to his office.

Krolia had left the door unlocked, making access easy. Slipping into the room, Lance didn’t want to disturb her, but right now he needed someone vaguely more adult than him. His Mami had covered up plenty of times he’d lost his temper thanks to his ego, or thrown up in fear, or had torn through his room to make sure nothing bad was hiding in the shadows. Curtis wasn’t his child, yet he knew how broken hearted he’d be. Maybe acting like nothing was wrong was the wrong move? All he wanted to do was be a good friend.

Shaking Krolia’s shoulder, Krolia roused easily. Lance jumping back as the woman clutched at her chest

“Holy fuck! Jesus, Lance... you scared the shit out of me”

“I’m sorry... Krolia, I need your help... I think I fucked up”

For a woman who’d just been shaken away and given a miniature heart attack as she was, Krolia was a zillion times better at waking up than Keith was. Instantly alert, she pushed back the blankets

“Lance, are you okay?”

There didn’t seem to be the right word to describe how unokay he felt. Her asking served to make him cry harder. The majority of his medication was ruined. He only had what was upstairs now, or what he’d left in his office.

Moving from the single bed, Krolia wrapped her arm around him

“Whoa. You need to calm down... Whatever happened to make you so upset? Here, sit down and tell me”

Lance shook his head. If he sat he’d only risk the chance of Curtis getting up for a glass of water and seeing the carnage

“Can you come with me?”

“Ive got to be honest, I’d rather you sit. You’re kind of scaring me”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who to ask and I need help right now”

“Is it the twins? Are you in pain?”

“It’s not... it’s easier to show you”

“Okay, lead the way”

Returning to the kitchen, Krolia stalled in the doorway as Lance walked back into his messed up kitchen. Having been in there before, he didn’t think to check the floor, discovering the hard way that there were shattered bottles on the floor too. Whimpering at the unexpected pain, Krolia was by his side in a moment, pulling out the closest chair to force him to sit. Dropping a kiss on the top of his head, for a moment it felt like his Mami was the one there coming to his rescue

“Stay here and don’t move. I’ll get my boots. Here, put this against your foot to stem the bleeding. Can you feel if there’s any glass still in there?”

“I think it is”

Taking the tea towel from Krolia, Lance was thankful that he remained pretty flexible despite the lack of yoga he’d done of late. Pulling out the base of a broken vial from his foot, he threw it into the sink to join the rest before holding the tea towel over the wound. He’d have to tell Shiro about this. Shiro would be devastated too. Matt and Rieva must have had their noise cancelling headphones on and missed the sounds. He had no excuse. There’d been a time when the smallest sound would have woken him. Sleeping in a bed filled with Keith’s scent calmed his ego too much, now this was the price of it. To tell Shiro felt likes betrayal. He felt like that kid running to a teacher to dob in another kid over something that had happened some time ago.

When Krolia came back, she draped one of the blankets from his bed over his shaking shoulders. The tears wouldn’t stop. His foot seemed a far cry pain wise when it came to the emotional pain he felt. His house was his haven. His safe place. A place he filled with love. Three times in the last 24 hours had that been disturbed, all by Curtis who couldn’t even help it. Things well and truly sucked. He needed to get up and help Krolia, but all he wanted to do was cry over the unfairness of the situation

“I’ll start by sweeping the floor. Can I get you anything?”

“I should help”

“I’m not letting you help when you’re in no condition. I know you’ve had complications. For now you should work on settling your emotions”

Krolia was right. He knew his fangs were poking out and his nails clawed. She was right in all the ways he needed right now

“Can... would you maybe please make me a cup of tea?”

Krolia’s skills in the kitchen didn’t exist. He knew that, yet it wasn’t like she could go wrong. Mami always settled him down with a cup of tea. The liquid itself coming second to its scent, a scent he’d always associate with Coran and his mother

“I can do that. You’ll have to tell me how you like it”

“White, one sugar, please”

“Okay”

There was more to that reply that went unsaid. Krolia would call Coran once the evidence was dealt with. He’d need to ask for more medication. Lance knew he was leaking pheromones all over the place, that the stress was bad for the pregnancy, yet Krolia didn’t seem to scent him. Keith would have been able to tell in an instant something was wrong from his scent alone. His body felt slightly flushed, but the deep heavy depressed feeling of the situation seemed the be currently squashing down those particular needs for now. Maybe he should be the one to call Coran? To explain things from his point of view so Coran wouldn’t be too harsh on Curtis. No. Coran wouldn’t be too hard on Curtis. Coran had probably seen so much worse in his long, long, life. His life and the life’s of their friends was probably just a drop in the ocean compared to everything Coran had done in his time.

“Here’s your tea. I’m starting to feel like a real mum. First Keith, and now you”

Krolia seemed pleased as she passed Lance his tea, he’d been so in his head he’d barely noticed her make it

“You talked to Keith?”

“A bit. He was angsting over how to wake Shiro to talk to him”

Lance stared down at his tea. Krolia had put the milk straight in so the colour was a sad off white. Still, he appreciated it as he breathed in deeply trying to focus on the scent of the tea instead of the blood

“Oh. Yeah. He does that. He still says he’s bad with words... he’s really not. He’s just carrying the trauma still of when people dismissed him without listening. Sometimes he doesn’t know just how much he says with the things he doesn’t say”

“He told me I wasn’t making sense”

Lance could imagine. By default Krolia was quite brash, though she did have her secretive ways about her

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t... I mean, I could have cleaned this place up, but... Did I do the right thing? Not making a fuss? Or did I hurt Curtis more by downplaying it”

Krolia hummed as she looked around at the mess

“You were trying to help a friend”

“I know. He did so much for me. He’s done so much for me. He tried to stand up protect me... I hate that he... that he probably hates himself so much right now. I know what it’s like to lose control of your body, but my pain isn’t his and I can’t understand his pain. It’s funny. I spent years alone. In the past this wouldn’t have bothered me. I would have cleaned it up and not said anything to anyone. I don’t know how to explain to Keith that I’m nearly out of medication again”

“He’ll understand. He’s very understanding when it comes to you”

“I know. I know I burden him by being like this”

“Keith would be sad to hear that”

“I know that too. I mean, I know being a carer is hard. Watching the person you care for change more and more each day”

“Things well get better. I remember how hormonal I felt when pregnant with Keith. The worries of bring him into this world. The worries over my limitation of what I could do to protect him. His father was a mess. The slightest pain or discomfort and he panicked”

Lance snorted with a shake of his head. Like father like son. He loved Keith beyond measurable amounts and words. A single touch could settle his thoughts. A single smile left him all goopy inside. Absolutely anything Keith wanted, Lance wanted to be the one to give it to him. He wanted to continue to grow beside Keith. To nurture their relationship and grow with him. To face all the good and bad times together. He was now hiding one of those bad times from him. Keith needed rest, obviously. Falling asleep with Shiro beside him, the two must have had a good talk. If he told Keith later, he’d be upset he didn’t come to him right away, like how he hadn’t called when his sisters came to see him. The movies never showed how hard being with someone and planning to be with them forever was. Keith would get all moody when Lance pointed out that he needed the rest.

“Krolia, I’ll be back in a minute”

He couldn’t hide this from Keith. Keith needed to know that Lance knew he could turn to him, no matter the situation. Shiro really needed Keith’s support right now, and it’d be better for Keith to know the truth before they told Shiro

“Okay, but before you go, where’s the broom?”

“In the laundry. The dust pan is there too”

“Alrighty. You leave this to me. Wow, I even sound like a proper mother”

Krolia was a proper mother in her own way. She was certainly filling in the gaps of longing for maternal comfort after Mami passed in her own special Krolia way

“You are a proper mother. I won’t be too long”

Trudging up the stairs, Lance cursed them mentally. Today there seemed to be twice as many as there actually were, his back complaining as he straightened up, before promptly half slouching, trying to find that sweet spot where his muscles didn’t want to spasm. Yeah, he was round for his weekage. He felt he seemed rounder than Google showed he should be, but as long as that wasn’t hurting the twins he’d have to bare with it. Shuffling to his room, he found Keith and Shiro where he’d left them. Anxiety over what to say bubbled up, but now he’d made his mind up to tell Keith, he couldn’t turn and head back down those damn stairs empty handed.

Opting to sit on the bed next to his boyfriend, Lance stole a kiss. Keith looked so peaceful, adding to the guilt he already felt about waking him. Opting against shaking him awake and making him panic, Lance nuzzled into Keith’s cheek, pressing kisses to the soft skin brushing against his lips

“Babe, babe, I need you to wake up for me”

Keith was horrible at waking up, unless he either woke up naturally or he woke up with Lance straddling his lap for morning kisses and something more if they were in the mood

“Babe, please. I need you to wake up now”

Nosing a little harder, his boyfriend groaned at him sleepily

“Keith, I need you to wake up for me”

“Sleeeping”

“I know. I know but I need you to get up like right now”

The next groan Keith gave had no English translation

“I know. I need your help”

That seemed to work. Confused purple eyes squinting at him as Lance pulled back enough that Keith could see his face

“Babe?”

“Something happened. I need you to come with me”

“Wha... babies?”

Right. Keith had no clue why his precious sleep was being disturbed

“No. No, I’m okay. I just... I really need you to come with me right now”

“Whaaa... Shiro?”

Lance had the unfair advantage of knowing about the shit storm in his kitchen, that and being more awake than asleep

“He’s right here in bed, but... he can’t see this”

“Your scent... somethings...”

Yeah. His scent was doing its own thing, his eyes were filled with tears and the position hurt his back. Lance already knew he was far from fighting form

“I’ll explain, but... it’s easier to show you... I... I need you to come with me”

Getting Keith moving, his boyfriend was more of a hazard than the damn stairs. His boyfriend tripping on his own feet, leading Lance to catch him as he half leapt down, whimpering as his feet his the floor. With the shock shooting straight up his back, and his healing foot that he’d kind of half forgotten from his back pain, the landing was about as rad as the mess waiting. Yeah. Have a baby they said. It’ll all work out, they said. They didn’t warn him about all the hard work in the middle of it all

“Babe?”

Lance was holding Keith to hold himself up far more than Keith was holding him for the same reason

“I’m okay... my back’s sore, but I need to show you”

“You’re making me worried”

For Keith to have such a grasp on the English language his boyfriend must be internally freaking. Lance hadn’t exactly eased any of his worries

“I’m okay... physically, I’m okay. It’s Krolia... something happened. Not to her, but she’s helping and I... I need you right now”

Straightening himself, Keith moved from his side to standing in front of him. Moving to cup Lance’s cheek, it was more like a light slap as Keith sleepily tried to coordinate himself

“Babe, you’re worrying me. Just... tell me what happened”

“Curtis... he... well, it’s easier if I show you. It’s in the kitchen. Everyone’s alright, but... I’m... kind of... right now I need you to help me out because I’m out of my depth”

Keith’s “galaxy eyes” softened, nodding immediately

“Okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay”

“I really hope so... try not to freak out too much. The others are sleeping”

Keith went in front of him, Lance bumping into him when his boyfriend suddenly stopped

“What the fuck?!”

Lance flinched. Yeah. This wasn’t good. Not only was Keith blinded by the kitchen lights, he was forced to see pretty much the same things Lance had... other than the floor. Krolia hadn’t done a bad job of sweeping up the worst of it. Taking a deep breath, all his words came out like word vomit, seeking reassurance that he’d done the right thing by waking Keith and Krolia for help

“I woke up and the kitchen was like this. I didn’t want to wake you up but I didn’t want to hide this from you and I didn’t want you to feel like I was hiding things. I know you barely slept, and I know I woke mum up first, but I... This is my fault and I... I kind of really need you to help because I’m too freaked to adult right now”

“Keith! We meet again. Make yourself useful and get Lance sitting down again. Then you can start on the table while I start on sink”

Right. Blood on his table... Krolia seemed happy to have a helper that wasn’t him. It seemed his boyfriend had bonded more with Krolia during whatever talk they’d had. Lance had his own questions for Krolia, namely did she know about the ring box Keith kept in his drawer and what the fuck it meant for their relationship. Lance thought they’d agreed to wait, now had this additional little voice in his head telling him he should snoop and find out more. Having his boyfriend in the same space calmed his ego, letting him refocus on what needed to happen next

“You need to be careful getting blood out of wood. It would have already stained. Grab some paper towels to mop it up, then we’ll need to clean up what’s left as carefully as possible. We can cover the stain with a table cloth”

“Oh, great thinking! You really did snag a great man. Lance, I want you to sit back down again and finish that cup of tea. You’re still in shock”

He had to admit that he most certainly was still in shock. Keith sighing heavily as he looked to the floor

“Am I going to get glass in my feet?”

“Like Lance did? He really should be off his feet right now”

As Keith turned to him, Lance raised his hands in surrender

“I know. I’ll sit. I got the glass out and tossed it in the sink...”

“Why was there glass on the floor to begin with?”

Moving his left hand to the back of his head, he scratched his hair nervously

“Uh, well, you know...”

“Curtis smashed his medication”

“He did what?!”

Dobbed in by Krolia, Keith was instantly furious at the news. Lance had been trying to figure the right way to ease into the conversation, this was not it

“I have a few vials... you should probably leave the ones in the sink. My blood’s in there and we can’t risk infection”

“Right now I don’t give a fuck. Go back to bed, babe. We’ll fucking deal with this”

“But you’ve been up all night painting”

“And we’ll deal with this right now. Go lay down”

Lance was kind of unimpressed

“I can help”

“Babe, seriously, I’m about to lose my temper. You need that medication and he fucking knows if”

Bursting into tears again, Lance wept for his friend

“He can’t help it. You’ve seen what happens when I act out of ego. Hating him for this is as good as hating me”

Keith sighed, Lance drawn against him as his boyfriend kissed his hair, before relying

“I don’t hate him. I’m mad at the situation. This isn’t what I wanted to wake up to, but I’m glad you came and got me”

“I wanted you to know I rely on you. That I know I can rely on you”

“I know, babe. Can you please let me and mum handle this?”

“I can help. This is my house”

“I know it is, but this isn’t our first time cleaning up blood. You resting right now, is going to help me concentrate on getting this cleaned up”

“I don’t want to be a burden”

“Babe, you’re not a burden. I don’t want to lash out and I don’t want to say something to hurt you. Why don’t you wait in the office until we’re done? I promise I’ll come get you when this is cleaned up”

“But...”

“Babe, please?”

Lance couldn’t say no to Keith asking. He felt completely useless. He wanted Curtis to be happy. He wanted Keith to understand. He knew how Keith got when he was cranky, that meant he wanted to be there for him to help him through those feelings. But, if he was in the way...

“Okay. I trust you”

“And I love you”

“I love you, too. I’ll be in the office. I’m not up for the stairs right now”

In the office he could listen to what was happening. He’d have to content himself with that

“Okay. This shouldn’t take long. Then I’ll come cuddle the fuck out of you”

“You do give the best cuddles”

“I thought Hunk did?”

“Mmm... but you’re cuddles are different. I feel bad I woke you”

“You did the right thing. Now go rest, and don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your foot. I want to take a look at that too”

“Okay... Thank you”

“You’re welcome”

Closing the door to the office, Lance locked it behind him. Should Curtis wake up and attempt something, he didn’t know how he’d handle the idea of having to fight his friend. His instincts were such a mess that instead of standing up for himself, his body was telling him to put as much space between him and his friend as he could do nothing could happen to the twins. Sitting on the bed seemed to have an immediate effect. Lance moving to curl up under the covers. He missed his bed with all the blankets and the sense of security they brought, for now though, this was all he could do to feel safe.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #I’m sorry Curtis #I just need more Krolia with our boys #and a reason to have that demon out faster

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miguel-manbemel · 4 years

Text

Everything’s gonna be alright, Roman

Roman had stayed in his room for too long. He had been crying for too long, so much so that tears had wore off. Again, he heard the knocking at the door. For days he had refused to open. He didn’t want to see anyone. He wasn’t ready to see anyone… but this time, there was something in him that made him go to the door. He placed the door chain, though, because he was still a huge mess and didn’t want anyone to see him, even though he now longed for company.

“Who is this?” Roman said.

“It’s me, Patton”, a voice said on the other side of the door.

Roman opened the door as much as the chain allowed and peeked out. There was Patton, his face was a mixture of concern and happiness.

“Thank goodness that you finally answered the door, Roman. It’s been two weeks! I was so worried about you, you don’t have an idea.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, Patton.” Roman mumbled with a weak voice “I wasn’t ready to face anyone, that’s all.”

“Roman, why don’t you let me in? I can barely see you and I need to see you so much to make sure you’re really okay.”

“I’m okay, Patton, don’t worry about me.”

“How do you want me not to worry about you, kiddo? We’re friends, and friends worry about each other’s well-being.”

“I’m not a baby, Patton, even if you call me kiddo. I don’t need to be babysat by anyone. It feels belittling.”

“I’m not saying that you do, Roman. But adults do also worry about each other and that doesn’t mean they belittle each other. It just means they love each other.”

“Sure, you love me so much… that you decided to side with Deceit against me. A weird way of showing your love.”

“Can’t we talk this out face to face, Roman? Like adults? Talking across a door is what really feels belittling, at least for me.”

Roman hesitated.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes, of course, Roman. The first days, the others Sides came with me, but they eventually decided to give you some space. I didn’t stop trying to reach to you because I feared if I stopped you’d think we really didn’t care about you.”

“Do you?” Roman said with the most suspicious voice.

“Of course we do, and I resent the question!”

Roman sighed.

“Okay, come in. And sorry for the mess in my room, I’m not in the mood for tidying it.”

Roman opened the door and Patton came in.

“Don’t worry, kiddo, you should see the mess in my room right now.”

Roman sat in a chair next to his drawing desk while Patton sat down on the bed next to it.

“Well, what do you have to say.” Roman said.

“I should be the one asking that question, Roman. I think that among us both, you’re the most in need of talking. Am I wrong?”

“Well…” Patton’s response took him by surprise and at first he didn’t know what to say. Then he nervously started talking “I have nothing to say. You two made it all clear in the living room two weeks ago.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, Roman. We are friends and I can take anything you want to say. If you’re angry, show your anger. If you’re sad, show your sadness. Say whatever you want to say, but, for goodness sake, say what’s in your heart. I’m here for you if you want to vent. Yell at me, get mad at me, cry on my shoulder if you need to, but stop holding it inside of you before it kills you, Roman, please.”

Such a direct request made Roman get silent for a couple of seconds. It was as if he wanted to do all these things at the same time, but in trying to let it all out it had all gotten stuck inside of him. All… except tears, a torrent of tears that started falling down both of his cheeks. Patton got up from the bed and he almost jumped towards Roman to hug him. Roman hugged Patton back and he started loudly whining, like he had never whined before in his life. It was as if all the pain he had been holding in his heart was finally leaving him in the form of breathy sobs. Patton said nothing at all. He just hugged him and petted the back of his hair. His cat hoodie started getting soaking wet of Roman’s tears but that didn��t matter at all. A hoodie can be washed easily, but now it was Roman’s soul what was getting washed up, and he really needed it.

After around five minutes, Roman started calming down. Patton then released him. If Roman looked like a mess before, he looked even worse right now with his eyes all red and his makeup foundation all ruined, but even so, there was a slight gesture of peace in him that pleased Patton.

“Are you feeling better, Roman?”

Roman pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with golden threads and blew his nose before he could answer.

“I think so…” Roman said.

“Are you ready to talk now? I’m still here for you, remember.”

“Well… I really felt so wrong before I left the living room… I thought you didn’t love me anymore. I was afraid that you would despise my company after I treated Janus the way I did and I was afraid of facing you. But I also missed you so much… I’ve been living a hell in my room all these days. And it was all my fault, for being such a jerk. Janus was right. I’m not so different from my brother Remus and I can be as evil as him or even worse. It runs in the family I guess…”

“We were all in the wrong in that situation, Roman. We should have also listened to you. I’m sure you had your reasons to react the way you did against Janus. And it was wrong of him to call you the evil twin, knowing how much you fear being like Remus. But you must recognize that you hurt him really bad. He was opening his heart to us and your teasing was cruel and damaging. But when you’re hurting you say a lot of stupid things you don’t really mean. I’m sure Janus didn’t mean what he said, and I have the suspicion you also didn’t mean what you said, because you were also hurting, weren’t you, Roman?”

“I know I hurt him. I was… Janus had been manipulating me for so long, and I didn’t even see it. And now that I noticed that all the sweet words he said to me were only a part of his scheme, seeing the others side with Janus hurt me. I felt like if they allowed him a seat at the table, it meant that all these manipulations on me were right and I deserved them. It was horrible, I felt so betrayed, so worthless…”

“I’m so sorry, kiddo.” Patton said. “Of course we don’t believe his manipulations were right. That’s not the case at all. It was wrong of him to use you like that and I’ll make sure that he knows it next time I see him. And you’re not worthless at all. You’re Thomas’ Creativity, with a capital C. He loves you… more than any other Side of his.”

“Oh, come on, that can’t be true.” Roman said. “Thomas has so many Sides and they’re all so much better than me.”

“Yes, Thomas has many Sides. But none of them are better or worse than you. They’re… We’re just different, and I’m telling you the truth when I say that Thomas loves you more than any other Side of his. Because everything’s he’s got in his life… his career, the many friends he made in the business, the multiple stories, worlds and characters he created, the millions of fans he gathered all over the world… All of that wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for you. And if there’s one thing Thomas knows about, it is gratitude. You are his hero. You have always been and forever will be. He really meant it when he said that. No one will ever take that place in his heart. I think if you ducked out for real… He couldn’t bear it. He needs you. He loves you and he will never stop loving you, Roman. You must never be afraid of that.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Then say nothing at all. Just think about everything I told you and, when you’re ready, get out of this room and come back to us. Because we also love you and miss you. Since we lost your eccentric theatricalities, the Mind Palace is so dull… We need you to be extra all around us. We need you to annoy us every once in a while, because bickering between us… it was also fun and we miss even that. So, when you’re ready, do you promise that you’ll make a return, Roman? Please?

Roman showed a smile of gratitude.

“I promise. I missed you all so much too. Just give me some time to tidy myself and I promise to annoy you for years to come, okay?”

Patton also smiled.

“Sounds like a plan, Roman. Okay, I’ll leave you to fix your makeup. See ya later.”

“See ya, Patton. Thank you so much. I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo. And remember, everything’s gonna be all right, Roman. I promise.”

Patton came out of Roman’s room and closed the door behind him. He was showing a very heartwarming smile. He knew his mission was accomplished and he couldn’t be happier about it. Then, he heard footsteps approaching, recognizing the childish playful steps of the one he had been impersonating, so he quickly changed up. But even when he was showing again his scales and slit eye, his heartwarming smile didn’t leave him. Janus had talked everything he needed to talk with Roman and his purpose of lifting his spirits up had been fulfilled once again. After all, there’s no self-preservation without “self”, without ego, without Roman, and he was happy to take care of Roman as best as he could, even if they clashed from time to time, but, even for that, that’s what friends are for, and he was determined to regain Roman’s friendship back. No matter how long it would take him and how many Sides he would have to impersonate, it was worth it for him.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #roceit #platonic roceit #angst

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

Text

“A Taste of Clouds Doesn’t Have to Chase Away Your Smile”

Summary: Valtor gets caught in the sudden rain that pushes him to seek shelter in a small business establishment he wouldn't have looked at twice, otherwise. Inside he finds another perspective on what the clouds can bring you if you can open your heart and your mind for the magic of the universe. Bakery AU.

This was supposed to be about rain which is still there but I somehow ended up with a bakery AU on my hands. I have to admit, I never thought I would write one but here we are and I am actually very happy with how it turned out.

Every water drop falling on his skin was like a slap in the face. Of course, it would rain the one day he would decide to leave the car in the company garage as he went out to lunch. And of course, it would pour down into an angry curtain of water that he couldn't get out of when it was falling over everything.

The downpour was violent and sudden. It had practically started from a clear sky and it had caught him at the narrow street he'd taken as a shortcut back to his office. It had turned out to be a shortcut to getting soaking wet when there was nowhere to hide from the rain as it seemed to mock him with its steady rhythm and loud noise. Surely, it could have waited for another five minutes that he would've needed to get back to his office but, apparently, his day had been going too well and had had to be ruined.

He wasn't wasting his time glaring at the sky no matter how much he wanted to when he had to stay focused on finding a way to hide from its attack.

An "open" sign drew his gaze and he headed towards the small shop keeping his pace steady. He wasn't going to run from the rain like he was afraid of it. If anything, his jaw only clenched harder at the feeling of the soaked fabric of his suit jacket between his fingers. It was hardly keeping his hair dry anymore and he had nothing else to cover his head. He could have a change of clothes in the office but he still hadn't installed a hairdryer. He hadn't thought it necessary but he was sure to look into the option now since letting the events of the last few minutes repeat was unacceptable.

He pushed the door of the small business establishment to hear a ring that surely couldn't have come from a bell. And indeed, when he looked up, he was met with a wind chime that had a small solar system hanging from it. It was the Sun that the door pushed and sent the whole system into motion producing the sound.

He might have been more interested in it if he weren't in a rush to turn back to the sky and give a victorious smirk now that he'd won. The only times he was getting his hair wet were when he decided to go for a swim in the mansion's pool. Or when there was a pool party. Either way it involved a pool and an incentive and none of that was present currently.

"What can I help you with?" a voice startled him to the effect of him whirling around to the inside of the shop from where it had come as if he'd been caught at the scene of the crime.

The mellow timbre obviously belonged to the woman behind the counter who was the only one in the little space. It seemed business wasn't exactly blooming which was a shame when she herself was a sight worth the visit.

She had purple hair that seemed to cascade down her back in what had to be a braid that he couldn't guess the length of. It hardly mattered when he had her lithe figure in front of his eyes. He could see her curves even under the apron she was wearing and she had the figure of a model which he could attest to after all the time he'd spent in the company of women from all walks of that profession. And her eyes seemed to have shined a light on the thought in his mind with their bright golden color since the look she was giving him was cutting with knowledge of where he'd ended up mentally when he was on her territory.

"Nothing, I'm afraid," he said, his brain protesting when his nose could distinguish the smell of coffee from between the threads of the scent of baked bread and sugar weaving themselves around him. He was more than awake at that time of the day–especially after the surprise bath from the rain–but the yearning for the familiar warmth of a cup of coffee in his hand and the bitter taste of it on his tongue to chase away the cold and sourness left from the downpour washed over him.

"None of my products is catching your appetite?" she asked, making him look around only to feel overwhelmed by the colorful display of sweets and pastries.

He'd entered a bakery. He could've well thought it was a flower shop with all the plants around the place that were in every corner, on every table and even hanging from the ceiling in pots that seemed too small to contain them as they spilled over the sides and reached for him with their green stems. He was getting the vibe of a hostile jungle that was looking to tangle into his hair and keep him in place to feed on his life force until there was nothing left of his muscles and he was done for.

"I'm sorry but do I look like I go anywhere near these things?" he asked, stepping closer to give her the chance to take a better look at him. If she hadn't done that already. She must have had plenty of time to look at him while he'd still been fighting his mental battle with the rain outside and experience had shown that his fitness hours plus a gluten free diet had women turning after him. She wouldn't have even needed to put in the effort to do that when he was right in front of her. Lucky girl.

"Your muscles can't handle a bit of spectacular cooking and a hooking taste?" she asked, propping herself on the counter on her elbows and he was sure that even if the apron hadn't been blocking the view of her cleavage, he still wouldn't have been looking at it when he had his focus pinned on the challenge on her face. It was so potent in the curve of her smirk and the arch of her brow as she looked so pleased with herself. Like she owned the place which was highly likely but it was beside the point. She was too pleased with herself for his liking.

"I was just hiding from the rain," he said, holding her gaze to make it clear he meant to return her insult.

"Your loss," she shrugged, her nonchalance getting on every last one of his nerves and setting them on fire with the outrage rising in him that even the rain hadn't managed to draw out. "My bakery can offer so much more than just shelter and you are the only one that will suffer from not knowing that," she said, her eyes sparkling triumphantly even when he'd gone for her ego.

He'd been quite secure the subtle dig about the unpopularity of her business would have gotten her–surely he would have known about the place as close to his office as it was if it were that good–yet she didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, he was the one with the problem right now.

"You won't kick me out just because I'm not here for the cookies, right?" he asked even though he knew she had a much better reason to kick him out back in the rain. She had the reason and the power and he was having a what could be described as mild adrenaline rush at the thought of being at her mercy. He hadn't quite found himself in a situation like that before which might have been what had had him so haughty before realization had kicked in.

"Of course not," she said, her tone not as light anymore as if she was trying to give her feelings a place to hide where the sun wouldn't find them even if it was nowhere to be seen currently as the clouds provided enough darkness. She seemed to catch that as well and was quick to mend it. "You look like you're gonna melt if you have to go back out in the rain," she said, a glint in her eyes that he couldn't interpret as malicious no matter how hard he tried to do just that.

"You should try going out there before you mock," Valtor snipped, relaxed as much as he could be in the wetness of his pants sticking to his legs and his suit jacket gushing water in his hand–he was leaving a puddle on her floor as he realized, yet she didn't seem bothered by it–now that they were back to teasing. It was a good thing that she wasn't quite as vengeful as he was.

"I have sweets tougher than you," she bit back but the grin on her face was just playful rather than vicious. "Speaking of which, us, peasants, have work to do," she pushed herself off the counter. "You can stay until the rain stops, Your Highness," she threw at him casually before turning her back on him. The audacity.

He had work to do as well. She wasn't the only one who had a business to run. Though, she was probably the only one who was doing it on her own when he had many people to coordinate and manage.

"You know what," he said, glad to see her stop dead in her tracks, "I'll try your infamous sweets." She could have decided that she'd gotten the last word but he had other plans. And since he was the customer, he had the privilege. For once. "I'll take your specialty," he said, only hoping that it wasn't something too sugary. It could be too much for his years of abstinence. Though, he was sure he could manage one bite. He had to.

"That's an excellent choice," she chimed at him immediately, not phased by his sudden change of mind, and moved to grab a plate.

"I will be the judge of that," he said, expecting her to shoot him a dirty glare but she only gave a self-assured smirk as she barely acknowledged him while she worked on serving him.

It had him tensing as if for a fight when he didn't know what he was up against and what smart remark she would whip out next. He hadn't quite felt that in years now that his company had grown so much that all business partners were the ones that had to win him over and not the other way around. It was refreshing when he'd thought it would bother him quite like the rain had.

She seemed to be at the exact opposite specter of experience when she was working swiftly and dexterously, the motions she was going through a second nature. Despite the obvious habit, she didn't seem bored or annoyed with her work. The smile didn't leave her face and her body was not resisting the process like he could feel his own doing sometimes when he'd been buried in documentation so long that he'd missed his physical exercise. She looked like she was at the right place and she knew it with every inch of her being which, as much as it puzzled him–her life did seem a bit too tedious and ordinary if she was taking such pleasure in bantering with him–also drew him to her when she seemed to love her job more than he did his.

"Here you go. My favorite recipe," she said as she served him what looked like a tower of whipped cream–only somehow fluffy and soft like cotton, and extremely violet in color–though that could be just his own twisted perception considering he hadn't had that much sugar in front of him in years.

"What's that?" he asked. If he was about to die from it, might as well know what to blame.

"I call it a Kiss of the Clouds," she said and he was almost sure she was joking but no one could be that good of an actor. Not even her although she seemed to have a plethora of skills, not the least of which leaving him speechless. He had to give her credit for that since it wasn't an easy feat, yet she'd accomplished it without straining herself in the slightest.

"You're serious?" he asked, his gaze moving from the thing to her and then back again. Maybe names were her weakness.

"I'll just let my work speak for itself and shut you up," she said, though whether her voice wavered just the tiniest bit or he was projecting his own internal lack of steadiness, he wasn't sure. He sure hoped he hadn't pulled the thread that could unravel her confidence by accident when he didn't truly want to pull it deliberately either as he wasn't certain he'd enjoy conquering the victory in that fight.

He bit into it rather aggressively only to feel it melt in his mouth and release its taste that was exactly what he would have imagined clouds to taste like if he'd ever taken the time to do that. It was sweet in a way so light it felt like a breeze brushing against your taste buds and there was a refreshing coolness to it that he realized was coming from the tint of mint he could trace to the core of the flavor. It was everything the rain outside had refused to be and he was lost in the strange land of wonder she'd introduced to his brain through food.

"Saw the light, did you?" she asked, and maybe it was her who was projecting because her eyes were the ones shining radiantly with satisfaction as if she'd been the one to have a bite of heaven. And maybe she had. Maybe the approval of her work was all she needed to sustain her confidence and joy. And what a striking thought that was when he could never have enough of anything.

"I might if I eat all of it after all that time I haven't had sugar and I really want to even though I shouldn't," he admitted when discarding his ego for a moment was a small price to pay for the warmth of her company, especially when her eyes were illuminated by pride that was in no way imposing. It made her even more beautiful when it was completely deserved and it would be a crime to deny her the praise her creation was due.

"It's made with stevia. You will be just fine," she said, startling him with how easily she revealed her secret. Not that he could ever come any close to replicating her recipe even if he had the best chefs do it for him, but the instant reassurance coming from her seemed so in character he was annoyed by his own surprise.

"I'm half sure you're only saying that to get me to buy more but it is working nonetheless and I can't do anything about it," he admitted, both to make up for his disbelief in her good nature and because it was true. The only reason he hadn't devoured the whole thing yet was because he was too busy soaking up the interaction with her. It was the best thing he'd ever tasted and he wanted more.

She gave a grin that didn't make him feel like the ground was no longer under his feet when it was only logical as she'd claimed the triumph in their argument. "How many do you want?"

"How many do you have?" Valtor asked when he wasn't ready to give up just yet. Not when losing left him with the taste of her masterpiece in his mouth and not licking the wounds on his ego.

"More than you could possibly eat alone even if you were only feeding on those," she was ready with her answer and it felt good to have someone leading when he knew she wouldn't just let him drop off a cliff. All she did was push him further into thought to come up with something equally as clever and it was more stimulating that the rush of endorphins he got after a training session.

"Who says I'll be eating them alone?" he asked, the thought of making her jealous unable to surface through the visuals of what his parents' parties would look like if they served her desserts. He was sure his mom would love the things enough to try to hire the bakery to work exclusively for them, though that would need to remain just in the dream realm as the woman in front of him would disagree with the notion of working for a sole costumer no matter how much she would get paid. The quantity she was after was not in money and it was obvious by her personal interaction with the costumers.

"I told you that you wouldn't be." Not to mention her sales technique of arguing which wasn't that at all. She wasn't trying to take his money and that he could guarantee for. She'd just shown him what he was missing.

"I'll take seventeen," he decided to give her her victory after she'd done more than deserve it.

"Seventeen?" her forehead creased slightly at the taste of confusion.

"Why does that surprise you?" Valtor asked even though he had the perfect idea. If he stopped being an ass now, she would have no more reason to keep bantering with him, though.

"Seems too specific," she relented as if to prove him wrong. Almost as if she could see through him, though the more realistic–and less self-centered–explanation would be that she just knew when to admit defeat. Unlike him who always got carried away. Though, he supposed she didn't have the means to bail herself out of trouble every so often and needed to be reasonable instead.

"Today is the seventeenth," he offered, watching her lips part from the hitting realization to bring a smirk on his. He'd managed to catch her off guard and he considered it an accomplishment–probably the biggest he'd had in a while since his business policy was rather a habit at this point and any success it brought him could hardly be called a new achievement–even if she recovered quickly.

"Coming right up," she announced as she headed to complete his order. She didn't look offended by his games and it had his heart swell even when it said more about her than it did about him when he'd already said everything about himself she needed to know to draw her conclusions about the kind of person that he was. And she wouldn't be incorrect either.

Her being distracted with packing his Kisses was the perfect opportunity to shove the rest of the one he hadn't finished in his mouth but he restrained himself no matter how much he wanted to. He could take his Kiss home. The conversation with her he could only have here and he was already running out of time as she'd probably go back to her work once she had finalized her sale. He'd already filled up more of her time than she probably had for him.

"How did you get the idea for these?" he asked as he focused on her even if he could barely see her behind the wall of sweets standing between them. Far more than he could eat no matter how much he would love to have the sight of her in front of him again. His efforts to keep his fingers off of her Kiss would have to be enough to show his determination when he would get too lost in the taste–or the tender violet color that was an echo of her hair color distant enough to make the resemblance dreamy as if it was part of a magical world he didn't belong in–to hear her story. At least one of the many he was sure her bakery harbored like it was a storybook.

"Well, most people only ever see clouds as something undesirable. They either hide the sunshine needed for tanning or bring rain to soak them when they didn't have the foresight to bring umbrellas and ruin their mood when they can't find the beauty in something seemingly lacking charm," she said and Valtor was only able to rationalize she wasn't describing him when he kept his own question in mind. She'd just met him and he was sure as hell not the center of her universe. "I've always found a certain kind of magic in the clouds. They can revive the earth when they give their rain and they can be a source of joy if you have the imagination to find amusement in them," she said, most certainly catching his bewilderment even if he hadn't seen her look at him as she continued. "Ever looked at the clouds and tried to find what they look like? My favorite was the shape of a dragon I saw in them a few years back. It looked so regal... Majestic."

"A dreamer, huh?" Valtor asked, his question far more mocking than he'd intended, though he should've known when that was his default. He actually admired her for getting herself where she was without losing her spark of eccentricity and her curious approach to the world. A dragon sounded like something that would catch her attention, indeed.

"Well, we can't be all practical...ly boring," she teased as she emerged from her world of homemade wonders–there was no other way to describe what she could do with her cooking and the fairytale places she could take you to through your sense of taste–and he didn't have a good enough answer even though he hadn't grown up struggling to become who he was and he hadn't needed to sacrifice his dreams for the wealth he had. "That would be-"

"Keep the change," Valtor said as he slid a hundred on the counter. He didn't feel like a fifty would be enough to compensate for all of her time that he'd taken up with his entitlement.

"That's a bit too generous," she said, making no move to take the money. "Even if you won't go broke, Valtor."

The sound of his name when he hadn't given it was more startling that the whole experience had been when he'd given her his honesty. Indirectly as it may have been, but she had certainly given the impression she'd been able to read him. She couldn't have read his name in their meeting, though. She'd known it beforehand.

"You know who I am?" he asked, his mind not even paying attention to the redundancy he was spewing when it was still stuck on figuring out what her words meant for him.

"I do," she didn't offer more and he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking how. Even if that didn't help sever the need to know whether she recognized him from a business magazine or from a tabloid. He sure hoped it was the first even when hope had never been his thing. He wasn't good at it and it wasn't good to him in return. And the way they were clawing at each other currently was the perfect proof since there was no way she didn't see him as the playboy he was and yet, there was still a spark of hope inside him for the opposite that refused to go out. Maybe it was just tempted to shine as bright as her eyes even when he doubted he could ever be capable of that.

"Do I get a name? Or should I go look outside?" he asked, ever so confident in himself. Although, this time it felt a lot more like desperation.

"I'm afraid it's a bit trickier than that," she said, her words bouncing off the walls of her candy house to start painting it a nightmare now. "My name is for loyal customers." Her words stung with the implication of the truth in them.

"So I can buy the privilege to know it?" he hid behind his ever growing green wall when she could deliver a devastating blow even though she'd proven by now it was not her goal. It was low of him to think that when all she wanted was to make people happy. She was making little pieces of heaven and he still couldn't trust her. It really said more about him than he'd ever wanted to hear.

"You can earn it," she said, the first tint of sharpness tainting the sound of her voice. As if she was trying to cut through the shade of green that did nothing for her among the comfort of her plants, yet he'd painted all around them and he couldn't decide which one of them would have crumpled the banknote still lying on the counter more if holding it. "You can't buy everything with money," she slid his back towards him to punctuate.

"What do you think I'm trying to buy?" he asked, leaning on her counter casually as if his brain had failed to deduce she most certainly had knives lying around and would need just one precise stab to pop his inflated ego.

"My time," she said, the words piercing through him the same way her eyes had allowed her to see everything. "More Kisses perhaps," she held his gaze burning through his resolve to contain the impulse to lick his lips when she'd spread another one of the delicious fantasies she was cooking up over them. It would be all she needed to kick him out in the rain that would wash all of them out of his mind so he had to be careful. He didn't want to get soaked through to the soul.

"Well then, I can try it your way." He took back his hundred and left her the fifty that should have been on her counter from the start. "I can be very loyal," he said, pocketing his change to illustrate he'd received her message loud and clear even if he'd forced her to send it through a channel she wouldn't normally use.

"That's not the impression one gets from the media." And there was the answer to his hope. Another slap in the face. Or was it a paparazzi flashlight–always meant for the model next to him–in his eyes that could very well be the reason he would never get to see the real her?

"The media doesn't know me." Of course, it didn't. It would be hard for anyone else to know him when he hardly knew himself these days. Somewhere down the road of being the heir to a big business he'd lost the sensitivity of his soul and he'd been trying to fill the hole left after it with anything he could get his hands on. Even his parents' love hadn't helped when it couldn't get attached to the emptiness in his heart that was all his doing and he'd tried to buy something big enough to fill it.

"Fair enough," she said and the two words were like a flood trying to sweep him away.

Naturally, he did what he was used to and tightened his grip on her counter to the point where he would have suffocated it if it had been a living, breathing thing. No wonder everyone had trouble staying with him when he was clutching the same way at people. No one would smile while getting asphyxiated in his embrace.

She smiled at him and a ray of sunshine hit the counter forcing him to relinquish it–just like the clouds had relinquished the sun–if he didn't want his fingers scorched by the raw power it held.

#winx club #winx valtor #winx griffin #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my wtiting #bakery au #au

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juju-on-that-yeet · 4 years

Text

There Are Worse Things I Could Do, Chapter 3/10

Summary: The other egos realize that Yancy is missing - including Illinois, who begins to struggle with guilt and regret. Warnings: None Characters: Illinois, Captain Magnum, most of the other egos get a line or two

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

Lio hadn’t been worried at first.

He hadn’t expected Yancy to answer his call; he can’t blame him for not wanting to talk. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t seen him around the building; he’d been hard to spot for a week since…everything. But as the morning becomes afternoon, he realizes that no one else has seen or heard from Yancy, either, not since last night.

Part of Lio thinks Yancy must just be out clearing his head, but the other part of him knows better. Something’s wrong. Hell, something’s been wrong for days. He’s only been thinking about it nonstop.

Yancy’s confession had blindsided him. Lio hadn’t expected it, hadn’t noticed a thing. Yancy had hid it so well, and Lio’s heart aches to know it. How upset was he when Lio wasn’t around? How upset is he now, does he still cry the way he did after Lio rejected him? Lio had never wanted to hurt him like he did, but he’d been at a total loss. Yancy is his friend, his best friend, his confidante, his favorite person in the world alongside Magnum – but he’s not in love with him. He never could be, he could never risk it.

How many partners has he lost? How many people fell in love with him? How many of them did he let himself love back? How many of them are in the ground now? How many of them are stiff statues on mountainsides or stuck in remote caves? How many of them got separated from Lio and were never found? How many times has Lio woken up in the night with an old partner’s face in his mind, with their name on his lips?

Too many. Far, far too many.

He cares too much about Yancy to put him in danger, to bring him to the forefront of whatever curse he’s got that makes him lose people. He cares too much about Yancy to fall in love with him.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have reacted better to Yancy’s confession. He didn’t go after Yancy when he ran off, didn’t even call out to him. He didn’t knock on his bedroom door after giving him a few hours to be alone. He didn’t find him in the hall the next morning to clear the air. He didn’t use Magnum’s arrival the day after that to talk to Yancy and figure things out. He let a week go by and avoided Yancy the whole time. But why? Anxiety? Fear? Guilt? Maybe all three? For all Lio’s thought about the situation since it started, he still can’t say just how he feels.

That is, until a meeting is called, one that all the egos are required to come to, regarding Yancy’s sudden disappearance.

There’s not enough room at the conference table to Lio to sit, so he stands nearby with Magnum, who looks just as worried as Lio, maybe even more so. He must know exactly how Yancy feels; he’s already tried to get Lio to talk to him. Lio wishes he’d listened to Magnum’s request, now. They aren’t the only ones worried; Bim is chewing his lip, MarkBop is leaning against Bing with big, nervous eyes, and Yandereplier is practically vibrating with anxiety. They’re all friends with Yancy, too. Lio wonders if any of them know the whole story. Well, he wonders if Bim and Bop know the whole story. He’s sure that Yandere does, considering the glares he’s been sending Lio’s way for the past week. Yandere is intimidating, and so is Lio’s own guilt, so he’s been avoiding Yandere since this whole thing started. Fortunately, Yandere isn’t paying attention to him at the moment; he’s more focused on Dark as he calls the meeting to order.

“As some of you have informed me,” Dark begins, “Yancy has not been seen since last night.”

This starts up a murmur among the egos who hadn’t been aware, curious and worried.

“Upon looking at the security cameras, Google was able to confirm that Yancy left the building after midnight and has not yet returned.”

It’s late afternoon now, almost evening.

“However, Yandere did attempt to call him, and Google was able to follow the signal’s path to Yancy’s phone.”

Lio blinks in surprise. He didn’t know Yandere called Yancy, too. He’d finally gotten up the courage to speak to Yancy about everything, even if through a screen, but the call had been ignored after a few rings. It sounds like Yandere didn’t have any luck either, if Dark’s word choice and Yandere’s expression are any indication.

“Google traced the signal to the park.”

“Specifically the lake,” Google puts in. “In the lake.”

A flurry of murmuring starts up again, louder this time.

“It appears as though Yancy intentionally discarded his phone there,” Dark continues over the others, “We’ve been unable to figure out where he’s gone since.” He looks around the table to the oldest egos. “That means we’re going to be looking for him. The Googles will tap into security footage around the city and continue to search that way.”

“I’ll do more patrols,” Silver Shepherd says, “Maybe I’ll see him on one.”

“Wil and I have people we can talk to,” Bim adds.

“The Host will use his visions, and see if they turn up anything useful,” Host puts in.

Dark nods, satisfied.

“I expect any new information to be brought to my attention immediately,” he says, “I don’t need to remind you all that Yancy is a new ego, and is therefore vulnerable.”

“What happened to him, anyway?” Bop asks suddenly, quiet and afraid. “Did…did someone kidnap him?”

A few moments of quiet.

“No, I think…” Bim begins, “I think he ran away.” His voice spikes with nerves. “He’s been weird this whole past week, something must’ve happened! Whatever it was, it might’ve made him want to run away.”

Lio glances at Magnum, who glances right back. Neither says anything. They have no desire to air Yancy’s dirty laundry to the rest of the egos.

Yandere doesn’t say anything, either, though his expression darkens.

“Be that as it may,” Dark sighs, “What matters now is finding Yancy. The Googles found nothing at the lake to suggest a struggle, but kidnapping is not an impossibility. For now, we will carry out the usual search protocols until we find something conclusive. All are dismissed.”

Dark poofs away, and everyone else shuffles out to leave. Lio and Magnum stay, though, mulling everything over.

“He really ran off, did he?” Magnum murmurs, more a statement than a question.

“Looks like it,” Lio sighs, “I did call him this morning, but–”

“Hey!”

Lio looks away from Magnum to see Yandere suddenly in his face, eyes red with anger. Lio suppresses a yelp of surprise and backs away.

“Woah, what–”

“This is your fault,” Yandere growls, “Yancy ran off because of you.”

“Hey, hold on!” Lio yells, pushing back the despair that wells up in his chest at the words. “I didn’t make him do anything, he made the choice to leave on his own!!”

“Ye ought to stay your tongue,” Magnum warns Yandere, but Yandere ignores him, continuing to come at Lio.

“You broke his heart!” Yandere shouts. He jabs a finger into Lio’s chest. “You hurt him bad and you never even tried to apologize!!”

“Apologize for what?” Lio asks helplessly, struggling to keep his cool. “Not being in love with him??”

“For avoiding him and acting like you don’t care about him!” Yandere yells. “He cried for hours and couldn’t get through a day without punching a hole in something and you just ignored him!!”

“He…” Lio can’t say anymore, now that he’s imagining Yancy doing those things.

“I thought you were his friend,” Yandere snarls, “And so did he! Now he’s alone and he could get hurt or kidnapped or who knows what, and it’s all your fault!!”

“That’s enough from ye,” Magnum cuts in, stepping in front of Lio with a decisive thunk. “I don’t need me ship here to keelhaul ye, savvy?”

“Try it, Captain Crunch,” Yandere scoffs, “I dare you.”

Lio’s eyes widen. Magnum may be a gentle soul, but Lio’s seen him toss full-grown men over the side of his boat like sacks of flour. But Yandere, despite being around half Magnum’s height and one third of his weight, is formidable in his own right. Lio knows from Yancy how Yandere can cut men down like blades of grass with his katana. If Magnum and Yandere do fight, it won’t be pretty.

Fortunately, another voice rings out, sharp and authoritative.

“Hey!!”

Lio looks around Magnum to see Dr. Iplier striding into the room, likely attracted by the shouting. He looks angry, in the way a parent or a teacher might be. Magnum and Yandere see him too, and both startle.

“Simmer down, both of you!” Dr. Iplier scolds. “This is no time to fight and you both know it!”

Magnum steps away from Yandere and back beside Lio, a little embarrassed. Yandere stays where he is and redirects his glare from Lio to Dr. Iplier.

“Dad–!”

“You should be ashamed, blaming this on Lio!” Dr. Iplier yells, interrupting Yandere. “I better not hear you saying anything like that to him again, you understand me?”

“But–”

“Do you understand me?” Dr. Iplier asks, slowly and sternly. Lio almost shrinks back, nervous even though Dr. Iplier is defending him. Yandere’s glare softens into a pout, and his eyes start to darken back to brown.

“Hai, oto-san,” he grumbles, turning to leave.

“And I expect you to apologize to Lio after you’ve cooled off,” Dr. Iplier calls after him.

Yandere lets out a wordless sound of equal parts assent and frustration as he storms off. Dr. Iplier sighs.

“Sorry about him,” Dr. Iplier tells Lio as he turns back to look at him. “I’m sure he’s worried about Yancy, but that’s no–” He stops when he sees Lio, shock coloring his expression. “Oh, Lio…”

“What?” Lio asks, a moment before he realizes his face is wet. He doesn’t know when he started crying. “Oh, no, I’m fine,” he insists hurriedly, wiping his eyes with both hands.

“Don’t cry, lad,” Magnum says softly, putting a huge arm around Lio’s shoulders, “That bilge rat doesn’t know what he’s on about.”

“Hey now,” Dr. Iplier says, brow furrowing a little, “That’s my kid you’re talking about.”

Lio struggles to contain and wipe his tears as Magnum tries to comfort him without offending Dr. Iplier. No matter how quickly he seems to dry his face, more tears fall down just as fast. He feels so silly, weeping in front of the others like this. He’s Illinois Jones, for god’s sake; he’s too cool to cry. But Yandere’s words are slingshotting around his brain like so many pebbles in a shaken jar, and they resonate more each time they connect. Yandere’s right. Yancy ran away because of Lio. Lio broke his heart and made no effort to fix it. Yancy couldn’t take it and decided he’d rather run away than deal with Lio’s silence.

It’s his fault. It’s his fault.

Eventually, Lio gets his tears back under control. Yandere comes to him that night and apologizes, awkward but surprisingly sincere. It doesn’t make a difference, though. It doesn’t make Yandere less right.

Lio cares about Yancy, he wants the best for him, he loves him like a friend. But he’s not in love with him. He never could be.

If he did this much damage by rejecting him, he can only imagine how much worse he’d do if he hadn’t.

#yancy/illinois #yancinois #illinois jones #markiplier #markiplier fanfiction #kristin says stuff #my writing #fanfic #worse things #poor boi ;w;

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thotantics · 6 years

Text

Love You So Bad

⚤ pairing — reader + Jeon Jungkook (bts)

✎ word count — 4.6k

✦ genre — smut, pwp

✗ warnings — graphic description of sex, language, lowkey noona kink bc im traesh

[A/N] aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! Requested — “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.” & Jungkook???

Your hands are full, so you attempt to very gently knock against the bottom of Jungkook’s bedroom door with your foot. You can’t hear anything after a few seconds, and you sigh, shuffling a little closer, and you managed to knock with your foot a little louder.

This time, you heard him call out a muffled, “It’s open!”

Playing a dangerous balancing act with the two bags and two large drinks, stuffing whatever you can between your forearm and your side, you fumble for a second but manage to turn the door knob and get inside the room without dropping or spilling anything.

Jungkook’s sitting in his black and red gaming chair with his headphones on and he’s staring so intently at the screen that he doesn’t even glance your way as you kick the door shut with your foot and walk over to him. The room smells faintly of mandarin and you notice right away that his hair is damp and fluffy, meaning he must have just gotten out of the shower.

“Yoongi bought us dinner, and I wanted to come eat with you.” You told him, sitting all the food on the end table by his bed and flopping down onto the mattress. When you looked back at Jungkook it was very obvious that he was immersed in whatever it was that he was playing. There was gunfire, his character kept getting ambushed by enemines, and his shoulders were tense. Rolling your eyes, you smiled and focused on the food, separating yours and his and laying it all out, adding straws to your drinks.

“Yah!” He jumped a little in his seat, pulled the headphones away from his ears as the screen faded to black and then went back to the main menu. His eyes focused first on you, and then the food you laid out on the edge of his desk, his jaw flexing briefly. “Is that for me?”

“Yes.” You say, “Yoongi bought ‘the kids’ dinner and I so I thought I’d come eat with you since the others aren’t back yet.”

He’s already reaching for the food, pulling it open and checking it out before he takes off his headphones completely and moved away from his keyboard. “Thanks,” He tells you, “I hate eating alone.”

“Me, too.” You reply, and before you lift the burger to your mouth to take a bite, you nod over Jungkook’s shoulder at the computer screen. “You can keep playing, if you want, I just wanted to keep you company.”

“No, no, no,” He waves his hand dismissively, turning his chair away from the monitor and to face you, “I turned it off to eat dinner with you.”

“Ok,” You smile. “Thanks.”

Jungkook sighs after another drink, then he winks over at you. “Anytime.”

He has to know that your heart does flips anytime he does shit like that. Maybe that’s why he does it so often. Jungkook does seem to really love teasing you. It was really playful at first, but as time went on he grew more bold with you. Recently, his playful tickles and lifting you off your feet from behind to startle you had been coupled with lingering touches, and his mouth brushing your skin. First it was your ear. Murmuring playful, flirty things as he tickled your sides, then your neck. That was no accident, as he had claimed afterwards, a blush on his cheeks and a smirk on his lips.

As you eat, he keeps the conversation light and easy, but after a while he keeps grinning at you, and then he looks your way with a twinkle in his eye that just spells mischief.

“This is really nice of you, noona~” He says, “I’ll have to pay you back somehow.”

Jungkook very rarely calls you that. He doesn’t really like reminding you that he’s younger than you. Quite the opposite, since you had known him he had been trying to prove to you that he was a grown man. His baby face didn’t do him any favors but, god, every once in a while he could really, completely and utterly melt you.

“You don’t have to pay me back,” You remind him, “Yoongi bought it.”

“I didn’t mean money, I just mean, in gesture.” He says, taking a couple of fries from your plate and eating them before you could protest. You would have happily given them to him if he had asked, you think to yourself as you chuckle at him. He smiles at you cutely as he chews, “Let me do something nice for you to pay you back for having dinner with me.”

You hum, “What did you have in mind?”

At this point, when Jungkook quirks his brow and his jaw does that thing, you realize you’ve started a dangerous game of chicken. He scoots his chair across the floor, closing the short gap between your legs and his, and he leans in, elbows on his knees, regarding you with his head tilted, “What would you like me to do for you, noona? I could run you a nice, warm bubble bath. I could maybe give you a massage...or a kiss.”

You shove at his chest playfully, hoping to put some distance between you because he’s a little too close, and you’re pretty sure if he got any closer he’d be able to hear the drumming of your heart pounding helplessly in your chest.

“Stop,” You chide him gently, "You’re such a pain in my ass, Jeongguk.”

Jungkook laughs, “Ah~ I made you blush!” He sits back in his chair, ego boosted, leaning forward quickly to steal another few of your fries. “I think noona has a crush on me.”

“You’re the one offering up massages and kisses, Jeon Jeongguk.” You point out to him. “Besides, everyone with eyes has a crush on you, you’re so charming. It’s infuriating.”

He grins, but the smile fades into a softer one, his eyes locked on yours. He licks his lips, staring blatantly at yours. He’s quiet for a second or two, and in the silence you know exactly what he’s thinking, because the same memory is playing in your mind. A memory of being playful that got a little out of hand for the both of you. Your teasing and flirting had been building and building to something a lot more high stakes, and though Jungkook wouldn’t admit it out loud, he was falling in love with you. One evening, a few days prior, he had kissed you. It was short and sweet but it took you off guard, and the shock written clearly on your expression made him feel nervous. He tried to play it off, to act like it wasn’t as big of a deal as it really was to him, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

As he looks at you now, he chews his lower lip, contemplative before he finally speaks again, “I really do want to do something nice for you, noona.”

“You don’t have to, Jung-”

“I want to.” He interrupts you, “You’re always rolling your eyes at me, shaking your head at me.” He grins when you laugh out loud at that, glad that he could make you happy, glad that he could ease the tension, before he tacks on quickly, “Let me make you feel good for a change.”

Your breath catches in your throat, but you can’t tear your gaze away from him. He scoots closer again, but only an inch or two, so your knees just barely touch. “What do you want, Jungkook?” You ask him outright.

“I bet I can make your eyes roll back for other reasons, noona.” He tells you after a short pause, biting his lower lip. “I want to make you feel good, that’s all.”

“A leg massage would be great.” You say quickly, trying to keep things PG because Jungkook, frankly, makes you a little nervous when he gets like this. He knows what he’s saying and he definitely knows what his doing to you. Despite his cute baby face and how adorable he could be to you, he wasn’t innocent and he certainly wasn’t a kid anymore.

Jungkook had grown up very, very nicely. With the support and influence of his hyungs, he was a genuinely good person, with a great attitude and he had been a delight to be around the entire time you had known him. Not to mention handsome. So, so handsome. That short kiss the two of you shared had been nice but in all honestly, after it happened you wondered if Jungkook wanted to pretend like it had never happened, because he never mentioned it. You considered that maybe he was just being cautious, that maybe he knew the stakes of changing your fun, playful friendship into something more.

He stood and moved to sit on his bed with you, drawing your feet out from the criss-crossed position you were sitting in, and placing your legs on his lap. He starts by tugging off your shoes and you feel a little bit silly with your socked feet on his lap, but then he presses his fingers into the arch of your left foot and you groan.

His head whips up to look at you in surprise, smirking when he sees the way your brow is furrowed and your head lulled back. “You’re tense, noona. Have you been working hard?”

You nod, but otherwise don’t respond, shutting your eyes and relishing in the feel of his strong hands. He knows just the right places to apply pressure, moving up and flexing your toes before he smooths his hands up your ankles, rubbing your calf muscles, too.

Your eyes open and you realize very quickly that you made a mistake - Jungkook’s forearms are flexing and his gaze is like fire locked on your face, watching your every expression closely. A pull in your lower belly causes heat to pool between your legs, and Jungkook’s hands keep inching farther and farther up your legs. He’s massaging your outer thighs, leaning forward to reach you, and then the tops of them, and his hands keep brushing closer and closer by the second. You think that possibly your heart has stopped, you’re filled with so much anticipation, until his fingers graze the front of your jeans, right over the seam that runs down the middle, and your poor, weak heart picks up double time.

“Jungkook,” You breathe, fingers digging into the duvet you sat on, eyes lidded as you looked down at him.

“Sorry,” He says quickly, “That was an accident.”

You laugh, throwing your head back, hardly able to believe the nerve of this kid. “That was definitely not an accident, Jeongguk.”

“Maybe not.” He admits, scooting a little closer and he lets his knuckles shuffle against the ridge of your jeans between your legs, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” You breathe, chest heaving already.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked all of a sudden, voice low and quiet, eyes alight and his smile hopeful. You nod your head and he moves to sit up on his knees, reaching for your waist with one hand and keeping himself propped up with the other, and for half a second you think that he’s trying to get your pants off but then his eyes are on your lips again, and you lick them swiftly in preparation, and he smiles.

Jungkook kisses you like he thinks you’re made of porcelain. He kisses you softly, with just the slightest pressure and then he’s a breath away from you, checking your expression, making sure this is ok. You reach up and cup his cheek and tug his mouth back to yours and hold him there, your fingers lightly moving to the hair at the back of his head. It’s still a little damp but so, so soft, and Jungkook makes a small humming noise against your lips as you play with his hair.

This is a lot more than the shy first kiss you experienced the other day. Even though you had initiated it, Jungkook was definitely taking the lead, kneading the flesh of your hip and tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he pressed into your mouth.

Your hands fall to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he angles you backwards, climbing over you and situating himself between your legs. You part them eagerly and he grinds briefly down into you, and you moan in surprise into his kisses.

He pulls back to smile down at you, deliberately grinding his hips into you again, harder, and you whimper ever so slightly, a sound he grows desperate to hear you make again, as soon as he can.

“Noona,” He asks you gently, and your eyes flutter open to meet his own in question. “Can I try something?” He asks.

You nod, and he hurries to pull away from you and undo the button of your jeans, only asking you after he’s tugging your zipper down, “Can I take these off of you?”

“Yeah,” You breathed, lifting your hips as he tugs your jeans down and over your butt and then he unhooks them from around each ankle.

His fingers graze between your legs and he’s met with the dampened fabric of your panties, which surprise him. He lifts his head to smile impishly at you, “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already this wet.”

You blush, hiding your face briefly in your hands but Jungkook doesn’t let you, kissing your lips repeatedly as he pulls your hands away and makes you lay them at your sides, “Let me see you, noona.” He insists, “You’re so pretty~”

He focused his efforts on relaxing you, on figuring out what you like most and for a few more minutes, that’s his mouth. He indulges in your lips for a while longer, his fingers gentle as he strokes and pets over your panties, then he begins leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck. That’s when Jungkook realizes that the little whimpers and gasps you make are amplified - so he keeps kissing you there. He can feel the moisture through your underwear was growing more wet by the second and it fuels his ego and boosts his confidence. Plus, your thighs are clenching around his forearm and your fingers are digging into his shoulders with each little gasp he manages to draw from you.

When he first shifts your panties to the side and touches your bare skin, he stops kissing you so that he can watch your expressions again. You keep your eyes shut for the first few seconds as he strokes two finger up and down your labia, but then he presses one finger inside of you and your eyes fly open and you say his name.

“Yes, noona?” He asks you, smiling down at you.

“Keep kissing me.” You pant, looping your arm behind his neck and drawing him to your lips. He’s eager to please, steadily pumping one finger in you while he matches the rhythm with his tongue plunging in and out of your open mouth. Your back arches up off of the mattress and you press your breasts up into his firm chest, and your hands start to paw at his shirt, bunching the material up his back around his shoulderblades until he stops momentarily what he’s doing and let you take it off of him.

“You’re so warm,” You breathe, smoothing your palms up his abdomen and spreading your legs wide as he dips his hand down the front of your panties and continues stroking over your sex. “That feels so good, Kookie.”

“I can make you feel even better.” He promises, “Will you take this off?” He gestures to your shirt, and once again you pull apart only long enough for more clothing to be discarded. Now in nothing but your underwear while Jungkook still had his sweatpants on, you lay back down under him and this time when his mouth falls down on you, it’s to latch onto your neck again.

“Oh, my god.” You sigh, “Your mouth, Jeongguk...fuck.”

He only gets more bold with each sound of pleasure you make. Jungkook is a fast learner and he figures out with only a little bit of concentration that you really, really like it when he latches onto a certain spot of your neck and sucks while he digs the heel of his hand into your clit and pumps his middle finger into your hole.

“Kookie,” You whine, thrashing under him just a little, “Don’t leave hickeys...”

It’s a little too late for that, he thinks, pulling away and sure enough when he looks at his handiwork, there’s a nice, dark red spot on your neck, right where your shoulder begins, and he smiles at you. “Sorry.”

“Fuck.” You breathe. He still has his middle finger slowly pumping in and out of you and it’s hard to care about anything else.

“At least this way they’ll all know you let me please you.” He says.

“Who?” You ask.

“Everyone.” He replies simply, moving his head to the opposite side of your throat and licking over your pulse. His face buried there, he mumbles, voice muffled, “I’d like it if everybody could see the marks I left on you. I want everyone to think you’re taken.”

“Jeongguk,” You moan softly, clenching around his finger, “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Good.” He kisses across your shoulder, then down to your breast, sucking lightly on the top, “You’ve been driving me crazy for weeks. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.”

“You can have me.” You tell him definitively. “Fuck, keep marking me, your mouth feels so good.”

At that, he latches onto your breast, laving around your nipple to harden it first before he sinks his teeth into the skin of your chest in your cleavage, alternating between bites and sucks. Your skin feels white hot between his teeth before he soothes it with his tongue, and he adds a second finger into your dripping heat. His mouth moves back to your opposite breast, biting the nipple very lightly and tugging, only until he heard you gasp and then his eyes flickered up to meet yours and he rolled the hardened bud around the tip of his tongue as he stared at you.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this?” He asks you quietly, shifting forward to briefly kiss your lips, “Beautiful.” He sighs, “All wet and begging. Does this feel nice, noona?”

“Yes,” You sighed, “So good.”

He pressed a third finger into you, effectively stretching you open and making you moan in earnest for him, but even still he asked, “And this?”

“So good,” You moaned, “So, so good, Kookie, god, please don’t stop.”

Jungkook fucks into you a little quicker with his fingers, relishing in the slick sounds of your sex as he alternates between biting, licking and sucking at your breasts. He leaves a smattering of other love bites along your chest and your neck, and just when he’s starting to work up a sweat from pumping his wrist to pleasure you, he feels your inner muscles begin to tense.

He keeps his eyes on your face as he fucks your throught your orgasm, your hips jerking and riding it out on his hand. When you open your eyes, Jungkook is smirking as he removes his fingers and very deliberately presses them to his tongue, sucking the remnants of your orgasm from his digits.

He moves to lay beside of you, chuckling, smug, like he thinks he won whatever little game the two of you have been playing all this time but you know that you’re far from finished with him, and the smirk on his face really makes you want to wipe it off once and for all. You sit up in a hurry and swing your leg over his lap before he can blink, and Jungkook’s laying under you looking mildly surprised.

“I’m not finished with you,” You tell him. “Take off your clothes, Jungkook.”

You shimmy forward, sitting on his lower belly so he can tug his sweatpants down past his hips and then you kick them down his legs along with his boxers. You’re still in your panties, which are thoroughly soaked through, but you don’t hesitate to sit down directly over his erection as you double over to brush your lips across his.

With Jungkook on top and pleasuring you he was cocky but with you on top, that tough guy act he tried to keep on melted away in a heartbeat and as you grinded slowly against his crotch, he immediately started whimpering into your mouth. You swallowed the sounds, drinking them down into your soul and let it bloom into euphoria.

Pulling back, you sat upright on his lap, rocking your hips a little, feeling the generous size of his manhood as he jerked under you, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly to hold you down on him.

“Noona,” He whines, face scrunched up in pleasure as you rock against one another, the thick vein running along the underside of his cock was throbbing up against you, “F-feels so good.”

You shifted off of him, which made him groan in protest, reaching helplessly for your hips to draw you back into place, but you scurried away too fast and were shedding your panties, so he reluctantly let you go. He watches you with a curious expression, unsure what you were gonna do next as you glance around the bedroom from your spot perched on the side of his bed.

“Do you have condoms?” You ask him.

“In the drawer.” He replies.

You find one and rip the packet open, turning back to Jungkook, eyes glued to his erection. It’s thick and long and leaking from the tip, and it jerks in excitement just from having your eyes on it. You smile as you reach for him. The first touch of your hand on his stiff length makes him jerk, his thighs tensing and his stomach muscles bunching. He groans, and you decide that instead of immediately rolling the condom down, you have to have a little fun with the poor, sensitive boy.

So you wrap one hand around him, tossing the condom on his lower stomach for safe keeping, and you move to straddle one of his thighs, pressing your wet heat against him so he can feel how excited you are by the sight of him. Jerking Jungkook off almost feels like torture to both of you. He’s squirming and jerking and whimpering, every breath a small noise that sounds completely unlike the guy who was three fingers deep into you and littering you with hickeys just minutes earlier.

You don’t let up, gripping his shaft tightly and working it slow, paying close attention to the sensitive tip because he makes the cutest sounds when you graze past it or you let your thumb circle over it.

Thinking about the hickeys he left on you earlier, you bend forward and your mouth latches onto his chest, kissing and licking before you bite down on him and he bucks up into your hand in response.

“O-oh, noona~” He cries, “Please...I’ll...I’m gonna-”

You let go before he can finish all over your hand, and focus on climbing higher up his body. He’s toned and chiseled and rock solid all over, from the thick muscle of his cock rubbing through your slick folds as you settle your legs over his waist to the hard contour of his abs and his pecs. You plant one hand on his chest and use the other to roll the condom down over him before you line him up with your entrance and sit down on him slowly, groaning, taking him in inch by inch.

Jungkook’s so close to losing it when he feels the tightness of your cunt that he’s borderline embarrassed of it, and he grips your hips and holds you tight, forcing you to stay still to not trigger him emptying his balls the second he feels any friction between the two of you.

You focus on his neck this time, trying to leave matching hickeys for the ones he gifted you with, following the stinging sensation on you neck and chest to help you map out the designs you leave on Jungkook. He can’t stop moaning and groaning and after a few minutes, he’s bucking up into you, his hands moving to grip your ass cheeks and spread you open wide so he can fuck into you just that little bit deeper.

You moan his name and sit back, grinding your clit down onto his pubic bone and chasing your high. You’re hands plant themselves firmly on his chest and you attempt to control the pace, trying to slow things down, wanting him to last longer because, god it just feels so good, but Jungkook has other plans.

Bigger and stronger than you, he sits up and tosses you onto your back and suddenly your legs are slung over his shoulders and he staring down at you with wild eyes as he pounds away into you, harder, faster, deeper.

“Cum for me.” Jungkook tells you, and it sounds less like a command and more like he’s begging for it - as if the feel of you spasming around him was the only thing that could get him there. And who are you to deny him when he looks so good, hot and sweaty, fucking you so deep that you’re seeing stars.

So you let go at his words, holding tight to his forearms, clawing down them as you throb with release around his cock, and his hips stutter, then his thrusts turn sloppy and he’s burying himself in you as deep as he can possibly get, shoving you up the mattress so your head is hanging off from the bottom of the bed, and you have to hold yourself up. You cling to him harder so you don’t fall while he ruts into you, spilling into the condom and groaning your name over and over.

It’s not until after the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body, giving him a brief case of the shivers, that Jungkook realizes that you’re partially off of his bed and he drags you back to the opposite end, laying you down on the pillows next to him, where he tucked a blanket over your bodies.

Both trying to catch your breath, you lay covered up modestly and smile over at one another. Your each for his hand under the blanket and toy with his fingers, wondering how his eyes could look so vast that they could hold the universe in them.

“I hope that was ok,” He tells you shyly. “I’ve been really wanting to do that for so long.”

“I know, Kookie.” you smile at him, “Me, too. It was definitely better than ‘ok’, it was amazing.”

“Really?” He’s grinning like he’s on cloud nine, and his cheeks immediately tint pink.

“Yeah, really.” You giggle, “You were so good. I always knew you would be, though.” You shuffle a little closer, craving his body heat, “You’re good at everything.”

That seems to really make him feel embarrassed for some reason, and he ducks his head between your shoulder and the pillow, mumbling into your skin with a small voice, “Ah~ I think I love you.”

You grin broadly at his adorable confession, and thread your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead sweetly, "Good. I think I love you, too.”

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jeongguk #kookie #mine #i love this boy so so so so so so so so SO MUCH!!!

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veridium · 5 years

Text

Ficlet: “All Work + Some Play”

Theia Trevelyan x Josephine Montilyet

Category: SMUT. IN THIS ECONOMY? IT’S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK.

Warning + Author’s Note: #NSFW for explicit sexual content. (It’s been 84 years...I know...)

She knew where to find her. She’d always know where to find her; forever and always. Another night working her fingers to the bone writing and surveying the war council table, candles and torches illuminating where the long-fallen sun couldn’t. Theia slipped in between the door and saw her there, standing and not bothering to look up. Nose crinkled, brow low, mouth mumbling numbers without voice.

She found her.

With a smirk and a shut door, Theia walked slow. “My love, you work for deadlines answerable to no one higher than yourself, and yet you still act as if you are on someone else’s dial,” she observed, hips dragging.

Josephine, ever the one for focus, kept writing. “Theia, you pretend I control the world’s time at the touch of my thumb,” she replied, a touch of absent-minded distance in her tone. Oh, that simply wouldn’t do.

“Josephine,” she said, low and playfully chiding as she ran her fingers through her white hair, “have you gotten the impression that I am dismissable?”

The Ambassador wrote more, quill hissing against the paper. “Never, what would--” Josephine’s eyes glanced up to see no one standing there even though she was sure Theia had simply been standing on the other side of the table, stepping heavy and smiling. Looking around, she blinked and parted her lips.

Theia had gotten too used to Fade-walking ever since being promoted as a Knight Enchanter. To be fair, it had its versatile uses, one of which was getting herself to where she needed to be: up against her woman’s back, hands slipping around her sides. One going up to her chest and the other...well, the opposite direction.

With her mouth to her ear, Theia reformed full in the flesh, a subtle grin on her teeth. She laughed, hushed and sinister but with the best intentions. Josephine gave out what sounded like a soft exhale, a wanting one, but controlled.

“You may dismiss me, but I’ll have your full attention for it.”

Josephine leaned into her, just enough, just the right amount for Theia to know she didn’t abhor her trick completely. “Amor, you cannot be insinuating that I would…”

“I’m not insinuating…” Theia smiled, teeth grading on the rim of her ear, “I’m asking. Begging, if I must.”

“W-what has gotten into you? Did you have too much wine with dinner?”

She was stalling. Distracting her ego. Josephine played well; all it took was one appeal to Theia’s vanity and she would have her spun out from her agenda. Explaining and bantering on about how she wasn’t drunk, and she didn’t need to be. A move, tried and true, but Theia learned.

She smirked, removing her hands from their more direct destinations, grabbing Josephine by the shoulders and turning her around to face her. No farther than a breath between their mouths as she looked at her lips with hunger.

And Josephine was grinning. Distracted, but tempted. Her skin, her freckles, her blemishes that compiled her like a watercolor come to life. How could she resist her?

Theia’s thumb and index finger curled under her lover’s chin. “If it is work you wish to make you sweat, by all means, work.”

Josephine tilted her head. “...the look in your eyes says that is anything but a concession on your part.”

“Work, Josephine,” Theia hummed, tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth as her hands slipped low.

Josephine blushed an ember hue in her cheeks as Theia unhitched her belt. With her other hand she grabbed the quill the Ambassador had set down, placing it back in her hand where it rightfully belonged. Everything in her face was saying you cannot be serious, but her arching back and hot exhalations said you better be.

“Theia…” Josephine mumbled, grip clenching on the the quill in one hand and the edge of Theia’s vest rim with the other, every single scruple said it was wrong. That it was unsightly. That it was not good practice to sully a place of collective congress.

But then Theia slipped her mouth up her neck, agape and ravenous, but not daring to cut or bite. And she moaned. Breathless, light, an escape, but a moan nonetheless. Then Theia had found her way to the lace layer of smalls, the final line between her hand and where she wanted to feel. Josephine spread her knees and secured them around Theia’s hips, one of her slippers falling off of her feet and onto the floor.

“Work,” Theia moaned against her, palm pressing against her entrance, warm and pressured to perfection.

Josephine swallowed, eyes blinking open and shut in flutters. “I...I have to...I have to return the correspondence to Lord Selstin--” the name collapsed into another moan as Theia pressed harder, in both her grip and her mouth. Theia held back a devious smile.

“Mhm,” she growled against the crook of her jaw, “and what of the requisitions?”

“Agh, those must be quanitified and appropriated to the...the...the!” Josephine gripped against her sharply feeling heat against her inner thighs. Theia had mastered the art of ignition for one task and one task only -- burning through the Orlesian lace that was artfully made to be torn asunder. Josephine rubbed a knee higher against the side of her waist.

But, like all things with Josephine Montilyet, it had only been a matter of time before she would take the momentum of the play and harness it for her own needs. She guided Theia’s mouth to hers, and as they both smiled against each other’s lips, she cooed.

“And then there are the acquisitions from the treaties we consolidated last week,” she whispered, “all seven of them, written and censu--” a crack in her throat as Theia’s index and middle fingers brushed into her, sweeping against her and meeting no resistance. She exhaled against her lover’s mouth, Theia keeping her gaze on her as she continued her rhythm. Onward, faster, but with a depth of someone who could not help herself but know every since inch of her.

She bit down playfully on Josephine’s lip, her free hand pulling down one of her stockings so as to feel the smoothness and bristled hair on her thigh, elbow bending up until she got all the way to the top of her knee. Josephine’s breathing only grew quicker and desperate. Her hand planted behind her snapping the quill in half as she braced against her more and more. She would rip the vest if she could, but she would have to settle for biting down on the collar of it.

She wrapped her arm around Theia’s neck as the Inquisitor remained unwavering in pursuit of what she wanted. She was so warm, so wet, abundant in her hand that it made her heart beat as if it would rupture from her chest. She felt a symbiotic surge of energy in between her own hips, a sympathetic insurgence that told her everything she needed to know about how close she was. How close they were.

She kissed against Josephine’s neck some more. Leaning into her and feeling helpless as she felt Josephine’s hips grind slow against her hand. She loved it when she did that.

A crack, a higher pitch, pushing past a boundary. Close, so close.

Theia clutched the side of Josephine’s bare thigh, her lips to her ear.

“Please, Josephine, please,” she moaned with a desperation no one in the world would know but her. The salted layer of sweat chilling the top of Theia’s lip as it touched her cheek. “Please…” her hand went fast, but not recklessly. Fast as in determined, honed on the spot just to the right of her clit. The spot that was too much and never enough.

Josephine’s voice went higher, more wistful, and her back arched with an immediacy that was tell-tale. Her fingers and knees pressed unforgivingly against Theia’s body and she moaned, moaned like no one else could hear, over and over. Railing, crashing, waving. Cracking and cresting.

Theia found the spot and pressed, rhythm finding its limit and then surpassing it. It was what made it go so long, so urgent, so unrelenting.

“Theia!” Josephine cried into her shoulder when she did, a reprimand and a rejoicing. She tilted her head back, allowing for Theia to sink her mouth in the valley of her neck above her collar bone. No layers or robes could get in the way.

Then, the release from the brink.

Josephine eased, muscles giving into blissful looseness. Theia’s hand pulled her stocking up smoothly, and all at once she had her hand at the small of her back as she guided her to lay down on the table. Flat on her back and cutting through Seheron, the Ambassador’s chest heaved up into the air with reverie.

Theia, retracted her hand, slipping out from its sanctum and helping to anchor her as she leaned over her. She beheld her, chest close to hers.

Josephine opened her eyes at last, pupils fixating on her lover as she gazed down upon her.

“Anything else, Ambassador?” Theia teased as she brushed her thigh between her legs, making her shiver once more.

Josephine chuckled breathlessly, followed by a tsk on her tongue. She kneed Theia in the side, making her fall forward more until their noses nearly touched.

“Yes...Inquisitor,” she exhaled, holding her hand in a fist between their necks. A soft smile, victorious. “You owe me a replacement quill. I must finish these ledgers before midnight. And I prefer the...fine-tipped and polished variety...please.”

Theia raised a brow. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to insist on more, she wanted to defy that smugness of hers and until she had nothing left to say but scream. But, looking down into her brilliant green and hazel-toned eyes, Theia saw everything she loved about her. Everything that was formidable and worthy of exaltation. She would make love to her in so many ways, so many kinds of ways, and be the better for it. She pressed her lips to hers out of sacred reverence, before it would be back to work.

#oc stuff #theia trevelyan #theia x josephine #HERE THERE BE SMUT #Idk why I just did this but it was like a fever dream #and look it's my original otp being in love #*cries*#f!inquisitor x josephine montilyet #josephine montilyet

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