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pars-ley · 1 year ago

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I...do? (part one)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x f. reader (ft Jung Hoseok briefly) Summary: Based on the film ‘the proposal’ - You hate your boss. He's rude, arrogant and conceited, not to mention works you to the bone, day and night. So walking into one of his meetings, where he announces your upcoming wedding, you being shocked is the least of it. But when he threatens the career you've worked so hard for, can you still say no to his proposal? Genre: Enemies to lovers au / CEO au / fake dating au / colleagues to lovers au / co-workers to lovers / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 18+ (future chapters will be nfsw) Warnings (per chapter): blackmail / manipulation / rudeness / angst W/C: 2.9k Banner: @shadowkoo you are amazing Beta: @beomcoups and @cherrysoulth thank you so much! Notes: So this has been in the works for about four fucking years now and I’ve decided to do this as a series and i’m finally ready to start posting! Sorry to anyone who has been waiting. This was originally for the 'spring will come again' event with @bangtanarmynet Please, share and comment, it will really help with motivation for writing, which I have been lacking for a while. Thank you so much for reading! Taglist: @ladyartemesia @taestannie @somewhereofftheglobe @moonchild1 @taebangtanbabe @leedoesntknaur @siadreams @m-1234

It’s a lovely spring morning; the trees are green, and the flowers are beginning to bloom. The sun is out and the air is fresh. You have one of the most beautiful views in the city outside your office, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the new growth and warm weather. You’re relaxing into your seat, basking in it…that is, until the elevator down the hall stops on your floor, and you know exactly who's about to step off. You type out your usual frantic message to everyone in their office cubicles in the expanse between the elevators and his office, which you sit directly outside of, and hit send.

Y/n: Satan is entering the gates of hell

Everyone rushes frantically back to their desks. Hushed whispers sound across the void, filling the atmosphere with nervous energy. The elevator dings and silence is instant. You watch as your boss struts along, ignoring everyone else’s presence entirely.

“Good morning, sir,” you remark with a polite smile as soon as he reaches your desk, to which he strides past you, straight into his office. Resisting the urge to make a sarcastic remark, you focus back on your work, but your irritation grows towards him. Your patience is already thin this morning.

Discreetly, you glance in his direction, noting the way he sits behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, leg crossed casually over the other, and flipping through document pages with an arrogance you can see, even from here. You absolutely hate how good-looking he is. Why does someone so infuriating get to look like that? It somehow makes his whole attitude even worse.

His low voice calling your name snaps your attention. "Get in here."

Sliding your chair out from under your desk, you follow orders.

“Yes, Mr Kim, ” you respond, standing with hands clasped in front of you. Your posture and all-black attire, particularly the skirt, were requested by him.

“Where was my usual tea this morning?” he asks, eyes unwavering from the pages he's absorbed in.

“The shop was closed this morning, sir, and I thought it best not to go to the other one, as you told me their tea 'looks and tastes like noodle soup.'” Your heart races with annoyance, as you chew the inside of your lip, attempting to hold back any smart-arse remarks.

I’ll tell you where I’d like to put your tea, sir, I’d shove it right up your-

“Then, what is this?” He points to the mug you left on his desk in replacement, a look of disdain twisting his face.

“That’s the tea I made for you, Sir.”

His eyes meet yours for a second with a hard stare. “Right, well next time, how about...don’t.”

Your teeth clamp together, jaw tensing as you struggle to bite back your retort, instead opting to take the tea and down it right in front of him. The hot liquid burns your throat as it slides down uncomfortably, and you carefully place the mug back on his desk, wiping the corners of your mouth with your fingertips.

"Is that better, sir?" You smile sweetly, but it’s written all over his face that he knows it’s not genuine judging by the glare he throws your way.

Your stomach somersaults nervously, worrying you've gone too far before his eyes fall back down to his paper.

“I have an unscheduled meeting in twenty minutes, it’s important, so make sure I am not disturbed by anyone. Are we clear?” He meets your eyes again, the intimidating aura he radiates hitting you fiercely.

“Y-yes, Mr Kim. Should I delay the ten o’clock meeting then?”

“You’re a smart girl; figure it out.”

He looks back down at his work, seeming bored of your presence, but you stand there aghast as to what you can reply to that without getting fired.

“Get out.” He waves a hand, dismissing you.

"Right away, sir." You bow dramatically before leaving and closing the door, forcing yourself not to slam it and wishing you could go and scream into a pillow.

Mr Kim Taehyung can kiss your arse.

Sitting back down at your desk, searching for anything to get your mind off the frustratingly rude man, when your mobile phone rings, surprising you. Even more so when you see it's your mum.

"Yes, mama, I'll be down this weekend," you say quietly into your phone once you're finally able to get a word in. Keeping your voice low to avoid your slave driver of a boss hearing your personal call.

Your mother’s squeal makes you giggle. "Like I'd miss my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary celebration."

"How long are you staying for this time? It's been too long since I've seen my baby!" she stresses.

You can't help the smile that tugs at your mouth. "I know, mama, I'm still working on that."

"You need to tell that boss of yours that enough is enough before he ends up working you to the bone!" Her disapproving tone makes you feel at home.

You see Mr Kim heading your way, "Hmm-mmm, listen, ma, I've got to go; I'll see you this weekend. Love you." You hang up abruptly and get straight back to typing.

"Personal calls should be taken at personal times," he says firmly, heading off down the hall.

Heat flashes up your chest, and your attempt to bite down a retort wavers, "That would mean me being allowed a personal life, sir, " you call after him.

His steps falter for a brief moment before continuing on with not another word or so much as a glance in your direction.

You swallow and let out the breath you didn't realise you'd been holding, envisioning hurling your phone at the back of his head. I wonder how hard I'd have to throw it to knock him unconscious or to at least give him a concussion.

Taking a long breath and trying not to grind your teeth, something that has become a habit lately and focusing back on your workload.

A short while later, Mr Kim is sitting in his unscheduled “important” meeting, meaning you could blissfully get on with paperwork without interruption. However, glancing up from your computer, you notice how tense and somewhat uncomfortable Mr Kim looks, something most uncharacteristic of him. So it does not surprise you when your work phone vibrates loudly at your desk. Looking down, you see the message "Save me," sent from him, your usual code system to get him out of something he really doesn't want to be part of anymore.

Getting up from your desk and striding across the space, you knock quietly on the door before entering.

"Sir, you have an urgent call on--"

"Ah, here she is," Mr Kim beams at you, a sight that is not only shocking because of how rare it is but also how breathtakingly gorgeous his smile is. You stand there frozen in your spot, unsure what has caused this sudden change in his mood. "No need to stand on ceremony, sweetheart; Mr. Jung is well aware of our upcoming nuptials."

You stare at him blankly, wondering if he's perhaps having some kind of stroke and considering whether or not you should call an ambulance. He comes over to your rooted feet by the door, and before you can say anything, his arm winds around your waist and guides you over to his desk. You're hyper-aware of his hand on you in such an intimate manner and it infuriates you, boiling your blood liquid hot in your veins. It feels like everything's moving in slow motion while you attempt to piece together all the chaotic thoughts happening in your mind, but nothing makes any sense.

Upcoming nuptials? Hell would have to freeze over more than once for you to be hitched to a man as rage-inducing as him. In fact, you'd rather be a miserable, shrivelled-up spinster living with a household full of cats than walk down an aisle where he's waiting for you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, and please, call me Hoseok." Mr Jung stands up and shakes your hand, offering you a dazzling grin. You don't fail to notice his suspicious gaze raking over you and your boss. "So, a wedding, that sure is exciting, huh?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow as he waits for your response.

You feel Mr Kim's hand dig into your waist, sparking you to say, "Yes, very. Who doesn't love a wedding?"

Hoseok laughs. "It's true, they are such joyous occasions. Are you prepared? Is everything set, I mean?"

Before you can say anything, you hear your boss's baritone voice beside you, sending vibrations through your body and muddling your mind even more. "There are still a few things here and there to take care of, but I have faith it will all be done in time."

"Perfect." The man smiles at you. "So your families know about this wedding?"

Hell, I didn't even know about it, so they definitely don't.

"I don't have any family; both my parents died years ago, no siblings or grandparents alive," Mr Kim admits, voice impassive. You can't help but be surprised by this new piece of information. You’re unsure if that was true or part of his weird ruse, but your heart tugs a little at imagining someone not having anyone, even someone as vile as him.

"Oh, I am sorry," Hoseok offers, "and what about your family?" He aims at you.

"We were planning on telling her family this weekend," Mr Kim interjects. “It's her parents' wedding anniversary, so we thought we'd go up there for the bank holiday and surprise them, didn't we, sweetheart?"

You clench your teeth together to stop your mouth from popping open in shock. He squeezes you closer to his side, a movement that has you tensing your jaw in an attempt to keep the searing in your veins down to a minimum.

"Yes, yes, we are," you add, forcing a smile.

"So what happens now?" Mr Kim asks.

You glance up at him, then at Hoseok, who seems to be scrutinising your every move. You resist the urge to squirm uncomfortably in Mr Kim's grasp.

"Well, you'll both have to come in for an interview at some point. Provided you both pass this stage and I deem this marriage legitimate then, we'll fill in the necessary paperwork, you'll no longer be deported and your new visa will be valid."

You no longer hear the words being said, everything becoming muffled and moving in slow motion. Deportation!? Legitimate marriage!? That's why he's made this up, so he can stay in the country.

You feel your stomach drop to your feet, heavy, yet threatening to shoot up and out of your mouth, decorating his office carpet.

"Great. Is there anything else you need from us, Mr Jung?"

He taps his chin and stares at you quizzically. "Just make sure neither of you are lying, then we'll have no problems. A fine and prison time is not to be looked at lightly."

What!? You laugh nervously. "People actually get sent to prison for that?"

He nods. "Sure, it happens all the time. You could face up to five years in prison and a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and yet people still think that they can trick us." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Anyway, I'll be sending you both a letter about when and where your interview will occur, most likely in a few weeks, I look forward to seeing you both then."

You shake hands before he's gone and both of you are rooted to the spot, staring after him.

Soon enough, Mr Kim moves back around to his desk, flicking through his papers, his eyes focused as if nothing out of the ordinary has just happened.

You stand there frozen, waiting for some kind of explanation, and when nothing comes, you speak up, "Excuse me, sir, but what was that?"

He sighs as if bored by your presence and continues to focus on the files in front of him. "They were going to fire me once I got deported and give Mr Park my job."

You stare at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Don't worry, we'll get married and get a quickie divorce. It will be over in no time."

You feel like your feet will surely collapse from the weight of this burden that has suddenly become yours. Without asking or consenting, you've ended up in a situation you're unsure how to deal with or get out of.

"Sir," you finally speak, breaking through your stunned silence and swallowing the burning you feel rising into your throat. "I cannot marry you."

Finally, he drops his papers and meets your panicked eyes. "Listen, you don't really have a choice; if you don't, I'll fire you and ensure that any new job you apply for will have zero interest in hiring you. I'll make something up so terrible you'll be blacklisted, and where will that leave you, after all the hard work you've put in during the last three years? Hmm?"

You stare into his cold, dark eyes and know there's no hint of a lie or an exaggeration in his words.

“All of those late nights runs to the grocery store for me, all the weekend calls and late night working will have been for nothing.”

You struggle to find the words, feeling your world crashing in on you and smothering you beyond belief. Feeling yourself being pushed against a rock and a mountain with nowhere to escape, when all your legs want to do is run.

You suck deep breaths into your lungs.

He would ruin your career and everything you've worked so hard for. In one fell swoop, your life would be over. For the last three years your job has been everything, not allowing an ounce of a social life; no holidays and no relationships, nothing has existed outside of your job.

Not to mention, how could you afford your apartment if you had no job? You'd have to move back home with your parents to small-town life...the thought made your stomach churn, that was more frightening than anything.

"If I do this, I'm taking a big risk here, so I'm going to need some assurances."

He smirks, sinking back into his chair and folding his arms across his chest. The material of his blazer stretched across his bicep muscles, giving him an even more intimidating edge.

"I wasn't aware you were in a position to make demands."

Your hands clench into fists at your sides, longing to make a connection to his perfectly chiselled jaw, as anger bubbles inside the deepest pit of hatred you have for this man.

"I could go to prison! You're not asking me to go on a business trip; you're asking me to marry you so you can stay in the country! So, you either give me what I want, or I quit here and now, and bye-bye, Mr Kim, hello, Mr Park." turning towards his office door, your face flushes with angry heat. Feeling brazen and reckless, two can play at this game and if you are going to do this, you are damn sure you're going to make it worth your while.

"Wait," he says quickly.

Glancing back, you watch the smugness on his features slowly die as he realises how serious you are. "What is it you want?"

"A promotion. Not a bullshit one you make up so I can continue assisting you either."

He sighs and massages his temples. "Ok, ok, fine. How about the head of a department?"

You've wanted that since you started at this company; ever since you were hired, that has been your focus and the only thing getting you through this role.

"Hm, which department?" You act coy, knowing there's only one answer you want to hear.

He rubs his face and groans, his cool, calm exterior well and truly forgotten. "Design. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Taken aback by how he could have known that you pause for a moment before composing yourself once again. "Yes. I want it in writing and signed by you."

"Fine."

You nod, feeling a triumphant bloom expand in your chest.

"Are we done here?" He asks.

"Ask me nicely."

His hands come down hard on the desk; an exasperated look withers his face. "What?"

"Ask me nicely to marry you."

His mouth pops open, closes, and opens again. His cheeks flush, and the sight makes you smile. Who would have thought something so simple would make him blush?

"That's ridiculous."

"Ok, goodbye, Mr Kim; I wish I could say nice knowing you." You turn and push his office door open.

"Alright," he calls. "Just….shut the door."

You can hear the pleading in his voice, knowing how desperate he is and wondering how much you should take advantage of that. You do as he says, step back into the room, and watch with unashamed amusement as he stands up and rounds his desk, closing the gap between you rather sheepishly.

He takes a deep breath as his eyes stay fixed on your blazer's lapels. "Will-"

"On one knee, please." You interrupt.

His cheeks darken as he prepares to argue, but he second-thinks as his eyes flit desperately between yours. He slowly sinks down onto the ground at your feet and plasters on a fake and yet still dazzling smile, "Will you, please, marry me?" he finally says, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

For a moment, you enjoy the sight of him on his knees in front of you, looking up through thick eyelashes, but your abhorrence of him stops your mind from going any further.

"Fine," you reply with a smirk as you walk out, leaving him staring at your back. If you are doing this for him, you sure as hell are going to make him pay for it.

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tsumskz · 1 year ago

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valentine’s day with your plug

stoner eren x reader

Tw: smut, mentions of weed and smoking, breeding and oral

just a little late valentine’s day post

Eren Yeager, the most well known suppler in your town. if you weren’t getting your stuff from him then who were you getting it from ?

not only did he have some of the best weed you’ve ever smoked but he was gorgeous, and quite frankly that made your blood boil. it was the brown hair that laid perfectly on his shoulders, half always tied up in a little bun at the back of his head. and those beautiful green eyes that always hung low when you saw him and would catch yourself getting lost in if you stared too long. he was hot and he knew it.

whenever you were in need of bud you dreaded having to hit him up because it’d either take hours for a response or he would leave you on read and randomly show up at your place saying “here”.

you’re sure he thought his looks could make up for his shitty service, but i guess it does because you go back everytime no matter how much it pisses you off.

well today was the same as every other day expect for the fact that it was valentine’s day so all of your friends were busy with their boyfriends and getting laid, blah blah blah and you happened to be violently single but at least you have weed right ?

oh damn i forgot i’m out…

…FUCK IM OUT

god this can’t be happening. it’s valentine’s day and you’re out. eren HAS to have plans tonight, there’s no way he doesn’t and youre gonna be stuck here. bored. sober. alone.

you might as well try to text him and see if there’s a slim chance he’s able to drop by.

walking to your room you contemplate what you’re gonna say, grabbing your phone tapping your fingers till you get to his contact. how do you do this without sounding like a loser ?

6:46pm. you: hey, was wondering if you’d be able to drop by tonight ? wasn’t sure if you’d be busy

now we wait. putting down your phone you go back to what you were occupied with before this catastrophe happened. you suspected it to either take hours or possibly you wouldn’t get a text back at all.

6:55pm. eren: nah i’m not busy tn, should be able to stop by in 10. that cool ?

you swear your stomach sinks to your feet when you hear your phone ding. you knew it wasn’t any of your friends so maybe he wasn’t doing anything after all.

“odd” you thought to yourself that’s definitely the longest message he’s ever texted you before, it was never any longer than a quick “yeah” or “be there in 10”. wonder what’s gotten into him

texting him back a quick “sounds good” you go to sit on the couch waiting for the notification for you to come outside to his car.

7:10. still no eren. you knew this would happen. its never the time he says. god he’s so fucking stupid i’m done goi-

*DING DONG*

you nearly jump out of your seat. heart now pounding out of your chest as you walk up to the door confused as to who it could be since you definitely weren’t expecting anyone to knock.

opening the door you begin to notice a familiar face…eren.

why was he at your door ? the mere sight of him makes your stomach churn with seems like anger. never has he once showed up and knocked on your door.

why is your heart racing? …

“the front door ? that’s new” snarky comment making him laugh. you felt awkward. was he trying to invite himself in ? you had so many questions running thru your mind but you were assuming it was nothing

“felt like saving you the longg walk from here to my car” he says dragging out long with a dramatic voice throwing his head back and bending his knees

“surprised you’re not busy with all the ladies that are probably dying to rip your pants off” ignoring his stupid joke. your hand reaches out to grab what he actually came here for but you’re met with nothing, like he wants to stand here talking to you more.

“ gotta keep them on their toes, you know. can’t make it easy or else i would’ve had back to back dates tonight” you were done with conversation already. you just wanted to get your stuff, watch some stupid rom-com and eat a burger the size of your head. he was getting in the way with that.

“haha. can i just have my stuff?” clearly annoyed he hands you the small little baggie, as you’re about to say thank you and close to the door on his face. you notice he’s not moving at all. looking at you like a lost puppy dog that showed up at your door.

he was definitely trying to invite himself in but he didn’t know how. “if you want to come in you could just say so” attempting to be nice you give him a smile.

“it’s okay, i don’t wanna intrude especially if you have a date or something” you laugh at him, his face turning a red tone as if he said something wrong. god you feel bad.

“i’m not doing anything tonight hence why i asked you to come by but if you wanna hang for a bit be my guest” wishing you would’ve shut yourself up but it was too late to take it back. you couldn’t believe you invited him in. you’re stuck now.

no words were said as you took a step back swaying to the side to gesture him in. he seemed hesitant for a second, but he enters. taking a couple uncomfortable waddles in before stopping in his tracks to kinda get a vibe your living space

it was clean. tv turned on to a random show on netflix. couch covered with cute pillows and blankets, coffee table with weed paraphernalia neatly organized but he was more fascinated with the way you’re dressed. maroon sweatpants and grey zip up that had your high schools name on the front. no makeup. so effortlessly beautiful.

“come” patting the couch you usher him to sit next to you. opening the baggie of bud, crumbling off a piece to put in the bowl of your most precious bong. offering him the greens since he is a quest in your house.

“how sweet of you” he says giving you a over exaggerated smile making you softly hit him on the arm. it was weird having him right here. you realized you’ve never smoked with him before. you’ve never seen him in such a intimate setting. it made you feel some kind of way.

a couple hours past. you guys ended smoking and chatting as if you knew each other for years and were catching up. it felt nice even tho you were dead set on the plans you thought of originally like getting food. mmm food the munchies were starting to hit hard.

“you hungry ?” you said being so serious because there was no way you were messing around when it came to eating rn and by the look on his face he wasn’t either.

“god i thought you’d never ask” staring dead into each other yes, breaking out into a laughing fit. you both decided to make your way to the kitchen and see what there was to make. letting him do all the work of course.

you’re sat up on counter while he’s looking thru the cupboards. hoping he can find something good because at this point you don’t even remember what’s in there.

“ahh mac and cheese ?” he says excitedly holding up a box of probably soon to be expired mac and cheese. you nod in agreement pretending like you aren’t practically drooling at the thought of it.

he starts boiling the water. “why don’t you have plans tonight ? didn’t expect you to be a lonly guy” you interrupt the silence to ask the question you’ve been wondering this whole time.

“i’m not a whore like you think i am. i just sell weed to people and the flirting keeps them coming back” shocked by his answer you can’t say that’s not a solid strategy. he goes to drain the pasta before adding the rest of the stuff, handing you a bowl.

“you don’t flirt with me tho” blurting out your response, he turns towards you. looking you up and down, getting just close enough you could feel his breath on your face.

“you’re different” your face getting hotter by the second. not sure how to respond because you didn’t know if this was his tactic or genuine emotion.

“how so?” twiddling your finger together looking down a little embarrassed for asking.

“idk everyone treats me like im just some hot piece of meat that can get them their fix” he says looking down with you.“but you, you act cold towards me and i find that so hot ” you felt like you were gonna faint at his words.

“ i’ve always thought you were just an asshole with a pretty face” his cheeks turning a pale pink.

“pretty?” he inches closer to your face so you’re just inches away from touching each other lips. “yeah, so pretty it makes me mad” those were the last words said before his lips are crashing into yours.

unsure if it was the weed or the fact his lips felt so good but you kissed him back without realizing. lips moving in sync like they were made for each other.

feeling like you couldn’t catch your breath, you pull away catching a good look at his face, red and flustered. you’ve never seen anything like this before and you never wanted to forget it. pulling him by the neck to continue he picks you up walking you both over to the couch. putting you down softly. breaking the kiss.

“this okay?” he says with genuine concern on his face. hes scared. scared hes gonna mess this up.

“more than” huge smile forming on his lips, he maneuvers himself on top of you between your legs. kissing your neck making his way down to your stomach.

he unbottons your pants so plainly slow that you’re about to rip them off yourself. he kisses your pussy thru your underwear making you gasp at the sensation of his cold lips on you, mumbling a low “fuck” before bucking your hips begging for more.

“don’t be so impatient baby” the pet name making your stomach turn with lust. you had to have him. you need him now.

your bottom half now undressed he makes you wait even longer by licking and biting your plush thighs, making you squirm. “please eren”. you’ve never been so desperate especially for someone that you hated a couple hours ago.

his tongue laid its first lick down your slit. it was soft, gentle. unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, other guys were rough and thought flicking felt good. how’d he become so good you couldn’t shake that thought from your mind. were you jealous ?.

“it feels so good, please keep going” bitting your hand to hopefully quiet yourself down because you knew you were being too loud. his tongue felt like heaven, but when he slipped one of his long finger into you was when you lost your mind. there was no way you weren’t gonna start screaming his name.

“eren fuck i’m gonna cum” without any hesitation he curls his fingers up hitting a spot that made you see stars. back arching, strings of curse words fall from your mouth as you cum. you’re panting like a dog trying to regain yourself.

eren sits up wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie, rubbing your inner thighs till you’ve finally come back from your mind blowing orgasm.

“that was crazy” you said laughing but you heard nothing but silence from eren, he looked uncomfortable then glancing down a bit you could tell why. he was so hard that you could see him throbbing thru his pants.

“come here, let me help you” you say pushing his shoulders down till his head in laying on the arm of the couch. crawling on top of him you leaning down catching his lips once again, tasting yourself. this time the kiss was hungry. like two wild animals fighting over who was superior. you grind your hips against his clothed cock hissing at the overstimulation from cumming not too long ago.

his hands raising up under your shirt giving your nipples a couple rolls of his thumb. hiding your face in his neck, sucking here and there unknowingly leaving marks that you knew he’d get upset about later.

“do you mind?” you say playing with the zipper of his pants. he gives you a nod of consent before you’re pulling down his pants along with his boxers. it springs up as you stare at the size of his intimidatingly large cock.

“you like what you see” jokingly punching his chest you come back up so your pussy is alined with his cock, he motions you to sit up a bit and he angles the tip so it’s at your entrance, sliding down a bit it was already a huge stretch but you were determined to make it fit. both of you hissing in sync till it was fully in.

“it’s so tight” he moans grabbing your hips to slide you up and back down, slowly to not hurt you. the stretch felt so good you began to move on your own craving more of him. groans could be heard from both of you just enjoying the moment and the feeliing of being connected.

“oh im gonna cum” you whispered in his ear “im so close” you keep rocking up and down till his strong hands flip you both over so he’s on top, putting you in mating press.

“i’m close too, cum with me baby” his words thick like honey dripping its way into your ear. you pussy clenching hard trying to get that last bit of stimulation to tip over the edge.

knowing just what to do his hand snakes between you both to place a thumb on your clit. that’s exactly what you neeed before you’re moaning his name and squirming trying to get away as gush around his cock.

“you gonna let me cum in you ?” he’s panting hard but he can’t seem to focus on anything besides cumming your tight pussy.

“cum in me please” the neediness in you voice is all it takes for his hips to come to a halt as he’s pumping you full. you can feel his heart beating as he slumps down on your chest. the same awkwardness from before filling the air as you both come to your senses.

awkwardly get up putting your clothes back on, not saying a word to each other. you head to the bathroom to pee and return, sitting back on the couch packing another bowl and handing it to him. he takes a long hit. resulting in him coughing, he hands it back to you.

“guess valentine’s day wasn’t so boring this year” he manages the get out between coughs. slumping back on the couch looking at the tv watching whatever was playing.

“definitely wasn’t expecting this” your own joke making you laugh, catching his attention. eyes now on you. the silence was deadly but you didn’t have anything to say.

“i like you” he says quietly not sure if you heard him but he knows you did when he notices your face begin to burn firetruck red.

“when did you come to that conclusion?” interested in what he was gonna say because you’re sure it was an in the moment confession nothing he was feeling before today.

“ever since the first time i sold to you, you were beautiful and i never knew how to make the first move until today” your mouth hangs open because never in a million years would you have thought that the guy you despised had completely opposite feelings.

“i had no idea”

“i figured” he takes another hit from your bong before getting up grabbing his things and heading for the door “uh i gotta go, just hit me up next time you need anything”

“wait” you walk over to him, body moving for you confused as to why you got up before blurting out something you couldn’t take back.

“i like you too” coming to the conclusion that those were you feelings all along, not hatred or anger but love.

he smiles at you before leaning in to give you one last finally kiss before heading out the door.

#eren yeager smut #smut #aot #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #tsumhal #aot smut #armin aot #aot x reader #eren smut #attack on titan smut

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angiethebangie · 6 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ★CH 4: ILL INTENTIONS (DV)★ˎˊ˗

Ding!

The piercing chime of bells filled his senses and jolted him from his peaceful slumber. Groaning, Finral kicked at the lightweight covers his limbs were tangled in.

A muffled sound escaped him as he buried his face deeper into the pillow he was currently being smothered by, desperate for at least a couple more minutes of rest.

He barely got any sleep, feeling no more energized than last night. Why does the town’s bell always have to ring this early?

Unfortunately, his new job constantly required him to be alert and prepared to deliver unanticipated messages at a moment’s notice.

Groggily, he slowly blinked his eyes open, his mind lingering on fragments of outlandish dreams. After they adjusted to the streams of light seeping through his window, he carefully maneuvered himself to sit up.

Extending out his wings, Finral’s back arched as he reached his arms up. A lengthy yawn left his lips, eyes watering as he furiously rubbed them in an attempt to regain his focus back to reality.

He felt his wings flutter, turning his head over to see them all ruffled up. Shaking off the last remnants of drowsiness, Finral took to gently caressing his fingers through the disheveled feathers. It was yet another routine that Lilance had drilled into him since childhood– a grounding practice he couldn’t begin his day without doing.

There were countless habits he wanted to leave behind, but some still stuck with him more than he’d like to admit.

Finral could pretend as much as he’d please, that he never picked up any self-destructive characteristics from his past. He could pretend as though he didn’t unconsciously pull at the ragged feathers when things become too stressful or overwhelming. He could act like he didn’t flinch at every loud noise or sudden touch. But, all it would be is a fragile lie. Just like most of his life was, apparently.

Deciding that his wings looked presentable enough, Finral swung his legs over the side of his bed, abruptly standing up.

A sudden wave of dizziness struck him, his head feeling unnaturally light. He brought his hands up to rub at his temples, lowering his head as he waited for the feeling to sink away.

Once the throbbing subdued, Finral shuffled towards the mirror.

At the sight of his messy hair, he brushed his fingers through the golden-brown strands. It did little to nothing, the curls still stubbornly sticking out. Huffing, he tried pressing the wisp of hair down, hoping it would stay. After a few seconds of holding it, he slowly lifted his fingers off.

Finral almost thought it worked, until the curl bounced back up defiantly.

Eye twitching, he gave a pissed off grin at the mirror. Sighing in defeat, he decided to spend the energy fixing his bed instead.

Finral grabbed the corner of his sheets and pulled it towards him. Sliding his hands across the fabric to straighten it out, he slapped his pillow a couple of times, fluffing it up. Sparing a quick glance over his room, Finral turned on his heel and strided through the door into his living room.

There on the couch was the abandoned bag. Picking it up by its straps, he fastened it securely to his golden belt, letting it hang off his thigh.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Finral rushed out the door, the sun’s harsh, golden rays forcing him to squint his eyes. Blinking a couple of times until he adjusted to the light, he made his way to collect the letters from his boss.

His legs moved like a machine unable to override its code, unwitting and conditioned.

Before his mind was able to catch up, Finral blinked back into his surroundings, instantly recognizing the post office that stood right ahead of him. He held back a sigh, bringing his hand into a fist to gently convey 3 consecutive knocks. Waiting for the door to be answered, Finral placed a hand on his hip, leaning his weight on the leg that hurt slightly less than the other.

His attention was drawn by a creaking sound emitted by the chipped, wooden door being twisted open.

Without so much as a single greeting, 5 letters were immediately shoved in his hands. He hurriedly removed the hand on his hip in favor of making sure he didn’t drop any letters.

They were each loosely (and unevenly) tied with a red ribbon, looking as though they'd been crumbled up, thrown into a trash bin, and completely forgotten about for a couple of months with the amount of creases in the paper– to put it plainly.

“These just came in. Deliver them before tonight. I expect you back here for your night shift," came a flat, bored tone.

Finral shuffled his feet closer together, shoulders tense as he stared down at his boss’s feet. He knew better than to stare at his superior right in the eyes.

He’d rather not ever relive the consequences of that small action. Finral tried to remind his subconscious about the fact that Lilane wasn’t in his life any longer.

He hated how little that thought did to ease his strained muscles.

“Of course, sir.” Finral muttered softly, bowing his head.

“Any questions?”

Surprised that he actually bothered asking this time, Finral raised his head. “Um, actually, I was wondering—”

A loud slam cut him off. The door was shut right in his face.

His body recoiled at the sharp noise, wincing as he tightened his grip on the bundle of letters swaddled in his arms. What a polite man, he thought bitterly, glaring at the closed door.

Fumbling with the letters, he tried rearranging them into his bag. It fit all the letters except one. Deciding that was good enough, Finral gripped the last one in his hand, summoning a twinkling portal with the other. He felt his heart speed up… except, oddly enough, it wasn’t caused by fear this time. He was– excited, for once.

Last night was just about the strangest interaction he’d ever had with anyone. No less, a demon.

Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

A spark of hope ignited in his chest as he stared at the open portal, stopping to take a deep breath before plunging himself back into the cold Abyss. Snapping shut behind him, Finral looked around the main entrance. A small part of him had expected the familiar Succubus to be there waiting. A twinge of disappointment snuck in to join the fray in his mind.

Thing was, not only did he know practically nobody down here (and clearly wasn’t very welcomed), but he was also utterly clueless about where everything was located. And, Oh lord, the Captain— how was he supposed to find him again? The Abyss was nothing short of a Labyrinth to him.

Even if he managed to locate him, was Finral just supposed to personally deliver the letters to Captain Yami every time? Because, while that would make his job miles easier, he wasn’t sure how many times he’d be able to approach him without spontaneously combusting.

Last night was proof of that enough.

With his letter in hand, the only choice he really had was to continue forward. So he did. He walked into the shadows once more, with a little less unease than the day before.

—

The tread of his steady pace was the only sound he focused on. Finral did his best to keep on his poker face, not wanting to give the demons glaring literal daggers at him more reasons to pay him any mind.

At this point, the constant staring was beginning to get old. He really didn’t think he stood out that much. Nevermind the glaringly obvious fact that he had wings attached to his back, wore a creamy white robe that contrasted nicely with the dark shades of the environment, and generally just stood out like a sore thumb– obviously. Besides, wasn’t staring considered rude, even here?

He stifled a groan, feeling a jab of irritation at his lack of results.

Finral had been walking around for just under an hour. In other words, he’d wasted fifty-six minutes and thirty-five seconds of his time wandering around being lost. Yeah, he was counting. So what?

He had absolutely no idea where he was going, and the barrage of eyes following his every move was certainly not helping.

As if on cue, the sound of heavy footsteps sounding behind him shook him out of his thoughts, steadily drawing nearer. They were deliberate and self-assured, the complete opposite of his conflicted inner-monologue. Slowing his stride, Finral cautiously glanced over his shoulder.

The imposing, broad-shouldered figure towering over him could really only belong to one person.

“Captain– good morning!” Finral exclaimed, the loud tone betraying his momentary surprise.

The man gave him a brief nod, his sharp gaze sweeping over Finral’s face with a raised brow. “You lost?”

He froze at the straightforward question, staring incredulously at the Captain’s unimpressed expression. Was he really that obvious?

Figuring there was no wiggling his way out of this, Finral’s shoulders dropped, a sigh leaving his lips. A sheepish grin made its way on his face while he fiddled with the ends of the tied ribbon on the lone letter.

“Uh… maybe?”

Yami’s lips pulled up into a smug smirk. “Thought so,” he replied, slightly tilting his head away from Finral’s face before puffing out a cloud of smoke. He blinked, thrown off by the uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture.

The Captain’s gaze drifted downward, dipping until it reached the paper clutched in his hand.

“Got more mail for me?”

Thankful that he brought it up, Finral nodded, his smile turning more comfortable at the absence of animosity directed towards him.

Rummaging through his bag for the rest of the letters, he pulled them out and held it for Captain Yami to grab. He plucked them from Finral’s grip, easily able to hold all five letters at once with no issues.

Finral deliberately ignored the heat that pooled in his stomach.

But, it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the stares. Ever since Finral started the conversation with Yami, the eyes had only stacked in numbers. He could hear the whispers rippling through the groups of demons passing by, a couple even stopping in their tracks to openly gape at them.

It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but nothing he wasn’t used to. Finral’s had his fair share of unwanted attention, so it wasn’t unexpected that they’d be shocked by his overall presence. What puzzled him, however, was how their reaction had completely shifted once Yami had arrived.

Whatever the reason for it was, he’d really appreciate not being treated like an exotic animal on display. Thank you very much.

The sound of crinkling paper caught his attention, sufficiently drawing his focus back on Yami.

The man had opened one of the letters, his fixed eyes intently scanning through each word. His grip visibly tightened, and for a brief moment, a flash of fury lit up his gaze.

“Those bastards,” he muttered, his tone laced with silent venom. Finral perked up at that, concern trickling in. He may not have known Yami for very long, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that he wasn’t the kind of man to get shaken up so easily.

“...Is everything alright?” Finral asked hesitantly.

Yami lifted his head, as though he just remembered Finral was still standing there. Inaudibly, he crumpled the paper into a ball.

“Fine. My idiots got into a bit of trouble, is all.” His voice held the same air of nonchalance as it did the night prior, but Finral caught the faint undertone of worry that crept in. He furrowed his eyebrows.

Though Finral wasn’t entirely sure who the ‘idiots’ he was referring to were, he could only assume that Yami was talking about the other members of the Black Bulls— which included Vanessa.

Finral bit his lip, his thoughts going haywire. Was she okay? What kind of trouble had they gotten into?

Before he could stop himself, the words that had been on the tip of his tongue the second he saw Yami’s tension had spilled out.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Yami’s widened eyes snapped to him, clearly taken aback by his earnestness.

Finral took a step closer, feeling it was necessary to back his offer up, “I mean, the letter sounds serious… whatever is written in it. Was someone-”

“Sure.”

Yami’s curt response cut through his worried rambling. His eyes dug into Finral with an unreadable expression etched on his face.

Finral blinked at the taller man, not expecting him to agree so easily.

His expression changed, turning his stare down at the crumpled letter. He paused in thought, the weight of an unspoken decision showing on his face before he handed back the four other letters. Finral took them from his grip immediately, his hands tightening around the stack without a word.

Unfolding and straightening the creased paper, Yami held it out towards him.

“Read it.”

Tilting his head down, Finral did as he was told, skimming through the letter’s contents. At first, he was confused on what exactly caused him to react so strongly, until his eyes landed on the same section that triggered his reaction. It all fell into place.

His breath hitched, the words burning into his memory as he read it. And reread it. Over and over again.

Finral couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t want to believe his eyes.

Because it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

Heroic Warriors Defend Nirvana From Sinful Threats

By News Reporter Rosalie Selic

‘Just this morning, a group of noble warrior angels were dispatched to protect the sanctity of Nirvana’s gates when two small, horned monsters strayed precariously close to its holy frontier. Swiftly taking action to address the potential threat, the warriors prepared for battle. Before our heroes managed to eliminate the danger, three more sinners—aiding the enemy side—intercepted the conflict.

In a fierce affray, these brave soldiers valiantly fought back against the evil force, managing to subdue the threat. They successfully drove the aggressors away, injuring one of the smaller creatures and three of the larger offenders who dared step in the heroes’ way.

Although some of the brave warriors left the battle harmed, Nirvana remains safe thanks to the loyal angels and wisdom of the all-knowing Judge. His quick-thinking and prompt orders ensured that the threats would be briskly taken care of. Once more, Nirvana stands unshaken under his reliable leadership.’

The more he read it, the more he saw the words shake. Wait, no—he realized—it wasn’t the paper, it was him. Too concentrated on tightening his trembling fingers around the letter in a futile attempt to steady it, he hadn’t realized that the other four letters had slipped from his grasp and onto the floor, unnoticed.

“Small horned– children?” Finral’s voice cracked with thick emotion, disbelief and rising panic controlling his tone. “They attacked children just because—”

His mind spun with the implications. It made him sick, how the news report tried twisting the story to make the angels seem like heroes. For attacking literal children.

When did this even happen? How come this is the first time he was hearing about this? His body grew tense as one petrifying question teared at his mind: How many letters similar to this one had he been unknowingly delivering this entire time? This wasn’t a recurring situation… was it?

Finral brought his gaze to glower at the discarded letters on the stone ground. What was written in the other four?

“Are they okay?” He scrambled to ask. Though, it was a rhetorical question, since he hadn’t expected Yami to know either. “Their injuries— they’re getting treated, right? And the other three that were mentioned—they said—”

A large, warm hand dropped down on his shoulder, shaking him out of his spiral. Startled, his head snapped up, meeting Yami’s eyes. To his surprise, the man’s usual rough demeanor had softened considerably, his sharp expression reduced by what looked to be something close to understanding.

“Calm down.” Yami said, voice steady as his grip on Finral’s shoulder tightened slightly. Typically, he’d feel uncomfortable by abrupt touches, but this one only made him feel grounded and oddly protected, causing the tension in his shoulders to drain out almost instantly. “They're strong, and I know they won't stop fighting until those kids are safe.”

His grip on the letter became painfully tight, only a little comforted by the Captain’s reassurance. Despite his mind racing with more questions, Finral bit them back.

Now wasn’t the time for questions.

“Captain!”

A booming, enthusiastic shout rang out from behind Yami.

Curious, Finral went on his tippy toes, peeking over the man’s broad shoulders to see three demons running towards them. He quickly recognized one of them as Vanessa. The closer they got, the more he could see the cuts and bruises—and, were those burns?—littered across their skin.

It looked bad, to say the least. Judging by their labored breaths, limping strides, and pained expressions, he thought it was safe to imagine that it felt bad, too.

The group slowed to a stop in front of Yami. Vanessa bent over, putting her hands on her knees as she caught her breath, before straightening back up. “You read the letter, right?” She asked, her eyes scanning for the mentioned paper.

Finral, letter still clenched in his hand, stepped into her view. Vanessa looked over at him, her expression shifting to one of surprise. Her other two companions followed her line of sight. Soon enough, all eyes were on him.

On the other hand, he couldn’t stop his eyes from looking over the trio's battered appearances. Vanessa seemed to be the least wounded of the group, and the silver-haired demon that stood beside her thankfully didn’t look too bad off. But, the third one…

When his gaze landed on the demon with the light grey hair tied back with a black bandana, the Black Bull symbol stamped on it, Finral winced. The sheer amount of bruises he had, blood dripping from the large gash cut through his arm, told him everything he needed to know about how brutal the fight was.

The idea that the same angels he shared his home with would do something like this—it was enough to make his stomach turn. Violence was always something he protested against. Times like now, when he saw the aftermath of a battle, reminded him of exactly why.

“Finral… you read it too?” A hesitant voice, Vanessa, cut through the tense silence.

He met her eyes, his own dejected, nodding once at her. Although she didn’t seem shocked by his confirmation, her brows furrowed with a complicated expression.

Before the weight of the situation could fully dawn on him, the fragile air was shattered by a blaring voice— the same one that had yelled out earlier.

Through his peripheral vision, Finral saw motion. One minute the grey-haired demon was standing next to the silver-haired girl, and the next he was only a couple inches from Finral’s face. He jumped at how close the shorter boy was.

“Hey! You’re the new delivery thingy guy, right?” He exclaimed, his contrasting red and green eyes kindled with curiosity. And despite the literal blood oozing out of the large cut on his arm, there was a wide, toothy grin plastered on his face.

Before Finral could open his mouth to respond, a loud smack sounded in the air, the boy doubling over in pain. “Bakasta! Don’t you know what personal space is?” The silver-haired demon reprimanded with her hands on her hips, sending him a look of irritation. Though her voice was edged, the blow was significantly softened by the slight flush of her cheeks.

A glint of light caught his eye. She had small, perfectly straight horns that glistened with a thin layer of water. But, there was something he found a little odd. Compared to the other Black Bull members, the Captain included, she seemed much more- sophisticated. The girl appeared to be far more pristine and graceful. So much so, that if she didn’t have horns or a tail, he’d be easily convinced that she was an angel.

The boy—Asta, he supposed—rubbed the back of his head. The large sword he was hauling around fell on the ground with a resounding clang. “Oww! I was just saying hi!” He whined, a pouty frown replacing his careless grin.

With a huff, the girl turned her head away from him, crossing her arms.

“Hmph.”

For a moment, her stare flickered up, catching Finral’s eyes. He froze, recognizing that exact look. The girl’s expression held nothing short of suspicion, her manner becoming more reserved. Except— it carried something deeper. The type of mistrust that could only exist from old wounds of betrayal.

After all, he couldn’t count the amount of times he had worn that same expression.

Finral swallowed hard. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that now certainly wasn’t the right time for an introduction.

Interrupting the awkward silence, Vanessa began to walk—or, more like limp—closer to Finral. He was quick to offer his arm for support, which she took with a thankful smile, leaning into him. Pursing his lips, Finral’s foot tapped repeatedly against the stone ground. He needed to know what happened, but couldn’t find it in him to ask. The succubus looked exhausted, and the last thing she probably wanted to do was answer his never ending questions.

“Are you okay?” He whispered to her, concern evident in his tone. He was almost positive the other three demons were eavesdropping.

A small smile pulled at her lips, patting his back in reassurance. “All good. You?”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not the one who got beat up. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Her smile dropped, replaced with a stern expression as she brought her hand into a fist to whack his shoulder. Finral sucked in a breath. For an injured person, she sure was strong.

“I didn’t mean physically.”

Oh. She was asking– oh.

Finral stumbled out a response, not used to having someone genuinely worry about his feelings. “Oh. Um- yep! Yeah, I’m okay.”

Something about Vanessa’s unamused, skeptical look told him that she didn’t buy it. Not one bit.

He averted his eyes from her, guilt steadily consuming him. Finral would rather not get any deeper with his feelings; it wasn’t nearly as important as their current predicament was. Whatever turmoil raging in his head was his to handle. Not hers.

The alarming sound of a wet, harsh cough snapped him back to reality. Finral watched in horror as the dark red blood splattered on the ground, blending in eerily well with the gloomy, grey stones beneath them. He felt his stomach turn when he saw Asta clenching his stomach, hands trickled with his own blood.

Yami stepped forward, his towering figure radiating authority.

“Listen up, brats.”

All eyes were on the Captain, his firm voice demanding their attention as he effortlessly took control of the situation. Finral found himself holding his breath, anxiously waiting to hear every word he relayed.

“Whatever happened out there, you protected the kids. Didn’t ya?” Yami narrowed his eyes, his tone firm and expectant as he awaited their response. Finral tightened his grip on Vanessa, the question that had been itching his brain ever since he first heard the news finally being asked aloud.

Three heads nodded simultaneously. After a beat, Yami nodded back. A small, approving smile tugged at his lips, satisfaction and pride clear in his expression. “Good. That’s what matters.”

The man crossed his arms, carefully examining each demon’s battered form.

“Now, instead of standing around like idiots, shouldn’t you be resting?” The sharpness in his words were dwindled by the subtle edge of concern. “Unless you plan on making shit harder for me by keeling over, that is.”

A blinding smile shot up on Asta’s face. His entire posture became stiffly straight as he raised his hand into a salute. “You got it, Cap’n!” Finral could only dream of understanding how the boy still had enough energy to speak at all, let alone with enough enthusiasm and volume to beat an entire Colosseum of people.

Though he was more focused on the fact that—if he heard them correctly—they intended on going to sleep expecting to wake up the next day magically recovered. Without wrapping up a single one of their wounds.

Vanessa pushed off of Finral’s shoulder, ready to leave. He shook his head in disbelief, readjusting his grip on her so that she couldn’t detach herself. “Hold on! Are you guys crazy?” The rare bite in his voice caused the demons to stop in their tracks. Finral would’ve been abashed for his outburst if it weren't for the overwhelming astoundment and disapproval he felt.

“Uh...Whaddya mean?” Asta tilted his head, looking uncertain.

Finral sighed in frustration, rubbing his temples. “You can’t just— jeez,” he took a breath in, fixing Asta with a pointed stare as his voice gained an unusual edge to it. “You can’t just go to sleep without treating your injuries properly. I mean, that’s practically a death wish!”

What bugged him the most was how they acted as though this was a daily occurrence for them. Finral referred back to what Vanessa mentioned about the Black Bulls, and wondered if dangerous missions really were just a part of their roles.

Blinking at him, Asta clearly seemed caught off guard by Finral’s sudden show of assertiveness. Before he could respond, the silver-haired girl nodded in agreement, her sharp eyes raking over Asta’s marred figure.

“He’s right,” she said, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “There’s a high chance you’ll just bleed out if you leave those wounds neglected.”

Relief washed over him, and he shot her a grateful smile. “Thank you.” At least one of them had common sense.

Yami raised a brow, arms still tightly crossed while he leaned against the jagged stone wall. “What exactly do you expect us to do? We’re fresh outta doctors in this hellhole.” It was a genuine, and fair, question.

Finral hesitated, glancing over at Vanessa to see her sway slightly in his grasp. It was transparent that she was running out of fuel fast, and he had to take the initiative before her condition worsened. Knowing what had to be done, Finral decided to let his actions answer the Captain’s inquiry. Carefully maneuvering Vanessa to sit against a flat stone nearby, he crouched down to meet her eye level.

“Vanessa.” He murmured calmly, “if you’re feeling tired, then you should rest. When you wake up, you’ll be all patched up.” He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping his open expression relayed the sincerity behind his words. “I Promise.”

Her gaze searched Finral’s face for a long, silent moment, while her own betrayed nothing. Finally, a faint smile softened with warmth and exhaustion pulled at her lips. “You better keep that promise, big guy.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up, a light, relieved laugh bubbling up. He watched as Vanessa shut her eyes, body slackening as she slowly leaned her head against the rock. Standing up, Finral turned around, facing Yami and the other two.

The purple feathers blending in at the bottom of his wings flickered with stars, faintly glowing when he summoned a shimmering portal. The swirling light reflected in the younger demons’ widened eyes as he blindly reached into the rift of space. After a bit of shuffling, Finral withdrew his hand, a first aid kit gripped tightly in his fingers.

With a flick of his wrist, the gateway vanished. “Alright,” his voice was steady, motioning for the other two injured demons. “C’mere.”

Asta didn’t waste a single second before bounding over, plopping himself next to Vanessa like an overly hyper puppy. The silver-haired girl, however, seemed frozen in place.

That was until Yami placed his hand on her back, lightly shoving the demon closer to Finral. “Move it.” The man said gruffly, nodding at the empty spot on the rocks. She had no choice but to relent, sitting stiffly on the smooth stone.

With the first aid kit open and its contents laid out before him, Finral took a quick inventory, mentally checking off everything he needed. Thankfully, there was enough to be able to treat their combined injuries, though, he’d have to restock later on. A nagging feeling kept crawling up his spine—the feeling that made him believe this wouldn’t be the last time he found himself in a situation like this.

He pulled out a roll of gauze, eyes immediately landing on the deep gash that engulfed Asta’s arm. Kneeling for better mobility, he dragged the kit within reach. The ball of energy was staring down at his wings with almost childlike fascination, his hands half raised as though physically restraining himself from touching them.

Finral suppressed a sigh, an idea popping in his head. “Here,” he said, lightly tapping Asta on the knee. He extended one wing in front of him, instantly grabbing the boy’s attention. “You can touch, but no pulling. Okay?”

The diversion worked like a charm. Better, even. Asta’s face lit up, his wide eyes fixated on the silky feathers, and his focus predictably veered away from the ensuing sting of pain. Leaning in closer to the cut for a better view, Finral was relieved to note that it wouldn’t require any stitches. He could certainly manage it if necessary, but he was in no way a trained medic; even one mistake could cost Asta greatly. And- well, he didn’t exactly have the strongest stomach for blood.

A high-pitched squeal suspended him from his ongoing thoughts, followed immediately by the strange sensation of hands clumsily stroking his feathers. Gritting his teeth, Finral forced himself to push aside the jitters it gave him for the sake of the distraction. With the large cut revealed, he carefully cleaned out the wound, his hands steady and precise as he enclosed it in gauze. Surprisingly, Asta remained relatively still, his attention never wavering from the wing, making Finral’s job considerably easier.

As time went on, he grew used to the feeling of fingers—someone else’s fingers—sweeping through his feathers. In a way, it felt kind of nice. His hands were dirtied with grime and speckles of his own blood, but Finral could tell the boy was trying his best to be gentle, which he found unexpectedly thoughtful.

Though, he struggled to shake the feeling of being watched from behind him. All of his attempts to ignore the weight of the Captain’s eyes on him only heightened his nerves. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was make a mistake under pressure.

Leaning back on his heels, he surveyed his work with crushing relief. The worst of it was finally over. Vanessa and the other silver-haired girl were the only two remaining.

Vanessa’s soft snores broke the quiet. Not wanting to wake her, he took his time tending to her injuries. His hands moved consistently with care, wrapping each cut and making sure that the bandages were tightly secured. She faintly stirred in her sleep, breathing evenly with an expression void of pain.

A small smile crept onto his face at the sight of her peaceful slumber. Picking up the first aid kit, he turned to the last demon in need of assistance, only to find her already staring. She still carried a look of suspicion, but appeared much less hostile towards him. Seating himself in front of her, he offered a silent gesture at the remaining gauze, asking for permission. For a moment, she hesitated, before shutting her eyes and giving a single nod.

Although she still seemed doubtful of his ambitions, the girl shut her eyes, nodding once. Reaching out to start patching her up, Finral suddenly felt a sharp poke against his halo.

“Woah! It’s so pointy! And it’s, like, super shiny and purpley!”

Finral’s jaw dropped. Purpley? What in the world? He craned his neck, and sure enough, there Asta was: leaning in uncomfortably close, one finger hovering near his halo like it was some ancient artifact in a museum. His awe-struck expression made Finral worried that he would try to spin it next.

“Do you… have to do that?” Finral asked, his voice pinched as he tried to focus on wrapping the gauze around Noelle’s bruises.

“Duh, how could I not? It’s so cool!” Asta eagerly shot back, his excitement completely undeterred. “What’s it made of? Is it indestructible? Can I touch it— what happens if I touch it? Ooh! Does it glow in the dark?”

Finral inhaled deeply, looking back to catch Noelle rolling her eyes. She muttered something along the lines of ‘absolute idiot’ but didn’t make a move to stop Asta. Instead, her expression insinuated that she’d long accepted his behavior as her unfortunate reality.

Turning back to his task, he exhaled, figuring that it was easier to let the boy wear himself out. “It’s just a halo. Nothing special. Every angel has one.” He said, tone distracted as he meticulously finished wrapping and taping the bandage in place, making sure it was secure.

Asta gasped theatrically. “Nothing special?! You got free flying thingies connected to your back and a glowing ring above your head! And you’re telling me all angels get one? No fair! Can I get one? Do I have to sign up? Where do I sign up?”

“Not sure…” Finral replied absentmindedly, only half-listening as he worked his way up to another cut.

“Soo, what’s Nirvana like? Is it all gold and sparkly? Are there floating castles? I bet there are floating castles.

“Nope. No castles,” Finral replied absentmindedly, brows furrowing and hands steady while he carefully applied a dot of antibiotic cream on the small burn located on Noelle’s wrist.

“What? No castles?” Asta cried, his arms flinging up like he’d been personally wronged by the universe. “Then what’s the point of even being an angel?!”

For a second, Finral thought the boy would actually stop his barrage of questions and settle for calm silence. Turns out that was a dreamful presumption, because Asta simply settled on a new topic of interest.

“What about your magic? How does it work? Can you open those shiny space doors wherever you want?”

In all his eighteen years of living, ‘space doors’ was a phrase he never thought he’d hear when describing his magic. Finral paused, unsure of whether or not he wanted to dignify any of that with a response.

“Yeah, I can open them whenever. But, there are some rules to it, as there are to any form of magic.”

Asta lit up at the first actual response Finral gave him. It was mainly because he was just about finished with Noelle’s injuries, not needing to put as much concentration into his movements.

Apparently, all it accomplished was further encouraging the energetic boy.

“Can people go through it?”

“Mhm.”

“No way! What about food— food too?”

“Food too.”

“Aw man, sweet! I bet that would make sneaking extra tatoes’ so much easier.” Asta continued, a far away look on his face.

“Um, tatoes?”

“I love tatoes, I hope Charmy makes some more tonight. Yummy yum-yum…” He trailed off, pure contentment apparent on his face.

At that point, Finral could’ve sworn to Nirvana above that there was drool trickling down his chin.

Based on the look of pure disgust plastered on Noelle’s face, Finral concluded that he wasn’t the only one who noticed. “What is so good about potatoes?” She said, shaking her head in disapproval. “Honestly, out of every food.”

“Oi, brat! Settle down.” Yami’s sharp tone cut through the chaos. “Sorry Cap’n!” Asta slouched in disappointment, staring longingly at Finral’s halo.

He tied off the last of the gauze, humming softly in satisfaction at his handiwork. As a soothing silence fell between the two of them, Finral trailed his eyes over her bruises. Slightly more confident that he hadn’t missed any, a small smile pulled at his lips.

“All set.” His voice was bordering on a whisper, deliberately quiet so as to not disturb the newfound stillness present in the air.

The girl tilted her chin up, acting much less dubious of him. “Noelle.”

Finral faltered, caught off guard. “Sorry?”

“My name,” Noelle looked positively embarrassed, eyes glued to the stone next to her feet. “It’s Noelle— not that it matters if you know!” Somehow, her cheeks flushed an even brighter red, words coming out in a hurried rush.

Finral felt his lips curl upward into an amused smile, taking her introduction for what it was. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Noelle.”

Her expression was torn between reluctant gratitude and flustered embarrassment. “Whatever,” Noelle murmured under her breath, the faint blush still lingering on her face and the slight twitch of her mouth giving away the tiniest hint of mirth.

While he was cleaning up and organizing the leftover first aid supplies back into the box, he found Asta peering up at him. His face was gradually turning a concerning shade of purple as he vigorously held his breath, stopping himself from asking yet another question.

Finral blinked, unamused. “Maybe it would be a good idea to keep breathing.” The first aid kit shut with a resounding click. “I think that would be an effective way of not dying, hm?”

Opening his mouth, Asta took in a large gulp of air, a large grin spreading on his face while he seized the opportunity.

“Just wondering if you can, like, take off your halo. You know, like a hat, or something?”

It baffled Finral how even Auriel—a literal eight year old, by the way—had more insightful questions than Asta. “A hat? Seriously? That doesn’t even— why would it—?” He paused, not having the slightest clue how he was supposed to entertain that question with an answer.

So, he didn’t.

“I’m just—I’m just gonna pretend like I didn’t hear anything, if that’s okay with you.” Finral opened a small portal, dropping the first aid kit in and shutting it before Asta could successfully throw his arm into it.

Glancing back at Noelle, she quickly turned her head away to mask the amusement on her face, looking like she was just barely holding back a laugh.

“Smart move,” Yami said dryly, a grin slowly rising on his face as he took a drag from his cigarette, thoroughly entertained by the interaction. “Kid’s one step away from asking if it doubles as a frisbee.”

Finral, covering his face with both hands, muttered, “Please don’t give him ideas.”

He couldn’t figure out which one was worse: the Captain not even attempting to stop Asta from having these brazen notions, or the way Asta seemed visibly excited by the prospect.

“Wait! Can it actually be a frisbee? I wanna try!” Asta exclaimed, taking the joke seriously. His gaze darted to Finral’s halo, and for one frightening moment, it seemed as though he might actually try to grab it.

“No. Nope. Absolutely not,” Finral said firmly, debating whether to laugh or cry at how genuinely serious Asta looked.

“Come on! Just one toss?” Asta pleaded, leaning in closer.

“No chance!” Finral shot back, his feathers puffing up.

“Boo…” Asta grumbled, flopping back onto the flat rock. He folded his arms, pouting at the lost opportunity of playing frisbee. With his halo.

After that, the air settled into a surprisingly comfortable atmosphere. Asta’s sulky act from his refusal only lasted a couple seconds before that same carefree grin he always wore was back to being glued on his face. He was idly swinging his legs up and down in a bored manner, the scuffing of his shoes being the only noise to interrupt the peace.

The momentary lighthearted banter only worked to deflect the guilt gnawing for a fleeting moment. Even now, the words etched on that letter drummed repeatedly in his mind, like a cruel mantra he couldn’t erase no matter how hard he tried.

His fists tightened in his lap, the tension tearing through his body and demanding a release.

Children. They were just children. Small, innocent children that the Judge had so heartlessly targeted. And for what? What did putting their lives at risk achieve?

Possibly worst of all, Finral couldn’t shake the feeling that he was complicit. He knew, logically, that there was nothing he could have actually done to stop it—but, that thought did nothing to comfort him. The accusatory voice in his mind that had been ingrained in him from years of ridicule and blame was louder, drowning out his rationality. Finral was an angel. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t personally been involved in attacking those demons; he was still an angel. Just like all the others that thoughtlessly consumed and believed every ounce of news that was served to them on a silver platter, he was partially to blame.

Finral’s gaze flickered to the Black Bulls around him. Asta’s boundless energy. Noelle’s quiet resilience. Vanessa’s mindful compassion. Captain Yami’s steady presence. The warmth they radiated felt so alien to him, and for the life of him, Finral couldn’t decide if it was genuine or not.

Was the borderline respect they treated him with all just an act? Were they just pretending to tolerate his presence for the sake of being polite? Everytime he expected a certain response from them, they kept proving him wrong with a completely different one. A more positive one.

But, no. He could see it. In their raw emotions, their honest words, and even in the mistrust they carried. The way their bodies tensed up when the war was mentioned, the profound hatred that twisted their expressions when the Judge was brought up, the letter—it was all right in front of him, plain as day.

It was all so… new. Unfamiliar. And he quite frankly had no idea what to think of it, or how to process it.

In Nirvana, every little aspect of his character was scrutinized, criticized, deemed as insufficient. But here? In the Abyss? There wasn’t a single time he’d gotten told to hold his tongue, or even about abiding by any rules. Nobody seemed to care about what he said or did.

Could it be true? Everything he’d been taught about demons—all wrong? Every bit of truth that cracked through the pristine guise of Nirvana that he’d been clinging onto for so long only added to his distress. There was no other way he could explain the way the Black Bulls had shown him, a complete stranger, more kindness than he’d ever experienced in Nirvana. It just didn’t add up.

His fist uncurled, hand drifting to his wing. His fingers felt the soft curve of a feather, latching onto it as though his life depended on it.

In a way, the Black Bulls had almost perfectly matched the descriptions he’d been told—they were chaotic, rowdy, and more than a little frightening. But, in every way that mattered, they defined all those traits with pride. Most importantly, they were a family.

He didn’t need to know them well to see it. Anyone with eyes could tell. From the way Yami burned with rage at the angels who had hurt his squadmates. The way Asta’s positivity and never ending energy lifted up everyone around him, even in dire situations. In the quiet concern Noelle tried her hardest to conceal. They all pushed each other’s buttons, constantly bickering, teasing, and tied by a bond that he could only define as love.

A kind of love Finral had never known.

His chest tightened with that oh-so-familiar feeling of yearning. The Black Bulls had something that Finral knew he would never get. To be loved, cared for, genuinely wanted—it couldn’t have been a more foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t fully grasp.

And why should he?

Finral knew his place. He wasn’t worth the effort. He never had been. His stepmother, his brother, and even the people of Nirvana had made that painfully clear. Deep down, he couldn’t disagree with them. They were right, after all. It was just another hard, cold fact of life. One that he had learned to accept overtime.

His fingers tightened around the feather.

And one that everyone around him knew. Whether they acknowledged it out loud or not. It was true, and Finral couldn’t fight the truth.

Even if everything he had ever been told was a lie, what was he meant to do about it? There was absolutely nothing Finral could do that would make a change. He couldn’t just tell all the other angels about this new discovery and hope they would magically take his word for it. Nobody would believe him over their beloved Judge. Finral was a sitting duck, left at the mercy of a leader he never asked for. A leader he never wanted.

His voice didn't matter. His opinions, wishes, and desires didn’t matter. It never did back then, so why would it now?

It wasn’t until a sharp sting registered that he realized he’d been pulling too hard, nearly yanking out yet another feather. Finral felt his heart jump as he snapped back into present time, remembering where he was and who he was with.

Before Finral could pull his hand away and act like nothing had happened, he felt it—a weighty gaze pressing down on him.

He felt his lips quiver, slowly looking up to find Yami watching him, his dark eyes sharper than he’d ever seen it. Despite there being no discernable anger in them, the sheer intensity of it made him feel like a child being caught with his arm halfway in a cookie jar. Finral wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the man’s stares, nor the gravity they held.

The Captain didn’t say a word. He didn’t necessarily need to, as Finral was sure Yami could tell that his point came across perfectly fine without it.

And it did. In fact, the weight of his silence was louder than any word spoken could’ve been.

Finral’s hand slipped away from the feather, dropping back into his lap. He witnessed as it dangled weakly from the spot it was tugged at, narrowly hanging on by a thread.

Finral counted the small blessings, such as how Asta and Noelle were too engaged in a trivial back-and-forth dispute to have noticed his small slip up. He unfortunately couldn’t say the same for Yami, whose gaze lingered for just a moment more before turning away.

Acting as though he hadn’t seen anything, Yami’s fingers flicked his cigarette, the ash falling away in a lazy descent. The gesture was so casual, so unbothered, that it almost felt intentional. An unspoken way of giving Finral the space he needed to breathe and sort out his thoughts. He didn’t push, didn’t press for answers, just stood there, like an unshakeable anchor in the eye of a storm.

Taking a deep breath, the tension in his chest loosened bit by bit. His gaze dropped down to his hands, which had begun to shake without him noticing. As he formed his hands into fists, he felt his nails dig into the fragile skin of his palm, willing the tremors to stop.

The distant sound of bickering reached his ears, pulling him out of his thoughts. He zoned back to the ridiculous debate the duo was (somehow) still having, their words becoming clearer as he listened in.

“—absolutely ridiculous! How does your tiny brain even come up with such absurd theories?” Noelle spouted, exasperation leaking through her tone.

“What?! But it’s flawless!” Asta fired back, wildly flailing his arms. “You just don’t see how brilliant it is!”

Finral swallowed down a laugh that threatened to bubble up, his lips twitching into a small, incredulous smile as he took in the absurdity of the scene. They were still at it?

As though noticing that they gained an audience, their argument stilled, the both of them turning towards him in unison.

“Finral!” Asta called out, his face lighting up. He bounced on his heels, struggling to contain his energy. “Back me up here!”

Tilting his head, Finral leaned back on the palms of his hands, amusement flickering on his face. “Back you up on what, exactly?”

“Noelle thinks—” Asta started, only to be cut off mid-sentence.

“Don’t drag him into this!” Noelle snapped, her face flushed a light pink. She looked equal parts furious and embarrassed, shooting Asta a deadly stare that made Finral half-worried she’d try to drown him next. “He doesn’t want to hear your absurd theories!”

“Yes, he does!” Asta said with unwavering certainty, grinning confidently at Finral. “Right, Finral? You totally do, don’t you?”

Finral shook his head, unable to stop the small smile still splayed out on his lips. “I think I’d rather stay out of this one.” He said diplomatically, raising his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. “But I’ve gotta ask… how are you guys still arguing over the same topic after twenty minutes? While you’re both injured, no less.” His voice was soft, but his words made them pause nonetheless.

Noelle looked away, blush deepening as her folded arms tightened. Asta, however, had no such shame. He looked genuinely confused, as though the answer was glaringly obvious to everyone except Finral.

“It’s his fault!” She quickly glowered, pointing a finger at Asta. “He refuses to listen to reason!”

“What? Hey, I’m listening!” Asta argued, pointing a finger back at her, “It’s just ‘cause your reasons are wrong!”

He allowed their bickering to carry on, their voices fading into the background like the hum of a distant conversation. A quiet, and startlingly genuine, laugh caught his ear, surprising even himself. It took him a minute to realize that the sound was coming out of his own mouth.

Although it was brief, Asta and Noelle’s dynamic gave him something else to focus on—something lighter, easier to chew.

Even so, he could feel Yami’s gaze on him. It wasn’t invasive, but it was there, unrelenting and alarmingly observant. Finral didn’t look up, unwilling to meet it. He didn’t know what Yami was searching for, but he did know that he wasn’t prepared for what the Captain would find if he looked closely enough.

As the petty argument grew louder, neither said a word, content to sit and watch the sight unfold. His wings fluttered on their own, experiencing a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in years.

Yami’s smirk softened just slightly, but didn’t utter a word. He closed his eyes, apparently pleased with whatever it was that he saw.

The feather he pulled at earlier slowly floated down, detaching from his wing. Finral made no move to catch it, letting the Abyss’s breeze decide its new destination.

Funnily enough, the feather stayed exactly where it fell.

#angels and demons #ao3 fanfic #finral roulacase #finral roulacase x yami sukehiro #finral x yami #vanessa enoteca #alternate universe #angst with a happy ending #yami sukehiro #asta black clover #noelle

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frikatilhi · 2 years ago

Note

Jere keeps asking/informing Bojan about his OF ideas, sending different pictures and videos to get opinion if this is still fine or already too much. Meanwhile Bojan is sweating, jumping at every message ping and checking them while hidden in a corner, to the point that it pisses off everyone else in the studio. He can't say not to send them to Jere but can't ignore them either because the phone is burning a hole in his pocket.

Anon, I think you just wrote your own fic, this is perfect.

I got several prompts about Bojan's reaction to the OF, so here's a little something about that.

Bojan can’t believe it has come to this.

It used to be that musicians would make a living selling records and performing live. Nowadays you need to sell tons of merch to even break even, have an online presence and be accessible to your fans and be relatable and funny and flirt with your bandmates to keep them guessing and keep generating fucking content, all the time.

But he wasn’t aware that the hustle included Onlyfans now too, apparently.

Bojan can appreciate Jere trying to make the most of his success and fame. He has clearly done some Scarlett O’Hara type “I shall never go hungry again!” pact with himself, determined to strike while the iron is hot, and make up for his meager earnings by any means possible.

It is none of his business how Jere chooses to make his money. If posting cheeky little skits with Häärijä is going to make people throw their money at him, who is he to judge.

So there really is no problem for Bojan.

The only problem is that he is lying awake, 1 am Slovenian time on December 1st, knowing full well that the first post of the calendar has been live for two hours.

It’s probably nothing too risque, anyway, he reasons. He has watched those two idiots film their stupid skits enough times to know that they like to joke around, shitposting their way through life. It’s probably just them in santa hats doing… the stuff they always do. Maybe a little suggestive, but nothing actually pornographic.

But also, knowing those two, knowing what they truly are capable of, he wouldn’t put anything past them.

So of course he is curious. Who wouldn’t be?

He can’t just ask Jere. He just can’t. He’s been trying for days to craft a message that would convey the exact joking, teasing nonchalance that would make Jere share the stuff with him without him asking directly. But everything he comes up with is too transparent. Asking Jere would mean admitting that he wants to know. And Jere can’t know how much he wants to know.

He also can’t join Onlyfans. He just can’t. Because that would mean… Too many things. Things Bojan is really not ready to prod or poke at.

It would also be totally icky. Watching Jere in… situations without him knowing that Bojan is watching, even though he is clearly okay with anyone and everyone seeing it, feels somehow wrong. If he can’t man up and talk to Jere and tell him how much he wants to see him naked, what right does he have to sneak around and pay money for it?

But also, he really, really wants to see what’s there.

So you can see his dilemma.

He holds off for two days. But then the online reaction to the newest one reaches him, and he sees a mention of the socks. It is the opening he needs. He taps a text.

me Watafak is this I hear about Joker Out socks making an appearance on OF???

Jere Did you like it?

me I haven’t seen it jesus christ

Jere No just us, Käärijä and Häärijä 😝

Jere You not subscribe? 😥

me Wtf you mean, of course not ☠️

Jere Bojan poor 🙁 🙁

Jere Wait

In a minute, Bojan’s phone dings as a sign of a new email. The pop-up notification shows the beginning of the subject line:. You have been gifted a subscription to–

me You didn’t.

Jere This one on me! 😊

Jere And Boju…

Jere Tell me what you think after you watch 🤭😘😉

(okay sorry for ending it there, I know you wanted his reaction to the actual videos, but I don’t think I have it in me to write about him looking at those apron strings hanging between his buttocks and him imagining picking them up with his teeth, I am already hanging by a thread here)

#prompt fill #bojere #käärijan #fanfic #not!fic

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britt-kageryuu · 1 year ago

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It's another day in the lair, it's a rare day off for all the brothers, but none of them wanted to do a stream, and Donnie is doing maintenance on Shelldon, so River is going solo.

But this is not a stream, this is the guys lazing about relaxing.

Raph is soaking/submerged in the onsen, with the heater turned low, so like 70F/21C.

Mikey is basking while doing some rough drafts of a new piece he was commissioned to do. He's in a call with the person going over what they want. It's a day off from the restaurant, not the artistic rush.

Leo is going through a box that came with the fan mail. That apparently was all the questions someone didn't want to have drowned in chat, or pay to have it read.

"Why did they fill a box with fortune cookie sized pieces of paper with these questions? Why not just send a notebook?" He complains while pulling out a random slip, "I mean 'Do you guys breath through your butt like real turtles?' I mean that's one wild question to ask when they're supposed to not know we're actually mutant turtles. 'Do any of you lay eggs?' Well technically yes, but again why?"

Donnie looks up and lifts his goggles with a raised eyebrow. He only had a couple of things to put back on Shelldon left.

"I have questioned the sanity of our various fans from the beginning. Like the 300 at least people that were just watching me test the first model I had rigged." Donnie stated while carefully putting the last piece into place, "Maybe we should bring in your boyfriend, see if the views go up? Hmm?"

Leo starts to blush, and almost threw the box at him, but noticed a question that made him smirk.

"I remember Dee mentioned a girl called K, are they dating? If not is he available?"

Donnie sets Shelldon down as he turns back on, deceptively calm, then he uses his Ninpo to create a Nerf Gun (real guns are for villains only), and starts to rapid fire at Leo who runs to avoid getting hit, because those darts do hurt, alot.

This goes on for a few minutes before Leo tripped over the box that he dropped. Donnie then shot him in the back of the head one last time.

"We are even for now. Shelldon are your systems running properly?" He askes his robot son.

Shelldon lets out a digital turtle chirp, "Everything is running Awsome Dude!"

"So, we need to check over your grammar protocol, I see." Donnie is a bit unamused. His wrist computer dings with a message, "Oh River sent a message, I wonder what she needs?"

"DAD! I WANT TO TAKE A BREAK! AND I CAN'T LOWER MY VOICE PLEASE HELP!!!!!!" The message came through at full volume, that was near deafening.

"Shelldon, go take over for Sister, I need to do some debugging on her voice." Donnie instructs as he tries to make sure his hearing isn't damaged. Then went to grab his laptop.

Mikey was glad his call had ended during the chase, because he now didn't need to explain, well that loud noise, and that no it wasn't his kid, but his brothers.

Leo just stayed on the ground, and checked the live stream to see what might have caused Rivers volume to get messed up. He then sent the clip to April about their fans asking if she's hot, and single. And also a message to Raph just so he doesn't worry about the shouting.

Donnie brings a laptop and Rivers robot body, that's whimpering very loudly, because not even switching to the robot fixed her broken volume.

"Sigh, Alright River let's find out what went wrong." Donnie says as he connects to River to run a diagnostic check.

Leo gets up and gives River some pets and Mikey joins him, which leads to very loud digital purring.

"Heh, she has like the opposite problem of when we yell really loud, instead of loosing her voice, it just got stuck at max level." Leo jokes while still comforting his robot niece.

------------------

Masterpost

I didn't know where to go from there, I just figured I'd write a little behind the scenes post.

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sinsiriuslyemo · 2 years ago

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A few years ago, I was going through quite a time. My abuelo was very, very sick and had broken his vertebrae, then my abuela had to have surgery, then my dad also needed to have surgery. It was a crazy period, and at the time, with me being so far away from them, I felt completely helpless. All I could think to do about it was write, since writing is often how I deal with emotions. I didn't post it it though, whether it was because I didn't think anyone would be interested or because it was too hard at the time, I couldn't say. But in celebration of 1,000 followers, I wanted to share it.

Running on hardly any sleep and fighting the beginnings of a migraine was not your idea of a fun Saturday. On top of that, you still hadn’t touched your manuscript in weeks and — true to a typical writer — you were feeling guilty about it. You had been working on your debut novel for almost a year and were in the midst of the biggest revision round to date, but you couldn’t seem to find the time to sit down and tackle it. The whole reason you’d left your hometown was so that you could spread your wings, away from the pressures and sometimes suffocating influence of your family members. Living in New York had been your dream since you were a little girl, but now that it had come true, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were squandering it.

Plopping down on your couch, you decided to take a nap. Maybe it would rejuvenate you enough to actually get some work done and hopefully it would take care of this damn migraine before it got too bad.

Just as you closed your eyes and got comfortable, your phone dinged with a new message. You let out a breath, deciding not to answer it and tried to focus on relaxing so that you would fall asleep. It was easier said than done. You tossed and turned and even tried pulling your fluffy, leopard print blanket over your head to shut out all the light, but nothing worked.

An hour later, you had given up on the nap and grabbed your phone off the end table as you sat up. A text from your grandmother.

At least it was a text and not a phone call. You loved your family, but they often called when it wasn’t the best time for you to talk, which would result in either you sounding angry or them feeling as though you were annoyed with them. You knew you were lucky to have both sets of grandparents still alive, that often when people found out that you had all four grandparents they would tell you how lucky you were, but sometimes you just needed your own space without them asking about every — single — aspect of your life. You opened the text and your heart dropped.

She had a heart attack this morning. She’s in the hospital, they’re taking her for a cardio on Monday.

You furrowed your brows. Who was she?!

You had spoken to your other grandma a few days before because your grandfather had fallen and broken his vertebrae. Was there a typo in the text and the she was meant to be a he?! Or was someone else in the hospital now, too?!

Your fingers were shaking as you texted her back in a panic.

WHAT?!

WHO?!

Your mind was racing as you waited for a reply, tired after only a few seconds. After a few seconds, you didn’t want to have to wait for a text back anymore, and called her as scenario after scenario ran through your mind.

Why did this have to happen now? When your grandfather was already in the hospital? Your family didn’t need this! Not now. Beyond that, you weren’t ready to lose either of your grandparents.

“Y/N —”

“What happened?” you asked immediately, heart pounding in your throat and a sting quickly developing along the edges of your nose.

“Your abuela Gloria had a heart attack this morning. That text, I got from your sister, and I forwarded it to you.”

You felt your world crumble around you and barely registered that the front door had opened and Rafael had walked in.

“She’s okay, it was minor. They took her to Baptist Hospital,” your grandma said.

“What about Abuelo?”

“They’re transferring him back to the hospital because after they took your Abuela, he fell out of bed again. So, they have to make sure that he didn’t hurt his back where they fixed it.”

Your hand made contact with your forehead as the sting on your nose grew until water was pooling in your eyes. They were both in the hospital?! And you were here, thousands of miles away and unable to do anything about it.

“Your father is there, fighting with the people at the rehab center because they weren’t giving Abuelo any pain medication, they weren’t changing him when he had accidents —”

“What?!”

By now Rafael had given up on trying to get your attention long enough to wave a greeting and had sat down beside you, watching your expression with furrowed brows.

“Your dad is making sure that after they get him back to the hospital, he finds another rehab center,” your grandmother said. “I don’t want you to worry, everything is okay. We’re managing. I just wanted you to know because I figured you’d be pissed if we didn’t tell you anything.”

Running a hand through your hair, you pinched the bridge of your nose as the migraine finally hit full force and the tears in your eyes dripped down onto your cheeks.

“Okay,” was all you could manage to say. “Who’s with Abuela?”

“Your brothers are there with her right now,” she replied.

“Okay,” you mumbled, the guilt of not being there when your family needed you the most weighing heavy on your conscience.

“I’ll keep you posted on everything, okay? Don’t worry,” she said again.

“Okay.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon,” she said.

“Okay… I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

You hung up and for the first time since he’d walked in, looked over at Rafael, who had been staring at you with concern ever since he got home.

“What happened?” he asked, wiping at your cheeks.

“My abuela had a heart attack this morning,” you answered and filled him in on everything you’d just found out.

“Is she gonna be okay?” he asked.

“I hope so. They said it was minor and they’re doing that test on Monday,” you answered. “I’m not ready to lose any of them,” you admitted, more tears streaming down your face as you let him pull you into his arms. He let you cry in silence for a moment, stroking your hair, gently rocking you back and forth.

“You can’t think like that,” he whispered after a long silence.

“I just hate that this is happening and I’m not there for them,” you sobbed. “She doesn’t need this right now, with Abuelo in the hospital, too, she just doesn’t need this!”

“I know,” he replied. “So let’s go. Let’s go and be with your family.”

You looked up at him. “Really?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “I know how important they are to you and that means they’re important to me, too.”

“What about your job? You have that case coming up —”

“I can find someone to man the fort while we’re gone,” he answered, shaking his head. “You’re not gonna go through this alone, mi amor. I’m here for you.”

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thewritingginger · 3 years ago

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Posts are gonna be kinda dodgy cuz Im slumpin’ but I'm trying to power through 🤞🏻

Plz mind any mistakes :)

Fandom: Blood of Zeus Pairing: Apollo x M! Reader Word count: 4,1k+ words Warnings: 18+, Modern au, Established relationship, Model! Apollo, Dom/sub behavior, Pet names, Sexting, Phone sex, Guided masturbation, Mutal Masturbation, Slight degrading, Dirty talk (obvi), Praise, Sex toys (vibrator), Anal Fingering, Anal penetration

Enjoy ~

Tossing your keys into the bowl by the door of your apartment you let out a tired sigh. Stripping yourself of your jacket and scarf you shoot your boyfriend –Apollo– a text before getting ready for a shower.

Y/n: “Back home, today couldn’t have ended fast enough. Call me when you can. ❤️”

Leaving your phone by the bathroom sink you warm up your shower trying to not stay glued to your phone waiting for Apollo to respond –which has been really hard not to do any free chance you’ve gotten these past two weeks.

Apollo had to leave for a few photo shoot and a show. In the past you’ve gone with him and were able to not only watch him do his work but to travel and explore new places together —though your schedule didn't allow that to happen this time. Although these trips being longer than a week weren’t often, the time apart was never easier because of it. Even when you have to be apart for more than a day the two of you are always sure to have a nightly phone call, along with texts throughout the day.

As you were rinsing your body you heard your phone ding —it was Apollo’s text tone. Finishing up you quickly dry off to see what he had sent.

Apollo: “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll call you later. I have a meeting with my manager. What are you up to?”

Y/n: “No worries. I just took a shower and probably will order out tonight.”

Walking into your shared bedroom you hadn’t even thrown your dirty clothes in the hamper before you got another notification.

Apollo: “Oh, mind showing me? 😏”

Biting your lip you shake your head at his audaciousness.

Y/n: “Don’t you have a meeting?”

Apollo: “Yes but perhaps you can send me a little something as inspiration to end it sooner?”

You’ve always found it hard to deny Apollo, especially in person, but he does make an enticing proposal. Forgetting your task for clothing you go back to the bathroom and wipe the steam off the mirror. With your towel still wrapped around your waist, your hair wet and racked back, you snap a picture with your chest and loosely tied towel in view. Looking it over once more you press send.

Y/n: [Photo Attached]

Apollo: “What a tease you are.”

Y/n: “I guess you’ll have to get done with your meeting if you want more.”

Apollo: “I guess I will. I hope you don’t have anymore plans for the night because when I’m done with you, you’re gonna be too exhausted to move 😉”

Y/n: “Can’t wait.”

Just the thought of it was enough to make your cock twitch with excitement but you hold it back for now. Instead of getting properly dressed you decided to throw on your robe then put in your order for dinner.

~~~

An hour or so has passed since your last text from Apollo, with your meal finished you’re now sitting on the couch watching tv when you got a notification.

Apollo: “My meeting is over and I’m in desperate need. You think you can help me with that?”

You feel giddiness well up inside you when you read his message.

Y/n: “I’m sure I could figure something out. 😊”

Getting off the couch you make your way to your bedroom and into your bedside table, inside is a purple vibrator –Apollo’s favorite to use on you. Laying on the plush mattress of your bed on your belly, you open your camera app and begin recording.

All that can be seen on the screen is your slightly exposed chest, your lips and your tongue lewdly sucking the toy in your hand as if it was a cock. As you suck and spit on the phallic toy you are sure to zoom in and capture the spit dripping down your fingers –just how Apollo likes it.

Pressing send, you flip onto your back with your head propped against your pillows, anticipating your boyfriend’s response.Your cock is already painfully erect and you’ve barely begun.

Instead of a text you receive a phone call, your golden haired boyfriend’s face illuminated on the screen. Pressing the green button you hold the phone to your ear where you hear Apollo’s smooth voice.

“Babyboy, you look so pretty sucking your toy.”

“All for you, Lo. You like watching me suck on stuff?” You ask playfully, eliciting a low chuckle.

“Absolutely but I think I’d like to hear you play with yourself even more.” His forward words make you whimper. “Tell me, baby, what are you wearing?”

“Just my robe, it’s open and just barely able to cover my cock.” You hear a low curse on the other end of the phone making you giggle.

“Send me a picture. I want to see how hard you are for me.”

Doing as he says you take a picture of your barely covered member, your hand wrapped loosely around the base. In a silent moment between snapping the photo and sending it you know the moment Apollo saw it due to the low growl that rings in your ear.

“By the gods, Darling. I want you so badly.”

“Yeah? What would you do if you were here?” You ask, sinking further into the mattress, biting your lip. A soft chuckle tickles your ear.

“If I was there I would strip you of that pesky robe and admire your gorgeous body by running my hands up and down every part of you.”

“Uh huh.” You sigh, running your hand up and down your chest, imagining it was his. “What else?”

“I would then have you spit in my hand and start jerking your pretty cock in my hand till you’re begging for more. Then I would lean down and lick up all the precum that leaks out of your little red tip. I’d suck you off and massage your balls in my hand and when you’re just about to cum I’d pull away –just to hear you whimper.” He sighs hungrily. “ I always do love the way you sound when you’re all worked up for me.”

Listening to Apollo’s honey rich voice depict such naughty things, you begin to slowly jerk your cock creating soft breathy moans to play through the phone.

“Is my baby getting excited from just my words?”

“Uh huh.”

“Use your words, Darling. Tell me, what are you doing?” Taking a few breaths you collect your words.

“I’m stroking myself, imagining it’s you.” Your admission blooms heat to your cheeks but it's rewarded with a warm hum of approval.

“Yeah? Give your pretty cock a little squeeze for me and rub your tip with your thumb.” Doing as he instructs you keen into the receiver. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes.”

“Is your tip leaking?” You give another groaned ‘yes’. “Gather it on your fingers and lick them clean.”

Giving your shaft a few more tugs you milk the few drops of precum that’s beginning to drip down your length onto your fingers and begin sucking them clean, humming into the speaker.

“Does that taste good?”

“Yes, Sir.” You say.

“Good boy.”

“Where are you?” You breathlessly ask, your hand continuing to slowly stroke your member. A low rumble from Apollo’s chest meets your ears with his response.

“Well, my little dove, if you must know I’m in the back of my chauffeur’s car with only the dividing wall between us as I palm myself to your sweet sounds.”

An low uncontrolled groan is pulled from your lips at the thought of him pleasuring himself so close to someone else blissfully unaware of the erotic act taking place behind them. Your public figure boyfriend doing the unthinkable with a high likelihood of getting caught all because of his desperation for you.

You pull this from him.

Lust.

Hunger.

Depravity.

The very idea makes your hand move quicker on its own.

“Does that excite you, Baby?” Apollo asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You breathe, needing more you mewl. “Talk to me, please, Sir. I need to hear you.” The other end of the line rings with a dark chuckle.

“So needy. So impatient.” He tsks mockingly. “What more could you need, babyboy? You have me. I’m listening to you jerk your pretty cock. What else is there?

“Perhaps you need me to tell you what a dirty boy you are for making me pull my cock out in the backseat of my driver’s car? How I wish you were here to clean up the precum already leaking from my tip with your tongue. Would you like that? To taste me? Have me fill your mouth till I spill down your throat?”

You can hear a slight hitch in Apollo’s voice, a clear indicator that he is stroking himself as well. The shuffling of clothing and the soft shift of leather beneath him as he gets himself comfortable for your play. The next few minutes the two of you merely exchange fevered breath and cursed moans as you feel yourselves to the idea of each other.

“Baby, you have your toy with you?” You give a hum of approval. “Good. Turn it on for me, put it up to the mic so I can hear it vibrate against my ear.” Doing as instructed, you release yourself to find the vibrator you’d discarded on the sheets. Turning it on you hold it in front of the receiver and touch it with a soft moan.

“Give it a filthy suck for me.” Again you quickly obey, earning you praise. “Good boy. Make it nice and wet, pretend it's my cock you’re prepping for your little asshole.”

Slurping on the vibrating toy between your lips makes your cock twitch with excitement, more sheer white liquid spilling out.

“Run it up and down your shaft and around your tip, Baby. No cumming! Just edge yourself.” A shudder runs down your spine at the sound of Apollo spitting into his hand to wet himself.

Doing as he says you slide the tip of the toy along your length and around the flare of your engorged tip, coating the silicon in your drippings.

“That feel good?”

“Yes, Sir.” You squeak out, your eyes screwed shut —the image of Apollo’s godly naked form painted behind your eyelids.

“Rub it against your balls.”

The vibrations that go through your tightening sack makes your toes curl and another choked moan releases into the silent room air.

“Speak to me, Baby. How are you feeling? What does my naughty little boy need?” You are almost so lost in the shock waves the vibrations are shooting through you to comprehend the words your boyfriend said into your ear. Swallowing a moan and wetting your lips you find the words.

“I feel needy for more. I need you to- to stretch me out. I feel so empty, Sir. Please.” You sound pathetic but you don’t care and neither does the man on the other end.

Your confession is met with mock sympathy.

“Poor, Baby. Needs his boyfriend to fill him up. Play with his little hole, make it loose and well used, huh? Need me to spit on it, make it sloppy. Stuff in my fingers to prepare you for my fat hard cock?”

“Yes. Yes!” You gasp, teasing your contracting hole with the pulsing vibrations of the toy in your shaking hand.

“Fuck. You sound so cute.” He says almost to himself. “Baby, reach into your bedside drawer and get your lube.”

You instantly toss the vibrator to the side. Hitting the speaker button you place your phone on the pillows beside you to grab the tube of clear gel in your bed sit table.

“Put it on your fingers and rub it everywhere. Coat your pretty cock, your tight balls and on and around that needy little hole of your’s. I want to be able to hear your hand moving against yourself any way I tell you to.”

Squirting a generous glob of lubricant onto your fingertips, snapping the lid shut and tossing it next to your toy, you begin rubbing the cold gel against the hot skin of your erection and most intimate areas. The vulgar sound of your wet palm working yourself fills the air alongside your breathy moans and sighs.

One hand is squeezing your shaft with every stroke, as the other kneads the slick into your sensitive balls —with your fingers moving further south to tease your clenching asshole.

“You sound so beautiful, Darling. Sounding so slick and desperate for me. Tell me what you’re doing. Paint me an image to jerk off to.” His lust coated voice purrs into your ear.

You tell him of your sprawled out naked form, your robe lost on the floor –forgotten– and your working hands on your groin.

“I’m stroking my cock and massaging my balls with lube like you told me to and made my needy hole sloppy how you like it.”

“You teasing your little asshole with your fingers?” He intersects.

“Yes, Sir.” He tsks in disapproval. “I’m sorry, Sir. I -ah- I couldn’t help it.” You whine with a high keen from the duel stimulation of your hands on your genitals.

“I know, my naughty boy. Always so excited for me with little patience.” You whimper apologetically that Apollo knows is hollow from your pleasure-filled moans.

I should punish you for your disobedience.” He lets his words hang between you, interrupted by a lusty moan of his own. “But… I’ll let it slide this one time for me having to leave you in this sorry state.” You eagerly whimper in agreement.

“Yes, please. I tried waiting for you but I miss you so much, Sir.”

“I know, Sweet boy and you’ve done so good for me. When I get home I’m gonna worship you as you deserve for being so good.” His promising and praising words melt over you, sending a shudder down your quivering form.

“As you stroke yourself can you insert one of your fingers into your tight hole for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” You instinctively reply

Releasing your testicals you readjust yourself against the pillows to better reach between your spread legs. Gathering the slick dripping around your hole you prod it with your middle finger teasingly a few times before finally sinking it knuckle deep. A high pitch sigh escapes your lips.

“Good boy. Start slowly pumping your finger till you can press another one in.”

Guiding you through your ministrations of your own genitals with body melting praise and bone chilling filth spewing into your ear till you’re able to comfortably curl three digits within your tight cavity.

“That’s my boy. Play with your ass harder, I want to hear the squelching of your fingers stretching you.” A choked-gasping moan tears through your throat as your movements become more aggressive. Hungry. Needy. Your other hand gripped around the tip of your shaft, thumb pressed and rubbing against your profusely leaking head.

“Sir- please. I- fuck!” You cry.

Balls tightening, cock twitching and eyes screwed shut with muscles cramping with built up tension. You can feel your end nearing and it feels so good. You want nothing more than to erupt in this moment with your fist wrapped around your raging erection and knuckles deep in your own quivering asshole but that relief was pulled out from under you by Apollo’s commanding voice rumbling in your ear.

“Stop!”

You groan and whimper in frustration at your obedient body pulling away at his single worded command –body shivering, toes curled and chest heaving.

“Good boy.” His rich voice smooths over your pleasure deprived body. “You were so close, weren’t you, Baby?” A sniffled ‘uhuh’ was your response as a frustrated tear streaks down your heated cheek.

“I know, Darling. I’m sorry but I couldn’t let our fun end just yet.” He says sweetly through the speaker. “We haven’t even gotten to properly use your toy, have we?” He asks, a clear smirk in his voice.

“No, Sir.” You manage to say, through heavy breath.

“No.” He parrots. “And what a shame it’d be to not.” He chuckles.

“Pick up your toy and put more lube on it, I want my vibrator to slide smoothly into your pretty asshole. Make it nice and easy to fuck yourself with it.” You give a whimpered ‘yes, sir’ as you dutifully spread more gel along the length of the purple toy and more on your waiting hole.

“Vibrate it against your hole. And no touching your cock.” The second half comes out as a thinly veiled threatening command. If you had half a mind left you might tempt that and purposefully disobey Apollo’s words but your well trained body was running on autopilot. Doing everything to please your boyfriend. To do just as he says for the rich reward of his praising words.

Rimming your hole with the toy, it takes everything not to finally shove it fully into your gummy walls. But you’re good. You wait despite your pleading body.

After a small eternity of sending vibrating pulses through your hole that is clenching the prodding silicone tip, eager to suck it in.

“Please- I need it, Sir. Please.” You plead wantonly, as your other hand rubs against your exposed chest, pinching and teasing your hard nipples for much needed stimulation.

“You haven’t touched your cock? Or pressed into your needy hole without my permission?”

“No, Sir. I was good. I promise.” You cry, hoping your words ring earnestly in his ears, granting you what you need most.

A torturous moment of his deafening silent tongue, nothing but his low growls and a grumbled ‘shit’ to be heard in the speaker.

“Go ahead, Baby. Stuff your slutty hole with your toy. Pretend it’s my cock. Imagine it’s me fucking into you. Pressing your body into the mattress with my hips.” You can hear the staggering in Apollo’s voice, his hand moving audibly faster with the added wetness of his spit.

Inserting the toy that doesn’t fill you nearly as much as you need. With your eyes squeezed shut you try to imagine it’s Apollo’s cock but it's not and that knowledge only makes your desperate misery deeper. Your free hand still resists touching your painfully hard cock, opting to continue toying with your nipples. Touching the expanse of your heated flesh with your palm.

“Please, Sir. Let me touch my -ah- my cock. Please. Please.” You are so hot, it feels as if a fire has been set under your skin, you’re past the point of caring about begging. You’d gladly grovel and lick the ground under Apollo’s feet for the chance to get the relief you’re so desperately seeking.

Thank the gods he takes pity on you, his voice just as debauched as yours.

“Yes, Baby boy. Stroke your cock. Squeeze it hard. I want to hear your cries of pleasure in my ear as I cum. I’m so close, Darling.” He growls, his voice low and restrained.

“My cock is so fucking hard for you, Baby. I should be the one inside your fucked out hole, not that toy. I should be the one making you cry, seeing your cute face —all fucked out and euphoric. Fuck!

Can you hear how hopelessly I’m stroking my cock, trying to make myself cum?”

You can’t. You are barely registering the words Apollo is saying through the rushing wave of pleasure crashing over you. You moan an affirmative sound anyway with your helpless ‘please’ and whimpered ‘yes’.

The two of you are no longer sharing coherent thoughts, you’re merely urging the other to their ends with praise and gratified sounds.

“So good for me. Fuck. I need you. Crave you. I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“Yes, Apollo. I’m- I-.” You are unable to finish your declaration before your high overtakes your body.

The never ending pulsing of the vibrator invading your quivering walls, hitting that secret button deep within, doesn’t falter along with your persistent fist. In a moment of blinding heat, the imaginary cord within you snaps and splits you into a million deliciously destroyed pieces.

Streams of hot white spunk shoot from your flared tip, painting your panting chest. The hand holding the toy slows, as well as your moving fist milking the last drops of your pent up seed till your fatigued riddled body slumps —the toy still lodged inside you and hand grasping your exhausted shaft.

All that’s left with your tired-shaky breath is the soundtrack of Apollo’s impending end. His breath horse and haggard as his hellbent hand furiously jerks his cock till his finally silently roars an open mouthed groan of release.

The next few moments are filled with your collective gasping breaths, the low hum of the vibrator overstimulating your used hole and soon a warm and coughed out chuckle from Apollo. You can faintly hear rustling coming from his end as he —presumably— begins cleaning himself up.

Then a finalizing sigh comes through.

“Are you still with me, Darling?” He asks, humor lacing his voice making you tiredly chuckle in return.

“Barely.” You joke. “That was-.”

“Wonderful.” Apollo finishes. It was –considering what you had available in your current separation.

With gentle guidance you turn off and slowly remove the vibrator from your pulsing insides and manage to turn your slack body onto your side, bringing the phone closer to your face.

“I miss you so much, Baby.” You confess, a bittersweet edge ringing true in the end.

“I know.” He really does.

Basking in the afterglow of your intense high, you listen to Apollo’s melodic voice praising you and saying more promises that makes your cock tempted to twitch back to life sooner than expected.

“Be prepared, my darling boy, once I get back you’re not leaving that bed till I’m satisfied.”

“Sounds like the kind of torture I can get behind.”

“You should be very careful what you wish for, you might end up biting off more than you can chew at once.” A giddy feeling wells up in your chest but is interrupted by the sound of a knock coming from the front door.

You let out a disappointed groan, you didn’t want to end your flirtations yet.

“What’s wrong?”

“There is someone at the door but maybe if I just stay here they’ll go away.” You say playfully but are met with a disapproving Apollo.

“No, no. Be a good boy and answer the door.”

“Fine.” You sigh, willing your body to sit up sighing from a delicious soreness radiating from beneath you.

And as if on cue, just as you were about to pick up your discarded rope Apollo interrupts you.

“Naked.” The single word makes you stop in your tracks.

“What?”

“You heard me. Be a good boy and answer the door –naked.” You try to retaliate but his tone leaves little for argument. “You are my obedient boy, aren’t you?” He asks, teasingly, knowing it’ll spark your submissive need to please. Gathering your dazed courage you sigh out a coy ‘okay’.

Walking out of your bedroom on shaky legs you patter over to the door with a thrilling mix of shame and excitement turning in your belly. Peeking through the peephole you don’t see anything —it’s covered, leaving only darkness in your sight.

“I can’t see who it is.” You whisper into the receiver making Apollo chuckle.

“That’s ok, just open it.” Swallowing your resignation and in a push of sudden courage you unlatch the lock and open the door.

On the other side is a smug, and slightly disheveled, looking Apollo hanging up the phone, shoving it into his pocket.

“I told you it’d be okay.” He says smugly, stepping into the doorway to capture your nude form in his arms. The door quickly shuts behind him as you leap into his arms, his hands eagerly cup under your ass. Your lips are locked with tongues in a desperate battle for dominance as he slips off his shoes and walks the two of you back to your shared bedroom.

The wind is knocked from your lung when he throws your back to the mattress before him. Propped on your elbows you watch entranced and bewildered as your boyfriend undoes his tie and begins stripping himself of his pointless expensive clothing.

“I hope you’re prepared, my darling.” He says, crawling over your body that is moving further up the mattress, in nothing but his underwear with a very prominent tent already forming.

“I wasn’t lying when I said we’d be in here till I’m done with you.

And I intend to uphold that promise.”

I’m still not very well versed in writing Male x Male stuff, i hope this wasn’t too bad

Feedback and Interaction is always appreciated! :)

💛 ~

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a-multi-fandom-maniac · 2 years ago

Text

Trust Me

(gif created by me)

Paring: The Riddler x reader

Requested by @yourcaptainkira64 :

“Hello, can I request a paul dano riddler fic if you write for him. Tropes I like are forced proximity and friends to lovers. Maybe even a yandere riddler of you're up for that (because he's kinda crazy). Lol happy writing!

Warnings: Themes of obsession, stalking, swearing, mentions of injuries, forced proximity (?), hints of one-sided love, friends to lovers, no use of y/n, first person pov.

Note: My first post! I hope that this is okay, I’ve only seen the movie like twice so I hope this fits your request😅 I also just googled riddles so I’m sorry if they’re kinda stupid LOL, enjoy! <3

———————————————————————————————————

The nights were long, and seemingly never ending.

Crime, murder, vengeance; The city of Gotham was the birth place and home to the bad seeds and the innocents, though nowadays it was difficult to differentiate the two from each other. If you’ve lived here as long as I have, you learn to never trust what someone claims themselves to be…no matter how well you know them.

It was nearing 3am at the Gotham general hospital, marking the twelfth hour of my shift. An attempted store robbery turned shootout nightmare landed twenty-three people in the hospital; no fatalities, but a few close calls. Originally today was an off day for me, but we’re understaffed and the crime rates are rising once more.

But then again, what’s new?

I slumped back into the old chair in the empty break room, reflecting back on my night. Hour after hour of running from room to room while the police are breathing down your neck isn’t the easiest thing to deal with, but someone has to get it done. I love what I do, honest, but there’s times where I question myself…but then again doesn’t everyone?

I drag hands down my face as a half-hearted attempt to rid myself from the pure exhaustion taking over my body when I heard my phone ding. I sigh as I lazily reach for it from the pocket of my scrubs and unlock it, as a small tired smile reaches my face.

It was Edward. He’s been my friend since I made the move to Gotham from where I used to live. We’ve gotten close over the years, while many say he’s…different-I find him kind.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary to check in on my while I was at the hospital, but it was a little odd that he was up this late. I opened the message to see what he sent.

Huh.

It was a photo of the sky. You could barely make out some stars peaking out from behind the stormy, smog ridden clouds- but they were there. Typically, Edward would send a little joke or something like that while I was at work but scenery pictures were new. I began to type a reply when suddenly he sent a follow up message.

Edward: What blooms like a flower whenever it rains but shrivels up when it stops?

I scoff out a small laugh. A riddle, what else would I have expected. On most days I love trying to solve his riddles, but tonight drained me of any energy I had left to try to solve it. I sent back a poor attempt of an answer as I gathered my things and approached the entrance to leave when my phone went off once more.

I slowed down to look back to my screen and upon reading the message, my body began to feel a sense of…something.

Edward: An umbrella. Make sure to use the red one outside of the entrance, it’s there specially for you. Get home safely.

I reread the message twice while looking around the almost empty sterile halls that surrounded me. I slowly approached the automatic sliding doors as my ears picked up on the heavy pelting of rain hitting the concrete. The flickering outdoor lights provided an eerie ambience as my eyes jumped from left to right until-

Ding!

Edward: To the right is where you’ll find what you need.

My heart spiked as I whipped my head around in all directions, observing. He had to be here, how would he know?

“Edward?” I quietly called out.

No response.

My chest begins to feel tight as a newfound feeling overcomes me. Something I had never felt before around Edward.

Fear.

Eventually, the lights stabilize themselves for long enough for me to notice the splash of red contrasting against the wet sidewalk. I drag myself over in the direction of it, making sure to be aware of my surroundings as I pick up the object.

An red umbrella, the one from his message. I was frozen in place. In the moment, this didn’t feel like a simple act of kindness. It felt scary; like a dream where you know it will become a nightmare at any given second.

“What the hell?” I whisper, voice shaking.

Suddenly, there was a startling bang to my left as I felt my legs move on their own. I began running as fast as I could, dropping the umbrella in my moment of panic. The only thing I could think of in that moment was the desperate urge to be safe in my apartment until the sun rose.

By the time I reached my place my heart was nearly beating out of my chest as water dripped from my face as I locked the door. I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t even put together a coherent thought. I let myself shut my eyes for a second before clumsily reaching for the light switch to the left of me and flicked it on. I peeled my eyes open as I adjusted to the light, when I stopped breathing at the sight before me.

Spread across my living room were pictures of me. Everywhere. Pictures of me going to work, me sitting in my living room, even me out on a coffee date with a guy my friend set me up with. My throat was dry as sandpaper as I tried to swallow my fear and walk closer. My legs shook like jello and it felt like I could feel my bones rattling inside my body. I slowly reached my hand towards a picture as I brought it to my face to examine it.

It was the coffee date image…except red marker was aggressively scribbled over my date while a big circled surrounded my smiling face, drops of ink spilling down to the bottom of the picture. I dropped it as if it was on fire as I backed away. I continued examining my apartment when I spotted a light yellow envelope on my coffee table.

I picked it up and turned it around, it was addressed to me with a smiley face next to it. I ripped the envelope open and reached my hand into it, pulling out the contents within.

It was a card?

“Okay..” I breathed out, feeling a little relieved. There was a picture of a caricature heart on the front with the words: what is mine that only you can have?

I tried to think, but my mind was foggy with unease. I opened the card.

My heart <3

I began to inch backwards, trying to calm down. This couldn’t have been from him, no it was too..too crazy. Edward wasn’t crazy! He was a sweet guy who worked in forensics and liked stupid jokes and riddles. He wasn’t capable of-

My back suddenly made contact with something behind me as I loudly gasped and flipped around, heart sinking in my chest down to my churning stomach.

A green figure loomed over my shaking body, eyes burning holes through my head as we stared at each other. I couldn’t see the intruder’s face, but I knew those eyes anywhere.

“Edward?,” I shakily whispered, seemingly stuck in my spot. My brain was screaming at me to run and get out of there, but my body was stuck in place like my shoes were glued to the floor, “what..what are you doing?”

He called out my name as he reached out to me. He placed his green faux leather covered hand on my face, moving down to caress my cheek. I should have ran, but I couldn’t help but feel my stomach flip in some weird way.

“You made it safely,” he said, smiled evident in his muffled voice. His eyes were squinted happily from behind his clear framed glasses, “I was worried about you when you didn’t take the umbrella I left you.”

He paused as his piercing gaze subtly hardened as he continued looking into my eyes.

“Why didn’t you take it?”

My breathing began picking up again. I hesitated for a moment before speaking up.

“Edward-“

“NO!” he suddenly yelled as he backed up, pacing around the open space of my living room. My heart stopped as my body jerked at his sudden outburst.

“I tried to help you! I’m looking out for you so no one else needs to, why can’t you just see that?”

He stopped his pacing as he came back over to where I was stood. He, surprisingly, gently grabbed my arms as he looked back into my eyes.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted; For you to be safe with me. No one else,” he said with a forceful undertone to his voice.

I felt tears making themselves known in my eyes, and the burn of my nose trying not to cry. I was terrified, but at the same time comforted by his words.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I whispered, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

His eyes seemed to soften as his grip loosened on my arms, but still keeping me in place.

“No,” he said while repeating my name, “no no why would you think that? All of this is for you! I would never dream of hurting you, you mean too much to me. I care too much about you to let you slip away from me.”

Oh.

He…cares about me. I should be scared. I should be terrified out of my mind and screaming for help, praying someone will answer. Or that the signal would light up in the sky and I would be saved.

But I didn’t feel afraid from his words.

I sniffled as I scanned up when down his body, examining what he was wearing and then back up to his eyes. I slowly reached for his glasses and mask as his body stilled while I revealed his face.

Edward. It really was him.

I looked at his face in silence before finally speaking.

“You won’t hurt me?” I quietly asked, “I need to know if I’m in danger, no matter how much I know and trust you.”

He suddenly had a dark look in his eyes as my words. He cupped my cheeks in his hands as he leaned in close to my face.

“I would rather die than cause you any harm.” he answered, “Trust me when I say that I will keep you safe from anyone or anything that tries to hurt you.” He paused and leaned in closer.

“I would kill anyone who even looked at you the wrong way.”

He moved his face next to my ear.

“You have my heart, and I know that I have yours.”

My breath hitched at his words. He was right. Edward always made me the happiest whenever I was stressed, especially at the hospital. But could I bring myself to love him when this is his true self?

He pulled away and looked into my eyes once more. It felt as if he could read every thought going through my mind.

“Just let go and let me take care of you, let me love you,” he begged, a desperate look in his eyes, “that’s all I ask. Please trust me.”

I couldn’t look away. I gave a small smile and a hesitant nod, and that’s all it took.

“Okay,” I whispered, mind racing a million miles a minute.

“I’ll trust you.”

—————————————————————————

#the riddler #paul dano #the riddler x reader #the batman #fanfic

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

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Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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aurorabayrpg · 2 years ago

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EVENT 003 {MARCH 24- APRIL 1st} AURORA BAY STORM

Aurora Bay has always been toted as a paradise, a place that barely ever sees cloudy skies, much less a rainstorm. But over the past few days, news stations have been reporting of a storm that was estimated to pass over the town. The residents, however, are blindsided with just how bad it will be.

Due to the town's proximity to the ocean, what was just going to be a rainstorm became much, much worse. Crashing waves will send water and debris into the closest residencies of the ocean but stores and buildings that are more inland will still feel the affects. And due to the powerful, gusting winds, power lines will be knocked out, cutting off cell service and plunging a lot of the town into darkness.

Residents will be advised to shelter in place, whether that be with loved ones or even amongst strangers in a safe space. Regardless of where you are, we urge everyone to stay off the streets and stay safe until this passes.

OOC INFO UNDER THE CUT

OOC INFO:

Here's our next event! We absolutely want people to plot with this one, so much so that we want this to be collaborative.

We will have five safe zones, places away from the ocean that will open their doors for people looking for cover, that if you want your character to be a part of, send us their names and we will randomize them, essentially placing random characters together to encourage plotting and writing with those you may otherwise not have anything in common with! We will accept character names to randomize until Wednesday. On Thursday we will post the list of who's where so you all can have time to plot. Again, this is completely voluntary!

Other than those spots, characters can be trapped at work or at home and of course we encourage plotting for that as well for threads.

Aurora Bay Drive, being right on the beach, and establishments on the waterfront will get the worst of it, but damage will be done to businesses and homes all around town. Ocean Crest Apartments, being the furthest from the ocean, will ultimately be the safest place to be (albeit without power). However, wherever the residents find themselves is where they'll be the rest of the night.

For the safe zones, characters can of course be there already when the storm hits! However, if you have a character that you're unsure of where to put them/just want to drum up a little plotting and drama, again just message us their names and we'll plop them into one of our five locations!

Extras:

During the course of this week leading up to the storm, there will be gustier winds and cloudier skies, all signs of a storm approaching.

In game, the storm is Friday night. The dash will be open for event posts starting Friday at 11am CST.

Power will be lost in the town in game from Friday night until the early hours of Sunday morning. This included cell service. The storm itself will clear in game by Saturday morning and by then people can of course go outside

Three open starters can be posted off the bat, after that please reply to those before making your own! all threads should be tagged aurorabay.storm and should be labeled with location.

Morning After posts on the dash can begin on Monday the 27th (but of course storm posts can continue throughout the week!)

If in a safe zone, please make sure to use the tags below for your threads

ALL STRUCTURAL DAMAGE AND INJURIES M U S T BE APPROVED BY THE ADMINS. We don't want thirty characters in the hospital with broken bones and every store in town shattered, so we will accept damage/injury plots at our discretion. (Scrapes and light injuries, and mild dents and dings to places are of course okay, but anything major needs to be approved first. Any questions or if unsure, please just ask!)

The Safe Zones:

All-Nighter Diner (aurorabay.diner)

Aurora Bay College (aurorabay.college)

Golden Hour Lounge (aurorabay.lounge)

Tidal Wave Music Shop (aurorabay.music)

Aurora Bay Vet Clinic (aurorabay.vet)

#aurorabay.event #aurorabay.event003 #aurorabay.storm

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gatefleet · 3 years ago

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Check-In

Leverage: Sophie Devereaux, Tara Cole Word Count: 554 T(W): None Request: Yes, “Request for Leverage fanfic for Sophie and Tara. Romantic or otherwise. One shot plot is them meeting after Nate's death? I saw a few good ones, but I need MORE.” – @zero-buds A/N: I LOVED writing this one, there is not enough love for these two! Hope it's what you were looking for! :) <3 Requests open (see pinned post)

The message came through a few days after the funeral. Sophie couldn’t bare to look at the messages. She was inundated with messages from those who knew Nate, those who knew her, those who knew them both. It was too much. Death is a hard thing to get over. Even harder thing to understand, to forgive. She was amazed that her phone still had the capacity to receive new messages. The team had stuck around for a day or two after the funeral, then clients kept calling and she told them to just go, listening to their phones dinging alongside her own were killing her. Sure, she could, and probably should, have just let the battery in her phone die, just turned it off, but she couldn’t. She knew it was ridiculous, but she left it on incase she received a message from Nate. Incase he had some message set to send after his death. She even set up a specific ringtone for Nate. Just incase.

After another week or so, the messages stopped coming through, Sophie couldn’t tell if it was because the inbox was finally full or not. Scared that there was still a chance for a last message from Nate she began clearing out some of the older messages, barely looking at the names as she erased them. As she was erasing messages her doorbell rang. Sophie looked up exaserated at the same point her phone started dinging again with all the messages finally managing to get through. She threw her phone on the couch next to her and went to answer the door. The face that met her was the last one she expected.

“Tara?” Tara gave a small smile and immediately pulled Sophie into a hug, apologising for not being there sooner, explaining that she had sent messages and tried to phone several times, but never received a response. Sophie was still in shock and trying to register that Tara had come all the way from wherever she had been staying just to see her. Tara was going at a quick pace explaining how she was in deep cover and hadn’t gotten news of Nate’s illness or death until a few days after the funeral when her assignment had ended. She walked into Sophie’s house with Sophie trailing behind her. “Where’s the wine, you look like you could use a drink. Or 10.” She turned back to start going through cupboards looking for glasses and Sophie’s wine stash.

The ladies spent the rest of the night drinking and talking, reliving the past, Tara’s time with the team, the girl’s time together pre-team. They started off the night at the kitchen island, then moved into the sitting room where the fire place was. It was the first time in what felt like forever that Sophie felt lighter, Tara refused to give Sophie a chance to realise she was happy and begin to feel guilty, she deserved at least one day to be her, to not feel guilty about being happy. Neither of the women had any idea when they both ended up on the floor, wrapped around and into one another. When Sophie awoke she couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s sleeping form, arms wrapped protectively around her, protecting her from the darkness that was threatening to consume her.

(GIF Credit: @haybalemaze)

#leverage #tara cole #sophie devereaux #sophie x tara #sophie devereaux x tara cole

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shoutogepi · 5 years ago

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Orange Lamborghini

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 6.3k

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : lil toucha ass play, car sex, baku being a damn tease

bio : You keep telling yourself you’re done with Bakugou, but the last time is never really the last time, is it?

author’s note : i know i said i was gonna post a tamaki fic but it’s a certain violent blonde’s birthday tomorrow!! (happy 4/20 ayy) so here you go ;) … also this is a part two to my other baku fic, “fuck you i just might”, but you don’t have to read that one before this if you don’t wanna!

side note : Y/H/N is your hero name, and reader is a pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou. ALSO he smells like caramel bc of his quirk, dont fight me on this >:(

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂taying late again?” Reo, the owner of the coffee cart stationed in the lobby of the hero agency, quizzes as he throws you an accusatory look.

You stand before him, hand awkwardly looped around your elbow and a small, bashful smile on your lips. He totally knows. But you appreciate that he never outright says anything, and you know for a fact that he would never peep even a whisper to anyone. You are probably his most loyal customer, and you’d like to think he considers you a friend after all this time— not to mention, all the coffee you’ve purchased from him.

Reo gauges your meek expression, and he only smiles as he pours the creamer into the dark brown liquid. “They must be working you hard… I’ve never seen a top hero work such long hours, staying even after everyone else has left. Well, almost everyone, that is.”

Yeah, he most certainly knows.

“What can I say?” You blabber, perhaps answering him a bit too quickly. “Work is my whole life. I don’t have time for anything else, I guess.” The sentiment is a little awkward but full of candor, and when the words leave your lips you’re surprised to hear them carry such a solemn tone.

The man nods in understanding, handing you your cup of coffee before he grabs a cookie from the glass display case and offers it to you as well. “On the house,” he states and you share a long showdown of a gaze with him before you reluctantly pluck the treat from his outreached tongs.

“Thanks Reo, you have a good night now.” Bowing slightly to the elder, you turn and take your leave, quiet steps echoing in the otherwise empty foyer.

Just as the elevator doors open to take you back up into the higher levels of the building, Reo calls out to you. “You know, you should find someone that’s just as hardworking as you. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

Flustered by the old man’s advice, you only nod and bow again, jamming your thumb into the button. A sigh of relief escapes you as the doors conceal you from his prying eyes. That man has a sixth sense, you swear.

The elevator doors open and you briskly walk through them, along the corridor and around the corner before you finally reach the conference room. Taking a deep breath, you slip through the doorway, eyes trained on the table half-covered in paperwork. Bakugou is sitting behind the spread out files, his red eyes jumping up to regard your approaching form. Placing the cookie wrapped in napkin on the table, you nod at him as you turn and open a cabinet, fingers pinching a fresh manilla folder and shutting the door with a bump from your hip.

“Working late, huh?” His rough voice splits the silence hanging in the air, and when you turn to look at the blonde, he’s lounged back, corded bicep hung carelessly over the back of the chair and a cocky look on his face. But his eyes hold another emotion as they give you a once-over, one that makes your insides stir in both memory and apprehension.

You nod again, a coy smile gracing your lips as you take a sip of your coffee, your own gaze lingering on the muscles that poke out from the hem of his tight tank top. “You too?” You ask, even though the answer is obvious.

Bakugou’s hand twirls the pen he was previously using in rapid, effortless circles, and his knee bounces slowly underneath the table. “You gonna eat that?” He answers your question with his own, slanted eyes flicking towards the cookie resting on the tabletop just an arm’s length away from him.

“You want it?” You can’t help but be surprised— you always expected Bakugou to be an uppity-ass, no-junk-food kind of guy.

“It’s Reo’s, right?” The blonde replies gruffly, thick fingers reaching out to grab the confection. “Shit tastes like heaven.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Why, that sly little…

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” you chirp out as you turn on your heel, ready to retreat back to the safety of your office.

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes return back to your departing figure, a thin brow raised and a snarl of a smirk splitting his lips. “Aw, ‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” it flows from your mouth, years of foul-mouthing built up into a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes widen as his turn to slits, that stupid smirk morphing into a gleaming grin.

“Don’t tempt me.”

A wave of heat washes over you from head to toe before settling between your legs. You don’t bother to stick around, your feet carrying you out of the conference room as Bakugou’s harsh laughter trails behind you, echoing down the hallway.

Closing the door to your office behind you, you lean your back against it as you slide toward the floor, shutting your eyes tight as the memory washes over you. He’d taken you— right there on the desk you’re supposed to be working at— and ugh, it was fucking good. Shit, he was good. Dropping the folder on the floor your fingers fly to your temple, rubbing your skull in a useless attempt to push the memory away.

Alright, if you’re being honest… that was just the first time. There were, well, a handful of times following the initial incident, much to your now chagrin. There was that time in his office on the other side of the building that had a perfect view of the ocean, which you had become very familiar with while your face was pressed up against the glass and he ravaged you from behind. There was also that time when it was around this time of night and he had thrown all your paperwork off of the conference table and taken you right there, pounding into you like no tomorrow. Yeah, there were a few times you’d found yourself naked before him, pussy gripping his thick cock as your lips clashed with his.

But last time was the last time. You can’t just keep fucking him like this, all over the agency in such scandalous secrecy… the two of you hiding this gruesomely passionate beast you co-own, feeding it only once the the coast is clear and, oh, he feeds it so well… every meal a juicy, fat steak dripping with desire and euphoria, encasing your senses in a silky smooth film as his calloused hands glide all over your— No!

You shake your head abruptly, derailing your sinful train of thought. You agreed that last time was it, fin. And… the time before that, too… and maybe the one before then as well— well, it doesn’t matter because last time was actually the last time. Pulling yourself together, you make your way toward your desk and begrudgingly begin your work.

By the time the folder is full, the clock indicates that tomorrow has begun and thus, it’s time for you to go home. Without a glance towards the conference room, you make your way toward the elevator, letting out a long sigh as the weight of the day slips from your shoulders. Jabbing your thumb into the button, you lean against the railing and check your phone out of habit. Two new messages from Jirou pique your interest, and you eagerly open the chat log to see what she’d sent.

Jiji 🎸: Girls meeting at the usual tmrw night!! Hope you can make it :)

Jiji 🎸: We all miss ya girly, you’ve been working too much lately ❤️

A part of you feels bad for misleading your friends. It’s not that you aren’t working late these days… it’s that your workload is not the only thing you’re doing when you stay after hours at the agency. Your friends had started to notice all the late nights you’d been spending at your job, and they’d begun to pout when you would bail on their bar-nights. They understood that you were working, and you hoped that they didn’t harbor any further suspicions. You had not told a single soul about your rendezvous with Bakugou Katsuki— the only person who seemed to have an inkling of your relationship, if you could call it that, was Reo.

Sliding your phone into your bag, you decide to try to make it tomorrow night. The last time had been the last time with Bakugou, so you would definitely be free tomorrow night, especially after finishing up the paperwork you had just completed minutes prior. With a wave of determination washing over you, a small smile appears on your lips as you fiddle with your staff key-card absentmindedly, wondering what you should wear when tomorrow night comes around.

When the elevator dings and opens its doors, your feet take you out of the steel chamber and into the cement confines of the parking garage. At this time of night, the only way in and out of the building is through the parking garage gate, seeing as the custodians lock up the front doors long before midnight. But you don’t mind, because the night air is fresh and cool on your face, and the subway is only a three minute walk from the garage exit. Just before you can reach out to tap your key against the automatic gate, an ear-splitting screech roars behind you and you jump, shooting straight up into the air.

Whipping around, headlights nearly blind you as they point right into your eyes. Squinting at the obnoxious light, your vision widens again when you recognize the outline of a sleek and shiny Lamborghini. An orange Lamborghini, to be precise. And a license plate with “G-ZER0” unmistakably tacked onto the front bumper, which sits almost flush against the smooth cement floor.

“Oi, Y/H/N,” a blonde head pokes out from the driver’s window, narrowed red eyes glaring at you. But his lips are curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying your frightened-animal-like reaction to the startling revv of his engine. “You’re blockin’ the way.”

Your hands indignantly turn into fists at your hips, a frown and a furrowed brow marring your expression as you turn around. Smacking the key card against the scanner you strut directly in the middle of the pavement for as long as you can before the road widens. Once the car can easily fit on either side of you, you move over to the sidewalk, arms crossed over your chest as the low car matches your pace, engine purring loudly.

The window next to you rolls down soundlessly, and the blonde leans slightly over his console to crane his face up in order to see yours. “Where are you goin’?” Bakugou inquires, and you can feel his intense gaze on the side of your face but you do not turn to acknowledge him.

“Subway.” You reply shortly, eyes trained straight ahead of you. Three minutes until you reach the subway station, exactly two corners and two blocks away.

The car roars as the angry blonde hits the pedals again, exhaust crackling with a ferocity similar to a big cat’s. The sound is deafening but you don’t waver, feet placing calmly in front of one another. “At this hour?” He pauses for a moment, long enough for you to let your guard down and chance a look at him. Which is a mistake, because goddamn he looks sexy as hell sitting in that exorbitant car, one hand thrown atop the wheel with his bicep on display, the other arm perched atop the console between the seats and those vermillion eyes blazing into you. It’s only a mere second that you give him, but he knows your resolve flutters as you look away quickly, your pace increasing to make him press on the gas just a hair harder to keep up with you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he speaks again, your heart pummeling your ribcage with vigor and a claminess lining your palms.

“Get in.”

It’s neither a question nor a statement— it’s a demand. One that has heat rising between your legs, the embers that had been so surely extinguished suddenly igniting furiously with but a scrap of sustenance. You grit your teeth and keep walking, determined not to get in the car. If you get in that car… you don’t know where you’ll end up. Or, you do know where you might end up, and that would be very bad. It takes a lot of your willpower to spit out a simple, “No thanks.”

Bakugou grumbles at your stubbornness, the vehicle screeching again as he demonstrates his displeasure and the unnecessary horsepower underneath his hood. “Come on, Y/N. Just get in,” he presses, his voice not as harsh as it was just a moment ago.

But you hold your own, flipping a stray lock of hair over your shoulder. “Aw,” you smirk, humoring him for a millisecond as your eyes flick over to him, “‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Boom-Boy?” Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he visibly bristles in the corner of your eye.

“Damn it, I’m trying ‘ta— tch,” Bakugou grumbles and cuts himself off before he apparently decides he’s not going to play the familiar game of cat and mouse with you, “Fuck this.” Tires squealing on the rubble, the sleek car leaves you in the dust, sharply turning the corner ahead of you before disappearing into the night, the noise of the thundering engine echoing through the tall cityscape.

You glare at the corner ahead of you, unimpressed. He was trying to— to what, put you in a pissy mood? Hell of a job he did, if that was the case. Frown sinking into your cheeks deeper than before, you continue your way to the subway station while you pull your phone out to distract you from your miffed thoughts. Turning around the very same corner the orange sports car had rounded just a minute ago, you nearly drop your belongings when a pair of rough hands grip your biceps.

Relief washes over you for a moment when you meet Bakugou's irritated expression, before horror spreads through your limbs as he shoves you into his open passenger door. Without much of a fight you’re inside the vehicle, fruitlessly yanking the door handle only to find it’s locked shut. Sliding back into the luxurious leather seat, you scowl at the hero as he slams his door closed and snags the black seatbelt over his torso. “The fuck, Bakugou?” You hiss, attempting the door again to no avail.

“Hey, easy with that!” He growls, a thick finger flicking the pedal shifter into drive and slapping his boot against the gas. His eyes meet yours as a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Buckle up, Princess.”

Your head smacks against the back of the seat as the car lurches into a velocity that no doubt exceeds the speed-limit. Your hands scramble over your shoulder and you frantically grab the metal clip, unceremoniously shoving the belt across your lap to find its destination. Once the joint clicks into place, your eyes fly to the man beside you, pure rage boiling underneath your skin. “You asshole! I’m gonna rip your dick off!” You yell, the slightly ajar windows letting air zip into the cabin and howl in your ears, your hair flying around your face.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he quips dryly, voice deep but holding an infuriatingly potent tone of amusement.

You shut up at that, heat rising to your cheeks as you look out the window defiantly, away from him. Your eyes trail over the interior of the car, curiosity winning you over as you your fingers trace the smooth features lining the inside of the door. There’s a soft underlighting beneath the seats, glowing an acidic green to compliment the orange of the exterior in a display that screams man with an enormous ego. You roll your eyes, adjusting your legs to point away from him as much as possible.

“I didn’t know you had a Lamborghini. This how you get into your slutty fangirls’ pants? Take ‘em for a ride in the Baku-bile?” You ask, shooting daggers into his sharp jawline. The premise of him fucking faceless girls in the very seat you’re in makes you want to throw up in disgust.

Bakugou snorts at the name, scarlet eyes snapping toward you before settling back on the road. “Don’t need to show ‘em my car to take ‘em for a ride,” he answers snidely, a sharp canine gleaming at you from his smirk.

You don’t acknowledge his reply, one arm crossed over your chest and the other gripping the side of the door harshly as the city flies by outside the windows. You wonder where he’s taking you, because he never asked for your address, but you sure as hell aren’t going to start up a conversation again with that dickwad, so you just simmer in your displeasure instead.

The ride is surprisingly smooth and you would never admit it, but the feeling of him stepping on the acceleration makes your heart thud, adrenaline coursing through your veins and washing over you. You try your best to hide your excitement with every boost of speed, but you don’t catch Bakugou’s eyes lingering on your tiny smile every time he accelerates. You almost whine when the car slows and you pull into an empty parking lot, apprehension settling in your chest as the engine cuts and you’re left in silence, with him. A public park stretches before the lot, empty swings and monkey-bars twirling leisurely in the wind.

He doesn’t say a word, so after an incredibly long and awkward minute you break the ice. “Bakugou… what are we doing here?” You turn to him expectantly, lips melting back into a frown as you give him a once-over. He’s still in that tank top, which you curse for being a part of his hero costume. Why the hell did he have to choose something so flattering?

The blonde casts a side glance at you, leaning back slightly in his seat. “Wanted to have a chat with ‘ya,” he says, turning to look at you fully. The car seems like it is not big enough, for he’s only a short distance away from you and looking handsome as ever. The park before the windshield is illuminated by only the moon and starlight, casting a soft glow onto his smooth skin. The stubble on his jaw scatters tiny shadows across his chin, and those scarlet eyes peer into yours deeply. The moment is full of unrestrained tension, until he speaks again. “Coulda done this in the garage but your stubborn ass wouldn’t gimme the time of day,” he grumbles, effectively releasing you from his trance.

You blink and look away before returning your attention to him, a sour expression on your face. “Okay, dipshit, what did you wanna talk about?” You huff, arms crossing over your chest defensively. So you might have gotten yourself into this, but only a tiny bit.

You’re left hanging, expectantly eyeing him with a measured gaze. His eyes are locked with yours, but his mouth doesn’t move, not a semblance of a word on his lips. You give him that ‘eyes widening and head jutting forward, I’m waiting for you to talk’ look, but still he’s quiet. Tossing your hair over your shoulder impatiently, you let out a frustrated sigh as you close your eyes. “Look,” you start, turning back to him ready to flame his ass, “I don’t—”

Bakugou’s lips are on yours, his hands clutching your jaw and pushing your mouth into his while he leans forward over the console between the seats. A moan tears from your lungs, the familiar scent of caramel crashing over you as he fills up your senses, fingertips weaving into the hair behind your ears. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, greeting yours like a lover desperate to hold his beloved, caressing and rolling and dancing.

Suddenly your hands are on him, one around his back and pressing him toward you while the other threads through his silky soft tresses. A groan rumbles out of him as you pull against his scalp, one of his hands slipping down the back of your head to hold where your neck meets your shoulders, squeezing the sides of your throat gently. An embarrassing mewl floats out of you at that, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you both gasp for breath.

His red eyes twinkle at you mockingly, a sultry snarl on his lips. But Bakugou doesn’t dare say a word, instead claiming your lips again with his own, sucking in your bottom lip and biting gently with his pointy canines. The hand on your neck remains strong, while his other hand slithers down your chest, groping your breast with enthusiasm and his thumb roving over your already-hard nipple, which he can feel through the fabric of your skin-tight hero costume and bra. He moans at the discovery, fingers eagerly flying to your side and unraveling the zipper there, watching as the skin of your exposed chest becomes illuminated in a mixture of moonlight and the green glow emanating from beneath the seats. Tugging the wire to rest atop your tits, he nearly growls at the sight of them, diving face-first toward you and wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You buck into him, falling back uncomfortably onto the door, but he just crawls onto his seat and leans further into you, red eyes darting up to catch your wanton expression.

Desperately gripping at the shreds of your sanity, a tiny part of you screams out at the wrongness of the situation. “We shouldn't… fuck, Bakug— ohhh,” you whimper as he nibbles at you, your heart rate skyrocketing in desire as you close your eyes, trapping your trembling lip between your teeth. The rationale is pushed away, the only thing you can pay attention to being the way Bakugou’s mouth feels latched onto you, and the hand traveling down your torso to tease between your legs. His rough fingers prod at your cunt through your leotard, expertly locating your clit through the cloth and focusing extra attention there. Simmering tendrils of heat burst through you and you cry out, legs weakly drawing his wide frame closer to you.

After a moment Bakugou sits back in his seat, pulling you with him. It’s a little rocky, not a perfect transition, but you make your way to sit on his lap nonetheless. His large hands palm your tits roughly, pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles with yours, your moans leaking into his mouth. His body jerks in surprise as your hips begin to roll against his, and you can feel just how bad he wants this too, rubbing into you against your thigh. It only makes him touch you harder, leaning down slightly and becoming lost in the heated kiss. A hand trails down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, cupping the flesh before he slaps it harshly, then holding it in his palm again as his fingers dig into your skin. He drinks up every noise you release, like a starved man receiving his first meal in forever. He pulls away to kiss down your neck, tongue licking a stripe down your throat before his warm mouth lands on your skin, nipping and lathering and sucking.

“This is,” you gasp, coming up for air and that scrap of sanity surfacing in your mind again, “We shouldn’t be doing this, we— we said that last time was the, ahuh-ahh, last… last time.”

Bakugou sucks harder against your neck, his hands on either ass cheek and pulling your bottom against him. The friction of his cock against your core, even with your clothes separating you, makes your head spin and your voice die out. “You want me to stop, hah?” He grumbles against your throat, slick with his saliva. He rolls your hips against his particularly hard, and your hand reaches out to latch onto his shoulder as your pussy twinges in your panties.

You cannot reply, only a high-pitched whimper tumbles out of you because suddenly he’s pushing aside your leotard and panties, digits dipping into your humiliatingly wet entrance. His fingers easily glide up and down your slit, thumb flicking cruelly against your clit as you double over, nails breaching the skin on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t seem like you know what you want,” he comments, voice gravelly and timbre. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you from grinding against him. He’s looking up at you, eyes darkened with lust and that haughty grin splitting his lips.

You glare at him, eyebrow twitching at his torment, mouth wavering as his fingers continue to tease along your sopping folds. After being with him so many times, you know what he’s waiting for, but you’re absolutely torn; a moth drawn to the flame yet wary of being burnt. “Please, Bakugou,” you murmur, eyes begging him to give you more.

Bakugou’s brow quirks upright, a single knuckle pushing into you and rubbing against your velvet walls. “Please, what, Princess?” He drawls out, almost purring at having you in his favorite position. That being, you, desperate for his touch.

You groan, throwing your head back as another knuckle slides inside, two wide fingertips stretching your cunt so infuriatingly shallowly. You try to move your hips but his grip is iron on your waist, and a long whine falls out of your mouth. “Just— Pleaseee Katsuki,” you beg, not wanting to say the words he truly wants, but not giving him nothing as his name leaves your lips so seductively.

His nostrils flare as he exhales, shifting underneath you as you feel his cock twitch against your leg. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” He growls, tone low enough you can feel his words shake his lungs. They shake something within you, too.

“No,” you breathe out, placing your lips softly against his before pulling away, your eyes boring into his, “I want this, I want you so bad.”

Bakugou groans as he drives his fingers into you knuckle-deep, curling his fingertips and rubbing against your insides. You moan like a whore at the sensation, his thumb still working on your clit clumsily as he pumps his fingers into you. His lips capture yours again, the hand on your hip jumping up to grab onto your neck again and push your lips harder onto his.

A searing heat ebbs through your body as his digits dutifully work within you, and you can’t help but begin to drop your hips against his hand, grinding onto his fingers without restraint. Bakugou clearly appreciates that, a loud moan ripping out of his lungs at the novelty and his fingers press harder into you, colliding into that spongy spot deep inside. You sob at the intensity, pleasure wracking through you as the angle only makes it easier for him to hit that spot— again, and again, and again— until white shapes flash before your eyes and you’re clutching onto him, screaming out as ecstasy thrums through your entire being.

After a minute of your pussy fluttering around him, Bakugou’s fingers pull out of you, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you like you’re the hottest person on the planet. “Fuck,” he snarls, lip twitching as he lifts his hips, tugging down his black pants and briefs half-way down his thighs. His heavy cock smacks against his abdomen, looking pale and pretty in the low lighting, glistening with a bead of pre rolling down the side of his length.

You lick your lips at the sight, the desire to shove him into your mouth overcoming you. Bakugou catches your reaction, a low chuckle reverberating his chest and making you glance at him. “I wanna suck you off,” you say quietly, looking over to the passenger seat and wondering if you could do it from that position, because you certainly can’t do it from where you are now.

“Thas’kay Princess,” he mumbles, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his once again. His tongue glides over your lip slowly, his other hand smacking your ass roughly before he grabs the inside of your thigh, spreading you above him. “That can wait. Need you right now.”

His words send a different kind of shiver down your spine— the kind that was the whole reason why you’d told yourself you needed to stop fucking him in the first place. But right now, in this moment, there is no way you’re not going to fuck him. You’d already come this far, you might as well just indulge yourself in him.

So you do, and you both let out a breath of satisfaction as you rub your dripping cunt against the underside of his length. You lather him up, slickening his member in your arousal from back to front before you press your lips onto his, soft but passionate, and you welcome him inside with ease.

Bakugou’s head falls back onto the headrest as his hands lay slack on your hips. He’s reclined, but his red eyes jump between your face, your tits, and your cunt that sucks him up so greedily as you begin to bounce above him. His mouth hangs open slightly as you find your rhythm, your hands ripping up the bottom of his tank top to lay your palms on his chest and his abs, a thumb scratching through his kept and dark happy trail. “Hah— fuck, Y/NNN,” he moans, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on such a dreamy sight. Memorizing your body, willing himself to remember each moan and blissful expression you give, storing it away so he can burn them into his spank bank.

Once he’s had his fill of the wondrous sight, he sits up, mouth sucking in your nipple as his hands still your hips, grabbing the flesh there and wiggling to adjust himself underneath you. Ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, thrusting up harshly to prod deep inside your womb, stretching you out and rubbing so deliciously against your g-spot. “Oh, god, Katsuki,” you wheeze as he just goes faster, thick and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. Just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, and you’re about to complain before a long finger is thrust into your mouth.

Bakugou groans as your tongue coats the digit in spit, not needing instruction. “You gonna be a good girl for me, Princess?” He questions before he takes the finger out.

Your arms fold around his neck as you nod and kiss him again, drunk on his lips and his touch. He welcomes the tender moment, a hand planting on your ass and spreading you again before his wet finger meets your asshole, making you jump into him with wide eyes. “Ka—”

His lips pull you back in, silencing your hesitance as he begins to thrust his cock up into you again, pace measured and slow. The roll of his hips provides a new type of pleasure as his cock drags against your inner walls, your clit rolling on his pelvis. You quiver on top of him, hole puckering as his finger rubs around your rim. You whimper when he pushes inside, the small stretch foreign and stinging. But he doesn’t push it any further, just continues to lazily grind up inside of you, his tongue playing with yours. He only breaks away to whisper praise to you that makes your pussy shiver around him, “Good girl, you’re sucha good girl Y/N.”

Before long the digit is up to the second knuckle, and you’re a moaning mess above him. The feeling of his finger in your ass, with his cock stretching and pushing in and out of you— it has your eyes crossing in pleasure. The thin wall separating his cock and his finger continues to rub exquisitely on both sides, sending waves of fuzzy bliss coursing through your limbs.

The extra penetration seems to also be affecting Bakugou, for his thrusts begin to pick up as he starts slapping up into you with renewed ferocity. The stimulation from your pussy and your clit already have you clenching, but then he starts to push his finger in and out of your ass slowly, and you’re holding onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder as you mewl into his neck. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and so can Bakugou, who nuzzles your face a bit before he kisses you again. Your lips dance sloppily, your body jostling as he pounds into you from below, and you begin to whimper as your cunt tightens around his cock.

“Still want me to stop?” He hisses, rough palm clapping across your ass cheek.

“Fuck no,” you pant, planting your knees on the seat beside his thighs and bucking up and down in tune with his pace.

Bakugou groans at your initiative, knuckle sliding deeper inside of you and gauging your reaction as your shudder against him in pleasure. “You like a finger in the ass, hah? Fucking slut,” he snarls as he rubs the digit inside of you, eliciting a low moan from the depths of your lungs.

You’re bouncing on his lap as best as you can, your head skimming the top of the car’s interior while you claw at his shoulders. “God, Katsuki, mphhh—” The added pressure of you sinking down as he ruts up is almost enough for you to cum, and Bakugou knows exactly how close to the finish line you are, grabbing your jaw and tugging your face to hang directly in front of his.

You brow furrows and your heartbeat hastens at the intimacy, passion crackling between the pair of you as his vermillion orbs burn into you. You don’t want to let him see such a vulnerable part of you, but he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. Your orgasm tears through you and an overwhelming heat blasts into your body like wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from you as your eyes slam shut, limbs shaking, nails diving into his traps, and toes curling in your shoes.

Bakugou gasps as you constrict around him, moving his hands to clasp onto your hips tightly, throwing your body down to meet his as he pistons into you. Skull falling backwards limply, your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, his actions dragging out your mind-numbing climax delightfully long. He launches at the exposed skin of your neck, teeth sinking into your throat hard enough to leave dark bruises there, moaning shamelessly into your flesh as his thrusts become quicker, needier. “S-Shit, where should I— ‘m gonna—”

Your fingers rush to his hair, snapping his head backwards and his eyes widen in surprise, but you smother his open mouth with yours immediately, your tongue plunging into his wet cavern and claiming him as your own. Your hips hurl onto his with finality and the blonde stiffens beneath you, trembling fingers pressing into your skin. A loud groan rattles both of your bodies as his load spills into you, coating your womb in his sticky release as you continue to drop onto his searing cock slowly. When he comes down from his high he squeezes your waist gently to signal you to stop, sitting back with his jaw hung open slightly, laboured and choppy breaths making his sculpted chest rise and fall sharply.

You let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. It’s peaceful laying in his arms, the post-orgasm bliss thriving and filling the entire cabin of the vehicle in a hot and sweet scent. Or maybe that was just Bakugou— you subtly sniff his skin and smile, the caramel-like aroma from his exertion wafting off of him. He’s warm, and somehow even though his muscles are rock-hard beneath you, his embrace is soft. You nuzzle into his neck as his fingers glide over your moist back, arms locked around your waist.

Neither of you say a word, two heartbeats thumping rapidly against each other as you enjoy each other’s presence. The both of you desperately cling to this moment of serenity, knowing that soon enough you’ll have to go back to normal, and this will have just been another “last time.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

no one asked for this but i did it anyway 🤪🤪 happy birthday blasty 💥💚🧡

➥ masterlist

#mhmm ive been thinking about this for awhile #hope it was alright!! i know nothing about cars nor car sex LMAO #especially not lamborghinis lol #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugo katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my fics #my fics katsuki

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calamitykaty · 5 years ago

Text

A Twist of Fate

Charlie x Fem! Reader

Word count:7670

Warnings: Slight Swearing, I think that’s it?

Requested: Sorta? It’s a multi writer topic by @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic revolving around the idea of y/n finding an ad to rent a date for Thanksgiving. *You can find the first writers fic HERE

A/N: HUGE thank you to @dream-a-little-bigger-x for reading every rough draft of this that I sent her, along with bouncing ideas with me! Also a huge thank you to @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic for supporting me when I got stuck and reading my super rough draft!

I wasn’t gonna post this until tomorrow but now I have a Christmas Reggie fic that I want to post tomorrow so...Happy Reading.

Y/N wrapped the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck and pulled her favorite slouchy red beanie over her thick mop of curls. Her cellphone was pressed between her right shoulder and ear as she buttoned up her navy peacoat and half-listened to her mom rattle off the preparations she needed to make for Thanksgiving.

“Mom, I really need to…” Y/N attempted to interject only to be cut off by her mother. She placed the phone on speaker and set it down on the counter while she slipped her feet into a pair of black boots. She had stopped listening to her mother’s droning voice nearly a half-hour beforehand, but her ears perked up when her mother asked the dreaded question.

“Are you bringing Noah this year honey? I know you guys like to alternate holidays with his family, but your Aunt Martha is going to make it this year and she is just tickled to finally get to meet him.”

Y/N pursed her lips and ran a hand over her face, she hadn’t told anyone that Noah broke things off with her two months prior. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret for so long, but her mom loved Noah and she just knew she would blame her for ruining a good thing. She had been dating Noah for three years and it was perfect until Noah started talking about marriage and Y/N began to realize that she couldn’t picture her entire life with him. Noah felt like a moment in time to her, not an eternity.

“I’ll have to check, Mom, I don’t know what Noah is doing yet.” Y/N settled on a half-truth to buy herself some time. She placed her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her head in her hands.

“Honey, I need to know by the end of the week, okay?”

She could hear the irritation in her mother's voice at the non-answer that Y/N had given to her. Her mother was a meticulous planner and she could not stand curve balls making a mess of her perfect holiday plans. Her mother treated every holiday as if the editors of Better Homes & Gardens were going to drop in at any moment and do a two-page spread on her decor and perfect meal.

“Got it, mom! I have to go!” Y/N quickly ended the phone call and shoved her phone into her pocket. She huffed out a heavy sigh and made her way to her front door, grabbing her keys from the catch-all bowl on the table next to the door. She quickly locked up her apartment and rushed down the two flights of stairs to the small community lobby. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and reached for the door but stopped as a new flyer on the community board caught her eye. She took a step back and ripped the paper from the thumbtack that held it to the cork board and shoved it into her coat pocket before pulling the door open.

Her hair whipped around her face as she stepped outside and was met with the cool autumn breeze that had settled in over the last month. Y/N looked both ways before stepping off of the sidewalk and hurrying across the street where her best friend, Leigha, was already waiting for her inside the small corner cafe.

“How is it that I have to drive from the other side of town and can make it on time but you literally live across the street and can’t?” Leigha teased as Y/N unraveled her scarf and took her coat off, draping both over the back of her chair before sitting down.

“Sorry! Sorry! My mother…” Y/N rolled her eyes as she recalled the phone call.

“Enough said!” Leigha laughed, she had one of those laughs that turned heads. Her laugh was always a little too loud and sometimes she would snort, it always caused Y/N to break into a fit of giggles. Leigha had been Y/N’s roommate all the way through college and they had been inseparable since the very first day they had met.

“So,” Leigha crossed her arms on top of the table,” did you work up the courage to tell her about Noah?”

Y/N shifted her gaze across the cafe and bit her lip “not exactly…”

“You are unbelievable, y/n ” Leigha sighed, exasperated.

Y/N snapped her eyes back to Leigha and held her hands up in defense “I tried! Well...I mean…I tried to try…”

“You know if you show up stag and your mother already has a place setting for a plus one, you might as well just go ahead and bury yourself, honestly” Leigha tutted.

“That’s why I have a plan!” Y/N turned around and rustled through the pockets of her peacoat before placing the crumpled flyer on the table. She smoothed her hands over the paper and pushed it towards the middle of the table.

Leigha snatched the paper up as the waitress came over and took their orders, Leigha ordered a blueberry scone with a chai tea while Y/N ordered a croissant with a side of strawberry preserves and a coffee.

“I mean…” Leigha read over the paper before sliding it back over to Y/N, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared down at the flyer, re-reading it for the fourth time before she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code to bring up the app.

“I can’t believe I am actually this desperate to try to literally purchase a date a week before Thanksgiving.” She muttered as she began to fill out her profile.

“Wait! Thanksgiving is next week? As in a week from today? I haven’t even made my Thanksgiving Pinterest board yet!” Leigha panicked and grabbed her face.

Y/N looked up from her phone and shook her head at Leigha’s antics “why do you need a Pinterest board? You literally do the same thing every single year.”

“Yeah…” Leigha jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, “but I want people to think that I am making all of these intricate and super cute appetizers and stuff. It’s the illusion that I care about!”

Y/N looked up and thanked the waitress as she set the food and coffee down in front of her before turning her attention back to Leigha who was eagerly biting into her scone.

“Help me answer these?” She passed her phone over to the girl and picked up the knife, spreading the strawberry preserves onto her croissant.

“Beach or Mountains?” Leigha readout with her mouth half full.

“Mountains!” Both girls yelled out at the same time and burst into giggles. They continued down the row of questions, passing the phone back and forth until Y/N finally hit the submit button. Leigha practically yanked the phone from Y/N’s hand as the algorithm began to shoot out potential matches. Her thumb scrolled through the pictures at lighting speed before she stopped and slowly scrolled back up before thrusting the phone in Y/N’s face.

“This one! Oh my god, this one! And if you don’t select the platinum package so that boy can say he loves you then I will literally never speak to you again!”

Y/N wiped the jam from her chin and grabbed the phone from Leigha. He was cute, there was no doubt about that but unlike Leigha, she cared about what his profile said about him. She scrolled through his pictures, one of him playing guitar, one hiking, one surrounded by friends around a campfire. Lover of nature, endless adventure, campfire songs, and sharing the love with my friends. I’ll jump if you jump, let’s take this plunge together?

She felt her lips curl up into a soft smile as she whispered his name to herself, liking the way that it rolled so easily off of her tongue.

“I told yooouuuu!” Leigha sang out and crossed her arms over her chest, a smug look on her face.

Y/N placed the phone on the table and tried to control the blush that she could fill rising to her cheeks, “calm down,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m paying for a Thanksgiving date, not falling in love.” She selected the platinum option and typed in her credit card number before clicking the purchase open without a second hesitation.

“I better be your maid of honor!” Leigha teased as the two girls dropped the appropriate amount of money onto the table and began to layer their coats and scarves back on. Y/N pulled the girl into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before heading back across the street towards her apartment.

She had just placed the keys back into her catch-all bowl by the door when her phone began to ding. She felt her heart begin to race as she saw the approval message on her screen that Charlie had accepted her request to rent him as her Thanksgiving date.

“Oh my god...okay...okay, this is fine...everything is fine.” She muttered to herself as she received another notification that Charlie had messaged her. She set her phone down on the counter and peeled her coat and scarf off before slipping her feet out of her boots. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and grabbed her phone, refusing to look at it until she had settled in on her couch. She crossed her feet under her and pulled a throw pillow to her chest before finally sliding up on the notification and reading the message that he sent.

Let's get to know each other? Lunch tomorrow?

Y/N hesitated for a moment before her fingertips began to slide across the keyboard on her screen.

Sounds good! How do you feel about chicken & waffles? I know a place!

She read over what she had sent several times, worried that she sounded too eager. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his response, watching as several dots appeared and disappeared several times on her screen before he finally sent his response.

A girl after my own heart! How is 12:30? Send me the address?

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his response and mentally reminded herself that he was just being kind and that she was quite literally paying for him.

500 Rue Kennedy Dieppe, NB. and 12:30 is perfect! I’ll see you then!

Y/N took a deep breath and closed the app before her thumb hovered over her mother’s contact. She quickly clicked on her number and quietly whispered to herself “please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer.”

“Thank god!” she exclaimed as the phone sent her to voicemail. She rolled her eyes at her mother’s elaborate message before finally being told to leave her message at the sound of the beep.

“Hi, mom...it’s me...I just wanted to let you know that you will need to make sure to set an extra place setting for thanksgiving. Love you.” She rattled off, keeping the message vague but to the point.

The following day Y/N stood inside of her closet staring at her assortment of clothes trying to decide what said “I'm cool and definitely not desperate even though I paid for a date for Thanksgiving because my family is insane.”

She pulled a mustard yellow cable knit sweater from a hanger and laid it out on her bed before heading back to her closet. Her fingers sorted through the variety of skirts before settling on a silky, pleated navy skirt that was cinched at the waist. She laid the skirt out next to the sweater before moving over to her vanity.

She sat on the poof chair and stared at her reflection for a brief moment before pulling the small drawer to the left open and lining up her primers, eye palette, eyeliner, mascara, and her signature red lipstick. She grabbed the mason jar that sat on the right tableside of the vanity and grabbed the appropriate brushes, lining those up as well.

She used her middle finger of her right hand to gently swipe the eyeshadow primer onto her eyelids before dusting the brush across a shimmery gold eyeshadow. She used a maroon eyeshadow on her crease and slowly blended the colors until she achieved a golden and subtle smokey eye.Y/N shook her hands out to steady her nerves before slowly pulling the liquid eyeliner across her eyelids and flicking it softly at the end for a subtle cat-eye before she carefully built volume on her eyelashes with the mascara. Finally, she grabbed the matte red lipstick and carefully swiped it across her lips before blotting them with a tissue.

Y/N jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand. She moved across the room and grabbed the phone from the charger.

See you soon!

She felt the nerves settle back into her stomach and wiped her clammy hands on her pajama pants before quickly undressing. She pulled the yellow cable knit sweater over her head, careful not to let it touch her face. She followed that by pulling on the pleated navy skirt, the fabric falling just above her knee. She pulled on the fabric of the sweater at her waist so that it slightly hung over the waistband of the skirt before she slipped her feet into a pair of black pointed flats. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and pulled her curls over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and slinging it across her body.

Y/N entered the bustling restaurant and let her eyes wander across the tables trying to find Charlie. She wrung her hands together and pulled her lips into a thin line when she didn’t see him, her heart dropping at the thought that she had been stood up or even worse, that she had really fallen for a scam. She turned on her left foot and reached for the door, barely pulling it open before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let go of the door, resulting in a soft thud as it closed.

“Y/N? You weren’t about to bail on me were you?” The soft voice teased as she turned around.

“I thought you had stood me up, actually.” She could feel the blush that dusted across her cheeks at the accusation. Her left hand fell to her right wrist, her fingers loosely wrapping around it as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes and offered an apologetic smile.

Charlie’s green eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched up as he laughed “take the money and run, I wish I would have thought of that!”

“Oh..” Y/N looked back at the door and then back towards Charlie, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s fi--”

Charlie smiled softly at her “I was just teasing, I didn’t want to sit at the table by myself in case you didn’t show and have to do the walk of shame, so I was at the bar.”

Charlie placed his right hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table in the middle of the bustling restaurant. He pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the menu, though she already knew what she was going to order. The waiter, a young kid, probably seventeen stopped by their table and quickly took their order.

Y/N finally looked up to find Charlie staring at her, his face cradled in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why a very beautiful girl would need to rent a date for a Holiday.”

Y/N felt herself blush at his compliment and shrugged her left shoulder “I got dumped.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry”

She smiled and waved him off “It’s no big deal, we wanted different things out of life. He wanted marriage and I,” she hesitated, she hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than Leigha.

“You what?”

“I want adventure and I know that sounds silly. Like, of course, you can have adventure and marriage but Noah,” she paused, “that’s my ex.”

Charlie nodded and gestured for her to continue, “Noah works in the financial district and he wanted marriage and kids and stability….and I barely know what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want for eternity.”

“You’re a free spirit, nothing wrong with that!” Charlie interjected and Y/N felt her first genuine smile of the night spread across her face.

“You get it.”

“I do get it.”

Y/N thanked the waiter as he sat down two beers along with their orders of chicken and waffles, before turning back to Charlie.

“So, tell me about your family. What should I prepare myself for?” Charlie lifted the pint glass to his lips and took a sip of the amber-colored beer.

‘Well,” Y/N blew air into her cheeks and sighed, “my mother thinks she’s Martha Stewart. So be sure to compliment the decor as soon as you see her. You’ll win her over for sure...and maybe don’t mention the whole free spirit thing or you will definitely end up on her list of terrible suitors that I have brought home.”

“Noted.” Charlie nodded before adding, “and your dad?”

“My dad is easy going, just talk about beer and hockey and you'll be fine.”

Charlie threw his head back in laughter and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way his whole face lit up when he laughed. She felt a flutter in her stomach as Charlie leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the table and his fingers lightly brushed across hers before he pulled back. Y/n pulled her hands off of the table and dropped them into her lap, her fingers lightly traced over the silky fabric of her skirt.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and rolled her bottom lip into her mouth before exhaling, “yeah, but I should probably tell you something,” she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes.

“Well, c’mon then..” Charlie teased after several seconds of silence.

“My folks don’t exactly know that Noah and I are….done...and I know there’s going to be a big event made of it when they find out.”

“Oof…” Charlie sighed and took a swig from his beer and a bite of his food.

Y/N felt her heart beating in her ears, “I understand if you, I mean if this is too much and you want to back out.”

Charlie looked at her with a playful smirk, “are you actually going to eat that or?” He pointed at her untouched plate of food with his fork.

“W-what?” Y/N looked down at her food and back up at Charlie before letting a smile slip onto her face. She didn’t understand how someone she had just met could put her nerves at ease without even trying.

Charlie let his fork clatter on his plate before leaning forward on his elbows. Y/N watched with furrowed brows as he grabbed the maple syrup and poured it in a circle over her chicken before he leaned back into his seat and met her eyes with a soft smile on his face.

Y/N picked up her fork and knife and cut into her maple drenched chicken before popping a small bite into her mouth, “are you happy now?” she teased Charlie before putting her fork back down.

Charlie tried to hold back the smile that threatened to take over his face as he nodded his head.

“So, what’s our story going to be? It’s gonna have to be a good one if I have to upstage Noah to win over your folks.”

The two spent the next hour concocting a believable, but very romantic story of how they met. They talked about their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits, and all of the little things that couples are supposed to know about each other,

Y/N felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as Charlie walked her to her car, his left hand just barely brushing against hers. She mentally scolded herself for feeling jittery over a guy that was simply fulfilling his job, but she also couldn’t help but hope that maybe he was feeling their connection too.

“I’ll pick you up next Wednesday at 4 pm, yeah?” Charlie asked as they arrived at her car. Y/n tucked her hair behind her right ear and nodded.

She felt her breath hitch as Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking backward and sending her a wave.

A week later and Y/N found herself pulling on a green sequined, long sleeve dress, the hem set just above her knees. It was her go-to holiday dress, classic but not too formal. She painted her face with gold eyeshadow, a sharp winged eyeliner, and her classic red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulders in cascading curls. She sat on her bed, fastening a pair of strappy black heels when her phone dinged. She fastened the buckles of her heels and grabbed her phone, a smile instantly sliding onto her face at Charlie letting her know he’d be at her place in five minutes.

She stood up and checked her appearance one final time before grabbing her gold clutch handbag and shoving her phone into it, just as Charlie knocked on her door. She quickly made her way to the front door and turned the lock before pulling the door open.

“Wow…” Charlie breathed out as she came into full view.

Y/N shyly smiled back at the boy, thankful that the blush she had on her cheeks already would mask the red glow that she could feel heating up her face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her eyes trailing from his brown wing toed shoes up to his pristine white button-up and finally to his slightly coiffed hair.

“Shall we?” Charlie extended his arm out to Y/N after she locked her door. She looped her right arm through his left, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as they made their way through the corridor and outside to Charlie’s car.

He opened the passenger side door for her and waited for her to get situated before closing the door and running around to the other side of the car. Their forty-minute drive was mostly silent as Y/N worked to calm her nerves down. She knew that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she showed up with Charlie in place of Noah and she was trying to memorize all of the details that they had agreed on a week prior.

“Are you okay?” Charlie glanced over at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road, his left hand took hold of the steering wheel as his right hand settled on her bare knee.

His hand was warm against her cold skin and Y/N wasn’t sure why but she found her left hand moving to settle on top of his hand. Without hesitation, Charlie flipped his hand over and let her palm fall into his before his fingers slid between hers and gently curled.

“Just nervous…”

Charlie lightly squeezed her hand before letting out a small chuckle “if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re the one about to meet my family.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, they’ll love you,” Y/N clarified,” I’m nervous about the terrible things that I know my mother is going to say to me about ending things with Noah.”

Charlie licked his lips as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. He pulled his right hand free from hers and put the car in park before turning slightly in his seat to face her.

“You know that nothing she says is going to be true, right? You don’t have to live by someone else's timeline for your life.”

Y/N pushed down the warming feeling in her heart and nodded her head at his words.

“Yeah, I know...are you ready?”

Charlie smiled brightly at her and pulled the keys from the ignition before getting out of the car. He double-stepped around the car to the passenger door and pulled it open for her, waiting for her to get out before closing the door.

He slid his left palm into her right hand and tangled their fingers together before placing a soft kiss on her hairline and whispered “let’s put on a show.”

Y/N could feel the nervous energy erupting in her stomach as they stood outside of her childhood home. She took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob and pushing the red front door open. They were met with the warm heat of the home and the smell of cinnamon as soon as they stepped inside. Charlie let his eyes wander across the walls of the entryway, scanning the line of pictures before tugging Y/N over to one.

“This is you, yeah?” The question was rhetorical as it had been obvious that it was her in the picture. She stood on a cliffside, at the top of a mountain with a bright smile on her face, her childhood dog, Rex, beside her and the ocean behind her.

“Yeah, I was seventeen and went backpacking by myself for the first time. My mom was so mad. This family that was passing by was kind enough to capture the moment for me and my dad insisted that it be hung on the wall of accomplishments…” Y/N rambled off the story before letting her eyes move from the picture and up to Charlie.

Charlie smiled down at her and laughed, “this is gonna sound insane, but I think that was my family that stopped and took the picture.”

Y/N pulled her brows forward so that her forehead was pinched in the middle “shut up! No it wasn’t!” she finally exclaimed.

“Rex….the dog’s name was Rex. I remember because I thought you were pretty and I got flustered and I said something dumb about Rex from Toy Story.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as Charlie recounted the story and she felt her cheeks growing red at the revelation “well, this is a weird twist in fate--”

She was cut off by the sound of her dad’s deep voice bellowing her name as he turned the corner. Charlie pulled her into his side and let his right-hand rest on her hip, while her right hand rested on his chest.

“Well, this certainly isn’t Noah!” Her father exclaimed a large smile on his face and his eyes soft. He had never been the biggest fan of Noah’s to begin with.

Charlie dropped his hand from her waist and stepped forward with it stretched out towards her dad, “Charlie Gillespie, sir.” He was taken aback when her dad threw his head back in laughter and pulled him in for a full bear hug.

“Nice to meet you, son”

Y/N giggled at her dad’s antics, he had always been the type to do things like that. He was a stout man with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had graying hair and a well-kept beard and he radiated kindness.

“And you, little missy, are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your mother.” Y/N pulled back from her dad's embrace and blew the air out of her cheeks.

“Yeah, I know…”

Her dad gently squeezed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the two to grab a beer from the kitchen.

“Why do I have the overwhelming feeling to call your dad pops and ask him over to mine to watch hockey?” Charlie joked.

Y/N shrugged and tangled her fingers with his, “I told you he was the easy one. Are you ready for the rest?”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

Y/N tugged on Charlie’s hand and he followed behind her as they made their way to the den where her brothers were corralled around and a card table, intense looks on each of their faces as they held their cards close to their bodies. Their wives were set on the opposite side of the room. Y/N could feel the three women’s eyes on her as she entered the room with Charlie and she knew their hushed whispers were aimed at her and the fact that Charlie was very much not Noah.

Her youngest brother, Josh, was the first of the three boys to look up and notice her. He dropped his cards on the table, face down, and scooted his chair back against the hardwood floors.

“Junebug!” He yelled as he practically launched himself towards her. Y/N exploded into a fit of giggles as her feet left the floor and he twirled her around in circles. Josh was three years younger than her, sitting at nineteen but she had always been the closest with him. Her giggles quieted down as he sat her back down and turned to Charlie.

“Well, you’re not Noah.” Josh quipped with a playful smirk on his face.

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and laughed “I have a feeling I am going to be getting that a lot today.”

“You play poker?” Josh eyeballed him.

“I know my way around a deck of cards, yeah.” Charlie shrugged.

Josh turned to Y/N and lightly punched her shoulder, “looks like you got yourself an upgrade, Junebug!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother and wished Charlie luck as he was pulled over to the table and introduced to her two older brothers, Samuel and Michael. She felt her shoulders relax for a moment as the table erupted with laughter from something Charlie had said. He looked up from his cards and shot her a wink before turning his attention back to the game at hand.

Y/N glanced back at Charlie one last time before making her way over to the prying eyes of Amy and Melissa, the wives of Samuel and Michael. The two women each held a mug of her mother’s homemade cider in their manicured hands.

“Who’s the cutie?” Amy was the first to speak, her left eyebrow raised as she asked the question.

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a moment with a smile before turning back around “Charlie…”

“Oh! Well, you’ve certainly never said Noah’s name like that before!” Melissa looked at Y/N with wide eyes.

Y/N shook her head at the two gossipy women “like what?’

Amy and Melissa both shot knowing looks to each other before Amy quipped, “sweetie, that boy’s name left your lips like honey falling from a spoon.”

“It did not!’

“You can deny it all you want, but we both heard it!” Melissa declared and brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of the warm cider.

“Looks like I’m out boys!” Y/N heard from the other side of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find Charlie laying his cards down on the table before he slid out of his chair. She smiled at him as he made his way over to her. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back into his chest, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Charlie, these are my sister-in-laws, Amy, and Melissa.”

“Very nice to meet both of you.” Charlie beamed at the two women.

Melissa and Amy stood up at the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen. Melissa made her way around Y/N and she gently squeezed Charlies’s bicep, “good luck honey.”

Charlie pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tightened his arms around her waist as he felt her body tense in his arms.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie reassured before loosening his grip on her and letting her grab his hand.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and gently pulled Charlie behind her as she navigated through the formal dining room and towards the kitchen where her mother was sure to be found.

She stopped just inside the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face Charlie, “you can still get out of this, ya know?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Charlie placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, nudging her into the kitchen while he followed.

Y/N stood silently for a minute as she watched her mother pull the green bean casserole from the oven and wipe her hands across her floral apron. Her mother was a thin woman with auburn hair that was almost always pulled into a chignon.

“Mom? Can I talk to you?” Y/N hesitantly asked, suddenly feeling less like a twenty-two year old woman and more like a twelve-year old child.

“What do you want to talk about, dear? Because if it’s about Noah,” her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the brown gravy that was simmering on the stove, “then I frankly don’t have time to listen to your childish reasons for ending the only good thing you had.”

“You know?” Y/N choked out

Her mother grabbed the pepper grinder and began to twist the top over another pot of food, “I called Noah after we spoke last week since you couldn’t give me a straight answer when I called you.”

“Oh…” Y/N placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and gently pushed him backward. Her eyes pleading with him to give her a minute. She didn’t want him to bear witness to the reprimanding she knew was about to come. Charlie hesitantly left her side and waited on the other side of the door.

Her mother finally turned around to face Y/N. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the tight grip.

“Honestly, y/n. I don’t know why you can’t get your life together. You graduated college just to throw away your education for this silly photography hobby of yours and now you threw away a perfectly acceptable relationship because you want to travel and have adventures? You’re not a child, anymore, y/n. When is this going to stop? When are you going to grow up?”

Y/N stood silently as the words washed over her. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“I…”

“What? You what, Y/N? What explanation could you possibly have this time?” Her mother cut her off.

Charlie pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on from the other side of the door and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. He felt her mother’s eyes on him as he quickly pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, his hand sliding across the middle of her back before he put on his best smile and made his way over to her mother.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Y/L/N. My mother would be insanely envious of the spread you’ve created, it’s magazine worthy!”

“Thank you, dear. You are much too kind! I am so sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

Y/N looked down at the floor and smiled to herself at the charm that Charlie exuded as he introduced himself to her mother and offered to help her bring the endless amounts of food to the formal dining room for her.

“I’ll go gather everyone.” Y/N shot an appreciative smile to Charlie before she made her way back to the den to gather the rest of the family into the dining room.

Y/N made her way over to the empty chair next to Charlie, the latter getting out of his own chair to pull her chair out for her before sitting back down. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and let his thumb rub circles on the top of her leg.

Her dad stood at the top of the table and carved the turkey while small talk was exchanged between her brothers and their wives and suddenly the question finally came from her mother.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Y/N glanced over at Charlie not sure if he was going to take the lead or not and was surprised when he started spitting out a story that was definitely not the one they had agreed on during their lunch meeting,

“I met your daughter several years ago on a hiking trip with my family,” Charlie paused and looked over at her before continuing, “my older brother, Patrick actually took that photo that you have on your wall in the entryway!”

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as Charlie squeezed her knee before turning his focus back to her mother “your daughter took my breath away that day and I kicked myself for weeks for not getting her number and just having this missed connection. I guess you could call it a twist of fate, really, that I found her again.”

Y/N’s mother smiled at the two of them and Y/N felt her body tense for just a moment before relief rushed over her at her mother’s words “that may be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Can we eat now or?” Josh hesitantly asked as he grabbed the plate of yams and began piling a portion onto his plate.

Y/N felt at ease for the rest of the evening as their shared meal went off without a hitch. Her family shared embarrassing stories of her with Charlie and she sipped glasses of wine as he endlessly complimented her. Her heart felt full as the night drew to a close and her dad pulled out the last Thanksgiving tradition. The wishbone was passed around the table until it landed in her hands. She turned to Charlie and gestured for him to grab the other end of the bone. They both tugged on the bone with their eyes closed until it snapped.

Y/N opened her eyes and looked down at the fractured bone in her hand and then over to Charlie who was holding the larger side.

“Make a wish,” she whispered to him with a soft smile on her face. Charlie shook his head and kissed her forehead.

“I don’t have to, I’ve got everything I want right here.”

Y/N dropped her eyes to the table and reminded herself that as much as she felt the connection between her and Charlie, that he was just playing a role.

She looked up as the sound of chairs sliding against the floor filled the room. She followed suit and slowly stood up from her chair.

“Do you need help, mom?”

“You go ahead and head out honey, I know you have a long drive.”

Y/N made her rounds of goodbye to her family before looking back at Charlie and grabbing his hand. They silently walked to his car and he opened the car door for her. Y/N hummed along to the songs that played on the radio during the drive back to her place. She tried to ignore the heat that she felt in her stomach as Charlie’s thumb ran across her knuckles every now and then. She watched the cars that passed by them, red tail lights lighting up her face as they drove on the highway. Before she knew it they were parked outside of her apartment.

“I guess this is it then…” Charlie looked over at Y/N as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“I guess so.” Y/N agreed, her right hand rested on the door handle as she looked at Charlie, her eyes searching for any indication that he didn’t want her to leave. She let her hand pull on the door handle when Charlie didn’t respond.

She swung the car door open and stepped out into the street before making her way to the sidewalk. She turned around at the sound of another car door shutting and was taken aback by Charlie running over to her side

“I should walk you to your door,” Charlie answered the silent question

Y/N smiled and led the way through the apartment corridor until they stood outside of her door, her keys dangling in her left hand. She looked up at Charlie and smiled, “you didn’t have to see me inside, ya know?”

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and shrugged, “all part of the job.”

Y/N felt her smile falter and turned around to place the key into the lock of her apartment door. She quickly turned the key and opened the door before stepping inside. She turned to look at Charlie one last time, “well, thank you for giving me my money’s worth,” she let her eyes fall from his.

“Goodbye, Charlie.” She closed the door and dropped her keys into the catch-all bowl before kicking her heels off and making her way over to the couch. She let her body slump into the soft cushions and pulled her phone out to call the only person that was going to understand.

“Tell me everything!” Leigha demanded as soon as her face appeared on the phone.

‘Well,” Y/N sighed, “I think I accidentally started to fall in love with him.”

Leigha couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that erupted from her small frame “I knew this was going to happen! I so called this!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her best friend and poked her bottom lip out in a pout “it’s not funny Lee...I’m never gonna see him again and now I have all of these feelings to deal with.”

“You don’t know that!” Leigha argued

“I appreciate that you’re a hopeless romantic, Lee, but I was nothing but a paying customer to him...he basically said so himself.” Y/N frowned, thinking back to Charlie’s words as he walked her to her door.

“Oh...hun, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N let a sad smile slip onto her face, “I’m gonna go to bed, coffee tomorrow morning?”

Y/N hung her phone up and pulled herself up from the couch. She shuffled through the apartment until she reached her room and slowly peeled the sequined dress from her body. She made her way to the vanity and grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly removed the makeup from her face before she crawled into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body.

It was 8 am when Y/N was pulled from her slumber by her phone blaring the ringtone that Leigha insisted she set for herself. She rolled over with her eyes still closed and fumbled around for her phone before slowly cracking her eyes to hit the green button.

“What?” Y/N grumpily answered

“Don’t what me!” Leigha chastised, “there’s a cute boy at the cafe and he just ordered your order! Like to the T!”

Y/N set up in her bed and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away in small circles.

“Ok? And?”

“AND?! AND!!! His name is Charlie! I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed and make yourself look decent, I will literally kill you!”

Y/N dropped her phone onto her bed and pulled the covers back. She quickly made her way to her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her messy bed head, her curls tangling together between her fingers.

“Shit..okay….okay…” She muttered to herself and opted to twist her hair up into a top knot. She secured it with a hair tie and ran back to her room where she threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized jumper. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she heard a knock on her door.

She wiped her hands on her leggings and quickly made her way to her front door. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before reaching forward to unlock the door. Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. Stood on the other side was Charlie with a small brown bag and a hot coffee extended out to her.

Y/N stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing Charlie to come in.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she took the bag and coffee from his hands. She sat the bag on the counter and pulled the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She hummed to herself as the warm liquid slid down her throat.

Charlie stepped forward and hesitantly took the drink from her hands, setting it on the counter behind her. Y/N watched anxiously as Charlie’s eyes moved across her face, flickering between her eyes and lips several times before he lifted his hands and placed one on her right cheek while the other cradled her neck.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Charlie whispered into the space between them before catching her lips with his. Charlie pulled away before Y/N had a chance to react, his face glowing red as he held his bottom teeth between his top two teeth.

“Is this free of charge?” Y/N joked as she placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and leaned forward, bringing her lips back to his.

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @n0wornever @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms fanfic #luke patterson fanfic

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egyptsblackrose · 4 years ago

Text

Dancing with Strangers

There will be one more part to this story after this then I think this story is complete. I have other projects in the works and other passions I want to devote some time to. Hope your all doing well and please enjoy.

No actual smut in this one, but reference to intimacy probably still 18+ though so minors please do not read

Part 4- https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/652018121062989824/dancing-with-strangers-more-filth-for-this-story

Part 5-

Your senses slowly brought you out of your peaceful, heavy slumber, though your mind was not ready to open your eyes just yet. First thing you felt was comfort, soft, warm, heavy sheets keeping you safe and cozy. When you focused more, however, you realised that part of your arm that was not in your little cocoon, was radiating the kind of heat only the sunlight could bring. So it was clearly day time, maybe even afternoon. No matter, you did’t have any classes today, that was why you agreed to going out to the clubs with your friends.

Your friends… You gasped and sat up with a jolt, only to groan and hiss. Rubbing your lower stomach and back.

Oh… right… you had gone home with not just one but TWO strangers and had a THREESOME!

Your cheeks set on fire as the events of last night played out in your head. The pleasure, the desire. More had happened after they had each taken a turn with you. Kakashi had been painfully hard again watching your brains get fucked out by Gojo, so you had rolled over and sucked him off lazily, taking your time to tease. That had lead to the boys getting revenge, Satoru holding your hands hostage as he fucked your mouth, while Hatake ravaged you again, harder and more forceful till you squirted for him as well.

Then you had been carried to the shower, Kakashi tenderly, lovingly holding you bridal style in the walk in shower as Gojo massaged your entire body with wonderful smelling shower gel. Only your moans had turned the men on again. Gojo took you this time, having you pressed against the wall with him on his knees, Hatake standing and receiving another blow job from you. Kakashi had to wash your face and hair when he tried to pull out too late, but you had been quick to defend him when Satoru’s teasing went too far.

By the time you were all dried, your legs had stopped working and you could barely keep your eyes open, the sun was peaking through the curtains gently to hint as the beginning of sunrise, and you all settled into bed. Never before had you been so comfortable, resting your head against someone’s chest while being spooned from behind, wearing a really comfy large hoodie and boxer shorts for bed while the two men only wore old shorts.

But glancing around at the bed, you found your companions gone and the bed cold. Nibbling on your bottom lip in thought, you quickly did a body check. Toes were wiggling; but it took effort and there was still a little pain, your stomach felt a little uncomfortable and sore but nothing you couldn’t handle. You smelled good- to your relief- though you needed to brush your teeth immediately. Your hair felt smooth and smelled great as well, your make up had clearly been removed, your cloths were at the end of the bed; freshly washed and folded.

You had clearly been well taken care of, their after care game was obviously on par with their A game. And yet the niggling doubt set into your mind.

Why take such good care of you and then leave you alone? And there was no sounds in the whole apartment from what you could hear. Had they left? There was no note from what you could see. Maybe they’d gone out or to work and hoped you’d be gone by the time they got back. Why else leave your cloths close by, in obvious view and clean to wear. This was their hint to get out. They’d had their fun, so had you, now it was time to leave.

The thought made you a lot sadder than you would like to admit. But then again, the two men were clearly experienced, your friends had even said so last night, that’s why they encouraged you to go through with it. You were not the first girl they did this too, and chances are you weren’t the last. How many other girls out there had woken up exactly like this? With a pout and painful groan, you slipped out of bed and started getting changed on wobbly legs.

This was for the best anyway, you told yourself. They were policemen, they were successful men, there was TWO of them. And you were just a Uni student, you weren’t even half way through your final year, you had yet to successfully land an interview. You didn’t even know if you wanted to stay in Japan after you graduated, if you wanted to graduate here or go back home to your family… There was still so much you needed to figure out, you were just beginning. And successful men like that would want a successful woman, or women rather.

Once presentable, borrowing some mouth wash from the bathroom seen as you did not have your own toothbrush, you took a few deep breaths to sike yourself up. The fact that not just one, but TWO god level men had chosen you to spend the night with them meant something, even if it was short lived. THEY had picked YOU, called you beautiful, whispered sweet nothings into your ear, taken care of you. And now it would be a nice memory, and you could wear this win like a badge of honour as you leave. Just think of how many women would kill to be you.

Opening the bedroom door, your heart sank a little more at not seeing even one of the handsome men. A little part of you had hoped that maybe they were up, and that little part of you made your eyes scan the living room and kitchen desperately for a note or a sign that you hadn’t been left behind. But all you found was a clock above the cooker that read 10:20 am.

Hu… earlier than you thought, but not an unpleasant surprise.

Thankfully the door was unlock-able from the inside, but you weren’t sure about the elevator, seen as they had used a key card to activate it last night. It seemed luck was on your side, however, because pressing the down button meant the elevator was automatically called to you, opened, and a frigging bell boy was waiting with a smile and a polite nod. How rich are these guys?!

“Ground floor Miss?” The young man asked. You nodded numbly, stepping in and moved to the back of the elevator. It seemed the new face could tell you didn’t want to talk, so the journey down was gratefully a silent one as you stared at the floor. How many young women has this man escorted down and out of the building for these two men?

You frowned at yourself. Why were you so hung up on that? You had no right to the answer and no right to even ask the question. They weren’t yours. You weren’t theirs. And it didn’t even matter. But you couldn’t free yourself from the feeling of being used.

Raising your head at the ding, as soon as the doors started opening you dashed out, wanting to quickly get away from this place and move on. The quicker this…mind blowing experience became a fond memory, the better.

Following your memory from last night of being in the taxi, you knew that you had passed your street on the way, and it didn’t seem like such a long ways away. You started walking without hesitation, head down as you messaged your friends that you were on the way home. They replied excitedly, clearly wanting to talk about the events of last night, but you quickly shut them down. Miku seemed to get the hint immediately that you weren’t feeling like yourself and something was wrong, promising movies and home made goodies from her mum who was visiting.

The thought made you smile. Miku and Sakura’s parents had basically adopted you as soon as you got back to Japan, all four insisting on introducing you to as many of their friends and neighbours as possible, promising you and your worried parents that they were only a call away. Miku’s mother was particularly affectionate, a little unusual for Japanese culture, but she often cured your home sickness with gentle hugs and head pats, pinching your cheeks and promising a nice warm home cooked meal and a few wise words. And such parental affections was too good to pass up right now.

Raising your head with slightly watery eyes, you quickened your pace. Only for your wrist to be grabbed in a unyielding hold.

“Y/N!”

“Beautiful?”

The voices made to freeze, eyes widening as you slowly turned and gasped. It was them.

“Kakashi? Gojo?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper from how surprised you were.

“Baby, why are you leaving already?” Hatake asked worriedly, frown in place.

Satoru wagged a disapproving figure at you. “I thought I said we were staying in bed today to have fun.”

“But…” Swallowing thickly, you turned more towards them, wide eyed and confused. “I woke up in bed alone, you were both gone, my cloths were clean and folded beside me…I thought you wanted to me to go…”

“What?!” Gojo yelled in an exaggerated tone, quickly moving to wrap his arms around you from behind and rubbing his face into your hair. “What a silly little head our beautiful girl has Kakashi!”

“Y/N…” Hatake soothed quickly, seeing you frown at Gojo. “Baby I wasn’t there when you woke up because I left to do a little shop of things me and Gojo were out of, and also pick you up a toothbrush for when you woke up. And our idiot here wasn’t with you because I sent him to pick up some breakfast for us all. You said at the club that your favourite thing to wake up to was _____, so we thought we’d treat you. We both went so we could be back as fast as possible, we didn’t think you would wake up so soon, let alone think we wanted you to go. So imagine our surprise when we pull into our usual parking spot across the street and see a figure and outfit all to familiar walking away from us? We were worried you decided that YOU wanted to go.”

The words sunk in slowly and made your eyes water more, especially when you heard Kakashi use the term ‘OUR idiot’ when referring to Gojo. He was including you in their bond. “So… you weren’t trying to give me the hint to leave so you wouldn’t have to see me?”

“Beautiful, are you stupid?” Kakashi sent a glare to Gojo, but the other white haired male continued. “Last night was amazing, and I said that this was the beginning. Do I seem the type to lie to you beautiful? I don’t just say that to anyone, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever said it before. Me and Kakashi want to do so much more to you, with you, and not just in the bedroom…and not just sexual things either.”

The clear implication and teasing was not lost on you, making your cheeks light up a rosy pink. Hatake chuckled sweetly, stroking your cheek as he stepped a little closer. “There’s that blush we love. Y/N, I won’t lie to you. We have had one night stands before, we have had times where we either take the girl home or ask her personally to leave, but neither me or Gojo want this to be one of those times. We don’t want a one night stand with you, your different, special. We actually like you, as a person, and we’d like to see if this…if WE could be something.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. Where…where they SERIOUS? These beautiful, amazing men wanted you in their lives? “But why?”

Kakashi frowned. “Why?”

“Yeah. Why? Why me?”

Gojo chuckled, nuzzling your neck to draw your attention back to him. “Because Kakashi’s right, your different. Most women are flirty with us cause they want some fun. YOU were flirty with us cause WE were fun. You listened to us, you didn’t try to be something or someone your not, you were very real. And the real you is awesome. And we want to know that real you more.”

“Y/N,” Hatake’s hand, that was still on your wrist, moved down to take your hand, stroking the back of it soothingly. “Gojo and I have a strange relationship, we know that. We are more like brothers than friends, and there’s never been any attraction between us. But we have only ever had a functioning, healthy relationship when the two of us put in the effort. We are not perfect, but together we are. And for a long time we have looked for someone who can complete us, who can make us both happy. It’s too early to tell if that’s you, but surely even you had to feel how RIGHT everything felt last night.”

Flashes of charming smiles from the club took over your mind, how easy the flow of conversation was, how natural it felt to have both their hands on you. You had been saddened so much to think that something so good was already over. But here they were, telling you it didn’t have to be. Looking into those amazing dark grey and blue eyes of the two white haired men, you could see how they desperately did not want you to go.

“Ok… we can see where this goes. But, I want to try do this properly, and I want this to be open between the three of us.” Both men looked at each other in confusion, so you continued. “If something happened with just one of you while the other is away, I don’t want it causing fights, I also want to spend time with you, and not just doing…intimate stuff. Dates, together as a three or just as a duo, actually getting to know one another, honesty, proper communication. All of it.” You said firmly. “When I devote myself to a relationship, I do it whole heartedly, and I expect the same from my partner. Just because there’s two of you, doesn’t mean you can put in half the effort. I’m mostly looking at you Satoru.”

The blue eyed man gasped on horror, hand over his heart like it was clutching a fatal wound. “Beautiful, you think I wont treat you like a princess?”

“I don’t want to be treat like a princess.” You shot back firmly, but smiled softly. “I want you to treat me as your equal, like your friend, like your partner, because to me, that’s what a relationship is. I don’t want to be babied or spoilt, I just want to be treat fairly and honestly. And if I find out either of you cheated on me…just remember that BOTH my parents are amazing lawyers and I have another country I can easily move to.” The three of you laughed easily, smiling at each other with warm smiles as you each earliest that this was the start of something. Something beautiful.

Part 6- https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/655347185273241600/dancing-with-strangers-this-is-by-far-the-longest

#y/n #you #my own work #gojo #Satoru #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #Kakashi #Hatake #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #kakashi hakate #trader #selfinsert

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