#you will never make me stop using a space before a double punctuation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghost-ghost-baby · 4 years ago

Text

Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)

An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!

An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!

Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)

Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-

Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)

You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.

“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.

“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.

“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.

“Hey-”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-

“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.

“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.

“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”

“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-

“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.

“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.

“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.

“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.

“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”

“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.

You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…

“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.

“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.

“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.

“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.

“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.

Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.

“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”

“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.

The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.

“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-

“Katsuki? Are you oka-“

“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.

“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”

“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.

“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.

“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”

“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.

“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”

“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.

You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-

“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.

“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”

“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.

“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.

“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.

“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.

“Oh my god- is that from-”

“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.

“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”

The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!

Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.

“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”

“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.

“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.

“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-

“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.

“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.

“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.

“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-

You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.

“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.

“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.

“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.

#bnha #Bakugo x reader #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #bnha x reader #omega Bakugo #alpha reader #reader insert #omegaverse imagine #bnha imagine

586 notes · View notes

kimnjss · 4 years ago

Text

"feels good, tiny?” | kth

⤑ series: kinda hot

⤑ pairing: campus flirt!taehyung x sweet girl!reader

⤑ genre: smut.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 1.7K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: cursing, subtle dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, slight size kink, deep throat, riding, multiple orgasms, scratching... drooling and mentions of spit, cock warming, cum inside.

⤑ A/N: this is long overdo... nd i highkey forgot abt it that why. buut this happens like after she sends him that picture that was actually meant for him ., so yeah - enjoy !! let me know what you think x

you're making such a mess. drool and precum pooling around the corners of your mouth. sharp nails digging into the skin of his thighs as the head of his cock brushes against the back of your mouth. it drives him insane how nicely he slides down your tight little throat. jaw straining to take all of them, but even still you're only able to swallow about half. lips wrapped song around his shaft.

a breathy groan falls from his lips as your teary eyes lift to look at him. mascara smudged down your cheeks and hair knotted from the grip he held in your hair. you looked so sexy when he had first entered your house. although, the way you looked now was a whole different level of sexy.

but when he first walked in, you had been laid sprawled out on your bed. nothing but that flimsy set of lace covering the best parts of you. he could see your hard nipples peeking through the fabric as well as the wet patch staining between your legs. he was climbing on the bed without a second thought, his hand slotting itself between your legs.

you moaned so pretty when his fingers began to rub against your slit, further spreading your wetness over your underwear. he about loses it when your lip latch onto his earlobe, tongue gliding over the edge of it. whispering in the most sultry voice he's ever heard from you. “please, let me suck you off,”

and that's how you've ended up right where you're are now.

with a hand wrapped around his base, taehyung is pulling his cock from your throat. strings of saliva connecting him to your lips. you greedily take to filling your lungs with oxygen, chest heaving up and down. his dark eyes zero in on how swollen your lips are and he can't help but tap his cock on them.

once and then twice, continuously lifting and dropping his dick on your face. amazed with his length compared to your face. the little kitten licks you swipe against the underside of him has a shiver running down his spine. his cock rests from your chin to just above your forehead, his head reaching to tangle in your hair. he's heavy against your face, salty on your tongue.

slowly being lowered until your mouth is meeting the velvety skin on his balls. he doesn't need to tell you what he wants next. easily sucking both of them in as your hand lifts to cover his shaft. “baby, fuck.” he groans, head tilting back as you jerk him. holding his weight on his hands planted behind him, he watches you over his nose through hooded eyes.

he spots the way your hand slides down the front of your body, fingers dipping underneath the waistband of your panties. your hips grind into your palm, moving in time with your hand on him. thumb swiveling over the tip of it, forcing a low grunt from the back of his throat. the soft moans that leave your lips tickle his skin, adding to the pleasure your mouth and hands are already giving him. it's no surprise when he's feeling the cave in his stomach, cock twitching in your palm.

he's whining, both hands reaching to push his hair back as the warmth of your mouth engulfs his cock again. taking your time with pushing his cock down your throat. and then you're swallowing, sending a shock of arousal throughout his body. “holy fuck...” you hallow your cheeks, the suction of your lips filling the room and causing him to shoot up.

large hands gripping your hair at the root, holding your head steady as he fucks his hips forward. slowly, experimentally at first, but then he's quickly losing himself in the warmth of your mouth. the wetness that drips around him, big watery eyes staring at him as your nails scrape against the skin of his thighs.

“swallow it all for me. okay, princess?” that's as much warning you get before thick spurts of cum are trickling down your throat, paired with a low grunt from him. tae's holding your head in place, hooded eyes watching the faint bulge in your throat that can only be caused by his cock. he pulls back only when you start to gargle around him, filling your mouth with the rest of his seed before his wet cock falls from your lips completely.

he forces his eyes to keep from shutting just so he can watch the greedy way you push his misplaced cum into your mouth. licking your lips and fingers clean like you've just finished a five-course meal. a lazy grin spreads across his features when you flash him your empty mouth.

there's only a bit of an ache in your legs as you rise from your knees, but you ignore it as you move to straddle his waist. half-hard cock nudging against the apex of your thighs when you lean forward to press your hands into his chest. “don't fall asleep on me,” your lips are inches from his ear but he can hear your pout.

soft tongue pushing out to glide over the edge of it as your fingers brush over his erect nipples. he was far from tired, just needed a few moments to catch his breath. even still, he was never the type to leave you hanging. especially, after you just quite literally sucked the soul out of him. you deserved a little something in return.

the movement of his fingers is slow, but it's not long before he's fitting his hand underneath the fabric of your panties. two fingers effortlessly sliding past your walls. you hadn't noticed it before, but in the midst of getting him off and the half-assed way you were fingering yourself, you managed a baby orgasm. he could tell with the way your walls quivered around his fingers with each thrust.

much whinier in the way you call out his name, legs flinching when he presses his thumb into your clit. “sensitive,” he notes, then ignores his only words by pushing into you with much more force. pace fast enough to rock your body, arousal dripping out around his fingers. long fingers reaching deep inside of you and pressing into your gspot with each thrust.

you're cumming with a broken cry, nails digging into the skin. though, your vision's blurry, you can still see the mischievous glint in his eyes. the deliberate way he moves his fingers inside of you and just as you're putting two and two together, his hand is gripping your waist, keeping you from running from his fingers.

it's a loud scream of his name that punctuates the stream that rips through your body, soaking his lower stomach and dripping onto his pubic bone. little black dots spot your vision, a new wetness surrounding your eyes.

but that doesn't stop you from pushing your fingers into his hair, hips desperately grinding against his. “more, more.” you pant. can only imagine how pathetic you look in front of him. messy hair, smudged makeup, face, and body damp with a mixture of cum, sweat, and tears... begging to be fucked.

he thinks you look and sound hot. the quick way his cock stiffens against being an indicator of that. with his eyes glued to your features, taehyung makes a mental note on the way you look as he pushes his cock into you. saving it among his many favorites when it comes to you.

“ride me,” delirious enough that you're moving with a second thought, would most likely follow him over the edge of a cliff if he asked. hips rolling and bouncing on his as your nails carve thin lines into his skin. “fuck. your pussy just swallows me right up.” the comment has a wave of pride washing over you, working harder to prove him right.

one hand lays lazily on your hip, but you're doing most of the work. sat up on your knees to make it easier to swivel your hips. angling yourself so each thrust has his sensitive head hitting against your even more sensitive inner.

he finds it amusing. the spaced-out look on your face as you use him. soft moans filling the air, arm lifted to keep your hair from falling in your face. you're barely focused on him, eyes fluttering and teeth cutting into your lower lip. “feels good, tiny?” proving him right with the way you startle at the sound of his voice. dark eyes working to focus on him again. “so good, tae.” he can feel your pussy clenching around him, the tremble of your thighs. he's snaking his hand around your hips up the length of your back, applying enough pressure until your chest is falling onto his. the cry you let out landing against his neck as he lifts his hips up.

taking control to fuck into you roughly, holding your body in place with a thick arm around your back. he moves his cock mercilessly, driving the both of you to completion within minutes. you're first, of course, walls spasming around him as incoherent sentences leave your lips. something along the lines of how much you love him and how good he was to you. nothing new.

he only gets faster and more determined after that, bringing himself to release with the help of the sloppy kisses you land on his neck and the untimed push of your hips. filling you to the brim with his cum and holding it there, not bothering to pull out as he'd usually rush to do with the intention of helping you clean off.

not since he was finding out just how much you liked when he took his time. letting his cock go soft deep inside of you, the mixture of both of your arousal warming your core. taehyung is easily flipping your bodies around, slipping deeper inside of you with the movement.

the prettiest smile he's ever seen in his life is on your lips and he can't help but lean down to kiss it. you're giggling against his mouth, arms lifting to wrap around his neck while your legs do the same around his waist.

“i love you,” a double confession and neither of you are sure who spoke first. not like it truly mattered. the three words didn't seem like enough to cover how you both felt. how you've always felt, so you're going in for another kiss.

#taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #🔥 sm au #taehyung fic #taehyung sm au #taehyung imagine #taehyung angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts sm au

1K notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

Text

“Corn Syrup, Like in Carrie” | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey my lovelies this is my fic for @hellotvshowtrash ‘s March Prompt Challenge— I hope you all enjoy and especially you, Ash! I literally wrote this in a few hours so I hope it isn’t terrible; I wanted to make sure I actually submitted this month though because you put a lot of hard work into making fun things for us. I haven’t written for these boys in a while so this was nice :)

Description: Y/n drags Kol into a plan that is more dumb luck than actual planning— is it even a question that he would be willing to help?

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and death but in a casual, funny way (sadistic but funny), this might be the grungiest thing I’ve written to date

Word count: 1.99k (it’s literally 1999k, I pushed this as far as possible)

Tags: Fluff, a lil angst if you squint (squint is used loosely here)

Prompt: “This plan of yours is going to get us killed. Of course I’m in.”

Kudos if you get the picture easter egg!

“You want to do what now?”

She huffs but the wicked smile on her face carves through the annoyance— of course she isn’t actually exasperated with him.

“You heard me Kol— I want to scare him!”

The brown eyed vamp rolls his eyes but his own grin is just as cunning. She can see the spark in his eyes, that little glint that lets her know everything she needs to know— lets her know that he’s in.

All in.

“You know that’s impossible darling,” he toys, his smirk too coy for a man over a thousand years old. “Klaus doesn’t get scared.”

She laughs— that’s what he thinks.

Kol’s brows push together, the glint growing alongside his smile, his sharp teeth poking into his lip. “I know that look— that look is never good.”

She meets him where he leans against the countertop, hopping up beside him and wrapping her arms around his cool shoulders. “Oh it’s good alright, Kol-y. I think you’ll like it very much.”

He turns towards her, running his nose across her jaw, peppering a few kisses against her skin before tilting his face up. “Well out with it then, darling— what’s the plan?”

She giggles, pressing her lips against his quickly before pulling back, pecking the vampire’s nose when he scrunches it. She shakes her head at his puppy dog eyes— easily distracted, that one is.

She leans down, whispering her idea into his ear, her chest blossoming with warmth when he shivers against her lips. She can’t tell if it’s because of how close she is or because he likes her plan— both, most likely. When she finishes speaking she nips his ear, tugging gently before releasing him. He groans when his ear meets the cool kitchen air, twisting to push between her legs.

He leans down, pressing his lips against her again. She can taste the mischief on his lips, tangy and sharp— someone has been eating blackberries again.

“You’re a menace darling.”

“Hmm—” she hums her agreement against his berry lips— “I learned from the best.”

He chuckles and this time she shivers, his lips trailing down her neck. “Is that so?”

She pushes against his chest, trying to regain some of his attention. This is important. She slips her fingers into his soft hair, knitting them between the strands and tugging until his baby browns meet her gaze. He sighs, his smile less menacing and more longing than moments ago. He raises his brow, his eyes flitting to her neck before going back to her eyes— are you going to speak or can I go back to what I was doing?

She huffs.

“Are you in or not, Mikaelson?” She grinds out as he tugs against her hand, just barely nipping at her sensitive skin.

He groans when she pulls her throat away from his ministrations, finally standing straight again. His hands slide up the sides of her neck, smoothing against her jaw, fingers hooking behind her ears.

“This plan of yours is going to get us killed, darling.” His soft grin sharpens as he speaks, the glint resurfacing in his eyes. To her it makes him look beautiful. It makes him look dangerous. “Of course I’m in.”

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

“Alright,” Kol announces, his cheerful voice drifting from the entrance to the compound to where she lays in a heap next to the couch. “He’s coming down the street now— I can hear him on the phone. I think he’s talking to Elijah.”

She can’t see the vamp but she knows that the mirth in his voice is much too extensive considering what they are about to do. Oh well. She raises a hand— she can’t speak with the blonde who’s now on their street hearing— signalling for him to get into place—

—and for him to dump the bucket of corn syrup, red dye number five, and just enough of her blood to make it smell real all over her body.

It goes on warm and sticky, scarily similar to actual blood, drenching the t-shirt she has decided to sacrifice. It’s for a good cause, she has to remind herself. Her skin itches where the mixture clings to her and she has to keep from giggling, her shoulders shaking. This had better work.

Kol’s boot nudges against her butt, tsking as she swallows another giggle. “Get with it darling— he’s almost here.”

She nods, splaying her limbs out in a way she imagines a dead— or almost dead— body would look. She doesn’t have to imagine too hard.

“Good job,” Kol whispers. “Billy Loomis would be proud.”

She smiles quickly at the reference— part of her plan was making him watch Scream with her.

“He’s here— let’s do this—“

The end of his sentence is cut off by a yell— his yell. They have to cover the sound of her heartbeat somehow. She can only keep her heart so steady and she’s not trying to give herself away before the fun has really begun. Thank heaven Kol has a good pair of lungs— and that he doesn’t need to breathe.

“Yeah I just go ba— Kol?” Like with Kol, she can’t see Klaus but she can hear him and the way his voice falters in confusion.

“Brother—” the way Kol’s voice hitches at the end of the word makes her almost break character. Someone sign this man up for an Oscar immediately— “I don’t know what happened. I left to get some of that ice cream she’s always talking about and— and—”

Klaus doesn’t speak but over Kol’s scarily astute acting she can hear commotion on the other end of his cellphone. Elijah— jackpot.

A double prank.

“Elijah give me a minute— Kol, what happened?”

Klaus’ heavy boots thunk against the concrete, the vibrations radiating through her cheek where it presses against the ground. His steps are almost as thundering as his voice, both echoing through the open space.

Kol plays along with his brother’s anger, matching it with his own. “I just said I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know! Look at her and tell me what you see—” his words stop, the air punctuated by a loud crack, no doubt the sound of his Iphone shattering into a hundred pieces.

Oops.

Suddenly there are hands on her back, nudging her softly, pulling at the sticky fabric of her t-shirt. You’re going to have to do better than that to wake the dead, babe. His hands get steadily more frantic— and more slimy— dragging the blood concoction into her hair as he checks her scalp and neck for injury. She holds her breath as his hand wraps around her jaw, lifting her face gently.

“Fuck, Kol, why is she bleeding so much?”

Kol only screeches in answer— again, she almost loses it. Klaus must not like that answer very much because he curses under his breath. Well, under his breath is a relative term. She is sure the entirety of Bourbon street hears the F-bomb he drops. The word is accompanied by the sound of her shirt being ripped in two. Here we go.

She feels a whoosh of air against her now revealed skin, steeling against the shiver that creeps up her spine at the cold air. Soon there is another pair of hands on her, sliding down her slick arms. She can picture the dyed corn syrup staining Elijah's dress shirt and the glare in his dark eyes when he realizes she has teamed up with his brother to wreak mayhem.

“What’s going on? What happened?” His sultry voice is worse than the cold air— and much harder to stave off.

“I don’t know—” both Klaus and Kol speak in unison, Klaus taking over for the both of them— “but there isn’t time to find out right now.”

Before she has time to process his words her body is being flipped over, her back pressing into the icy, sticky concrete. It takes all of her strength not to squeal at the contact. She hears a noise much too juicy for her liking before a warm artery is pressed against the seam of her lips. Perfect!

“C’mon love, please—”

When her mouth fills with a thick, metallic substance she breaks, springing forward and coughing wildly, making sure to swallow a good amount before hacking the rest up. She runs an arm across her eyelids, trying to unstick them but only managing to coat her eyelashes even more.

When she finally manages to peel her eyes open, spitting the last of Klaus’ blood out of her mouth, she is met with the faces of two shocked vampires and one vampire who is laughing his ass off. Kol’s laughter is infectious— especially because she’s been holding back giggles since the start of their ruse— and soon she is joining him, laughing so hard she falls backwards again into the goo.

For a moment there is silence— only the sound of her and Kol’s laughter— before it gives way to Klaus’ deathly calm voice. “What the hell is going on here?”

She pushes herself up on an elbow, flashing him a scarlet drenched smile— she would give anything to see her crimson teeth right now. She runs her tongue over them to enhance the point.

“Did I scare you?”

His eyes flash with black. “Did you scare me—”

“Yes, you scared us!” Elijah’s red hands wrap around her forearms, hauling her into his chest without a care for his white shirt. “May I ask why?”

Elijah’s chest shudders, his arms curling around her waist. He wasn’t lying— he’s terrified. He smells like cooking oil and metal but she doesn’t care— he’s too warm for her to mind. His lips press against her forehead and she almost feels bad.

Almost.

A hand wraps around her hair from behind, yanking her back from his brother’s chest. “What Elijah means to say is can we demand why? Why you would try something like that?”

She dips her head further back, squinting up at the furious blonde. “Oh you already know why, love.”

He rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched but leaning down to brush his cheek against hers regardless. “Indulge me anyway.”

She tilts her head, skimming her tacky lips against his stubble. “To make a point.”

“Oh yeah? And what point might that be?”

“That I am fragile—” she pulls upright, turning in Elijah’s arms and dropping the cheshire grin— “that you can’t protect me all the time—” she pushes forward, crawling onto Klaus’ drenched lap— “that I need to be like you.”

He sighs, his forehead dropping against hers, his hands curling around her jaw. “This again?”

Her arms hook around his neck, fingers tangling in his blonde hair. “You know I’m right.”

Klaus’ shoulders slump, his golden eyebrows knitting together. “Does it have to be right now?”

“Your blood is already in my system.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

She smiles back at him, leaning in for what she hopes is one last human kiss. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

He only sighs, shaking his head as Kol laces his fingers with hers. She turns to the brown eyed vamp just in time to see him pass her a mischievous wink.

It is the last thing she sees before the world around her goes dark.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

She wakes feeling significantly less sticky than she had when she blacked out— and significantly more hungry. She can’t remember the last time her throat was dry like this. Is she catching a cold? She shifts slightly, her elbow piling into a pillow underneath her. The pillow grunts.

Not a pillow.

Kol rises beside her, pressing a hand to her chest until she falls back against the mattress and then rolling on top of her, sinking his face against her neck. The words he mumbles into her skin make her dead heart stop in the best way.

“I told you that plan would get you killed.”

476 notes · View notes

celestial-fucking-weeb · 4 years ago

Text

NAGĀ!SERO

Hey y’all! This is a part of the Citrus Server Hybrid!AU Collab! The masterlist is HERE, please please please go check everyone’s pieces out!

A/N: I am fully aware that this is all over the place, ya girl is off her meds and will edit later. Please don’t tell me it sucks, I already know and I hate it, too.

SERO HANTA X F!READER

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, smut, double penetration, aphrodisiac, interspecies miscommunication, size kink, breeding kink, mating, idk tell me if i missed anything

You had always heard stories about creatures in the forest; ones that eat humans, ones kidnap children, ones that would hurt you if you ever ran off by yourself. You didn’t believe them… Or maybe you did, but either way, the creatures could never be as scary as the life you already lived.

You had been taken prisoner when your coastal village was raided by pirates. Your clan’s viking warriors were off on a journey, leaving all of you oh so vulnerable with depleted numbers. They were going to kill you, like they did most of the others, but the pirate setting fire to everything in his path halted when he found you trembling under the rubble.

“Tomura, come see the new toy I found. Don’t you wanna keep her?”

“You sadistic bastard, how you get off to them crying like that never fails to make me sick. I don’t care what you do with her, Dabi, but I’m not cleaning up after you this time.”

They hauled you back to their ship, stripped you of everything and chained you in the hull. People came in and out, always different but always vile. You never spoke, you knew they wanted your screams. Overhaul, the captain, was the worst. You never knew when he was coming, and once he was there, you wondered what he wanted from you at all. Chained up, never touching you with anything but knives and his boots, not looking for your reactions… You wondered if he’d even notice if you stopped breathing. You dissociated for most of it, choosing instead to safeguard your mind, plan an escape.

About a year later, you found an opportunity in the carelessness of one of your captors. You docked someplace warm, someplace humid, maybe tropical? Toga had left your chains too loose after your last “date”, and had tossed the keys just a bit too close. As soon as she left, you had slipped your wrists out of the restraints, strained for the keys, and unlocked the shackles around your ankles. Not taking a moment to revel in the surreal feeling of being unchained, you listened until the heavy footsteps above you all faded into nothing, leaving the ship and most importantly: leaving you alone.

You ran. You ran so steadily, somehow comforted by the sounds of destruction getting further and further away. You found yourself blindly sprinting into a forest that looked nothing like your own, so damp and bright and warm. You kept running until you heard shuffling behind you, causing you to find the first thick vine hanging in your vicinity and clung to it as you climbed. Looking back, you see a simple boar grazing the forest floor. Sighing in relief, you relaxed a bit too soon, as the vine you had wrapped yourself around began to move.

Before you could react, you were wrapped up tightly in bands of muscle and brought towards the head of the- wait…- man? You had heard of nagā before, but the ones from your village’s stories were never described as so… tan, muscular, handsome. He didn’t look all that mean from the waist up, just the black, orange, and yellow scales trailing down his massive, strong tail seemed intimidating. He looked confused, concerned even, by your nakedness and panic stricken silence. Forked tongue flicking out to taste the air, smelling the blood and the abuse on your skin, seeing your quickly defeated body give up, and your mind resign itself to the comfort that at least you died free of your captors.

“Are you… okay?” The giant snake rumbles, human hand reaching towards your face and recoiling when you flinch.

You haven't spoken in months, your silence having been a security blanket, and you’re not ready to give that up. You do nothing, just look into his eyes and search for any sort of indication as to what he’s going to do. He loosens his grip a bit, just enough to slip down from his tree and head towards his hide- an old cave covered in ivy, moss, and little orange blossoms. He brings you in, and places you down on the ground before turning away to rummage through his things. He brings out water and bandages, along with some kind of salve that looks like a mixture of plants. You don’t reach for the water when he sets it near you, so he resorts to using the tip of his tail to bring it to your lips while his hands are busy tending to your wounds and gently rubbing the salve over your poorly healed scars. He offers you food, very confused when you don't seem to know what to do with the forest rodent he’s brought you, and decides on fruits he’s found. You don’t seem to want to do anything, not even going to sunbathe even though you’re obviously shivering.

THAT’S IT!!! SHE’S COLD! He thinks to himself, before wrapping his tail around you once more and bringing you outside to the rock where he typically warms himself. He gently places you down, uncoils you from his grasp, and gives you enough space to move as you please. You blink a few times, slowly realizing you’re free. He helped you? For no reason? He doesn’t know you…

“H-Hi… Thank… Thank you.” You mutter, looking away and blushing.

Cute… He thinks. “YOU TALK!!! What’s your name? I’m Sero, but you can call me Hanta! I was worried about you! Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?”

The line of questioning makes your head spin, and you try your best to answer before looking down and realizing you never found clothes. Blushing once again, you meekly gesture to your body and ask, “C-Clothes. I need clothes.” Hanta looks confused, but retreats to the cave and returns, bringing you a large piece of cloth that somewhat resembles a hemp blanket. It smells like oranges and spice, and you unconsciously snuggle into its comfort. Sero notices your calmed reaction to his scent and approaches you, gingerly grasps your ankle and picks up your leg, never having been so close to a human, and explores the strange angles your appendages bend.

“What are you doing?” You seem embarrassed, despite the number of people who've touched you before. This is too familiar, too intimate, almost too gentle.

“Tiny… Humans are… Small…”

You let him bend your limbs and play with your squish, strangely calm and trusting in his presence. He seems so enthralled by your body and how you move, so intrigued. That is, until he makes his way to massaging your plush thighs, causing a rush of arousal you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He prys opens your legs to continue his ministrations, not knowing the smell of your lust would have him flicking his tongue out and his eyes turning to hyper-focused slits. He suddenly releases your legs, slithers around your back, and presses against you. He taps the top of your head with his chin and waits for your response. Not knowing what this means, but wanting him to continue his exploration, you lean back into him and whine quietly.

You have no idea what you’ve started.

Hanta leans down, pressing sweet kisses down the column of your throat and leaving scathing bites in all the right places. Aphrodisiac venom coursing through your veins, you don’t even register his muscular arms wrapping around your body and lifting you, carrying you back into his cave and up into his hammock. He wraps his strong tail completely around your torso and takes his time kissing and groping your soft body, mumbling “mate, mate, mate” into your heated flesh. He finally makes his way down to your mound, prying your thighs apart and diving straight in before you could question his reverent gaze.

“HANTAAA~” You practically screamed as his long tongue slipped between your folds, running along your clit and down to your clenching hole, his saliva increasing the heat coursing through your core. “M-More, please… More~”

“More, what?” He smirks against your heat. “Say it. Tell me I’m your mate and I’ll make sure you’re fucked dumb, yeah? My pretty little mate.”

You stutter for a moment, getting more desperate the longer his fingers drag along your wetness. “Mate… Please! I need you… I’m yours!”

“Good mate~” His tongue wriggles back into your cunt, and his fingers slowly move further down to stretch your tight ass, making you squeal in surprise. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, all thoughts abandoning your mind as you ride out your high on his face and fingers.

“Are you ready, little one?” He growls lowly, lining up two long, thick cocks with each hole. Your eyes widen in surprise, head clearing for a moment after your climax.

“T-two?! Wait wait wait, I’ve never… I can’t! Two?!”

“Oh, little mate, but you can and you will!” He punctuates his statement by spitting down onto your cunt, thick venom slipping down to your tight rim. You moan and grind against his cocks, aphrodisiac leading your body into a blissed out state of submission. “Gonna fill you up so good. I promise you’ll be so full, feel so good, little mate. Trust me?”

“Y-yes! Wanna be full, want my mate!” You beg and plead for him to push into you, hips bucking against him, trying to get him to satiate the burning want he’d created. It isn’t until you thread your fingers through his hair and wrap your legs around his waist that he thrusts into you completely.

“That’s it, wrap around me like that. So tight, so warm… Fuuuck!~” Sero pants, chest pressed tightly to yours and face tucked into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking deep marks over your pulse point.

You’ve never felt so full, your body strangely welcoming the pleasurable stretch of your holes, pulling him deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your belly with every roll of his powerful hips. Your whimpers and tears only seem to spur him on, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your body.

“S-Shit, keep squeezing around me like that. Come on, little one, I know you have one more for me. Cum with me, I wanna feel you cum one more time. Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so good. Come on, pretty mate- fuck- cum for me~” He reaches down and pinches your overstimulated clit between two fingers and bites down on your neck one last time, sending you over the edge with a cry of “breed me, breed me, breed me!” and nails digging into his back.

“Mine! My mate, pretty little mate. Breed mate, all mine!! Gonna- gonna… Ah~” Hanta’s words steadily fell from his lips as he released deep inside your holes, belly bulging from the sheer amount of seed he spilled into you.

Utterly exhausted and dreamily floating off, you cling to him. Sero wraps you up in his tail and lays back into his hammock, keeping you as close as he can. When you snuggle into him, he whispers little praises into your hairline, a constant stream of “so good, pretty mate, all mine, i love you, so perfect, did so well, took me so well, such a good mate”.

The next day, you wake up surrounded by soft cloth, feathers, fruits, fluffy furs, a dozen shiny objects and pretty dried flowers. You sit up, looking around frantically for your mate before your eyes settle on a sheepish-looking Sero, wiggling nervously around the cave.

“Um… Do you… like it? I made it for you… I just- please tell me you like it!” He shrinks himself a bit, arm coming up to palm the back of his neck.

“Oh, is this a… nest? It’s- It’s very nice. Thank you, Hanta!” You smile softly at him, curling up into your nest and reaching out for him.

“MATE!!! I’m so happy you like it, I was so nervous!!! My mate. You can stay here all the time, so I can protect you, forever! My pretty little mate.~” He climbs into the nest and coils himself around you, content to guard you.

Maybe this time, being kept isn’t so bad.

#sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero

551 notes · View notes

aro-of-argentum · 5 years ago

Text

Interested

An EraserMic x Reader Smut One Shot

Notes/ Warnings: Established relationship with Shouta, Threesome, Oral (female receiving), Quirk Kink, Double penetration, anal, Fem reader, non-consensual recording of sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside, it’s soft at the end.

WC: 3139

Beta’d By: @teaspacebar as always

Hizashi sat down at his desk, his students having just left for the day, and found a small tape tucked neatly into the top drawer of his desk. He turned it over and found it labeled ��Interested?’ in a familiar scrawl. He shrugged and popped it into his player, sliding his headphones over his ears as he hit play. It was normal for his best friend to give him music to review this way, so he figured he’d listen as he graded. That was until he heard a soft rhythm of moans coming through his headset. He squinted, confusion taking over his features as he heard his best friend speak.

“I heard you and Midnight in the lounge today.”

The moans stopped.

“The conversation about who you’d want to be with if you weren’t mine.”

Your voice was the next to come through. “Shouta, we were just-”

“I know,” Hizashi listened intently as Shouta cut you off, “I’m not upset,” he reassured. “I’m interested.”

“What do you-” your question died in your throat and was quickly replaced with a groan of approval.

“You said you were curious about how he’d use his quirk.”

The blonde waited on baited breath for your response to his best friend’s statement.

“Use your words.” Shouta instructed.

“You- ah-” a gasp escaped you, and your response was forced between heaving breaths, “Yes! Yes.”

Shouta’s voice dropped considerably in tone, “Say his name for me, Kitten.”

“Hizashi.”

The word was short and barely audible, but it froze the man in his seat and he held his breath, waiting to see if you’d say his name again.

Shouta tsked, “Say it like he can hear you.”

“Hizashi.” This time it came as a moan dripping with need.

The hero’s breath escaped him in a lustful groan, and he was suddenly very aware of the erection his pants were struggling to contain.

“Shouta… please,” you sounded desperate, and Hizashi found himself whimpering at his desk, wanting to be the reason for the sounds you were making.

“Tell me how you want him to fuck you.” He punctuated the sentence with a grunt.

“I- fuck,” The word was drawn out and pornographic. “I want him to eat me out until I’m cumming on his tongue, and-” Your sentence was cut off by a sharp inhale. “Then I want him inside me. Hard, and-” Another gasp, “Faster.” You mewled, tone rising in pitch.

Hizashi listened as Shouta’s breathing mixed sinfully with yours. His heart was pounding out of his chest and he shifted in his seat, trying in vain to relive the pressure in his groin.

“That’s it, Kitten. Just a little more.”

“Please, I’m gonna-”

“Say his name while you cum for me.”

Hizashi’s eyes fluttered shut and his lungs strained to take in the air he needed when the recorded version of you yelled his name as you climaxed.

It was a moment of silence later when Shouta spoke again. “Good girl,” He cooed, “Get some rest.”

The man sitting at his desk heard you give an appreciative hum before the sound clicked off. He reached for his phone to text Aizawa, “Very.”

You stood in the shower with your eyes closed, letting the hot water run over your skin. You sighed as the stress of the day melted away. The plan had been to wait for your boyfriend to get home, but he’d taken too long to arrive, so you’d gotten in without him. He’d probably join you when he got home anyway.

As if on cue, you heard the bathroom door click open and Shouta called out to you. “Y/n? I’m sorry I’m late, but I have a surprise. Eyes closed,” He commanded.

You shook your head with a smile; he always made it up to you when he was late. “They are.”

You heard the shower curtain pull back and felt him slide in behind you. He gripped your hips and planted small kisses over your neck and shoulders. You hummed sweetly and pushed your hips into him, feeling his erection press into the small of your back. You heard him drag a breath between his teeth when you ground your ass against him, and you chuckled slightly. “Shouta, this is nice, but it’s not really a surprise.”

“Isn’t it though?” His voice came distinctly from in front of you. You froze and your eyes shot open to look your boyfriend, naked in all his glory, dead in the eye. Your heart raced and your stomach found a home in your throat until you heard the man behind you speak.

The words brushed against the shell of your ear as the man pressed himself against you. “Hey, Princess.”

Oh fuck. Hizashi had used the nickname before but never like that. His tone never sounded like he was ready to eat you alive. Every ounce of air in your body left you in a groan when Hizashi pinched at one of your peaked nipples. Your hand landed on top of his where he still gripped your hip and pulled up his fingers to interlock them with yours. You dragged his hand to hover at the top of your thighs.

You felt Hizashi stop for a moment, and your question of why was answered when you saw Shouta nod. Having been given the approval he needed, the blonde’s fingers dipped between your legs and made quick work of finding your clit. You moaned, back arching off Hizashi’s chest as he drew careful circles around the bud of nerves. You gripped his forearm like your life depended on it and tilted your head to the side to give him more space for the love bites he was leaving.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered the compliment into your neck and placed a kiss in the same spot, like he was sealing it into your skin. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this. To hear you make these sounds for me.”

His words made you whimper, and you relaxed into his chest as he continued to touch you.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and Shouta is a very lucky man.”

That made you turn to face him. You searched the lime-green eyes in front of you for only a moment before you kissed him.

“Y/n,” He breathed your name like a prayer into your mouth as he wrapped his arms around you. You poured every ounce of love you held for him into that kiss and you hoped he could feel it. The kiss broke when you felt Shouta press against your back, and having seen his opportunity, your boyfriend took Hizashi’s chin in his hand and pulled him into a deep kiss over your shoulder. The blonde moaned and you felt each of them twitch with need.

“Bedroom. Now.” Were the first words out of Shouta’s mouth when he pulled back and the three of you quickly made your way across the hall. Shouta sat down near the edge of your bed first and patted the sheets in front of him, which you knew was a signal for you. You sat with your back to him and felt him slide closer, hands reaching your knees and slowly parting your legs as Hizashi watched. “Hizashi is going to show you how he can use his quirk, if you’re good for him.”

Your breathing picked up speed and both men noticed, giving each other a sly smile before Hizashi knelt before you.

“Say my name, Princess.” The blonde planted kisses on the insides of your thighs, slowly getting closer to your core.

You started to squirm, so Shouta reached down to hold your hips in place. “Hold still, Kitten.” He kissed your temple before looking to Hizashi with lust-blown eyes.

You watched as the man before you shifted his gaze from your boyfriend to you before he spoke again. “Say my name.”

“Hizashi,” You responded in a sultry tone.

He hummed in approval and licked a stripe up your folds before delving into your cunt with his tongue.

“Fuck!” Your hand instinctively reached for him, fingers threading through his hair and pulling.

He backed away. “Woah, Princess, careful. You’re gonna get me all riled up.”

“Zashi, please,” You begged.

The blonde returned to his place between your legs and alternated between penetrating you with his tongue and circling your clit as he pushed you closer to the edge. You rode his face, grinding into him with small pleasured moans, until he started to hum. You gasped, back arching away from Shouta’s chest as he continued to hold your hips in place. When your orgasm came out of nowhere, you cried Hizashi’s name, and heard Shouta moan behind you. Hizashi worked you through it, slowing down until you stopped shaking before he withdrew. Shouta reached for the blonde and pulled him in for a kiss, tasting you in the other man’s mouth.

The two worked in tandem to move you up the bed and Shouta immediately had you pinned beneath him. “Are you going to be good for us, kitten?”

“Yes.”

His hand wrapped around you throat, “Yes, what?”

“Ah-” You choked on your reply for a second before you could form the words in your mind. “Yes, sir.”

“Mmm,” He hummed appreciatively, stroking your jaw lightly with his thumb. “Good girl.” Shouta leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss and he lingered, hovering only inches from you face when he finally broke the contact. He searched your eyes for a moment, all dominance and lust aside, and whispered the question, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You smiled at him softly and slipped one of your hands from his loosened grip to touch his cheek. “Yes, Shou, I’m sure.” You turned to look at Hizashi and found the same question in the blonde’s eyes. You reached for your best friend and pulled him into you to kiss him deeply. “I’m sure,” You whispered into his mouth.

Hizashi’s arms snaked around your back and hips and pulled you as close to him as he could get you, before he rolled you onto your back. You giggled as he peppered kisses over your face and worked his way down to your neck. A small gasp escaped you when Hizashi nipped the pulse point beneath your jaw and you ground your hips up into his.

“Zashi-” Your moan was cut off by another kiss.

His hands traced paths up and down your sides, and his mouth found your tit, sucking and rolling his tongue over your peaked nipple. The moans he drew from you were only fuel, and when you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled, he released a throaty groan. “What do you need from me, Princess?”

“Fuck me,” There was no hesitation in your answer. “Please, Hizashi, I need you.”

“Oh, baby girl,” He murmured into your temple, “How the hell did I wait this long for you?” He slid a hand down to line himself up and you felt him press against your entrance. Your head tilted back, and you inhaled deeply as you felt him slowly slide into your dripping core. “Fuck,” the word was breathy and barely audible as Hizashi hung his head, taking in the feeling of you wrapped around him.

You placed your hand on the side his face to draw his attention and when he made eye contact, you kissed him. He hummed when you bit his lip and you smiled up at him, searching his lust blown eyes for any sign of hesitation. You found none.

“Hizashi,” The word came from where Shouta sat on the bed and you both looked to your boyfriend, slowly stroking himself. “Move.”

Hizashi rolled his hips once, slowly, and an explicit moan escaped from both of you before he pulled almost all the way out of you. The blonde snapped his hips forward and set a pace that had you whimpering and clawing at his back.

“Make those pretty sounds for me, sweetheart,” His thrusts were pushing you closer to the edge again. “You look so beautiful like this, God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Your words were cut off by Hizashi going still inside you and being yanked back by the roots of his hair. Shouta stared at the blonde, chest heaving and hand still wrapped in his best friend’s hair. There was a moment of silence in which no one moved before Shouta crashed his lips into Hizashi’s.

“Shou, I-” Hizashi started.

“I know,” The man’s words were pressed between urgent kisses.

“Thank God.”

Shouta pulled away from the kiss and pushed Hizashi slowly to the side, which the blonde took as a signal to get off of you and lay on his back. “Y/n,” Your boyfriend curled his finger in the ‘come here’ motion and you obeyed, perching in front of him on your knees. He pulled you in by the back of your neck to kiss you, moaning when you pressed your hips into his. “You think you can take both of us, Kitten?”

A groan fell from your lips as heat pooled in your core. “Please.”

“Good girl.” He nodded toward Hizashi’s form laying behind you and watched carefully as you moved to straddle his best friend’s hips. He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the small bottle of lube you kept there. It wasn’t the first time Shouta would be buried balls-deep in your ass.

“Y/n,” Hizashi’s tone was strained when he said your name, but you continued to slowly stroke him as you lifted your hips. “Princess, please, just let me feel you,” He begged as his grip tightened on your hips, trying to pull you to him.

You lined him up and slowly sank onto him. A soft and breathy moan escaped you when you felt the stretch return as his length slid into you. You sat still for a moment before you felt a hand press against your back, and you leaned forward as Shouta applied pressure to push you. The closeness of you face to Hizashi’s gave you the perfect opportunity to kiss him again as you heard the bottle click open behind you. You didn’t break contact with the blonde’s lips until you gasped, feeling two of Shouta’s fingers press into your ass, covered in the cool liquid. “Fuck,” You drew the word out.

“Shouta,” The blonde spoke, his tone dripping with need, “I can feel you.”

“Mmhmm, we’re almost there,” he replied.

“Ah!” You shook as Shouta spread his fingers, prepping you for his cock. You relaxed slightly when he withdrew his fingers, but your muscles tensed again when you felt him press against your hole.

Hizashi’s eyes focused over your shoulder for a moment before he looked to you, seriousness in his eyes, ��Ready?”

“Yes,” The word was clipped with a sharp inhale as Shouta began to slide inside you.

“Oh,” Hizashi let out a choked moan, “Sweetheart, relax, I’m not going to last if you keep squeezing me like that.”

When Shouta bottomed out in your ass, he bent over to kiss your shoulder gently and whispered, “You okay, Kitten?”

“I’m okay,” your tone was shaky, the pressure in your abdomen building, even with the two of them sitting still.

“Good girl.”

You saw Hizashi’s gaze focus behind you again and he nodded before both of them pulled out and snapped their hips forward at the same time. You screamed in pleasure and the men set an unforgiving rhythm of pounding into you as you did everything you could not to let your arms give out. You felt hands playing with your tits, pulling at your hips and ass, and the coil in your core getting tighter. Their pace was relentless, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything except how they felt, buried inside you and fucking you into oblivion as you chanted their names like a prayer.

“I’m- fuck- I’m close,” You barely managed the words as you felt each of their thrusts start to faulter.

“Us too, Kitten,” Shouta could hardly speak between his moans, “Just a little more.”

“She’s clamping down, I can’t-”

You screamed when your orgasm crashed over you, walls contracting around the men inside you as they continued to fuck into you.

“I’m cumming,” The man below you warned as he tried to lift your hips to pull out of you. You had enough of your mind still to force your hips down onto his and you felt him fill you with cum as your boyfriend’s thrusts became erratic. Shouta rammed his cock into you one last time and came, filling your ass with semen too.

For a moment the three of you were still, but your arms began to shake, and Hizashi noticed.

“Come here, Princess,” He pulled your arms from under you and supported you as he gently lowered you into his chest to hold you. “Are you okay?”

Your voice was blissful and tired when you replied, “Yes.” You felt the blonde press a kiss to your temple and rub your back as he held you. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face and you asked, “How do you feel?”

He smiled softly, “Really good, Sweetheart. I’m really good.”

It was then that you felt Shouta finally pull out of you. He left the room and came back a few moments later. Hizashi pulled out of you and you felt a damp cloth press between your thighs. You hummed appreciatively as your boyfriend cleaned you up as he always did, and you heard Hizashi hiss from overstimulation when Shouta moved to clean him up too.

“Thank you, Shou,” Your words were soft as you started to let your tiredness take over.

“Mmhmm,” He responded and kissed your forehead before leaving the room again.

Your eyelids grew heavier with each blink, and the last thing you remembered was feeling your boyfriend slide into bed before you fell asleep.

You woke up in what must have been the small hours of the morning, given that the sky was still dark. Hizashi was curled into you, with his arms wrapped around your waist and his head nestled into your chest. You moved to run your fingers through his hair, and he snuggled ever closer before his breathing returned to his light snore. You looked down to the foot of the bed and found your legs comfortably tangled with the men’s as they slept, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Shouta?” You whispered and looked up to find your boyfriend was already watching you with warm eyes from his place snuggled into Hizashi’s back. “Can we keep him?”

The man gave an amused exhale, “That’s funny, I was just going to ask if you were interested.”

#Smut #Erasermic smut #erasermic x Reader #my hero academia #My hero academia smut #BNHA #MHA #Shouta Aizawa #Hizashi Yamada #Eraserhead #Present Mic

813 notes · View notes

yayteaberry · 4 years ago

Text

*SFW* Dumbass! (Bakugou)

When you were about two years old, your family made a huge move from America to Japan. Your father found suitable hero work there so that’s where you stayed. His quirk worked much like a wolfs, giving him heightened senses and much more mobility. Naturally you inherited the physical aspects such as a tail and ears, though much of you remained human like your mother.

Growing up, you quickly bonded with your neighbor's son, Katsuki Bakugou.

Your fiery and determined attitude worked really well with him and he made for an excellent playmate. He could handle your tendency to roughhouse and wrestle, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. You two were inseparable, spending a near unhealthy amount of time with each other, this carried well into your schooling years.

Despite claiming you had your own intentions behind it, you did follow him like a lost puppy. It was quite obvious to everyone around you that you’d do anything for him, except for him of course.

You were almost dangerously defensive over him, snapping at people who questioned or pushed at him while you were around.

It made you seriously upset when other people touched him or got to speak with him more than you, heavily sulking and pouting until you got your opportunity for his attention. As guilty as you could feel about it in retrospect, you really can’t help it.

When you had his attention all to yourself, you loved to spar with him more than anything else. It wasn’t like it was a special activity but still it felt like something between you and him. As you grew up ‘wrestling’ became something skin to sparring and then just became a routine part of training once he got into UA. Though there was a nostalgic undertone, in the past it used to be something he’d only do with you, and you were having a hard time letting go.

Currently you were waiting for him to come back to his room so you could ask him to do just that. He enters his room right on time, totally unperturbed you were already inside since you’d made a habit of coming in anytime you wanted.

“Hey! Lets go practice!”, you chirp as you hop off his bed, excitedly skipping up to him.

“Nah, I just finished up doing that with Kirishima for the past hour and I wanna take a break.” He speaks as he nonchalantly drops his bag to the floor.

It’s somehow more insulting that you can smell how sweaty he is.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?”, with a disgusted huff you size him up, angry enough to just tackle him already.

“Fucks your problem? I didn’t promise you anything today.”

You pout as you often do, crossing your arms over your chest, ears pinched back. “Yeah but why would you run off with him like that! I’m right here! You in love with him or something?”

He rolls his eyes and matches your stance with his standard snarl, staring you down. The height difference does nothing to make you intimidated, and it never has. “I can do what I want. He asked me first and either way I need to branch out and win against different people who actually provide a challenge.”

You scoff and throw your hands at your sides after balling them into fists, stomping your foot down to accent your disapproval. “I do provide a challenge, you don’t win every time you asshole! I bet he was really terrible at it, not nearly as good as me!”

The way his face scrunches up a moment makes you narrow your eyes, not sure what he’s thinking about. When a big grin breaks out you feel your rage double.

“You’re jealous of him.”

That makes you nearly explode, snorting out a scoff and shaking your head. “Not in your wildest fucking dreams! I am not jealous!”

“Yes, yes you are.”, he says after a laugh that makes your face feel hot.

“Stop talking so calmly! I just said I’m not so I’m not! Shut the fuck up! Shut up, you’re so dumb sometimes!”, you shout back at him, turning your head to the side as you instantly loathe your inability to shut your mouth.

He only smiles wider, leaning close into your personal space, gently flicking your nose. “You totally are, I can see it.”

You swat at his hand and growl, tail bristling as you go fully defensive. “I said shut the fuck up! There’s nothing jealous about me! I just don’t think you should be spending your time with such a loser!”

Easily he grabs your hand, tilting his head and speaking with such a mocking tone you have to keep down the urge to bite him. “Oh? And, just who do you recommend replacing him? If not him, then who? If you’re not jealous then I assume you’ve got another person in mind. C’mon, I’m all ears.”

With a harsh yank you get your hand back, pushing on his chest and getting even more frustrated when he doesn’t budge. “Shut up! I said shut up! Stop being such a bastard about this!”

“Why should I? You’re the one freaking out.”

“I AM NOT FREAKING OUT!”, you shout, freaking out.

“It’s adorable that you get so upset just because I spent an hour with someone else, you’re all pink in the face over it. That’s jealousy if I’ve ever seen it.” He can’t wipe the smirk off his face when you act like it, he did always find it cute when you get so heated over him giving you attention.

“I’m not upset and I’m not jealous! I just don’t like you accusing me of things that I’m not! You’re a fucking idiot!”, you continually spout, upper lip curled up as your breathing turns into gruff pants, barely avoiding the urge to start barking.

Despite how you look fit to maul him, he finds himself perfectly comfortable grabbing one of your ears, delicately massaging it between his fingers. The action almost instantly starts working to calm you down, feeling so good you lean into it without realizing it. Though you’re still pouting, the raging fire has simmered down greatly.

“I can’t only spar with you, I do need to improve my technique.” He speaks as he continues, now using both hands for both ears.

You puff out a large breath, “Well why can’t you do that with me? I can change my fighting style, do different things. If you need something different then why can’t you tell me what?”

“Why is this so important to you? We hang out a fuck ton outside of doing that so whats the difference.” His voice is laced with annoyance, making you wince internally.

“Because he’s got his stupid hands all over you.”, you reply, mildly hypnotized enough by his massaging that you let some of the truth slip out.

“So you should be the only person allowed to touch me?” He raises an eyebrow at that, nearly letting out another laugh.

Your stomach sinks at the implication of what you’ve said, attempting to fishtail your way out of it. “No! Just, that, well! Why’s it even matter, you’re not listening to me anyways! God is it too much to ask that you pay some attention to your best friend sometimes!” You grab at his wrists and pull his hands away, tossing them away.

“What the hell would you even call this right now? You even sleep in here most nights, how the fuck can I possibly give you more attention! Do you wanna be attached at the fuckin hip!”, he says with an exasperated grunt, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Shut up! It’s just comfortable here is all, not a crime to have preference! S-So what if I like it in here? So what if I don’t think you should let just anybody get their hands all over you!” You anxiously fidget with your hands, shrugging passively despite your raised volume.

“So you admit that you’re upset about me sparring with Kirishima because you don’t want him to touch me!”, he says while he points an accusatory finger towards you.

“Yea, whatever! So what!”, you shout as you throw your arms up, sitting back on his bed forcefully enough to bounce a few times, “Not a fucking crime is it! It’s contact, I’m part wolf you know, it’s kinda in my blood!”

“I have to do other shit besides enable your needy ass, you should be grateful I allow you to do all the shit you do!” He puts his hands on his hips, leaning down to get in your personal space.

“I’m not fucking needy!”, you shoot back instantly, nails digging into your palms.

“That’s right, you’re needy AND jealous!”

You can’t handle anymore slander being thrown at you, lunging off the bed and tackling him to the floor with a loud growl.

He goes down but flips you underneath him the moment he makes full connection with the ground, holding your wrists together in one hand above your head. Squirming around somewhat violently gets you free, pushing him by his chest to get him away. Once he’s off balance you shove him back onto the floor, sitting on his back.

As you grab one of his arms to twist, he shoves you backwards hard enough that you tumble off. That disorients you long enough for him to pin you down, his chest against your back and your face partially mashed into the floor. You can’t reach him like this, so you get up on your knees before he’s able to hold your hips flat down, wiggling like before to see if you can escape.

But, it doesn’t work, all it does is make him grunt strangely as your tail awkwardly presses into his stomach. To submit so he’ll get off, you relax, your ass settling against his lap.

“Giving up? Say it, say you’re giving up!” He says with the usual grit, tugging one of your arms backwards.

You yelp in pain, no longer willing to go gently into defeat. “I’m not giving up, I just want your boner out of my ass!”

“Don’t distract and fuckin’ lie, say you’re done!”, he punctuates his sentence by yanking your arm.

Just to prove a point you made up on the spot, you wiggle your hips against him, definitely winning by the way he lets go of your arm and sits upright to grab at your hips instead, letting a soft ‘fuck’ slip past his lips.

You’ve already started crawling away when he shoves you forward, falling onto your face with zero grace.

“Hey! Asshole, don’t push me!”, you whine as you rub at your nose, nearly sneezing.

“Serves you right!”

“Oh, for fucking what!”, you get back to your feet, seeing that he’s sat down on his bed.

“I don’t have to explain it to you!” He plops down onto his bed, once again crossing his arms over his chest.

“So that means you’re so cowardly you won’t admit that was a dirty play!”, you spit out at him as you stomp over to him, standing in front of him.

He nearly jumps up, getting right in your face to try and make you back down. “Don’t think I forgot what you’re trying to distract me from. This is all because you can’t accept that I can’t be up your ass all day like you are up mine!”

You don’t fold in the least, if anything leaning in close enough that your nose bumps into his. “Fuck. You.”

“Jealous bitch!”

“Stuck up bastard!”

The staring contest you’re having is intense, full of tension that threatens to explode if you so much as blink.

Suddenly, there’s a shift in the energy, gaze softening for just a split second before he presses his mouth onto yours. It’s not until he pulls away that you realize that was supposed to be a kiss, turning red as a tomato as your eyes widen.

Bakugou was actually blushing, looking at you as if he’s having a hard time with something. Which did scare you a bit since he was always so sure of himself. “You’re fucking stupid sometimes but you know you’re mine. So, just say it.”

“... What..?”, you say after a full ten seconds of star struck silence.

He grimaces and collects himself for a moment before speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m asking your dumbass to go out with me.”

“That’s not really asking, you didn’t even phrase it as a question...” Your eyebrows knit together as you shoot him a confused look.

“Well what’s your fucking answer!” He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue against his teeth, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“Of course it’s yes, I’m not completely braindead,” you smile and kiss him on the cheek, very pleased over the outcome of the argument, “only stipulation is that you tell me before you rub yourself all over another person. In return I’ll stop threatening to bite everyone.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #bakugou fluff #fluff #mha fluff #a03 fic

35 notes · View notes

honeybee-babe · 4 years ago

Text

Ficlet: Adam+Eric and Ruby+Otis on Another Double Date and Adam’s Allergies Act Up

(brief glimpse of Lily+Ola at the end)

Another cute/fluffy fic featuring sneezy Adam, this time with lots of cute Ruby bits! Canon compliant.

2,018 words

The second time Adam and Eric went on a double date with Otis and Ruby, they had decided to go to the park down the street from the Milburn residence for a picnic.

It was still September pollen count was manageable, so Adam thought he could handle it. He'd been meaning to stop taking his Claritin for the season and decided last night would be a good time. If he took them too much, he found that they became less effective.

What he hadn't been expecting was that Ruby would be wearing so much freaking perfume.

"You two excited to chat more about your terrible taste in reality TV?" Otis teased as he poured everyone a solo cup of pilfered red wine from his mom's pre-pregnancy stash.

"Most people like to stay updated on pop culture," Ruby said, flashing him a condescending little smile and taking a sip of wine.

"Plus, it's wicked funny!" Eric defended, elbowing Adam to get him to agree -- which he did, nodding before taking a long sip of his wine to try to cover up his nose twitching, indulging in a few scrunches in that time. He'd never had wine before. It was weird but oddly delicious. "We watch it together sometimes now. You should try watching it with Ruby, y'know it can't hurt to show some interest in the things your girlfriend likes.”

"I will watch the Kardashians when she plays Smash Bros."

"I am not playing a stupid video game, especially not one with a disgusting title like that."

"...what do you think Smash Bros is about?"

For some reason, the wine seemed to be making Adam’s nose more itchy. He set his cup down and rubbed at it a bit, while everyone else was thankfully too invested in the argument to notice.

He still hadn't sneezed in front of anyone except Eric, and even around him he still stifled, occasionally managing an half-stifle (well, more of a 3/4 stifle). This was just not an insecurity he could fully conquer overnight.

Unfortunately, the red wine was really setting him over the edge. Normally in this situation, he'd just excuse himself to the bathroom for a minute to go sneeze in peace and take his meds. Or if he really couldn't hold back in the middle of a class or something, he'd just find some time when the teacher wasn't looking to stifle into silence. He typically sat in the back so that wasn't an issue.

But unfortunately, he didn't have either of those luxuries at the moment. And it was a double allergen -- something he wasn't used to. Maybe now was the time for him to push his phobia a bit further.

Eric's explanation of the game and Ruby's unexpected curiosity and interest in it (maybe it was the wine talking?) proved another distraction, as he finally indulged in a silent stifle, turning away from Eric just in time.

As usual, the force rocked him to the side quite a bit, and his wine sloshed in his cup from the force, and Eric immediately grabbed it from him before it could actually spill, knowing there were at least two more coming (and Adam spilled shit on himself enough when he wasn't involuntarily and repeatedly convulsing). Thankfully, Adam managed to squash them both into silence too.

“Gesundheit,” Otis said casually as Eric and Ruby went on talking. Adam nodded his thanks to him as Eric handed him back his cup and squeezed his hand. He knew Adam was weird about sneezing around other people and he was glad that he was making steps to get over it.

The conversation dragged on, Adam offering little grunts and one word answers of agreement with Eric. Otis and Ruby (begrudgingly) agreed to try watching the show and playing the game, respectively.

Adam's nose was still itchy, but he could keep it at bay with occasional (and well-timed) rubs and sniffs -- and by avoiding the wine.

All was well, until they started in on their pizza gluten free pizza. It really wasn’t that bad, and Ruby really appreciated that no one had made a fuss about it. Otis went to refill everyone's wine cups.

"Adam, you've barely touched your wine." he observed, seeming disappointed. “Usually you finish your drink before everyone else. Do you not like it?"

"No, uh. It's really good. It’s just, uh," Adam hesitated. “...wine gives me the shits sometimes, so. Probably shouldn’t risk it.”

Everyone exchanged a mutual look of disgust, Ruby in particular.

"Well, there goes my appetite.” She tossed down her pizza slice and went for another sip of wine. "TMI, much?"

"So, uh," Eric cleared his throat. "What about that assembly today, huh? Quite the disaster."

"I'd rather not bring Hope Hadden into my safe space, thanks.”

"This is your safe space?"

"Wherever there's wine and gluten free pizza, I feel safe." Just as Ruby said that, Adam took a rather large bite of his own slice, leaving a big splotch of sauce on his chin. Out of habit, Ruby went in with her napkin. It wasn’t her fault, she was used to cleaning up for her father, and he and Adam both radiated the same fuckwit energy.

"Uh... thanks?" Adam commented, a little bit embarrassed. Ruby's hand flew back down to her cup as soon as she realized her mistake, hiding her face in her cup.

"You trying to flirt with my boyfriend, Ruby?" Eric joked.

"No, it was just disgusting to look at!" she insisted, flushing a bit red, maybe not due to just the wine. "You should really invest in an etiquette class," she said rather condescendingly to Adam, who wasn't listening because he was gearing up for another sneeze. He’d been set off a second time, this time due to the unexpected proximity to Ruby’s heavily perfumed wrist.

He indulged in another triple, this time punctuating the first two silent ones with a more substantial half-stifle.

“hh’MPtsh! Fuck,” he vocalized on a heavy sigh in the aftermath. Eric rubbed his arm tenderly, which he’d been doing since the second sneeze in this set. Ruby and Otis shot each other a look.

"Babe," Eric started once he was sure that was it, removing his hand from Adam's arm to instead tilt the sniffling boy's face to him. He was clearly flushed and his eyes were a bit watery. "Did you forget to take your meds last night?"

"Uh, no. I didn't." Adam muttered, sniffling rather loudly. Sneezing in front of them was bad enough without Eric commenting on it, even though Adam knew it was from a place of love. "I stopped taking them last week, remember?"

"Why would you not take antihistamines before a picnic if you've got allergies?" Ruby asked, clearly unimpressed.

"The pollen count wasn't supposed to be high today."

"Well, clearly it is.”

"Actually, it’s not," Otis cut in, showing off his phone screen. "I just looked it up.”

"Are you getting sick, babe?" Eric asked, putting a hand to Adam's forehead. "You do look a little flushed."

"No," Adam backed away from him, swatting his hand away from him. He really did not do well with everyone staring at him. "It's, uh, I think it's the wine. It was, uh. It was kinda bothering my nose."

"Why wouldn't you just tell us that?" Ruby asked. "That's a much better image than you shitting yourself."

"I've heard wine can bother people with hayfever," Otis commented, taking the bottle and moving it away from Adam as if that was going to help. "But you haven't been drinking any. You sure you're not sick?" Otis asked, inching away from him a bit now. Eric had mentioned he could be a bit of a germaphobe.

"Uh, no. Not sick," Adam said, trying for an awkward little smile. "Just the wine... and I think Ruby's perfume, a bit.

There was a moment of silence, as if Adam had just said something highly offensive. Ruby tensed up the moment he said that.

"It is Ariana Grande," she defended. "And it's quite expensive!"

"Well," Eric said tentatively. "You are kind of wearing a lot of it.”

Otis shot Ruby a sympathetic little grin. Before Eric and Adam had gotten to his house, he had commented on it himself. Ruby embarrassedly admitted that they’d had to run in a mile in gym class today, and she hadn't had time to shower in the time between getting home from school and driving up to Otis’ house was because she had been literally bathing her own father instead. Hence, the perfume bath.

“It smells really good," Adam explained through a mouthful of pizza, “it just bothers my allergies.” He sniffled again for good measure and rubbed his eyes a bit.

"Your eyes are all red, love," Eric pointed out, rubbing his shoulder again. "Maybe we should go back to yours and get some meds in you."

"I've got some at my place, actually," Otis offered. "We could go back and watch a movie or something? Wine's almost done, and it is getting dark. Hey, maybe we could watch the Kardashians." He smiled at Ruby.

"And you can teach me Smash Bros," Ruby offered, returning his smile and then turning to Adam. "As long as Sneezy here is okay with it?"

"Y-yeah. I'm good with that," Adam offered, actually chuckling a bit at the silly name-calling, and turned to Eric. He was relieved that no one made a big deal about, and pleasantly surprised at how eager they were to accommodate him. You good with that, babe?"

"Of course.” Eric kissed him on the nose mischievously, thankfully not causing another fit. “My second and third favorite things."

And so they walked back to the house, Otis and Ruby chattering away and holding hands, passing the wine bottle between the two of them and taking swigs of it until it was finished, the latter getting increasingly less unpleasant to be around the tipsier she got.

Adam and Eric trailed behind, also holding hands, mostly quiet except for the latter occasionally commenting on how much of a lightweight the other couple in front of them both were. Adam sneezed silently a few more times as they walked. Eric, knowing how uncomfortable he still was about it, chose not to bless him and alert the others, but rather to squeeze his hand and shoot him a sympathetic smile each time, leaning his head on his sniffly boyfriend's shoulder as they made their way up the steps to the Milburn-Nyman residence.

Ruby showered, and put on one of Otis' t-shirts and a rolled-up, comically too long pair of his sweatpants. They'd never seen her without makeup before. She was somehow prettier this way. And also a lot more talkative.

Ola had Lily over, and they tentatively came downstairs to grab some crisps halfway into the group's chosen episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians (the Viagra one, of course -- what else would this group have chosen?). Surprisingly, Ruby was the one who asked if they wanted to join in, claiming she was getting “testosterone poisoning” from being around the three boys for so long. No one bothered to correct her and tell her what the term actually meant.

Adam got a little tense again when she explained to the two of them why they'd had to cut their picnic short and why she was wearing “loser clothes,” but he relaxed again when they didn't make a fuss about it either. Lily even said that perfumes bothered her too, sometimes. Who woulda thought?

But the party didn't really start until they started playing Smash Bros, which is how they spent the rest of the night -- boys vs girls, of course. Girls team reigned superior most rounds, mostly thanks to Ola's mad skills (and Otis and Adam letting them win -- Eric was way too competitive for that, of course).

All in all, it was a great night, and Adam walked Eric home feeling a little bit more comfortable with himself. That was a recurring theme with him, these days, after all.

24 notes · View notes

littlemisslipbalm · 5 years ago

Text

Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.” A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #little border town #harry styles one shot #harry styles af #ahghsgjfgkjdfkg #literal keyboard smash #its been so long #and no one is going to read #do y'all even remember me omg

327 notes · View notes

gagmebucky · 5 years ago

Text

hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.)

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers.

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works.

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session.

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.”

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.”

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you��seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!”

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along.

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.”

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?”

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage.

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?”

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?”

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess—

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you.

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms.

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender.

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips.

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure.

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!”

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.”

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.”

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back.

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.”

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins.

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel smut imagines #spiderman x reader smut #marvel smut #heh I am going to pass out #I..#goodnight im off me ass sjdjjsxj

388 notes · View notes

coulson-is-an-avenger · 4 years ago

Note

1 11 or 27 for jmart ???

Thank you Dani🥰!!! I ended up going with #1 for this one, hope that’s cool! This one is very soft and very gender ;-;. Hope you enjoy! <3

- set in a kinder timeline, in which Jon and Martin survive the apocalypse, and are getting ready for a formal event-

At this point, Jon’s pretty sure he’s going to make them both late. He’s well aware of the time - it’s ticking away quite noisily on his wrist - but he is utterly insistent on getting this right. He’s never presented this feminine at an event before, never presented this feminine to a group before, honestly, and so everything has to be perfect. This is momentous to him.

He stares into the mirror like it’s personally offending him, lips pressed firmly together in utter concentration as he weaves the last strands of his hair together, pulling together a simple french braid that ends over his shoulder. There, it actually looks somewhat nice. Martin has said before that the grey in his hair adds to the beauty, and for the first time, he can’t help but agree. He casts a scrutinizing gaze over the whole thing again, making sure nothing’s out of place, double checking the evenness of the sections throughout his hair, and, miraculously, he doesn’t find anything wrong.

With a satisfied little noise of surprise, he frees up a hand to tug the hair-tie from his mouth and tie the braid off, and then he sits back to fully take in his work.

God, it feels nice. The effort may have been a little extensive - nearly two hours of clicking through YouTube videos and frustration and unbraiding and rebraiding - but it lays nicely, falling over his shoulder with a gentle flourish. It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s... well, it feels very, very nice. In a gender sort of way.

Which, he supposes, is the point of the whole attire he has going on tonight. A smile starts to wander over his face, and he leans into it as he adds the finishing touches to his hair; fluffing out certain bits of it, and then spraying it to make sure it stays in place, and then he’s swinging the bathroom door open and all but jumping out.

“Martin!” He grabs the attention of his partner, who has been very, very patiently sitting on his phone and waiting, bless him. “How do I look?”

Martin looks up in earnest and makes a little ‘ooh’ sound as he looks him over, his expression turning into one of wonder. “Oh, Jon, you look amazing.”

Jon feels a smile split his face at that and he ducks his head, looking down at the fabric surrounding him and rubbing it between his fingers. “Thank you,” he says, because he’s learning to accept these things. From this angle, he can see the red-black of his dress shimmering as the waves of the skirt catch the light in the living room. It’s a lovely pattern, one he really enjoys looking at, and more than that, it feels good, feels right in that way he’s learned to chase, learned to lean into. Something dangerously close to euphoria is building in his chest.

“Well? Are you going to twirl?” Martin asks, his eyes lighting up, his smile never once faltering on his face. The expression is gorgeous on him, and it softens any nerves Jon might have had like a flame clearing away snow.

He flashes a smile of his own before spinning around once, twice, enough times for the dress to flare out around his knees in the ways he’s always seen on other giddy children. The fabric billows out in its own dance alongside his own, and it’s freeing, it’s freeing. He’s beaming by the time he comes to a stop, his cheeks nearly hurting from the intensity of it as he stumbles forward and balances himself by gripping Martin’s arms.

He lets out a breathless apology, but Martin looks so full of happiness at the sight of him, that he can’t help but mirror the expression on his own face. He feels ready to burst, and then he lets out a small snort, and then they both collapse into laughter; open and free and happy. They’re still getting used to this, to it all being okay now, and moments like these always feel like miles of progressed traversed in an instant. The whole hero’s journey fits into the time it takes for Martin’s chest to stop shaking with leftover giggles.

Jon reaches up to swipe the tears of laughter from Martin’s face with his thumbs, still grinning. Martin looks back down at him with those wide, dark eyes, and the moment shifts slightly, settling into a comfortable affection.

“You look beautiful,” Martin whispers, because he knows it’s a term that makes Jon smile like he’s discovering something new, and also because he truly, wholeheartedly believes it. Jon is gorgeous to him, always has been, but the confidence and self expression have drawn that beauty out in strides that he hadn’t even known existed before. It’s a beautiful thing to witness, to get to participate in.

“Thank you,” Jon says, his eyes crinkling at the corners with affection. “You look quite handsome yourself.” He offers back, leaning away from his arms to look him over fully.

Martin does indeed look wonderful. He’s unbraided his hair and styled it into a neat fro that frames his face, and he’s wearing the sharp purple suit that he was finally able to get tailored for him last month. He also added a stud earring on the right side that sparkles in the light, and it ties the look together to give him an air that’s honestly regal.

Jon shares this with him, and Martin snorts, although from the way his smile turns bashful, and he turns his head away slightly, Jon knows he’s scored a point, and gotten him to blush.

“Oh, please,” Martin argues, even though his hands tighten around Jon’s shoulders.

“I mean it,” Jon insists, swaying closer. “You’re stunning. Always stunning.”

“As are you,” Martin deflects, and punctuates his point by leaning into the small space between them and kissing his forehead gently.

Jon lets out a sigh like he does every single time Martin kisses him, and crowds himself closer, pressing against his chest like he’s seeking his warmth. A moth to the flame, and all that. Martin presses another quick kiss to his face, this time to his eyebrow, and then another to his temple.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight, right?” Jon mumbles into the space between them.

Martin hums in response, a noise that Jon feels in his own chest. “I hope so,” he lands on. “Crowds don’t scare me as much these days, and my coworkers are nice, I promise. And I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I thought they might be bigots.”

Jon glances up at him, his eyes soft and dark. “I know,” He says softly. As much as people make him nervous sometimes, as much as he’s honestly a bit terrified to so openly defy gender stereotypes at a party, he knows he’ll be alright as long as he has Martin beside him. “I trust you.”

Martin ducks his head to hide the truly smitten expression that crosses his face, and gently presses his lips to Jon’s cheek, the bridge of his nose, and then his other cheek, closer to his eye, leaving a small trail of speckled affection across his face, like stars in a constellation.

“We’re going to be okay,” He speaks quietly, almost saying the words into Jon’s cheek. “They’re going to think you’re beautiful and you’re going to get to talk about books, and we’re going to be okay.”

“Promise?” Jon breathes, voice laced with humor, and something much, much deeper. A relief that can’t quiet yet be trusted, a relief that still cuts like a knife. It’s a fear he’ll carry with him for awhile, maybe for the rest of his life, but it’s one that Martin can assuage, one he can learn to live with.

Martin kisses the faded scar on Jon’s chin, just under his lip, one of many marks that detailed their descent into the clutches of evil, smoothed over with soft lips and a promise.

“I promise.” He says.

#I DID ONE!!!! :D #fic #jonmartin #the magnus archives #tma fic #kisses prompts #🥰🥰🥰 they're gay #mossy speaks #my writing #nonbinary jonathan sims #gnc/nonbinary jon

68 notes · View notes

all-about-seggs · 5 years ago

Text

Naughty & Not Nice :

Rating : ❌ 18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Timeskip! Bokuto Kotaro x female reader

Word count : 1.6K

Warnings : Shower sex, Semi-public sex, cunnilingus, ass eating? (If there is a word for it please let me know, I'm an idiot), unprotected vaginal sex, established relationship, everybody's horny.

A/n: Bokuto is usually babiee but not here. I'm gonna make up for the lack of filth with this one👍🏼

P.s. this fic made me realise I'm better at writing porn without plot because you'll be able to see how much I struggled with making this a meaningful story rather than just random fucking༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

It never failed you amaze you how much of a bigshot your himbo boyfriend had become. The high ceilings of the gym appeared never-ending just like the trail of volleyballs being smacked from side to side as you walked into the National team’s training area. Looking around one more time, you do a double check of the gigantic space to spot your hyperactive and simple minded fool. It wasn’t a difficult task to begin with considering his need to stand out no matter where he went but even with all the activities going around you the gym felt oddly quite without the usual chirping of Bokuto.

In the corner, you saw a deflated boyfriend, pouting as he yelled something about taking a shower to cool down. Having assessed the situation, you figured that if you wanted to have a happy evening together after so many weeks of hair on fire busy workdays, you had to come up with a way to lift his spirits. Luckily it was never a difficult task, especially for you.

Now that you managed to enter the private shower room, you thought rationally about your plan. Going in the shower stall to give Bokuto a naked surprise seemed hot and all but it had waaaay too many risks and it was totally reckless, your train of thought kept going in the negative slash realistic direction but your hands didn’t deter as you kept on undressing yourself in haste, shoving all your cloths in your bag and putting it aside in a corner.

The broad shoulders and well knit muscles of his body even made his silhouette ten times hotter than any other guys you’d ever seen, the steam coming off from the shower only added to the heat rising inside you. Steeling your nerves you enter the space already cramped by the herculean built of your boyfriend Not wasting another second you softly pressed your naked body on his, earning a questioning Yelp from the male.

“ WOAH- w- wait! I have a girlfr-“

“SUSHH -I AM your girlfriend idiot!”, Cutting him off you quickly turned him around to face you. All his protests died in his mouth when he saw your naked form on full display, even if it was his body that resembled some Greek god that you were too starstruck to remember the name of.

“I heard you wanted to cool down, but I suppose that won’t be happening now” turning the shower off, you stare at him. With a dazed look Bkuto raises one hand and touched your hips, feeling you up a little as if checking whether he’s dreaming or not.

“ Y/n! What are you- wait no- why are you here?! It’s the guys shower room!”, his hushed panic was adorable but what’s more amazing is his inability to take a hint until everything is spelled out.

“ Well I’m here so we can get a head start on our evening”, trailing one seductive finger down his defined abs, you give him your sexiest upturned eyes, punctuating your sentence with a firm squeeze of his balls. A few seconds pass, leaving you in wonder if he’s still gonna argue but the very next moment, his confused face takes on a look seriousness making his already sharp features seem downright animalistic.

Bokuto turns you around abruptly, bringing your warm face flush against the cool tiles of the wall, kneeling down, he gently parts your ass cheeks to give it’s hole a smooth lick all the way to your other sopping hole beneath. He gives your ass a few more licks before his hands starts fingering your aching pussy. Two long and thick digits enters you, the stretch making you moan as his fingers pushes in and out relentlessly while his mouth bite down your ass cheeks firmly. His teeth probably left marks by the time he finished sucking on the flesh, you bury your ass further down his face, wanting to feel more of his tongue on any one of your hole.

He finger fucks you while eating your ass at the same time humming softly like he’s devouring a five course meal. The uninhibited moans from falling from your mouth ricochets off of the bathroom walls only urged Bokuto to continue his ministrations. Knees shaking your first orgasm of the night washed over you until you’re shuddering, making it a necessity for your boyfriend to get up from his sitting position and take you in his strong muscular arms.

He lifts you, coming up face to face you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the tiny shower room, this was the quietest you’ve ever seen him. Usually when the two of you are doing it, Bokuto is always the one praising you, asking you whether he’s making you feel good or not, his silence indicated that the next few hours are gonna be rough for your pussy but you’ll definitely enjoy every second of it. You let him carry you towards the small bench just outside the shower stall, the risk of being found out doubled but the heat inside your body was far from over.

Placing you on the low surface he pressed your thighs against your chest and settled himself in between them he gave your wet cunt a few hard sucks , with his palms holding your legs firmly in place he lapped at your juices for until you begged him to fill you up.

“I hope you’re ready y/n….. I can’t promise if I can be gentle today”, his growled out, stroking his erection in his palm. It already looked so hard, it was getting physically painful to have pussy empty when you had something so delicious right in front of you. It didn’t mattered if you tore you half, the lust took over your mind the moment you saw his toned body that practically spelled ‘fuck me’ in all caps at that.

“you don’t have to…… so please wreck me like you usually do”,with one final nod from you, Bokuto pushed his entire length inside you pussy with ease, the slick from your previous orgasm making it easier from his aching cock to slide in and out. His starting pace was brutal, balls slapping your ass along with the squelching sound of his member drilling into you filled the entire room. But the most erotic sounds? Those were coming from your boyfriend’s mouth as kept fucking you, the bench creaking with each powerful thrust from his hips.

Your already sensitive cunt reached its peak a lot sooner than you imagined but it wasn’t going to be your last either so you let yourself go, enjoying the euphoric feeling to the fullest while Bokuto railed you through it. Your now clenched pussy added more pressure on his cock, pulling him closer to the edge as well. You could feel the cum pooling right below your ass when the hot blooded male lifted you up in the heat of the moment. His throbbing cock still inside you he took your quivering body to the nearest wall, your body wrapped itself around him as he kept up with thrusts without stopping.

Cock twitching, it was obvious he was near, his long awaited orgasm made his entire body tense up as he cums inside your cunt. The warm thick fluid drips down from where you two are attached, but the blissful feeling of being so spent made the both of you blank out until it passed away. After the both of you caught your breaths Bokuto put you back on the ground,

“You okay y/n?”, his concerned tone made you heart melt, even though you did this on your own accord he always worries about being too rough.

“I’m okay Kou, don’t worry but I think we should clean up before anyone sees us with our asses hanging out”, with a few more reassuring words you both took an actual shower this time and hurriedly dressed up before getting out of the bathroom. Just as you were about to feel accomplished on successfully pulling your moody boyfriend out of his emo modes again his fidgety behaviour caused to ask him what’s wrong.

“ I can’t wait till we get home babe”, his confession spoken with a pout wasn’t that out of place but it was because you couldn’t wait that you had sex in the shower room in the first place. Who were you kidding though, it’s a given that there is no such thing as just a round 1 with the ball of energy that you were dating. Besides it’s not lie you weren’t carving him,

“Okay. Lets do it a lot when we get home!”, The matter of fact answer definitely did it’s job if your previous fucking didn’t.

“Then you need to conserve your energy,” exclaiming that Bokuto picked you up bridal style, eyes shining with a new light. Despite your protests he carried you out in his arms, only to find a grossed out and scowling Sakusa shooting daggers in your direction from across the gym.

Never one to talk a lot, the curly haired teammate’s expression made it clear you two ‘did’ got caught and by the worst person ever. It’d be understandable if he never went to that shower room again but your embarrassment was cut off when Bokuto started sprinting towards the door. To any bystanders your shenanigans would probably be annoying but as you exited the building all you could hear was the cheering and goodbyes of all the people who were used to it.

The wonderful friends who put up with your antics, the loving boyfriend who didn’t left a single opportunity to parade you around like the greatest treasure in the world and the growing darkness of the night that brought so many salacious promises were all that you needed to call this a good day.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu bokuto #Bokuto Kotaro #bokuto x reader #smut #bokuto koutaro #bokuto #hq #hq!!#hq!! smut

104 notes · View notes

honey-makki · 5 years ago

Text

Sorry

Characters: Haiba Lev X Fem!Reader Summary: After talking to your father on the phone, Lev wants to help you unlearn unhealthy coping mechanisms. Warnings: family issues, allusions to abuse, bad childhoods, abusive language Song: seven- taylor swift Genre: hurt-> fluff Word Count: 1.7k+ A/N: This is about a rough childhood and growing from that. It’s deeply personal and could very well be triggering to people. I wanted to write something about the value of having a support system without undermining the work an individual has to do personally.

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

The holidays are generally a joyous time of year, full of reflection on your growth, sweet traditions with friends, and time spent with family. You adore the yearly gift exchange that you and Lev host in your shared apartment. Wreath cookies fresh out of the oven, hot cocoa in everyone’s mugs and silly pajamas.

The gifts were never serious, ranging from bacon toothpaste to a copy of Flubber (which Lev would argue is a fantastic movie, but that's besides the point) to a unicorn mug. Laughter floating around the house as people switch gifts and mosey around snacking on food and catching up with others.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing your friends, all gathered together and just existing. Nothing can crush your spirit other than a phone call from your father. “Y/N, we expect you will be home Thursday night for the family dinner and stay for breakfast with Grandma in the morning.”

You know it won't matter how you try to get out of it, years of attempts proved that you go, or it gets worse. The already tense relationship strung even tighter, harsh words thrown your direction, implications that were clearly false, guilt piling up until you can’t take it anymore and you head home for a visit.

You tried explaining to your father that you had an overnight shift at the hospital and wouldn’t be able to make it. Hearing laughter from your friends through the phone, he tears into you for “valuing their companionship more than the people who gave you everything.” You try to get a word in but he doesn’t stop.

Lev notices you’ve been gone for almost 20 minutes on a call and decides to check on you. He walks outside to see you, sitting on the snowy stoop. The scene breaks his heart and lights a fire in him. Seeing you crying into your knees, your father still spewing vicious words from the phone sitting at your side. Both of you can hear him clearly even though he isn’t on speaker, the venom of his voice is amplified through sheer anger.

In the coldest tone your silver haired boyfriend has ever used, “Y/N has to go now,” and hangs up on your confused father. He slides into a seated position next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder, cooing soothing nothings to you. His voice brings you back to earth a little, silently crying, rather than the gut wrenching sobs.

Voice raspy from overuse, “I-- I’m sor- sorry-- sorry you had to c-come check on m-m-me.”

“Angel, don’t worry. You have nothing to apologize for. I checked on you because I care about you, not because I felt obligated,” knowing you want to rebut, he continues “don’t talk, let your voice rest. Just let me tell you that I love you and I’m here for you for as long as you’ll have me.”

He pulls you onto his lap and holds you until you feel strong enough to go inside, watching the snowflakes fall together in the meantime. ------------ Lev knew that your childhood wasn’t the best. You never brought up him meeting your parents or visiting home for the weekend. You never joined in the conversations reminiscing about “the good ole days” stating rather that you were more than happy to live in this moment.

You always shot Lev a loving glance or gave him a peck on the cheek to show that you weren't being cheesy, but genuinely meant it.

You were never slow to tell him how much you loved him, lamenting the fact that he made you feel safe, like you truly had a home. He took your words to heart, but never really understood what you were implying until that night on the phone with your dad.

Everything seemed to fall into place, puzzle pieces of your life up until now finally fitting together in his mind. The way you looked relieved when he told you that he loved you, brushing off talking about you family despite loving seeing Alisa and his parents, how you mentioned being independent at an early age.

The way you repeatedly apologize over every tiny mishap from bumping into him in the hallway or spilling a glass of water. How when you have an argument, you put space and preferably a piece of furniture between you two. The way you flinched when you heard a man yelling, retreating into Lev’s arms reflexively.

He didn’t realize what he was seeing were coping mechanisms from abuse. Overapologizing for existing, always being ready to run if needed, anxiety, and the pavlovian physical reaction you have to loud noises.

How did he not see this before? -------- It became Lev’s one true intention to help you. He tracked and noticed what triggered your anxiety so he could remove or reduce them in your daily life, always trying to stay seated and relaxed whenever an argument occurred knowing that his imposing 6’3 figure makes the problem worse, never raising his voice, even in glee, not when he was playing video games.

You noticed he was acting a little different, but weren’t exactly sure where it came from. You had still avoided his questions after the party a few months back just brushing your dad’s behavior as a one time thing. Lev made it clear that you didn’t need to go visit them if you didn’t want to do so, and if you did, that he would be going with you. Not wanting you to face that alone.

Lev started going to therapy, wanting to make the idea normal. He talked about coping mechanisms he was learning to deal with stress, offering up these little nuggets of advice in a way that you could take them and avoid his questions until you were ready to talk.

It was almost 6 months after the night Lev talked to your dad on the phone that you broke down in his arms again.

----------- Your birthday was next week. When you got out of the shower after a double shift at the hospital, the first thing you saw on your revived phone was a voicemail from your dad. Lev already knew something was wrong by the whimper embedded in the way you called out to him from your bathroom.

You were never one to show emotions unless you wanted to express them, having learned that skill at a young age, but this time it broke through. The image of Lev opening the door with force that teetered between firm and tender, face contorted into concern, his body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat over his bare chest was the epitome of comfort.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your work out ses-”

“No. Y/N you do not need to apologize to me for existing, for feeling or for needing me. Ever. I love you so, so much and would do anything to make you realize that. To make you understand that.”

That confession is how you realized Lev already knew your secret. You didn’t have the ability to process that his past actions were intentional, trying to make you comfortable and grow as an individual. You can’t process that because the thought of someone knowing about your past brought you to tears.

You never wanted to seem broken, like damaged goods, someone with too much baggage to handle. It’s the whole reason you never told Lev even though you were planning on spending your life with him. You didn’t want to ruin that; to have him not pick up the pieces of your heart. Leaving you even more broken than you were before.

He knew that his love wouldn’t fix your heart in totality or immediately resolve bad habits, but he wanted to give you the support to get there. And right now, you needed him to hold you.

The warmth of his body encompassing yours as he moves you into a sitting position reduces the cold wave of worry that ran through your body. The coo of his gentle voice whispering words of adoration and pure unadulterated love into your ear brings you out of your head, grounding you in this moment.

To the only moment that matters. Moments with him, safe, tender, and full of support. When you gather yourself, you quietly walk him through your childhood. He patiently waits, not interrupting you but assuring you to take your time when you get choked up.

“Y/N, I want to make sure that you never feel like that again. I want to help you move forward.”

And he does just that. He watches you go to therapy and come back a little lighter, even on the bad days. Lev brings you a cup of tea when your anxiety gets too bad, always fast to remove you from situations that might be triggering. He is a constant companion and cheerleader for your transformation.

------

You stand in the nursery for your soon to be child with Lev. Basking in what the future holds for the two, no, three of you. Lev notices the wistful expression on your face as you seem lost in thought. “Hey, we will be fantastic parents. Our kid is going to know what love is and see it exemplified every day.” He cups your cheeks, staring into your eyes trying to see if you not only understand, but believe him.

“I know. Sorry, I’m just, It’s just a concern I have. I don’t want to be like-”

“Y/N. You would never emulate your childhood. I’ve seen you grow so much and become the most resilient and compassionate woman I know. You will be able to teach those things to our child. I have no doubts about that.” He punctuated his proclamation with a sweet kiss on the lips and a soft hug, accommodating for your belly which holds the future, not a repeat of the past.

Tags @ceo-of-daichi @roandtheroses @sugawara-sweetheart @iguessimastannow@laughingismorefun

#lev #lev haiba #lev haikyuu #haiba lev imagine #haiba lev #lev x you #lev x y/n #lev x reader #lev haiba x reader #lev haiba x you #haiba lev x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #hq!!#haikyuu!! imagines #kristen writes #folklore series

73 notes · View notes

seijch · 5 years ago

Text

➣ the fate of a blade has (and always will be) to live and live and live. whether or not they retain their memories is optional.

kuroo tetsurou + gender neutral!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

high fantasy au, angst

this fic is inspired by the video game xenoblade chronicles 2, but knowledge of that game is not needed to enjoy this fic :-) this fic also takes place in the same universe as my ushijima fic simple life, but the stories of both take place independently of each other !!

Wait.

Stop.

"Kuroo?"

You know him; of course you do. You'd recognize the sharp lines of his face from anywhere, any place, any time. You take his appearance in the same way one would thumb through the pages of their favorite book: with familiarity and all the care in the world.

He turns at the sound of his name, his gaze searching for a moment for the source of the sound. When it lands on you, your heart breaks.

He looks about the same as always, hair permanently disheveled and exactly as annoyingly attractive as you remember.

(He used to lord it over you when you'd admitted it to him. "Oh?" he'd asked, chin in his palm and a twinkle in his eye. You had wanted nothing more than for the ground beneath to swallow you whole.)

It's been almost a full year since you've seen him. You didn't think you'd get the chance to ever again.

"Do I know you?" he asks.

You did, you want to scream.

You did—

(Your eyes blink open for the first time. Well, not really; they've blinked thousands, millions of times before. This just marks the first time your eyes have opened to your current incarnation.

For a moment, you think you're seeing double, the girl you assume is responsible for awakening you shadowed by her doppelganger. Ah, you think. They must be identical twins.

Introductions are standard. They have to be, when all you've come into this life with is your name and the innate knowledge of your power. Such is the life of a blade, you suppose. You come into this world with one purpose, one goal: to serve your driver, the person who summons you.

Thankfully, your driver and her sister look nice enough, but their company does not, all scarred faces and scowls.

"Tough crowd, right?" a voice asks, low in your ear. You startle, whipping around to strike your would-be assailant. It's another blade, judging by the gem embedded in his chest and the vaguely unhuman look in his eyes. He holds his hands up in surrender, a playful grin on his face. "What a way to greet someone you've just met," he drawls. When your body relaxes, he offers his hand for you to shake. "I'm Kuroo. And as for this," he nods to the grim atmosphere of the camp, "you get used to it."

Niceties, it seems, are few and far between when your trade is entirely underground. Both your driver—and Kuroo's, whose driver is the mirror image of your own—were involved with the illegal dealing of core crystals, the very thing blades are summoned from.

You voice these concerns to Kuroo on your second night. "It took me a while to get used to it, too. Turns out our drivers aren't as morally corrupt as the rest of the crew." Blades tended to take after their drivers, their personality overlaid over the blade's to make each incarnation unique. "But hey," he rations, tossing a deep orange gem with one hand, "money makes the world go 'round, doesn't it?")

You did—

("You've got to try harder than that," he teases, the tip of his katana kissing the gem on your chest. "I was just starting to have fun, too." You hiss, ignoring the sting as you get up from where Kuroo's knocked you on your ass.

"Oh, I'll show you fun," you growl. He only smiles, dropping into a fighting stance as you pick up your weapon, a cannon drawing its projectiles from the ether energy in the air. You've long since learned that Kuroo is an opponent you can't hope to beat; there were a select few blades that were lauded throughout history for their power. Kuroo Tetsurou, wielder of the Chaos Uchigatana, happens to be one of them.

But that sure as hell won't stop you from trying.)

You did—

(The sparring sessions become routine, and you end up playing into Kuroo's hands every time. Each blow landed is an uphill battle against his strength, his skill.

Out of all the mornings and nights spent butting heads, you can only remember one instance where you come out on top.

Your breathing is hard, the cannon focused at his head. You'd tumbled into his lap at some point, but your head is hazy with the fog of victory. "I did it," you pant, chest heaving.

"After what?" he asks, as though he wasn't pinned to the ground. "How many losses did it take you, hm? Fifty? Eighty?" The real number—not like anyone was counting—is closer to ninety-seven. You wisely choose not to tell him that.

"You're not going to take this from me," you tell him as your breathing evens out, crooking a finger at him. Only then do you notice the space—or lack thereof—between you. You scramble to get up, offering him a hand. It's warm. Calloused. Fits perfectly in your own.

You try not to think about it.)

You did—

("What is this, Kuroo?" You're the only two awake, up for the last shift of guard duty while the rest of camp snoozes under the night sky. The only light around is the campfire Yaku set up hours ago. It burns low, crackling enough to cut through the silence.

"What is what?"

"Don't play dumb with me," you mutter from his shoulder, a bit muffled. "We both know you're smarter than that." His shoulders rise a bit, like a wave cresting and falling as he exhales from his nose in a half-laugh.

"Let's say," he deflects, "one of our drivers dies tomorrow."

“How morbid. Are you talking about my driver?”

“Why would I be talking about your driver? It could be either of us. That’s the point of a hypothetical situation. It’s not likely to happen.”

“You tell me, Mr. Ninety-Seven.” You’re sure he’ll take the compliment, say something about how his total number of wins against you has gone up into the hundreds, but he surprises you with what he says next.

“Don’t pretend like we’re not equals.” When you huff, he exhales, refocusing.

"Let me finish. Let's say one of our drivers dies tomorrow. One of us returns to our crystal. When they're reawakened," he does his best to crane his neck, trying to make eye contact, "we won't remember this. We won't remember us."

"Yeah." It's a fact of life; blades only live as long as their drivers do. They return to the conscious, corporeal plane once they're reawakened. It's something you know, something you'll always know, through this life and the next. You're sure there are countless people, blades and drivers alike, that have been wiped clean from the slate of your memory. "And?"

"Is it so bad," he says, barely audible, like he's trying to convince himself to believe it rather than persuade you into agreeing, "to be so selfish with your present because you'll never remember the past and aren't promised a future?")

You did—

(The next job ends in an ambush from some of the competition.

You're sure the exertion will weigh on you later, but right now, you relish in it. You've long since passed the point of being one with your driver. The ether bond between you causes you both to glow golden with the raw energy being used, and she handles your cannon with ease. They say that it's during battles that the lines that separate driver and blade are the most muddled, and right now, you know it to be true. You’re certain that you two can take on whatever comes, that you’re on top of the world and nothing will take you down.

So you do just that, the cannon's shots of ether echoing into the night, against the rock walls of the cliffs surrounding the valley.

The dust clears. The euphoria of battle begins to seep out of your bones.

Your driver's twin sister—Kuroo's driver—lies broken and bloody on the dry grass.

"No," your driver sobs, her eyes glassy in a way you've never seen in all your months together, "you said it was us against the world." Her voice cracks, "You said-"

"I know what I said." Kuroo's driver has always been the more rational twin, hasn’t she? When she smiles, her teeth and gums are stained red. "I meant it. Still do." Her words are punctuated with a gurgle bringing with it a bubble of blood that pops on her lips. "It always will be. Now run."

"What-"

"Reinforcements are coming!" Yaku shouts, out of breath as he runs in your direction. You're not sure if it's because of exhaustion or because his driver's life force is ebbing away, the ocean itself receding in time for low tide.

"I can't leave you behind," your driver cries, tears running down her cheeks unbidden. Kuroo is fighting them off by himself, a speck barely recognizable in the distance. He's winning, too—for now.

A blade with a driver on their last legs won't last. The realization is heavy as it drops to the pit of your stomach, like a pebble creating ripples in a pond.

"You have to. What's the first thing we learned on the job?"

It's one of the first things you learned about the job, too: when things go south, it’s time to bail out.

You're told to run and not look back.

You and your driver—you're sure it's a trait inherited from her—have never been good listeners.

When you chance a glance behind you, you're just in time to see Kuroo and Yaku's core crystals fall to the ground as their driver takes her last breath.)

You did.

(Life is dull after that. Colors are no longer as vibrant, the excitement that came with each day long gone. You wonder if that excitement was something that came with Kuroo alone.

Gone are the sparring sessions, the late nights spent on watch duty. You know your driver has it worse; she's despondent half the time, enough for the crew to leave her to fend for herself.

"We have enough money," you tell her one afternoon. The coins clink softly as you draw the strings of her purse closed. "Let's buy a place somewhere. I hear Uraya is nice this time of year. Would you like that?"

"Yeah," she replies. The firecracker you’d come to know and love has fizzled out. "I'd like that."

You pretend to not notice the locket she clutches close to her chest when the nightmares get the best of her. When you'd first awakened, Kuroo had been the one to tell you the story behind it: it was the first thing the two of them bought with the money from their first job.

You wonder where Kuroo and Yaku are now, eyes trained on the view of the sky from the window of the inn. You wonder if they've returned to the land of the living.

But thinking like that won't get you anywhere; after all, even if they were, it wouldn't be the Kuroo and Yaku you know.)

His eyes are guarded, entirely without recognition. In the end, he was right. (And you're sure that if Kuroo—your Kuroo, not this Kuroo that stands before you—was still around, this would be yet another victory held over your head. You find it a little annoying that he's still winning, even now.)

In the end, you are the one left with the memories. The weight of them is enough to bring you to your knees, to drag you into the depths with no chance of ever seeing the light again. Every fiber of your body wants to reach out to him, to ask "Don't you remember me?"

But you've had your share of selfishness.

Your driver is waiting for you to return with the groceries. (She's taken to cooking these days. She's no good at it, but the humming you hear from the kitchen on good days makes eating her awful dishes more than worth it.)

You swallow, but it does nothing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

"No," you smile up at him. The edges of it are a bit too strained to be genuine, and he notices. You’ve known him long enough that you can read his tells, the slight narrow of his eyes when he picks up on something poorly concealed. He’s perceptive, as always. You suppose some things never change.

(Your Kuroo knew you. He knew you well enough that the slightest change in mood would tip him off. But then again, that feels like ages and years and lifetimes ago.

Now, you’re just a stranger that’s stopped him in the middle of the street.)

"You don't."

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenario #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo scenario #kuroo imagine #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo fic #haikyuu fic #kuroo x you #au:xc2 #i was also not supposed to write this but here we are!!! i actually like it a lot but mayb thats bc its #1) my comfort character kuroo #2) my comfort genre angst #comfort in the second case meaning im most at home writing it LMAO #me: i should diversify my masterlist its not like i dont have fluff wips #me: angst brainrot #anyway im scheduling this bc idk when ppl will be awake and im working in the morning tmrw but!!#two fics in two days .... who is she #hope this shows up in the tags 🕺🏻#its rlly hard to tell but kuroyaku are now kenmas blades ... somehow LMAO #maybe ill talk abt it some more Who Knows #reading this back ... maybe you DO need knowledge of the game #my bad

71 notes · View notes

monsterthorst · 5 years ago

Note

Could we get Jaxon meeting his human mate for the first time? Perhaps she’s a bit of a small thing working at a bar, bringing drinks to tables and typically being harassed. Despite her size though, she may be sharp and witty, not having a problem with much of the harassment that came with her work but in no way tolerating being degraded. Perhaps she uses her wit to bring them down a few notches or she’s stronger than she looks. Up to you.

Dude, Jaxon got SO much more attention than I EVER could have anticipated. I mean, just look at his notes versus any of my other monster boys, like DANG IN THE HUNDREDS???? I’d never even done a dialogue prompt before! I think it was the ‘werewolf boyfriend’ tag, if I’m gonna be honest, hahah. Not gonna lie, though, the boy’s a snack. So yes please????? Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? Oh, did I mention Jaxon’s half-Hispanic? No?? Oop, have fun.

Jaxon- The Meeting

The Red Dahlia, a local bar named after its ginger spitfire of an owner Miss Dahlia, sat in the middle of a gravel parking lot a handful of miles from town. It brought in all manner of creature and, according to a certain utterly baffled reporter, was a “breeding ground for drunks, lechers, and perverts”. Jaxon chuckled at the memory, his wide palms tucked within the depths of his jackets leather pockets as he stared up at the flashing red neon sign, swinging dangerously from rusted iron chains in the wind. He’d been there when the ‘reporter’(blogger, actually) had come into the bar, working on an article about ‘local, underrated hotspots’; she’d come in, head held high and brown, hair-sprayed curls bouncing, red lipstick so crimson it had called him a peasant, and eyebrows as thin as Miss Dahlia’s patience. She was a target from the moment she walked in.

Miss Dahlia had greeted the middle-aged housewife, a wide smile across her full lips, and the entire bar erupted into outrageous laughter when the woman introduced herself as ‘Karren’(two ‘r’s, she’d elaborated for a Miss Dahlia who hadn’t asked). Karren loathed every inch of the Red Dahlia, insults and back-handed compliments lashed harmlessly through the air, and, when Knash(a local, grungy gnoll with a wicked grin and a short muzzle) grabbed a handful of her bottom, she‘d stormed out with an unintelligible screech. Jaxon missed it.

He’d left the small town, Arrowway as it was known on maps, around a year ago and he’d only just gotten back in town a few seconds earlier; his motorcycle engine rumbling like distant thunder and pressing hotly against his long legs. He’d been in New Mexico, chasing down hunters and beasts alike and digging up any information he could find on his father. Aaron Bluewater, Jaxon’s dad, had been missing for months; the police declared him dead and the investigation had stopped, but that didn’t mean Jaxon was ready to. Nowhere close.

A rowdy group of girls burst from the double doors of the wooden building, laughing and stumbling across the parking lot in their stilettos. A black-haired fae, dressed in what Jaxon would simply call a wasted fish net, caught sight of the sun-tanned male and hollered across the way at him, “Wh-hello, han’some! Wan’ join ‘s?”

“No, thank you,” Jaxon couldn’t help the grin that tumbled across his face as he tucked his thoughts away and approached the old bar. As flattering as the slurred compliment may have been, Jaxon furrowed his eyebrows at the red-faced girls and kept his hands tucked in his pockets, “You have a ride home, right?”

A blonde harpy girl spoke then, her shimmering top see-through and her pink lip gloss smudged, “Why don’t you be our ride home, hmm?”

“I’m not into narcolepsy, but thank you.” Jaxon grinned, his canines illuminated by the flashing red ambiance of the ‘Red Dahlia: Pub and Club’ sign, “You girls call in a taxi, yeah? You’ll get someone killed driving around like that.”

The girls fell into a stunned silence and, as one of them whispered ‘Yeah, I-I can call’, Jaxon pushed opened the bar doors and stepped into the pulsing, Latin music. Jaxon ran a nervous hand through his thick, black hair and cast his light blue eyes across the familiar space, as though he were looking for something, before he took a quick seat at the empty table closest to the door. He noticed a little, plastic menu in front of him and he raised his thick brows curiously. Taking it in his hands, he read over the contents; all of the drink options were as he remembered, with a few new, interesting concoctions listed, but now there was a small section for food, many of which he could recall from his early childhood. A grin swept across his face and a nostalgic warmth fell across his chest as he read over the menu.

“Hello!” Jaxon nearly jumped from his seat, shoulders instinctually squaring and his curved claws peeking forward in anticipation. You stood before him and the warmth in his chest crawled up across his throat and burned at his face. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!”

Jaxon, for the first time in a long time, couldn’t formulate the proper, English words and a gentle, “Tan hermosa…”

“Hmm?” You intoned curiously, your silken hair tumbled across your forehead and cheeks as you slightly turned your head up to him.

Jaxon’s mouth went dry and English failed him again, “Nada. I mean-I… Nothing. Sorry, you’re fine. Wait, no-I mean, yes, but… Thank you.” Jaxon whispered quietly as he forced himself back down into his seat, he cupped his forehead and groaned softly, “I’m sorry. I’m just… Tired.”

“I completely understand! I feel the exact same way too, sometimes words are just so hard.” You spoke sympathetically, a giggle punctuating your sentence. The sound, unsurprisingly, did not help Jaxon piece his thoughts together better. You introduced yourself politely, the sound of your name echoing in Jaxon’s head for a few moments after wards, “So, what can I get for you, sir?”

Jaxon fumbled with the menu for a moment, reading over the laminated words(despite the fact he already knew exactly what he wanted), “Uhmm, I-I’ll just have a Whiskey Sour, please.”

“Ohh, interesting choice. I was expecting an Old Fashioned. Would you like anything to eat? We just recently added some things to our menu.” You reached over the table, pressing a plain nail against the bold-printed ‘Appetizers’ at the bottom of the small paper. “I personally like the Cheesy Beef Empanadas, they come with Sofrito sauce. The best you’ll ever have in your life.”

Jaxon nervously ran a hand across the baby hairs along the back of his neck and cast you a gentle grin, “The best?”

“Scouts Honor.” You ran your fingers over your heart in an ‘x’ and your smile made Jaxon’s chest feel tight.

“Alright, I’ll have a Whiskey Sour and an order of Cheesy Beef Empanadas.” Jaxon extended the menu out for you to take and he hoped you couldn’t see the way his hands shook slightly under your gaze.

Whether or not it was intentional, when your fingers ran across the back of Jaxon’s hand, a shiver coursed up his spine and his skin tingled where you’d touched him. “Coming right up.”

“Thanks,” Jaxon whispered quietly as he watched you stride away from him. You wore a long-sleeved, black shirt with a red Dahlia sewn into the back, a matching pencil skirt, and dark black stockings tucked into your zip-up wedges. Your hair shone in red-tinted lights of the bar and brushed across your neck and face as you moved. You were beautiful and, much to his dissatisfaction, Jaxon wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

An elf, as white-haired and lean and feminine as any elf he’d ever seen before, watched you lecherously as you approached his one chair table. Rather than letting you pass by, the elf stood up quickly, his oily hands closed around your back and arms as he pulled you against his shimmering, leather shirt. Jaxon’s blood roared in his ears and he felt a sharp pressure growing in the beds of his fingernails and dancing along his canines.

“What a pretty, little thing I’ve found.” He slurred into your face, inching himself closer to you with each word, “What say we get out of here, doll? I’ll have you screaming ‘til dawn.”

You grimaced at the reek of alcohol on his breath, placing your hands against his shoulders and attempting to politely push him away, “No, thank you. Now let me go.”

“Oh-ho-ho! Mmmm, no, I don’t think so. I’m not quite finished with you yet, human.” Silence fell over the patrons of the bar and club as they all turned from their drinks and rambunctious stories to glare at the outsider man-handling you.

A bouncing cackle echoed across the hushed space and Jaxon recognized Knash, just as grungy as he’d been the last time the young man had seen him over a year ago, tucked in the corner amidst the center of a young pack of gnolls. “I’d do what the little lady says now, ya’hear? A mean left hook, that’n.”

“Excuse me.” Jaxon found his voice as he heaved himself upright, stalking towards the elf as his eyes burst into life with blue flame, “The young lady asked you to stop. So stop before I make you.”

Your startled expression found Jaxon’s glare, and the gentle furrow of your eyebrows and the frown across the curve of your lips sent a scorching wave of anger straight through him. The elf grabbed your face then, cupping your chin in his long fingernails and pressing your cheek against his own, “Oh? Is she your girlfriend? What sort of magic could a mutt like you have possibly gotten your grimy, little hands on to-“

A fist drove itself upwards into the delicate curve of the elf’s jaw, crushing his teeth into his tongue and sending him to the ground in a pitiful ‘thud’ of leather and Axe body spray. You uncoiled your hand and shook your fingers loosely, eyes a blaze of color as you glared down at the unconscious pervert. “I can tolerate a lot of things, sir, but the insulting of my customers is not one of them.”

Laughter erupted throughout the bar, noise echoing loudly between the walls as hands pounded on the tables and hollers rang through the air. Jaxon turned to you, his anger dissipating from his system as an impressed amusement began to fill its place, “Are you-?”

“What do you borrachos think you are doing!?” A heavy ‘thwack’ echoes through the air as a wooden bat slammed against the bar top. Miss Dahlia herself, all five feet and two inches of her, cocked her hip as she swore around her cigar. Her beautiful caramel eyes caught the blue reflection of Jaxon’s gaze and her full lips split into a wide smile, “¡JAXITO!”

“Hola, Tía Dahlia.” Jaxon grinned bashfully at the childhood nickname, but his heart grew warm at the sound of her voice all the same.

Miss Dahlia, dropping the bat and extinguishing the cigar in a crystal ashtray along the bar top, gathered the thick, faux-fur bottom of her red nightgown and hurried around the bar counter. Pausing as her eyes fell down upon the crumpled mass of elf before she turned a firm stare up at you, “Again? ¡Está es la tercera vez está semana!”

“Lo sé, ¡pero él fue siendo grosero!” You answered Miss Dahlia quickly, your Spanish was better than Jaxon had expected(considering the fact that he was unaware you spoke any at all) and listened in amusement as you went back and forth with his spitfire Aunt.

Miss Dahlia began to wave her hands dramatically; gesturing between herself, you, the bar, the unconscious elf, Jaxon, and anything else she could jerk her fingers at quick enough. “¡Eres imposible, estás tan cerca-! KNASH!!”

“Yes’m?” Knash jumped to his flat feet, scurrying forward until the thick fur on his chest brushed against Miss Dahlia’s shoulder. Jaxon narrowed his eyes at the action.

“Take this puta and drop him outside, por favor!” Miss Dahlia’s words blurred together as she wildly gestured towards the front door. Knash nodded, his muzzle brushing across Jaxon’s aunts shoulder and the black-haired male clenched his fist with a frown.

“I’ll go with him.” You whispered quietly, pointing quickly over your shoulder before you helped Knash pull the unconscious elf to his feet and drag him to the front doors.

Jaxon turned towards his aunt, watching as her expression turned from an angry exhaustion to a wide grin. She cupped Jaxon’s cheeks and cooed endearments at him in Spanish, they made his tan face flush and eventually he took her small hands into his own, “Tía. She was only defending herself, she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Aye, I know, mí sabrino. But,” Miss Dahlia paused for a moment as she shook her head, rubbing her manicured thumbs over the back of Jaxon’s hand, “the police system is not what it was when you left us. They’ve all fallen into the pockets of politicians and businessmen. I’ve had to buy my way out of three lawsuits because of those bastardos!”

Jaxon furrowed his brows at the news, but he remained unsurprised. Their little town had been free of corruption and swindling for a long time, it was bound to fall to greed sooner or later. He only hated that it had all come sooner rather than later. The door jingled back open and Jaxon turned to watch as you and Knash slunk back into the bar. Knash lumbered right up to Miss Dahlia’s side and, with a scowl, Jaxon watched his aunt rub the top of the gnolls head. “Okay, what’s going on here? Knash, are you dating my aunt!?”

“Well-“

Knash began to explain himself with a bashful tilt of his head, but Miss Dahlia cut him short, “Ohh, Jaxito, I was going to tell you, but it just never came up!”

“Meaning you weren’t going to say anything at all, huh?” Jaxon shook his head with a sigh before he pointed a finger at his old friend, “You better not pull anything funny with my tía, got that?”

Knash chuckled, running a large paw along the back of his neck as he gave Jaxon’s aunt a not-so-subtle look of adoration, “Yeah, I got it… Jaxito.”

“Don’t you-“ Knash threw back his head with a rambunctious laugh as he bounced off to rejoin his pack.

A gentle hand pressed against the back of Jaxon’s arm and he turned to meet your mesmerizing gaze once again. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jaxon whispered quietly down at you. Your head fell just below the curve of his shoulder and he found himself lost in the way you looked up at him.

“Thank you. For standing up for me, I mean.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before you clasped your hands together in front of your waist and fought the blush growing across your nose.

Jaxon smiled, acutely aware of his aunts surprised gaze scouring across your faces, and opened his mouth to respond before you interrupted him, “Oh! Your drink and food! I completely forgot, let me-“

“Wait!” Jaxon wrapped his hand around your waist as you began to dart away from his side. You turned back to him quickly, studying his warming face, “Actually, uhmm. Forget the food. Can-can I walk you to your car?”

“Oh… I, uhh, I have to help Miss Dahlia close the bar.”

“Aye, forget about it today, girly.” Miss Dahlia interjected your explanation, shooing the both of you away with a cocked hip and a grin. “Go on. The Lord above knows you need a date.”

“Miss Dahlia!” You exclaimed, burying your face in your hands with a laugh.

Jaxon cupped your hands in his palms and pulling them away from your burning face, “So, is that a yes, then?”

Jaxon will never forget the look on your face- the brewing grin, the gentle glimmer in your eyes, the soft blush across your cheek- as you said “Yes.”

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Spanish is not my first language so I hope the phrase I used are correct! I hope you enjoyed this despite the delay. I’ve really started developing Jaxon and his background, I think there’s definitely more to come with him. WINK WONK

Translations:

Tan hermosa- “So beautiful”

Nada- “Nothing”

Borrachos- “Drunkards(masculine)”

Jaxito- “Little Jaxon”(endearing term used for children)

Hola, Tía Dahlia- “Hello, Aunt Dahlia”

¡Está es la tercera vez está semana!”- “That’s the third time this week!”

¡Lo sé, ¡pero él fue siendo grosero!- “I know, but he was being rude!”

¡Eres imposible, estás tan cerca!- “You’re impossible, you’re this close-”

Puta- “Pussy”

Por favor- “Please”

Mí sabrino- “My nephew”

#jaxon #werewolf #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #monster x human #monster x reader #creature x reader #creature boyfriend #creature x human #monster boyfriend #sfw #handsome man

304 notes · View notes