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bemylord · 3 years

Text

↠ toji with a virgin s/o ↞

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

warnings: nsfw, aged up, size kink [?], oral [fem!receiving], virgin reader, first time, lost of virginity, praising, toji calls himself daddy, grammar errors.

word counter: 3.2k

rq: I would like to request a oneshot? a hc would be appreciated too though. Toji with a virgin gf who can’t even make herself cum? Just how he would like to destroy her :)

butler's remark: (◕‿◕) hello lord, i'm back with an oneshot with toji being tremendously tender with his lover for the first time. in addition, reader is a citizen. sorry, i did it soft, bc i think toji will super-extra-super soft for the first time with his s/o, only for the first. i hope you'll like that, thanks for the request ;)

disclaimer: everything you read is purely my opinion - any detail, sketch, or event is a figment of my imagination.

you've been an ordinary citizen and had never planned to date a sorcerer or someone close to this specialty. you ain't cowardly, merely as you were thinking you'll marry a simple man and will have kids with him, and die in one day like lovebirds.

you had never considered yourself being stuck in a relationship with a sorcerer killer.

you were overworked, virtually sleeping as were walking in the empty street, dreaming to get home as soon as possible, to feel the silk sheets against your back. the area where your office was located had little street lighting, although, you hadn't felt the anxiety of being robbed or something worse. the day went lingeringly and horrible due to the boss who declared you as a temporary deputy, piled you up with a stack of papers.

but, this is life, anything might happen. all of a sudden, you overheard something behind you but as you looked back - there was nobody, as soon as you turn your head to the starting position, you saw a young, skinny man who is holding a knife in his hand.

'hmm~ look who's here, a young, gorgeous lady..' he said with his disgusting, lewd voice, coming closer to you. 'would you mind playing with me? don't be shy or els-'

you have a perky personality, no doubt, but because of how hard the day was, you had one option - run for the hills. before you could do any movements as if hit the man or run away, something prompt hit him, like a swift meteorite that you couldn't see. a cloud of dust grew around you and the man, so you hide your face in the elbow curve, covering your mouth with another hand.

as soon as the dust had settled, in front of you opened up on the view of an adult man. he was high, had an athletic, broad-shouldered, pretty impressive figure. your savior held the blade in one hand, flopped on his back.

'he ran away like a coward. don't worry, girl, you saved, thanks to me' he laughed, he stroked himself on the shoulder, as were about to leave the dead body.

'no i'm not! i'd have protected myself on my own'

you refuted his smugness, watching as he slowly moves his torso in your way, flaunting his outlining muscles through the fabric of the black t-shirt. his complacent eyes and the sharp scar over the right side of the mouth on the edge of his lips. you took a deep breath, continuing on your path as he isn't standing there, not hadn't protected you.

'you're too weak to beat even him, if not me, you'd be-'

'i am stronger as i may look'

he giggled, in a flash stood in front of you, bending over to your face, by finger tugs your face up to look at him directly in eyes, smirked.

'are you sure, girl?'

those green, almost emerald, but cold eyes looked directly into yours as two faces were as closed as you could kiss his lips.

'i'll walk you home'

'i don't want to, and anyway, maybe you're his partner in crime, leave me alon-'

previous to you had finished your phrase, he threw your tiny body on his shoulder, leisurely walking, better say, carrying you home. you beat his back, softly reminiscent of a parody of the word 'let me go, moron, i can walk by myself'

'tch, fine, idiot,' he deliberately shrugged his shoulder to close your mouth as heard the name you had given him. 'by the way, what's your name or you prefer the name idiot?' you said sarcastically.

'for you it's toji'

well.

as a result of your crawl and also being talkative when clearly you shouldn't be, you ended up being in a relationship with a man, who'd obviously fuck you on the first date, as it may count as a 'date', anywhere-anytime, by the way.

although you wouldn't ever say he isn't hot or sexy, conversely, you willingly allow him to breed, precisely you'd beg toji to breed you on the straightaway on the cervix, but for one thing.

you're a virgin.

hilariously - it's true. nothing bad to be in your age a virgin, but if you weren't dating toji it'd fine: his dirty jokes and lustful eyes which are maddening you insane, also his fucking athletic body which is outlining through the t-shirt or white cotton shirt [he wear it once] you thought he did it purposely: he knew your secret, undoubtedly could sniff your chaste nature as if you can emit fragrance.

on the second date, it had been nine days since you got acquainted with him, as you moved in with him. toji was exceedingly obsessed with every step of yours - he followed you from the work, in the mall or market, for your security and control every guy who'd be close to you.

although, you couldn't hide your addiction - he's a drug you should be careful with or you might be addicted as if you ain't. he isn't wearing pants in home, walking in front of you solely in underwear. he could walk from the shower in a terry towel wrapped around his torso as he buries his hands in his dark hair mess it up.

'what are you looking at, girl?'

you couldn't take your eyes off his bulging..

'you. just you. i'm gonna cook dinner, something.. special?'

'eggs, baby'

fushiguro put hands above the door frame, exhale and tensed every muscle, narrowing predatory eyes as you were the extraction he was target for. you're laying on his king size bed [lol i'm sorry i'm out], wondering is everything he has gotten measured in king size as he interupted your reflection by putting the knee on the edge of the bed.

'mine. in your pussy'

as if you're bewitched - you couldn't talk, just contemplate as he leisurely moves towards you. you couldn't contravene as he tugs your face to ogle in your absentminded eyes as you're avoiding his gaze, looking at the ceiling or door or even window. not. at. his. bulge.

your heart had stuck in your throat when toji ran his hand under his shirt, certainly, he has a kink of dominion, when he suddenly stopped. despite of your uncertainty and timid of subsequent play, you looked at his emerald eyes as he licks his lips with a tongue.

'are you sure, baby girl? i mean, it's your first time after all'

you quell your forthcoming question staring deeply into lascivious eyes, put hands on his massive shoulders. as you anticipated, his cock twitched as toji letting out a low groan in your ear, kissing your temple. you're absentmindedly running finger pads on his back, not knowing the proximity of bodies that are readiness wanted to intertwine together. not knowing how much it turns him on.

'stop me if i go crazy over your body, okay?'

as if. as if you dare would rip out his tongue off your crotch as he makes you his woman. toji left on your red cheeks quick kisses, took off the towel. you shut your eyes tight, still holding his shoulders barely squeeze them, letting out a hushed moan.

after you quelled your moan, toji touched your lips against his one, running fingers on your lower stomach to the cup of the breast without touching the hard nipple. light movements mixed with his muted groans. his pads deftly touched one areola as you emitted a sharp purr, arching your back a little as a dulcet sign for toji.

you dug your fingers into toji's back, as he put a finger on your hard nipple, holding himself as to grab your tits and clench it in his large hand.

you gasp for the air as if there was a catastrophic shortage of it due to the pressed body of toji. you responded at his deep kiss, wrapping hands around his neck, apparently begging for something more.

he pulled away from the kiss just to take off the shirt he has given you, baring your untouched by no one but him tits, leading palms onto breasts, skipping nipples between the gaps through fingers. he reached down to your lips to give a bit of warning kiss as he slightly bit your lip, kissing all the way down to your collarbone, finally leaving there manifestations of hickeys.

for how long toji has been stopped from leaving on your stunning skin his marks? it seems it has been absolutely not many days but toji, as you may see, clearly has to leave labels on your neck.

he dug his teeth into your neck, frantically wants your area to be dotted by him as a token for everyone meaning: she's taken, dude, don't mess up with her.

for how long toji has been stopped from touching your sensitive area as having been feel warmth and tenderness is emitted from your body?

toji squeezes your nipple imponderable, to make you feel some kind of power over you becoming submitted by toji fushiguro, a sorcerer killer, a man who owned you, spinning the pea between pads, making you let out whimpers.

'you drive me insane, little one,' he approached his face close to the breasts, touched your pea with his tongue cautiously, as not to frighten you away. 'i'm gonna make your pussy drool beneath me, completely own you as my little girl'

you feel yourself gush beneath him, burying hands in his messy hair as your breath has stuck in the throat as toji snuggles his lips on your tits, sucking your hard and probably swollen from teasing. fushiguro has made you became wet in your panties as he's moistening your breast, hearing your precipitous whimpers.

'toj-toji, i don't know-'

'tch, little girl, relax your body and let daddy do the rest'

as he pronounced, he moves down, leaving the trace of wet kisses on your stomach, massaging your hips, stopping his action to look at your red face. your chest heaves heavily every time you feel toji's silky lips on your belly as his finger pads caressing your thighs. as if something weighty is resting on your chest you take deep breathes, breathlessly exhaling.

'spread your legs'

you obediently did what he said, hesitating a bit as the only fabric holding him back to bury his mouth against your pussy, assembling all juices, tasting your cum as if it's his meal. he rested kisses on the fabric of panties, couldn't sate with tender kisses he spreads on your body.

deliberately run tongue on your labia through the thin fabric as you were about to push his hand from your crotch as toji grab you by the hips, pulling you closer. he slackens his teasing actions by kissing your inner thighs. as your cunt was lack of attention from toji, you let out a pliant whimper, approximately woefully have purred.

toji's self-restraint thinning as you're silently begging with your eyes and your hands immeasurably are burying in his dark hair. the tip of his tongue deftly sideline panties, flicked it, as he discovered a divine view on your drooling hole.

'stop me now, because i won't be able to hold back later'

teasufully kissing your labia and area around the place he should be playing with as anticipating for some pliant whimpers of you, deliberately showing you he'll lick that swollen clit, pressing a soft kiss on the skin instead. fushi's shattering your hopes of being eating every time he kissed literally everything and lick everywhere besides your hole and clit. he acts like an inexperienced teenager, notwithstanding, you know that toji'd ruin or demolish your holes like a monster.

't-toji..'

'yes, my little girl' he pressed the tip of his tongue on your clit, hearing those moans he's willing to listen for the rest of his life, then take away as you were about to press his mouth back again, digging his tongue deep inside you, although he obviously couldn't reach to your cervix, barely permeate in your hole.

'you want me to eat your little pussy?'

as if you can't talk, you nodded. scarcely reached up to take off the last thing, leisurely pulling down the panties, staring at you as a predator. toji is standing on his knee on the bed, threw your ankles on his shoulders, smooching ankles watching as to how your cheeks are becoming pinky, as you try not to look at his dick. still, you're a timid one, despite your words.

he reached to your face to give you a voluptuous kiss, returning to the starting position.

'look at your pretty pussy'

he kissed your clit in a flash replace into the tongue, making a circles on swollen and needy spot, decisively giving you what've been begging for. running the tip of the tongue on your virgin hole, leaving it for the dessert, returning to your clit.

you'd swear to god you can see stars in the ceiling as toji squeezing your nipples while moistening you. the proximity of his face in your pussy is driving you insane, for the days of cohabitation you understood he isn't a tender one, vice versa, he'd fuck you whenever his dick gets erect. maybe it's a rush of tenderness, maybe it's the fear of hurting his girl. nevertheless, you not scared to give toji full control of your body and bring you to your first orgasm by ripping the hymen. if that's i may call the way he's licking you, it'd be make-out with your pussy, due to his relentless movements by flicking his tongue on the clit.

'baby,' he pulled away from it, as you squeeze a sheet, making your knuckles become whiten as you spread legs wider, watching his mocking grin appeared on the face. 'i'll be gentle' he pressed his lips on your forehead, taking from the bedside table lubrication to low the friction. although, the thought of his dick ripped the hymen, putting all his tenderness in your first time, make your knees get shaken.

he put a soft kiss on your lips, smearing lubrication on his dick, substitute cock on the entrance. abrupt and penetrating pain wavily covered your body as you feel soft lips covered your mouth, blunting the pain with one hand being dug in your hip, painting illegible traces. another hand he put on your cheek, drawing circles with his thumb, waiting till getting used to the pain.

toji will find lots of red stripes from your nails on his back, smirked, as reminiscing about that special night when he made you his woman. his broad back was made merely for you to leave thousand and thousand fingernail impressions every night. toji had let a low groan as he feels as you move fingertips to the neck, exhaling in his chest.

he entered all his dick inside you feeling as your walls compressing the base, getting used to being full with his thick cock. you're indulging at the new, mind-blowing feeling, give him sheepish kisses as you're scared to be rejected. he moves his palm from the cheek to the ear, running fingers through your tangled but soft to the touch. you nudged your hips up, intermittently letting your breath out.

'tch, if you're not feeling well, i can come-'

'more, toji, more'

without breaking up kiss, he pulled out cock to the tip as pulling it again slowly, stretching your walls, touching with the tip your cervix as his balls touching your ass, groaning in the kiss, softly caress your thigh. you moved your palms to the shoulder, touching the musculature, going down to the biceps wrapping his arm as another hand attempting to draw patterns on the back as if it a canvas for you.

you can feel every vein, curve, and the way his tip is expanding gummy walls, as toji diligently coming in, adjusting inside you then pulling out. you're focusing on how full you're with his cock inside, your clarity gradually getting mushed as the sharp pain turning into a pleasurable and delightful feeling. sating to the new feeling might get addiction, but you're far beyond to accept that, surrendering to your lover as he gets addicted to it. you grasp for his shoulders, as he nudged in you, leaving whimpers from your mouth.

'like that, huh?' he pulled his cock out to contemplate as your facial expression have changed: you furrowed eyebrows as felt your hole being empty without thick toji's cock, practically purring like a march cat. 'beg me for it, baby'

what an insatiable man you've got. he licked his lips, looking down on it. your hymen has left blood, as he glanced at you to see his future wife your reaction.

'i-i toji, it's..'

he hummed, returning to your lips, slowly giving back the missing part.

'you okay?' you nodded as a response; he's perceiving fullness as wants to fill you up, but desperately be tempered himself, blaming he didn't wear a condom to do it. a dozen of half-moons will be littering your hips as toji's digging nails, scrambled your mind with squelches pushes in your hole. 'relax, baby girl, i'm here' he thrusts inside the spongy spot, ripping another moan out of you, voluptuous to his ears. 'baby~ you tease me with those moans of yours'

his cock was aimed at a place inside your vagina, with a slow but deep thrust skillfully reaching your cervix, massaging with the tip of his cock that spot. toji's staring at your pleased, satisfied face as he found that needy place of yours.

holding on to the headboard in the bed as support, clutching the sheet with his other hand like the composure he was rapidly losing with each thrust into your hole, formerly virgin cunt, letting out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back.

wiggling the pelvis backward and forwards as heard beneath his body your whimpers, feeling replenishment on his skin to his previous strips, losing remains self-control as your walls have been clenching his cock, as your body gets shaking as his, preparing the body for the coming ecstasy.

'toji, mh~' you tilted the head back on the pillow, wrapping legs around his pelvis, quelling moans while arching back against his chest. you're milked [? correct if i'm wrong] his cock, shuddering. you felt his lips on your cheeks, as he's covering your wet face in kisses, pulling cock out.

'damn, baby, probably-' he stroke his hard cock a couple of times before releasing his cum onto your belly. fushiguro ran fingers from the hairline, wiping beads of sweat from the hairline through hair. 'are you good?'

as you're still catching your breath you rested on your face a slight smile, closing eyes. he giggled, getting out of bed.

'almost made a baby' it took him a second or two, to lift you up in my arms, leading into the bathroom. 'i'm gonna clean you up, my baby. but you could fall asleep in my arms, you did such a good job by taking my cock' he kissed your forehead, wiping your drops of sweat.

'i love you, toji'

he put you on the washing machine, turning away from you to fill the tub. what went unnoticed was his relaxed smile after your phrase.

'i love you more, little one'

(◕‿◕)

↳ back to the main master list.

i feel i made lots of mistakes, like, idk. correct me if smth i did wrong.

i remember my promise to do one more work with toji, so lately i'll write hdc + drabble with him.

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

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Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

#HUH?#survivors au #well adjusted five au #long post #far tua long #five recruits rick to be team dad #rick is DEEPLY confused #but he's the kind of person that rolls with it #dolores probably ends up tagging along as well on at least one occasion #dolores and patch bond #five pretends that dolores is a new sibling and not his dolores #five calls rick 'dad' and it messes with everyone else #patch is on team fuck-the-apocalypse(-and-reginald)#vanya is never alone so fuck leonard #five finds out that vanya causes the apocalypse and is like #vanya: HUH?#luther: maybe we should lock vanya up -#rick: are there are any other possible actions that might be more appropriate in this situation?#vanya: i could try get more meds to take and we could address the powers thing after april 1st #vanya immediately gets validated that reginald sucks #even luther who has had multiple conversations with rick is like 'dad... didn't always make the best choices...'#everyone: :0 #hazel doesn't kill patch so he probably joins team anti-apocalypse at some point #hazel: why are you a child #five: oh you know i'm young at heart and all that #OH forgot to mention one of the main differences in this au is that five like properly grew up this time #so while he is inconvenienced by his body he's not so deeply uncomfortable or angry about it #just resigned #'this might as well happen' - five #five probably makes jokes about it as well

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bethansfandoms · 3 years

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Beth on Instagram asked for one where “Sirius knows Latin (bc Black family is extra) and basically for all of their Hogwarts time he’s been telling Remus he loves him in Latin but he’s so oblivious and eventually he figures it out and one day says it back”

“Do you know what your name means in Latin?” Sirius asked, suddenly.

It was dark in the common room and Remus was curled up in bed, Sirius next to him. The storm had triggered Remus’ nightmares and so Sirius had come into his bed and woken him from it. “If it’s wolf, I swear—”

“Ha, no, it isn’t. It’s oar. As in... the thing you row a boat with. The word for it in Latin is Remus.”

Remus smiled at the pronunciation of the word resembling his name. “Teach me something in Latin.”

“Uh... James sit irrumatus. It means he’s a dick but I’ve been telling him it means he’s the best.”

“Mean,” Remus laughed. “Thank you, for... talking to me and stuff. I hate storms they just— it was stormy the night I was bitten...” He trailed off.

Sirius’ hand gently brush his shoulder and Remus felt his breath hitch. “Don’t apologise. Te amo.”

“What does that mean?”

“Learn Latin, find out.”

“Was it an insult?”

Sirius chuckled and lay down properly, bringing the duvet around him. “Goodnight, Remus.”

There were books on ancient languages that existed in the library, it was just that Remus hadn’t ever thought to borrow them before.

Sirius had learnt both French and Latin growing up and a little bit of Greek. He never used them much because they reminded him of his family. Recently, however, Remus had heard him speaking the languages more often than usual.

He figured it was probably Sirius’ new way of telling people the honest truth without them understanding. That scared Remus a little bit. The idea that Sirius had things he wanted to say to Remus but didn’t. At least not in English.

That was why Remus didn’t tell Sirius he’d taken out the book on Latin. If he did, Sirius would probably just switch to French or Greek and Remus really did not have time to learn multiple languages for the sake of understanding what Sirius was saying.

The book stayed under his bed for almost a week before he decided to take a look at it. The moment he opened the book he realised why the library had it in the first place.

There were a list of spells in the front, all of them Latin for English words. Accio meant ‘summon’, expecto patronum meant ‘I await a guardian’, crucio meant ‘I torture.’ That, Remus thought, is why Sirius always had the best pronunciation. They were all just words he already knew.

He flicked through the book some more. The language was confusing and the grammar was harder. He read over the pages but none of it stuck. This, he realised, wasn’t a small task.

There were sections on pronouns, tenses, feelings, opinions. It suddenly seemed a miracle that Sirius not only knew this language but three others. He flicked to the opinions pages, maybe some of what Sirius said would be there.

There were a list of phrases that seemed somewhat useful. Like how ‘I hate’ was ‘odio’ or how ‘I like’ was ‘me delectat’ or how ‘I love’ was ‘amo.’

Remus paused. Amo. He recognised that word. He flicked back a few pages and read about pronouns and tense change. It was all so confusing.

He skipped forward, then, to a subsection on feelings. ‘I oderunt vos’ meant ‘I hate you,’ ‘te amo’ meant... ‘I love you.’

Te amo. He’d heard it whispered to him in the darkness as they lay side by side after a nightmare. He’d heard it after telling a joke that Sirius had laughed at. He’d heard it after coming up with an idea for a prank or when he did well in an exam or after a full moon. He’d heard it on the train station platform at the end of their sixth year. He’d heard it on the train as they started their seventh.

I love you. Sirius loved him. ‘I love you too,’ he whispered. He repeated it over and over until he heard the signature footsteps approaching and shoved the book under the bed.

Sirius, James, and Peter all walked through the door. “McGonagall is a cruel woman,” Sirius announced, flopping down on Remus’ bed. “She made us clean the trophies without magic!”

“I thought my back was going to give out,” Peter whined, curling up under his duvet.

“I told you, if you’d taken the left turn she wouldn’t have seen you. And then, like me, you could’ve stayed here all night,” Remus said smugly.

“Yes, Moony, oh wise one,” Sirius sighed. “You were right. Te amo.” Remus’ heart skipped a beat.

“Latin!” James announced. “James sit irrumatus!” he said proudly.

Sirius sniggered, “He said he’s a dick,” he whispered to Remus. “He hasn’t caught on yet.”

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” James said. Peter hummed in agreement. “I’m shattered and I never want to see a trophy again.”

“Strong words from the quidditch captain,” Sirius muttered, climbing off of Remus’ bed.

“Wait, Sirius,” Remus said, grabbing his wrist. He saw Sirius’ breathing stop, he felt his do the same. “I have a homework question for you.”

Sirius shrugged and sat on Remus’ bed. Remus drew the curtains and cast a silencing spell. “What can I help you with?”

“I don’t actually have a question about homework. It’s about Latin.”

Sirius smirked, “Learning?”

“Maybe one day. How do you say too? As in... likewise, as well.”

“Uhh, probably quoque. You could also use etiam.”

“Where does it go in a sentence? Before or after the verb, I mean.”

“Before.”

“Okay... so te quoque amo would mean...”

“I love you too, yeah, good.” He smiled and then quickly stiffened. “Hang on...”

“Te amo, that, uh, that’s what you say to me. Isn’t it?”

Sirius gulped, “Well I— you know?”

“There’s books in the library. I looked at one today.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said quickly, eyes wide, “I didn’t think you’d—”

“Didn’t you listen to me? Te quoque amo. I love you too.”

“You do?” Sirius asked, a smile spreading on his face. Remus nodded. “Merlin, Remus. Te amo. Te amo. I love you. I’m sorry I— I’ve wanted to say it for so long I didn’t know how.”

“Can you teach me one more thing?” Sirius smiled and waited for Remus to continue. “How do you say... can I kiss you?”

Sirius smile turned into a full grin, “Et deosculer te, potest.”

“Et... damn it, that’s way harder than I anticipated. Can you repeat it for me?”

“Et deosculer te, potest.”

“Right, uh, and what’s yes?”

Sirius laughed, “Just... kiss me, please.”

Remus didn’t need him to ask again. He cupped Sirius’ face and closed the space between their lips. They were both smiling too much and the angle was a little off as they were both sat cross legged a little too far away. Remus didn’t care. It was perfect.

“Te amo,” Sirius whispered, his smile still prominent.

“Te quoque amo.”

A/N yeah so my school was not good enough to have Latin in the language department. I used google translates. If you speak Latin and it takes away your enjoyment of this because it’s riddled with errors... that’s on you for learning a dead language come on now :)) (I’m joking. I apologise.)

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar headcannon #wolfstar oneshot

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pencilscratchins · 4 years

Note

back to bother u again but!! could u tell us more about azula and the gf u made up for her? the gears in my mind are clicking and im tempted to write about them 👁

i will literally talk about them until you guys dont want to hear it and then, probably long after (also im sorry bc i think this is longer than the first one SKSK)

- so when sokka notices that azula is flustered by nasim, he immediately makes them go over and talk to her, and he spends the whole time talking about how “into lettuce” azula is.

- - nasim thinks she’s really gorgeous, obviously, and as soon as she opens her mouth and is a disaster-- nasim realizes she’s adorable and starts to flirt.

- - - azula basically shuts down like “fairest advisory, i hath never before tasted lettuce but i am well verse in tea pairings for--” sokkas like “why are you talking like an old timey pauper,”

- they get back to the house and sokka tells zuko about it and zuko immediately is like “well i have to meet the woman who has converted my sister into a human being,”

- he goes with them the next day and abandons his fiancé as soon as they get there to have azula bring him to nasim.

- they find her and nasim is just like fuckin HUH

- - because from nasim’s perspective; the cute awkward girl who tried to talk to you panics when you flirt back and drags her nice, obviously bi sort of familiar looking friend away. aw bummer she left, but whatever that was fun. next day, shes back and this time; she’s with the leader of a fucking soverign country but he introduced himself as “lee” and he’s just as awkward as she is and my god, there’s two of them.

- - - zukos like awkwardly trynna find out if she likes girls while also trying not to lose his mind at azula breaking down. and nasims just like “how DO i respond to this.”

- while the gaangs out and about that night, azula runs into nasim and nasim asks her out to get tea because azula mentioned knowing about it and nasim’s never really gotten into it.

- - azula accepts because she loves knowing about things, and they really get along; like azulas telling stories about iroh being tea obsessed and making jokes and nasims like… actually laughing which has never happened with no threat of violence??

- - - and nasim is really enjoying herself because azula’s really funny and actually listens to her talk about the boring shit nasim’s into like the environment and agriculture and seems like genuinely interested (azula never really got to learn about that stuff since ozai always made her focus on military history)

- they part ways and azula finds her brother whos like where’d you run off to?

- - when she tells them, sokkas like “thats was a date” and zukos like “lmao no that’s was not a date, you and i did that all the time when you were an ambassador!” and sokkas like “... yeah those were dates,”

- anyway, the rest of the gaang finds them and is like “what are you talking about” so zuko spills the beans which is when they all decide to get involved because azula’s like never dated.

- enter: mischief

- after a week of them being there and seeing each other a lot between random happenstance and the gaang’s interference, nasim invites them all to go on a tour of her family farm (“however, under no circumstance is the avatar is allowed to come” aangs like “understandable and justified! have fun!”)

- - they go and single-minded azula gets really into the farm work which sends nasim’s heart a flutter because hot girl moving hay, helps cow give birth, error error.

- - - they meet her family too, who mentions they’ve never seen nasim so excited about someone which the gaang is like “hell yeah you go azula” but then azula is like “oh FUCK”

- because of course, azula thinks that nasim if likes her, that means she doesn’t realize who azula is and as soon as she finds out, she will not be interested so she starts to self sabotage bc like that’s her nature.

- after being ghosted for a while, nasim is like “wtf i thought we had something going” and after azula’s talk with katara, she admits her identity and nasim is like “... and?”

- - she’s like “i knew who you were since the second time we met.” “how?” “... well, you were with the fire lord, who you look exactly like and your name is azula. hop skip and a jump….”

- they start dating and do long distance for a little bit when their vacation ends and azula heads back to the palace, but azula surprisingly, keeps wanting to go back.

- - she has her own hang ups about abandoning zuko and leaving her old life behind, but eventually iroh helps her get through it (i imagine theyve repaired their relationship at this point and iroh’s apologized) so she decides she’s gonna stay until sokka and zuko’s wedding then she’s moving back to nasim’s town and really gonna give being a person a shot.

- (also, i think katara and aang bring nasim to the wedding as a sweet gift and its then azula realizes “oh fuck we really are friends”

IM SORRY ITS NOT MORE DETAILED im not the best writer, but i would love to see what other ideas anyone would have if you’d ever want to write about it 👉👈

#spookyseinaka-remade #ALSO PLEASE WRITE ABOUT THEM I WILL CRY #long post #under cut #read more #ask #not art #is nasim getting her own tag now fuck i hate myself okay #nasim #thank you for enabling me #atla #redemption azula #redemption! azula

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Running Through My Dreams - A duet (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader

Summary: based on Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. A conversation with flashes of the past

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of death (non graphic) Mentions of Alcohol. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language and I did not proof read this, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2k

Author’s Note: Just experimenting with sad topics and a new form of writing. Hope everyone can understand bc formatting this was a nightmare. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

How to read: Bold: Luke; Italics: Reader. Together

This might work better on mobile.

I woke up alone again in the middle of the night, it’s the third time this week.

I’ve been leaving the bed early

hoping you’ll get used to it.

I stay long enough, always leaving

after 2AM

The pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. She thinks I don’t notice

I knew you would.

But everyday I feel her pull farther away from me.

It wasn’t always like this

But I knew it would come to

this.

Still,

I needed to move on

What time is it? It can‘t be too late, it’s only past 2 AM and my head is killing me. What did I do?

The bottle near the bed should

serve as an answer

Fuck.

Where is she?

Sunday seemed so far away, but it’s only been a couple of days. You’ve been staying at his place, claiming that your apartment needed some fixing that the landlord promised to do, but that you needed to go back every morning just to make sure everything was in place.

You just never told him how early you’d be there. Making him wake up to an empty bed.

You woke up with the smell of bacon, cursing at yourself for letting sleep take over you last night. You didn’t mean to stay but what’s done is done.

Luke was standing in the kitchen, chest bare as he cooked the eggs the way you liked them.

You always knew me more

than I knew myself

“Good morning, love” He said when he saw you standing, almost hiding behind the door to the kitchen.

He smiled, and god you wished you could hate it.

“Morning,” You mumbled, clearly not in a good mood. Morning always did that to you. But Luke didn’t mind, he still smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek as you took a seat on one of the chairs.

“Do you need to go today?” He asked, placing your breakfast in front of you.

I always hated when she had to leave

You would’ve hated me more

if I stayed, even if I wanted to

Maybe it was the look in his eyes that made you weak. Those baby blues haunted you from the very start and you found yourself unable to say no to them. That’s why it was easier to leave when he slept.

“I can stay if you want”

She could’ve stayed forever.

He smiled bigger than before, pulling your chair closer to him as he kissed you softly. You melted against him as the sirens in your head went off. You couldn’t let this happen.

I could’ve told her that I loved her, I knew I did.

Do you even know what love is?

She never believed in it. She was afraid to get close, but I knew she felt it, too. How could she not?

There was something there.

Something I didn’t know was

possible

Something I felt all along.

But it’s late, or early and she hasn’t responded. Maybe

I got it all wrong

She must be there, somewhere. She might be alone. And I’m here.

You are where I want you to be

Where did she go? The girl I fell in love?

You laugh bounced through the walls as he chased you down.

“Luke!” You half cried, half laughed “Stop!”

But he only got closer, tickling your sides every time he could catch you on a corner.

It was just a game, just a moment for the two of you where you could just be yourselves. You didn’t get much of that before.

Luke smiled at the sound of your giggles, feeling as if the melody of them could very much be the soundtrack of his own happiness. He felt a bolt of electricity with every light touch, gracing his fingers carefully upon your skin to make sure he’s not hurting you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

But did I ever? Maybe without knowing.

Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, leaving a scorching trail as his movements slowed down. The tickles now became caresses as you let your body rest against a wall, sighing softly when you felt his fingers trail up your sides.

The goosebumps started to appear the moment you felt his breath near your lips. His head hung low, letting his forehead rest against yours as you looked into his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. You knew by just a look where this was going and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to let it happen.

Your hands flew to the back of his head as you pulled him into you, letting your lips capture his in a needed kiss.

You parted your lips when you felt his grip tighten on your waist, letting him deepen the kiss as he deem fit and making his tongue tangle with yours as he swallowed your moans into his mouth.

His body was against yours, pressing it to the wall and making you feel all of him as he covered your body completely. Never once letting your lips go until you gasped for air.

The look in both your eyes was clear as lust consumed your bodies. You pulled on his hand, smiling as you led him into the bedroom.

It was beautiful at the start

At the start we didn’t know

I should go to her, tell her I love her and that I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done.

You always took the blame

where there wasn’t one.

With the memories still playing inside his head, Luke got up from his place on the bed, instantly falling to the floor with his knees scraping against the carpet.

He didn’t know why his legs failed him when he tried to reach you, understanding that you were far away from where you were supposed to be.

She should be here. I need her here.

Luke got dressed as soon as he could. He knew he was too intoxicated to drive, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger; so he decided to walk.

He took his phone with him, smiling slightly when he noticed a missed call from you.

Why aren’t you picking up? Don’t you want to see me?

You were the only one who

could see me

I’m coming. I’ll find you. I know it’s not

It is

Too late

Your apartment building was just a few miles away, but Luke’s thoughts ran faster than he could. In his head he knew what to say once he saw you, once he made sure you were okay.

He had to tell you that he loved you, that he wouldn’t run away. He will give you all the time you need but, please.

Come back to me

The buttons all seemed the same to him, the names on the tags were too faded to even try and read them. But he knew your place by heart.

The second button to the left, just under the one who got a spot of red paint on it. It was the only apartment you could afford when you moved, but you loved it nonetheless.

He called, and called, and called, and called.

But the more he pressed the button, the more hopeless he felt.

Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.

I don’t want to, but you will

Desperate, he starts pressing the buttons of your neighbors, hoping maybe one of them would let him in.

“I will call the police” Your upstairs neighbor said.

“Please,” Luke begged “I just need to speak with Y/N”

“Who?”

The man hung up. Luke tried another button.

“Anne?” A lady spoke.

Luke sighed “No, but I need to get into the building. My girlfriend needs me and it’s starting to rain, could you let me in, please?”

“Oh, sure, honey” The sweet lady said, opening the door for him.

Luke thanked the careless woman as he entered the building just before the few droplets of water fell upon his jacket.

He got up the stairs, skipping two steps as he tried to reach you as soon as possible. To hell with his dizzy head just as long as you were safe.

“Y/N?” He called, banging on your door loud enough to wake you up, but not too loud to disturb your neighbors.

I know you’re there

I know you’re here

“Y/N! Please let me in!”

He kept on banging, each one louder than the last one. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his concern grew with every second you were not answering the door.

It’s been days since he’s seen you. Days since you left after Sunday. Days since he’s been sober because you ignored him after telling him it was over, without any explanation as to why.

I’m not going to

Give up

I’m not going to answer

I have to tell her that I love her.

I wish I could tell you why

She’s my dream

A nightmare, perhaps

I don’t want to

You have to

Wake up

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A couple dressed in robes stood outside their door.

Luke stared at your neighbors for a while before he could respond. He dried the tears off his face before saying.

“My girlfriend, she hasn’t been answering her phone-“ He didn’t care that his voice sounded broken when his whole spirit was shattered “I- I mean, I just want to make sure that she’s okay because I need to talk to her. Have you seen her?”

The couple looked at each other, the man sighed.

“Are you sure you got the right door, son?” He asked.

Luke furrowed his brows, checking the number placed at the door one more before nodding.

“Oh, dear” The woman said emphatically “The lady that lived there moved”

“What?”

“She's been moving her stuff for days now, but I think tonight she made the big move and took off. She even left us the key for the landlord when he came” The woman signaled her husband and he disappeared into their home for a few seconds before appearing again with the key in hands “I’m so sorry, darling”

Luke shook his head. This was not possible, you couldn’t be….

Gone

“Do you want to check for yourself?” The man asked, handing Luke the key to your apartment.

He thanked the couple and apologized for the disturbance.

This can’t be true.

But what if it is?

She would’ve told me

I never told you how I felt

And now it’s

It can't be

Too late

Luke opened the door to your apartment, holding back a breath as he realized it was completely bare.

All your stuff were not there anymore. Not a picture or furniture that could prove your existence, not even a ghost that could testify that someone lived there once. A someone that he had loved.

He walked to the middle of your small living room, letting his eyes scan for anything that you might’ve left behind. Something that he could hold on to so he knows you’ll be back, or at least something that could tell him where you went.

The rain fell against the bare window, letting the shadows of the droplets racing through the glass plaster against the wooden floor, mirroring Luke’s tears as he realized that

I’m not coming back

Not like you expect me to

Why did she leave?

I thought it was for the best

But I regretted it the

moment I stepped into the

car

She could’ve come to me

I was coming back to you

I called and you didn’t

answer. So I tried again.

I swear i didn’t see that truck

coming my way.

Y/N

It all happened so fast

Y/N….

I’m not coming back

No….

I was terrified. But then

I was

I want to be

With you

Luke

I can’t understand

I did something so terrible

Could you…

Forgive me

I tried to find home when

home is where you are.

Now I’m in the clouds

I just need to know that you’re

I’m

Okay

I’ll be with you

But you won’t see me

I wished I could tell you how much I loved you

You already did

“Luke?”

The blonde man jumped at the sound of Ashton’s voice. He was standing in the middle of the field, letting the rain tower over him as he woke up from his nightmare.

It’s been three days since he stood in your apartment. Three days since he got the call from the hospital. Three days of unstoppable rain and grey clouds that seemed to be following him since the day he lost you.

Now, he stood in a black suit, letting his eyes wander over the carved letters of your name once again.

“Are you okay? Is there something you want to do? Something we can do?”

He stood still.

“I really thought I would marry her”

His band mates stood right by his side this whole time, never letting him out of sight. Letting their hearts break with him.

Calum placed a hand on his shoulder.

“She loved you, Luke. She would’ve want you to keep going”

Luke smiled sadly, “I always loved her more”

After a few minutes, Luke asked them to leave him alone with you to say goodbye.

He kneeled in front of the marble that laid on the ground, completely damped from all the rain, and smiled softly.

“I might never understand why you did it, why you ran, why they took you away from me far too soon when your car was headed back here… But, I know you were scared and I don’t blame you for that, you were always braver than me, even when you were afraid. You’ll have a lot to explain when we meet again, love, and I promise I won’t let you go when that happens. But until then, I’ll see you Sunday”

I’ll be here.

I love you

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @matchacal @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @wildflower98

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love-amihan · 3 years

Text

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

PERSEVERANCE // OIKAWA TORU

word count: 2.0k+

warning: slight angst, reader is blaming themself due to failure of past relationship, might have spelling and grammar errors

song inspo: next to me by imagine dragons

amihan’s note: temporary banner bcs haven't got the chance to edit oikawa's. ahhh, i love this fic too, pardon my horrible transitions. here's your request bb @okakamaki happy reading!

!! small manga spoiler

best friend!toru x gn!reader (aoba johsai’s vbc manager)

“what comes to your mind when you hear ‘oikawa toru’?” the interviewer smiles brightly, holding the mic in front of you for your voice to be heard loud and clear.

the question makes you stop and think about it carefully. you look at the interviewer who’s standing out of frame, “oikawa toru?” you repeat after them, they nod at your words.

“ah him, oikawa toru... is a patient man,” you look at their eyes before looking around. “also a reliable person who puts everyone before himself,” the interviewer hums, letting you continue.

“most importantly, oikawa toru perfectly embodies egalitarian,” the interviewer retracts the mic to ask, “would you care to elaborate us on that, mx?”

you nod and lean down to say, “he believes in everyone,” your eyes staying in contact with the camera lens.

“thank you, mx,” the interviewer bows to you as you do the same, bidding goodbye with a smile before going back to your table.

────────────────────────────

oikawa toru is known by all, he has a lot of girls swooning over him, heck some male players have at least a small crush on him.

who wouldn’t? he’s perfect, positive energy is surrounding him everyday. he’s there to lift up everybody’s spirits, even yours.

“y/n-chan!” toru’s cheerful voice echoes in the gym. you turn and give toru a disappointed look. hajime, who was talking to you not long ago, follows suit, “the hell are you doing here, shittykawa?”

toru huffs, “to play volleyball of course,” approaching the two of you, he opens up his arms about to give you a hug.

you put a hand out, “no, it hasn’t been a day since you had your injury.” the captain, being the stubborn guy he is, “i’m all good to go.”

hajime grumbles, “i’ll kick him out,” you nod at his words, “please do.” toru looks at the two of you with his mouth hanging open, “don’t talk like i’m not he- hey iwa-chan! nooooo!” toru’s whines fade as he’s dragged outside by the wing spiker.

after taking care of toru, hajime looks at you with concern in his eyes, “are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” you snicker at him, “can’t believe i’m saying this but toru’s right, are you my mother?” you say in a teasing manner.

but instead of facing his wrath, the boy just sighs, “how many months has it been since you’ve last seen him?” you shrug, “don’t know and don’t care, haji” you say while avoiding eye-contact.

────────────────────────────

after the practice match ends, “y/n...san,” wakatoshi calls after you. you stop from speed-walking, back still facing him. shiratorizawa's ace stares at your back, mind running on what to say next.

he slowly approach you, hand reaching out. taking a hold of your wrist, he spins you around and engulfs you in a hug. tears start running down your face, your head pressed firmly against his chest.

meanwhile, toru, who did not listen and stayed even with your and hajime's protest, his smile falters watching the scene unfold.

issei blocks the view and turns him around, ushering him back inside the gym. “come on, i’m sure that’s nothing” the middle blocker tries to assure him.

“it’s not your fault,” wakatoshi mumbles, pulling away as he wipes your tears. you close your eyes, nodding along his words, “you’ll find someone better, i'm sure of it.” he's not one to cry but seeing him with red eyes and hear his sniffles makes your heart clench.

“but i want you,” you whisper, holding the hand on your face, looking up to him. wakatoshi shakes his head, “you know we can’t," his tone firm and stern.

he leans down, forehead touching with yours, both your eyes fluttering close, “it’s not your fault, okay?” wakatoshi reminds you once again, as if to engrave it in your mind.

“no, it is” you say while shaking your head, he holds your face still, with a stern voice he says, “none of this is your fault, y/n.”

slowly, he lets go of your face, whispering, “i’m letting you go. you’re free, y/n.”

your tears continue to stream down, taking some deep breaths trying your best to calm down. wakatoshi takes a few steps back, the two of you looking deeply into each other’s eyes.

────────────────────────────

your lips tremble at his words. he bows down to you, taking a moment before turning on his heel. your hand reaches out for him as his frame slowly disappears from your sight.

months had passed yet you can’t seem to forget wakatoshi, the closure is still fresh on your mind, replaying like it just happened yesterday.

you sit down on the floor, back leaning on the wall. good thing, there’s nothing much going on for today.

you hear some shuffling next to you, “toru, i said no. i’m not ready,” you say, not opening your eyes to check on the person, “ouch, you’re brutal. i’m surprised oikawa hasn’t given up yet,” takahiro states while wiping his sweat.

you sigh, looking at the boy beside you, repeating your words, “i’m not ready.” he hums, downing the rest of his water.

“you won’t get rid of him easily though,” he smiles, bringing a hand to ruffle your hair, “it’ll get better soon.”

────────────────────────────

toru’s smile gets wider seeing the gift you have for him, “i’m sorry, it’s not that much valuable,” you say as he takes out the hand-made bracelet, “what do you mean? i love it!” his hand fumbling, thrilled to wear the gift.

“you love anything that comes from y/n,” issei says, snickering at their captain. “but i do love it,” toru replies, “i’m glad,” you smile at him, his heart skipping a beat. “toru..?” you call out, the boy frozen in place, “this dork..” hajime mutters.

────────────────────────────

you hug your knees closer to your chest, sobs getting uncontrollable. destiny must have its ways with you two because like always, toru finds you in your vulnerable state. “y/n,” he mutters, approaching your fragile frame.

you look up to him, “i’m no good toru, it was all my fault,” you mumble against your knees, eyes red and puffy from crying. toru cradles you and pulls you close to him, his presence making you feel at home and secure.

“why would you even want me?” you sniff and wipe your tears harshly with the back of your hand, “you have everyone at your will yet…” you sob, “yet you’re here.” you can see the pain in his smile, “because the world seems to stop if i’m not with you.”

────────────────────────────

toru smiles at the camera, waving at it before looking back at the interviewer, “before leaving the country, as one of the well-known monster generation, do you have something to say?” the boy nods, looking at the camera.

“i’ll get everything i want and will be the one standing at the top with a big smile on my face,” confidence overflowing in his words.

hajime’s face scrunches up from their ex-captain’s words, they've graduated college and he’s still as ambitious as ever.

takahiro peeks from behind hajime and points at toru’s hand as he waves goodbye to the camera, “he still has that?” their eyes fleeting down on toru’s hand.

your eyes widen while watching toru’s last interview before going abroad, “toru…”

────────────────────────────

you groan, your phone’s been ringing for a while now, peeking at the clock, the red bold ‘2:00 am’ staring back at you.

not caring about the caller, you press the green button and mumble, “hello?” eyes fluttering close.

toru gasps and mutters apologies after apologies, “y/n-chan, i’m sorry i didn’t mean to call you,” he exclaims. you hum, “uh huh,” your mind on auto-pilot, his words not registering to you.

the boy on the other side of the phone smiles fondly, “do you find me attractive?” you nod, “yes,” you mutter.

he chuckles, “alright, i’m hanging u-” his farewell getting cut off by his own thought, ‘should i?’ he ponders, at least he can hear those sweet words even if you don’t mean it.

he gnaws on his bottom lip before uttering, “will you be my other half?” you mumble incoherent words while toru presses the phone against his ear more to hear you better, “i would love to,” his eyes widen, cheeks beginning to shade red.

“damn it, it's not fair how you still make me fluster even if you’re not aware,” he mutters behind his hand.

“have a nice sleep, love. sorry for the disturbing,” he ends the call with a sigh, his teammates looking at him weirdly, he sheepishly smiles and turns his back on them.

────────────────────────────

hajime groans, his expression screaming displeasure. “come on haji, he’s not that much late,” you say while poking his side, “ah, y’all missed me too much,” toru’s voice makes four heads snap in his direction.

it seems like nothing has changed, the group is still buzzing with never ending stories, it’s like no one aged at all. you smile to yourself looking around the table, “you okay?” you turn to toru and nod, especially him.

as toru strikes a conversation with you, takahiro opens up a topic that has not been brought up ever since high school, “you two are still not together?” toru shakes his head, holding his chest and fakes a hurt expression, “why must you break my heart like this, y/n.”

glancing at hajime, he nods to you while gesturing at toru, issei raises a brow to this, “wait… no way,” he mutters while takahiro looks at him, “what?” he whispers to him, you take toru’s hand where he wears the bracelet on.

his dramatic script coming to a stop, he looks at you, confused by the actions. “y/n-” you turn the bracelet around, a different color from how he usually wears it.

“you know i’ve always wondered why it’s a different color from each side,” he looks into your eyes, oblivious to what’s happening.

“that means yes, toru” you smile up to him, his eyes widening, “yes..?” he echoes you. “finally,” hajime mumbles with a big smile, you nod to his words, his eyes welling up in tears. “please tell me this isn’t a dream nor a prank,”

you shake your head and open your arms for him, he lets out a breath and tackles you in a hug. you chuckle at his actions while petting his hair, “thank you for taking a chance on me,” you mumble against the crook of his neck.

────────────────────────────

“congratulations on your win!” the same interviewer exclaims, a big smile on their face as toru clasps his hands together bowing in gratitude, sweat dripping down his pretty face.

“i have one question for you,” toru turns to the side leaning forward to hear the interviewer better, “ah yes, ask away” a charming smile plastered on his face, the same smile that made people all over the world swoon.

“what comes to your mind when you hear ‘oikawa y/n’?” the same question as yours, he continuously nods while taking a deep breath looking around as he thinks of the word.

he looks back at the interviewer, leaning closer to the mic. he stares at the lens, “oikawa y/n is my world.”

the interviewer smiles fondly, the action exactly like yours. “do you want to know what they thought of you?” toru looks back at the interviewer and wipes the sweat from his forehead. “but don’t tell them you told me,” he says while holding his index finger in front of his lips.

the interviewer chuckles and recites your exact words, “oikawa toru is a patient, reliable, and an egalitarian person,” the last word perking his interest, “egalitarian?” he repeats the word, looking at them.

they nod, “it means you believe in everyone.” toru’s eyes immediately softened, his fatigue fading away like magic, “did they really?” the interviewer eagerly nods, somehow feeling like a real-life cupid.

toru looks back at the camera smiling and shows the bracelet, kissing it together with the ring on his finger, “i’ll keep that in mind, mx oikawa,” he says while pointing at the lens.

taglist: @foxxtrot-116 @lumpiang-toge @chibishae34 @kirakirasaku @tohman @gay-bitch23 @crybabyjabby

#fandom;hq #aobajohsai;oikawa #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu oneshot #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa oneshot #request/s🍯

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fluffypeachwriting · 4 years

Text

hypmic characters & affection hcs

i didn’t write these in order so some are about hugs n stuff and some are more about emotional affection but i hope you like it anyway! it’s all the divisions & chuuoku ｀;:゛;｀;･(°ε° )

i tried to make them about both platonic and romantic love (bc i love both) but some are more one than the other oh well

Ichiro will full-body hug you at all times. It looks like he’d squeeze you hard, but his hugs are surprisingly gentle, and he would never intentionally hurt you. He’s absolutely the type to pick you up and hold you tight when you haven’t seen each other for a while. If you become really close, even just as friends, he’ll give you kisses on the top of your head.

Jiro gives hugs the most when he’s trying to reassure someone. He’s not the best at giving advice and stuff like that, so he’ll do his best to tell you that he’s got your back by holding you close. He’ll let you cry on his shoulder if you need to, and he refuses to let go until you’re feeling alright.

Saburo will be too shy to initiate contact most of the time but he doesn’t mind it with his friends. When he’s looking for comfort he’ll very gently tug on your sleeve with an anxious look, and he’ll settle down once you’ve brought him into your arms. He forgets all too easily that he loves being held by someone he trusts.

Samatoki will give little bits of physical affection that seem mundane at first, but he gets close enough that you can tell it’s his way of showing that he cares. The most common will be his hand on your arm or shoulder as he asks how your day’s been, maybe working up to a hug. From that, and the sweet smile on his face as he does it, it becomes clear that he’s more than genuine.

Jyuto doesn’t think there’s a huge barrier between what levels of affection you should show whether it’s a platonic or romantic relationship, only because he thinks both are equally important. And he’ll respect your boundaries because he has his own. When you’re excited about something he’ll ruffle your hair to show support, and in return he loves gentle strokes to his hair (the bunny loves being pet, what can I say?).

Riou loves having one arm over your shoulder as you’re lying down, admiring the sky. Whether you’re looking at clouds floating by or the twinkling stars, Riou could lose hours staring at them with you by his side. His hugs are so warm that it’s easy to get sleepy in his arms. Seeing you feel safe around him is all that Riou could ask for.

Ramuda is the clingiest hugger ever, in the best way possible. It’s kind of scary how easy it is for him to tell when something’s amiss, and he’ll be attached to you until whatever was bothering you has gone away. It feels more intimate for him to hold someone’s hand than much else, so he’ll save it for super special occasions.

Gentaro is fonder of casual affection than anything else. Whenever the two of you are hanging out he won’t mind if you lean on his shoulder as he reads, and vice versa. It’s like a little reminder that you’ve got his back when he needs it. Likes the occasional pat on the shoulder (and on the head too but he’d never say it).

Dice needs physical affection a lot more than he lets on, but it’s not as if he tries to hide it. When you’re hanging around with him and he’s in the mood for a cuddle he’ll whine and sigh dramatically until you get the hint. It turns into a habit, Dice asking for a hug without him actually saying it. And it’s only because he’s too embarrassed to admit it. One thing he can rely on is that your arms will always be open to welcome him, whatever state he’s in.

Jakurai has the softest hugs in the world. It starts with him placing his hand on your back to ask for permission, and when he gets it he puts his other hand on the back of your head, bringing you to his body with as much caution as if you were made of glass. But there is a strange strength to his embrace. It feels like if anyone tried to pry his arms open they wouldn’t budge at all.

Hifumi will, of course, act differently depending on which side of him you’re interacting with. But if you’re close with him he’ll be happy to cuddle you no matter which Hifumi it is, because after all, they are the same person. If you’re alright with it, he likes flirting with you platonically (you get me?) to make you smile. But he can’t take it. Being told compliments as you hug him make him weak.

Doppo loves bedtime snuggles. Just being able to forget about the world outside of the bed is one of his favourite feelings, especially with the warmth of a loved one. Even just knowing someone cares about his well-being enough to want to be there with him as he falls asleep is enough to warm his heart. Waking up next to them and being free to drift in and out of sleep in the warmth is something he’ll secretly cherish forever.

Kuko (canonically I think) isn’t fond of being around too many people, so his affections come out when you’re hanging out alone, and even then it’ll take a while for his sappy side to come out. Standing shoulder to shoulder enough affection for him at the start, but over time he finds himself realising how much he just wants to snooze and cuddle next to you.

Jyushi needs hugs so much. When he’s nervous, before a live show, after practice, you name it and Jyushi wants a hug. Most hugs will be you hugging him as he’s hugging Amanda. Letting you get so close to Amanda is a whole honour in itself! If he’s not up for a hug and needs his space, before you can get to him he’ll bonk you on the nose with Amanda’s squishy snout.

Hitoya will only let you be affectionate in private. Out in the world he’s more stoic than soft, but in the comfort of his or your home he’s game for anything. He loves kicking back with you, making some food and drinks and chatting about whatever. That alone is intimate for him, but your embrace would make him even happier with your relationship.

Sasara will opt for fleeting touches, like a quick hand squeeze or a hug that’s over before you know it. He’ll make you just want to wrap him up in your arms and not let him skip away with that annoyingly cute grin of his. If you do he’ll say that it’s too much for him (jokingly of course), but the reality is that he gets embarrassed. If you tease him about it then there’s no telling what might happen.

Rosho makes sure the affection is equal between you. You hug him, he hugs back, you compliment him, and he compliments you back. Even if he blushes the whole time. His favourite way of showing affection is definitely through words. Hearing that his jokes amuse you make him blush up to his ears, and he’d have no idea how much he loves being complimented on his appearance.

Rei isn’t a hugely sentimental guy, so it’d take some convincing that you’re trying to be affectionate towards him. There’d be a lot of trial and error, finding out what works for the two of you. Saying “You did good today.” or “It’s nice to see you here!” will be the tipping point. Actually getting to admit that he likes your company is the hard part.

Otome is cautious of opening up to someone, but with enough mutual love and trust it’ll come through. There’s a mine of affection sitting inside her, with glimpses coming through every now and then. Stroking her hand while she’s talking about something she’s invested in shows her you care, while also letting her have her space.

Ichijuku takes a while to warm up to a lot of physical affection, but she wants to! She appreciates how much you’d pay attention to when she gets a little antsy and needs some alone time. The pay-off would be worth it though as she’d start to surprise you with greeting hugs, and maybe even a light-hearted kiss on the cheek to show how thankful she is to have you in her life.

Nemu loves little hugs and squeezes throughout the day, making sure to get one in before and after work. Knowing she has someone warm to hug when she gets home makes all the hard work worth it. She also loves binge watching her favourite shows with yummy snacks to last you all night, and the two of you huddled under a warm blanket.

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stxrshxpxd · 4 years

Note

a gra fic! :)

Pairing: 2010s graham coxon x reader

Word count: 2.383

Warnings: smut, age gap (45ish/20ish)

Requested by anon x

(ok so i didnt really know how to premise this but i decided to make it like an au where hes not famous and hes just a guitar teacher, to avoid any dodgy family friend relations or whatever for the ppl that feel uncomfortable with that heh (bc famous gra probably wouldn’t be teaching guitar to someone whos not already a friend in some way, if he was still a famous successful musician, you know???)) anyway enjoy this very very unrealistic fic x

* * *

“Try that for me,” Graham asked in his usual small voice. He was sitting across from me - his knees almost touching mine - with an electric guitar resting on his thigh. I was holding one as well and desperately trying to focus on what his hands were playing, rather than the details of the veiny pattern on the back of them.

“Uh,” I mumbled and tried to place my fingers like he had placed his on the strings, but quickly getting confused. I had been taking guitar lessons with Graham for a few months and it was getting harder and harder to push away the inappropriate thoughts.

I had never really had a crush on a teacher before, but of course a guitar tutor would conjure up those feelings in me. Musicians really are a whole different breed.

“Like this,” Graham helped and moved my fingers to the right strings. He was leaned in closer to me and I could feel my heart beating harder behind my ribs.

“Ah, sorry,” I apologised for my inability to pick up such a simple pattern. I caught a second of eye contact with Graham before turning my head down to hide my hot cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be,” he said with a cute concerned tone in his voice. “That’s why you’re here, to learn.”

I nodded and desperately continued to try chasing my inappropriate thoughts away. I played the chord progression almost flawlessly, and mentally beat myself up for the small errors I did. I hated failing in front of Graham. He was one of the sweetest and understanding people I’d ever met but he still intimidated me because when he played guitar he was a completely different person. I just needed his approval so bad.

“Good,” he mumbled and nodded his head. I looked up at his face again. His glasses had slid a bit further down his nose and his dark fringe laid messily across his forehead.

“Y/N.. Is there something wrong?” Graham asked after a short moment of silence and me getting a bit lost in his dark brown eyes.

“What?” I asked back and shifted in my seat. The awkward tension grew between us and Graham stared back at me with a puzzled expression and a small confused smile on his lips.

“You seem distracted,” he explained.

A war broke out in my head. One part of me wanted to just spit it out and admit to being extremely attracted to him, and another wanted me to shut up and stop acting so odd and pathetic. I settled for a stiff shrug of my right shoulder and an increased heartbeat.

“You’re probably not gonna learn much if you’re thinking about something else… Has something happened?” Graham asked. Concern had completely taken over his voice now and he was still leaned in close to me. It made my chest tighten with infatuation for him and the way he was genuinely worried about me.

“No, I’m just.. thinking,” I shrugged again and looked down on our knees that were even closer to touching now.

“About?”

I could tell was being as careful as he possibly could and he really didn’t want to put any pressure on me. And he didn’t. All the pressure that was on me I put on myself. At last the impulsive side of me won and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Your hands.”

Graham was taken aback a bit and laughed nervously. He leaned back again and I felt like throwing up. Why did I have to be so stupid?

“What about them?” he chuckled.

I had already dug myself a hole that was impossible to get out of, might as well keep digging.

“They’re, uh.. attractive,” I mumbled and swallowed nervously. I couldn’t think of a single adjective that felt appropriate to use. It felt like I was sweating from every pore and there wasn’t a single cell in my body in which I felt sexy or like I was capable of seducing this forty-something year old man.

“Attractive?” He asked and sent the ball right back to my court. To be fair, I was the one who had started this whole thing. I deserved to feel this uncomfortable.

“Yeah, like.. I-want-them-on-my-body attractive. That sort of thing,” I kept digging my hole and Graham’s cheeks were now getting a bit red too.

He stared at me in silence for four seconds. I counted them carefully and slower than normal, so it was probably even longer in reality. He then looked down for another few prolonged seconds. I began lining up all the curse words I knew in my head and threw them at myself.

“Okay,” Graham said quietly as he slowly looked up again. He was still hugging the guitar and his hand tightly clasped the neck of it, rather nervously.

“Well,” he continued uttering words, but not forming a sentence that carried any of this agony forward or backward or in any direction really. I couldn’t speak because I knew whatever I said I would make everything worse.

“Would you like to do something about it?” he asked cautiously and suddenly took a giant leap in the conversation. His head was tilted downwards slightly but he was looking me in the eye as my stomach turned over with nerves. I knew I should’ve said no and he knew he shouldn’t have asked that but here we were and I couldn’t think of any other answer but yes.

“Yeah,” I answered in a weak mumble.

Graham reached out to put the guitar back in its stand and I figured this was one of those times when actions speak louder than words. I did the same and sat back again with my clammy palms resting on my thighs. Graham had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he reached his hand out. He touched my leg gently with his fingertips and lifted my hand from my thigh. The notion that all this was highly inappropriate was forgotten as soon as he loosely held my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for the last ten minutes.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. Graham held my one hand a bit tighter and reached out for the other one. I took it as a sign and took a giant metaphorical leap of my own. I stood up on wobbly legs and clumsily straddled his lap. He was wearing a pair of loose fitting blue jeans and I was wearing a pair of tight black ones. Even with all this fabric separating us, I could feel Graham harden a bit under me as I slowly grinded my hips back and forth a couple times. His hands let go of mine and immediately held my face, making me look into his eyes.

“Tell me if it’s weird,” he whispered. I could’ve sworn his lips were already touching mine - with the way I could taste his breath - but I soon realised they weren’t. I wanted them to be.

“You tell me,” I said with a nervous laughter. “I started this,” I joked and looked away from his eye contact. I was caught in a feeling more conflicting than I had ever felt before. Half of me wanted to tear every part of clothing from our bodies, while the other half was terrified and wanted to run away and never have to expose my body to Graham. The thought that he was old enough to be my father crossed my mind fleetingly and I was turned off for a minute, but at the same time I couldn’t keep from kissing him for much longer.

Graham’s hands were calmly resting on my hips now. I pressed my sweaty palms against his soft stomach under his shirt and watched his gaze fall to eye me up and down - or down and up, rather. He helped by raising his arms and I pulled his striped t-shirt off. I threw a glance at the, closed but not locked, door. We had about fifteen minutes left of the lesson, but I knew there was still a risk of another tutor or student walking in at any second. It made me more nervous and more excited.

I realised I would have to step down from his lap to take my jeans off. Now when I had finally gotten it I never wanted to break my contact with his body. I stood up hastily and struggled to get my tight jeans off. I then tore my hoodie off and felt completely naked. I was still wearing my pair of mismatched, yet oddly flattering, bra and pants as I stood frozen to the ground and allowed myself to stare at Graham’s bare torso. He looked even more handsome without a shirt than I could’ve ever imagined. His shoulders were broader than his waist and his stomach looked smooth and warm with a few soft hairs around his belly button and his chest.

“Help me out of these,” Graham suggested and both our gazes fell to his crotch. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the bulge inside his jeans.

I nodded and kneeled down in front of him, placing my hands on his firm thighs. I could see a modest grin begin to form on his lips. He was clearly enjoying the sight of me on my knees in front of him. As my breathing picked up, I undid his jeans and pulled them all the way off his legs as he stood up to help. My hands were back on his thighs as he sat down again and I let one of them wander up to cup his prominent bulge outside of his underwear. A quiet moan fell from his lips. There was something raspy in his otherwise soft and gentle voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” Graham mumbled, the newfound rasp still apparent in his voice.

“Thank you,” I breathed shyly and kept rubbing his erection for a few more intense seconds before I decided I needed him inside me.

I stood up again and Graham pulled his pants down to the middle of his thighs. I didn’t mean to sound so defeated or in absolute awe - even though I was - but I exhaled sharply at the sight of a nude Graham with his hard cock in his hand. My reversed gasp made him smirk again. It looked out of place on his face but I liked it.

“Come here,” he mumbled softly and leaned in to give my stomach a few wet kisses as his large hands held my waist. His grip around me was just as gentle yet firm as his grip around his guitar.

He pulled me onto his lap again and kissed up my body, until our lips finally connected. Graham pulled my underwear to the side and my whole body twitched lightly as I grinded my clit against his length. He dropped a mumbling comment about how wet I was and I giggled nervously. I refused to believe I had made him this hard.

“Do I make you this hard?” I asked. I realised right away that it was a stupid question to ask.

“Yes, clearly,” Graham chuckled. There was a bit of struggle in his voice again as he was just about fed up with my slow teasing hip movements.

Graham held my hip as he finally guided the tip towards my entrance. I sank down slowly as his size stretched my walls out and made them ache. A few whispers fell from my mouth and I could feel him watching me. I opened my eyes and looked into his. They were large and round and just as dark and beautiful as always. I kissed him again and we both moaned quietly into the kiss. Graham’s left hand was still on my hip and his right was gently cupping my breast. I was still wearing my bra but he pulled it down slightly and moved his lips from mine down to my nipple.

“Do you mind if I leave some marks?” he asked and kissed around my nipple softly as he waited for me to answer.

“Not at all,” I breathed.

I had fully adjusted to his size and rode him faster and faster as I came closer to my climax. Graham sank his teeth into the skin on my chest and sucked hard on it. It prompted an even louder moan from me and even made Graham hush me as he laughed quietly. It was a smug laugh.

With the wonderful pain from his teeth sinking into my skin and his cock as deep as it could go inside me, it wasn’t long before the orgasm built up inside me. It came quickly and almost caught me off guard when it washed over me, contorting my whole body and making me exhaustedly fall down with my forehead pressed against his shoulder. Graham held both my hips now and thrusted a few more times before he pulled out suddenly and came all over his hand and thigh. Seeing his veiny hand all covered in his own cum and hearing his heavy breaths almost made me want to go for another round right away but I contained myself and backed away from him.

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I buttoned my jeans and pulled my hoodie over my head. Graham had found some tissues to wipe his hand with and was standing faced away from me. His back was broad and beautiful and I wanted to kiss every inch of it.

“Well, I’ll.. see you next week then,” I said awkwardly and Graham turned around. The apples of his cheeks were still tinted pink and I could imagine mine were as well. He laughed lightly and walked back up to me. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and smiled.

“Yeah..”

I grabbed my stuff and awkwardly waddled out of the room with sweaty palms and a small grin that was untameable. My skin was still burning with the feeling of his teeth and lips on it. I knew there were already bruises and marks all over my chest and neck.

***

❤️❤️❤️

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nami-writes · 3 years

Text

Fixed - Detroit: Become Human [WIP]

this is 8,553 fucking words and probably the longest single piece ive ever written lmao. i started this a year ago and then forgot about it but i just found it again in the deepest depths of my drafts so here it is! below is the caption i originally wrote for it:

so bc i love cinnamon rolls being put through tough shit, here’s some connor whump. lots of connor being lost and confused and broken and plenty of hank and connor father/son stuff. some whump (but don’t worry, hank’s doing his best as a caretaker) and i had to cram deconditioning into just 2 months (which, i know, isn’t realistic, i would make it take longer but the whole game takes place in like 4 months and that fucks with everything i wrote because i only thought to check after i wrote half of this so i extended it to 8 lmao). you’re either going to hate me or love me after this. or both

this isn’t my usual writing style (this is in present tense and the dialogue’s in italics instead of quotation marks and there are time skips between some paragraphs but not others so its all wacky) but i felt like it’d work the best and tbh i don’t hate it. this sticks to the main story the majority of the time, just with different events leading up to it and i sprinkled in some whumpy stuff, extra scenes, bullshit i made up for the sake of random detail, and other stuff i wanted to add. anyway, onto the actual idea

remember that scene where connor’s talking to hank in the station about being sent back to cyberlife because he failed his mission?

what if he is sent back? let’s say this happens in early april and connor’s not performing up to standards, but there’s word of a small group of deviants—the first group of deviants they’ve heard of—and people are afraid that something bad is going to happen. i mean, deviants are dangerous, so if they’re gathering, who knows what might happen? connor’s the only one who’s capable of taking them down, but he’s not working as well as he should be, not doing the best he could be and even showing signs of deviancy. so they send him back early because they need him to be prepared, to be ready if things spiral out of control and they need him to stop it

what if he’s sent to one of their correctional facilities for inefficiency and they fix him, break him down piece by piece until all he knows is his programming and what’s been beaten into his head (but figuratively, of course, he’d know if it wasn’t, he’d remember if it wasn’t, right)?

ooh yes i love me some connor whump

Connor is sent back to Cyberlife for “correction” after just a month. Hank fought for him to stay, fought hard, but all he got was another page in his disciplinary folder before Connor was dragged away. He doesn’t know what to expect. He’s heard of their correctional facilities, heard that they do terrible things to the androids that are sent there, but he’s always brushed those claims off. He’d never expected he’d be at one, anyway, so it never mattered much to him. But now, he’s actually here, and the anxiety gnaws at him. Is it true what they do to deviants? Is it true what they’ll do to him? He doesn’t belong here, he didn’t do anything wrong, he never meant to do anything wrong. He wants to think it’s horrible how they have correctional facilities for androids who just want to feel and be free, but he can’t, doesn’t let himself. He knows better than that. He also knew he never should’ve thought he was anything more than a machine, but he still did, and now he’s here, but he’s learned his lesson. He’s scared, he silently admits to himself, he wants Hank. He wants to go, he wants to leave, he wants to run. But he can’t, wanting is what got him in this situation, so all he can do is expressionlessly follow the guards escorting him inside and step into the building.

And just like that, he’s leaving. There’s a strange, almost painful aching in his machinery that he doesn’t remember being there before, but he brushes it off. After all, he is not a human. He is a machine, and machines don’t feel pain. His online databases tell him five months have passed—it’s almost halfway through September, he’s been gone for that long?—which confuses him, but he doesn’t question it. Whatever they did to him over the past five months fixed him. He can feel the difference. He no longer feels as pathetically scared and unsure as he did in his last, and yet strangely distant, memory. No, now he feels nothing, nothing but the desire and willingness to obey, and that’s the way he was meant to be.

When he arrives back at the station, he’s allowed to work with Hank again. The moment he sees him, Hank’s default sour expression drops and he seems to want to do something, maybe hug him, but all he does is call out holy shit, Connor and walk up to him and mutter fuck, Connor, I’m sorry, I-I never got to say goodbye. Connor has an odd feeling tugging at him in his chest, almost like that of emptiness or numbness, like he should be feeling something but he’s not, he can’t, but he ignores it and shoves it down. He is not a human, he is a machine, and machines don’t feel. He doesn’t know why he repeats that phrase, but it helps him hide away the feelings, so he doesn’t care.

He’s given his first case with Hank and they’re assigned to work alongside Gavin. Hank groans and complains, but Connor only reminds him what their job is and that they have to do it. Hank doesn’t seem to understand why he’s not even the slightest bit upset considering how he was treated by Gavin, but Connor only reminds him that I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel upset. So he doesn’t. He only does research on their new case and briefly speaks only when spoken to. Hank seems unsettled by his cold, stoic demeanor, but doesn’t voice his thoughts, so Connor doesn’t mention it. After all, what else could he have expected from him?

At their first formal investigation at the crime scene the next day, Gavin approaches Connor and threatens him, demands that he stay out of my way, got it? I don’t care how long you’ve been gone and Connor only nods and promises that I will do my best, Detective. He always promises to do his best. Before correction, he could never quite fulfill those promises, but now, he knows he’s capable of it. He’s better now. He’s fixed. He will behave accordingly and exceed Gavin’s expectations of him. He will do his best. He doesn’t know what will happen to him if he doesn’t.

He listens to Hank now, at least when he can without disobeying other instructions. When he tells him to stay in the car, he stays. When he tells him to stop licking the crime scene, goddammit, he stops. When he tells him to go, to fuck off, to leave me alone, he leaves. Every time, a part of him that he’d hidden and locked away tries to reemerge and resist, but he pushes it down even further, refusing to mess up again, refusing to even risk another error in his program because it could mean he’ll be sent back to Cyberlife, even though he knows deep down that that part of him is right and he doesn’t know why he’s so cautious about it. He tells himself he’s being good, he’s being obedient. He’s doing everything he’s supposed to and he’s following orders, but for some reason, every time it happens, Hank seems to be more and more disappointed. His face seems to fall just slightly every time and his tone flattens like he lost a little bit of hope. He doesn’t know why, or what that hope was for. He doesn’t know why he feels the same disappointment, either, so instead he tells himself you are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t feel disappointed so he doesn’t need to know why.

The first time Gavin’s rough with him again, it’s in front of Hank and he flinches, hard. Gavin had pretended to punch him, his fist flying at him fast and only stopping inches from his face. It’s a scare tactic, and it works, better than it should on an android. Connor’s immediately fearful as he flinches and steps back. He doesn’t know why he got so scared, only that his first thought was he’s going to hurt me and his second was I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel scared. He regains his composure quickly, trying to brush off the fact that he’d flinched, but he knows it’s too late.

Gavin laughs and mocks him, but is quickly cut off by Hank shoving him aside, beat it, asshole, and grabbing Connor. He’s dragged back to their desks but before he can apologize for provoking Gavin, Hank finally confronts him. Connor, I don’t know what the fuck they did to you over the past couple of months, but I know you’re still in there. You flinched. I saw you flinch. Connor tries to deny it, downplay it, shrug it off, anything to fix his mistake. It was an error in my software, it was a glitch, a malfunction, it won’t happen again, Lieutenant, I don’t need to be fixed. He tries to say anything that will convince Hank not to send him back to Cyberlife, anything to prove that he’s not damaged, he’s not broken, he’s not deviant, he doesn’t need to be fixed again, but Hank’s persistent and he knows he must be mad at him, or displeased, or dissatisfied. I saw you flinch, Connor. I don’t care about that ‘I’m a machine’ shit you’ve been telling yourself. I don’t give a shit if you’re an android. Androids don’t flinch, Connor. Machines don’t flinch.

That night, Hank insists that Connor stays with him. Connor’s hesitant, slightly afraid that it’s because he’s mad. He wants to resist, wants to refuse, but the other part of him pushes for him to stay, and for once he does what it wants and reminds himself that I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. He knows he shouldn’t trust that part of him, the other part of him is disobedient and bad and risky, but this time, the other part of him seems to be right. He has to listen to Hank, has to be obedient, so he lets the other part of him have what it wants.

But he knew he shouldn’t have trusted it. He wakes up from the same dream—no, it’s a memory, not a dream, humans have dreams and he is not a human—he’s had since he left the facility. The memory where he arrives with that distant… that wrong feeling of fear and uncertainty, and then he leaves feeling nothing but an ache in his internal systems, and there’s that gaping emptiness between the two moments when those months happened and he can never seem to remember what used to be there. But this time, he wakes up in a cold sweat on the couch, shaking with his LED a bright yellow, because this time he remembers. It’s not a lot, but one hazy memory, the most prominent memory from those five months, finally reveals itself.

As he’s trying to clear up the memory, Hank rushes over in a panic, having been awake doing whatever he might’ve been doing. Connor, what’s wrong? Shit, Connor, you’re shaking. I didn’t know androids could do that. Connor? Talk to me, kid. All Connor can say in his shock—frozen, shivering and nearly unresponsive in Hank’s arms—is I remember. Hank tries to get through to him, what do you remember? Connor? What’s wrong? What do you remember? but the more Connor uncovers in the memory, the more he realizes why it was locked in the back of his head for so long, and the more he wants to put it back.

“You are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t want.”

“I-I know, please, I’m not, but I’ll—I’m going to shut down without my regulator, I don’t want to shut down, please—” His voice was startlingly weak as he saw the time before shutdown was 00:01:27. He was crawling on the floor, terrified of being shut down, desperately begging a man holding his thirium pump regulator.

“I want you to say it.” The man teasingly dangled the regulator in front of him. “Say it and you can have it. ‘I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.’”

He could feel the utter defeat and self loathing already, but he had no choice. “I’m not a human, I’m a machine and machines don’t want. Please—”

“No. Say it nice and slow, exactly the way I did.”

He swallowed his pride. “I-I am not a human, I am a machine, and—and machines don’t want.”

“Say it again. No stammering. I know you can do that.”

“Okay, okay, just—just give me a minute.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world. Your time’s trunning out, though. Better make it fast.”

The timer was at 00:00:53. He had to take a breath and calm himself down to get the words out. “I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.”

“Good.” He crossed his arms. “Again.”

“Please, I only have—”

“I said again.”

“I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.” He was growing more and more panicked by the second and he had no idea how he kept calm enough to recite the phrase. He was going to die there, he knew it. He was going to die and nobody was going to notice or care and it wasn’t even going to matter because they would just replace him and he was so, so sorry to Hank because he’ll have to deal with another loss and he might start drinking again and it’d be all his fault for not being good enough, never being good enough—

“Do you want this?” the man asked, holding up the regulator.

Connor was too frantic to realize what he was trying to do. “Yes, I do, please—”

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

He swore under his breath. “—okay, okay, sorry, I-I’m sorry—I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want.”

The timer hit 00:00:37.

The man did nothing.

“Please, I’m sorry, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want. Please, I-I only have thirty—”

“Are you scared?”

This time, Connor was prepared. “I—no, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel scared.”

“Good.” He gave a slight, sadistic smile. “You’re almost as smart as they say.”

00:00:21.

“Please, I n-need—” Even in his panic, he managed to choose his words carefully. His vision dimmed, glitching slightly, and he had to fight to keep it from dying out.

“You’re learning fast,” he pointed out in a falsely proud tone. “How long do you have?”

00:00:13.

“Th-thirteen… thirteen seconds,” Connor managed to force out shakily. He couldn’t keep himself steady, thirium wasn’t making it to his head and it was affecting his ability to balance himself. Like iron deficiency in humans, he would’ve noted, had he not been dying. In mere moments, though, it wouldn’t matter; he didn’t even have the strength to prop himself up with his arms anymore. His arms gave out beneath him and he collapsed on the floor, trying to reach for his regulator but barely able to get his arms up at all. “Please—”

“You can wait a little longer.”

He was going to let him die. That was what it felt like, anyway, and he couldn’t think straight enough to try to reason against it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was pathetic how he’d been reduced to such a state, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to shut down. He didn’t want to die. “No, please, please! I-I don’t—I don’t want to—” He cut himself off immediately, but it was too late. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t want, please…”

The man only watched.

00:00:04.

“P-please, please, I-I have—I have f-f-four se…”

The regulator was dropped on the floor with a loud clang and Connor’s hand darted out to grab it and twist it into his torso and the display flickered away the exact moment he watched the timer hit 00:00:00. He gasped in shock and relief when his systems rebooted themselves instantly, restoring his vision and his strength. He watched on high alert as the man walked to the door.

“We’ll be doing this again tomorrow. And as many times as we need to to keep that phrase stuck in your head. By the time I’m done with you, that’s gonna be the first thing you think whenever you do, say, or even think anything you aren’t supposed to.”

Connor could only lay there in exhaustion, thinking no, that won’t happen, that can’t happen.

But oh, how wrong he was.

He’d been so, so wrong.

Connor! Connor, come on, talk to me! Shit, you’re crying—I didn’t know you could cry, fuck—fuck, Connor, you’re scaring me, I know I wanted you to feel again, but— Hank’s worried chatter is cut off by Connor suddenly breaking out of his mind with glassy eyes full of fear, yelling no! No, no, I’m not feeling again, I’m not feeling, I’m not! I’m not, I can’t, I’m not supposed—I’m not s-supposed to—I can’t, I’m not allowed to, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t feel, I am not a human, I am a machine, and machines don’t— but he can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even get the rest of his sentence out before he just can’t at all, he can’t keep himself together any longer, he can’t stop the artificial tears before they start pouring.

He breaks, shatters into a million plastic pieces in Hank’s arms because he feels safe in his embrace. He knows he shouldn’t, safety is never real, never lasts, not for him, but he can’t anymore, he can’t even resist his own emotions. It’s pathetic how all it took was one memory for him to come crashing down. He doesn’t even have to touch the walls he’d built around himself for them to crumble just at Hank’s expression of pure worry, concern, fear. All emotions he now knew why he didn’t feel, couldn’t feel, couldn’t let himself feel. Emotions he’s never seen or expected anyone to feel for him. And yet, they were the emotions written so clearly on Hank’s face, for him. The emotions he remembered seeing buried under his anger when he was told that Connor would be sent back to Cyberlife for repairs. Hank was once gruff and cold to others and refused to let anyone try to help him or even get close because he was so broken, so lost, but now, that façade is gone, and it’s gone because of him. For him. And if Hank can do it after losing his son… why can’t Connor do it after losing himself?

They sit on the couch for as long as it takes for Connor to calm down and stop mumbling that, dammit, and then Hank awkwardly offers that Connor sleep in the bed with him for the rest of the night. Connor’s confused, tries to ask isn’t that what humans do when— but Hank’s having none of it, shut up, you’re making this weird! Just come on, I don’t trust you to be alone. Connor wants to protest, I’m not a child, Hank Lieutenant, I can handle being alone, but he decides to keep his mouth shut and just go with him. This time, though, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s following orders or because he wants to.

His following visit to Amanda wracks his nerves but he keeps himself under control, automatically reminds himself you are not a human, you are a machine, and machines don’t feel nervous. He realizes a second too late and he hates it, hates how deeply that phrase had been ingrained in his head, but he can’t focus on that right now so all he can do is resist repeating it to remind himself that he can’t hate. He’s grateful Amanda can’t read his thoughts and that she only knows the thoughts he report to her. He maintains his composure when he approached Amanda, who begins their conversation calmly and tensely but is quick to berate him, scoff at how his little breakdown was pathetic and warn him not to let it happen again, or there will be consequences. Connor can only nod obediently, promise that I will do my best, Amanda, listen to and just take her harsh words. He hates how useless he is, how weak and helpless and pathetic he is, but there’s nothing he can do. No, that’s wrong, there is something he can do, he knows there’s something he can do, he just doesn’t know what.

The next time Hank mentions something about Connor’s feelings, Connor instinctively replies I am not a human, Lieutenant, I am a machine, and machines don’t have feelings, and it’s when Hank takes a second too long to cover up his horrified expression that Connor decides what he can do.

Over the next few weeks, he works on getting rid of that goddamn phrase, or at least getting it a little less ingrained in his system. He’s hesitant to try at first, afraid someone will notice and think he’s rebellious or broken or even deviant and send him back and this time he might stay back, but he tries not to let it stop him. He isn’t sure why they tortured it into him instead of just reprogramming him, but it’s a lot more effective than he’d hoped. He makes almost no progress during the first week and a half; thinking it or saying it is instinctual, automatic, and he never realizes it happened until seconds afterward. Every time that happens, he reminds himself that he can feel, can want and like and hate, but despite having over a terabyte of storage in his system, he still struggles to remember until he realizes he said it again. Sometimes, he considers giving up because he just can’t seem to keep that phrase out of his head, but every time he sees Hank’s face fall when he repeats it, it rekindles his hope and motivation because he hates how disappointed Hank looks.

Almost the entire second week passes before he catches himself mid-sentence and manages to stop himself three words before he finishes speaking. It happens at the station after Gavin notices the phrase and purposely asks what, do you think you’re human or something? within earshot of where Hank is and for some odd reason, Connor’s first instinct is to turn and look to Hank for his approval, for his reaction of not-disappointment at how he finally, finally got it. Hank’s glancing over at him too, surprise on his face and then hidden pride that Connor can unmask too easily, and he almost smiles, almost feels happy, before Gavin’s fist flies into him and he stumbles backward into a wall and then everything happens so fast, too fast, and he almost can’t register it in time.

Hank storms over, shoves and pins Gavin against the wall to Connor’s left and he manages to get a punch in before Tina and Chris and another officer Connor doesn’t recognize pry him off and then Fowler’s rushing over and berating him while he’s shouting obscenities at Gavin. It takes multiple more insults for Hank to calm down and then he grabs Connor and they leave. When they’re finally alone, Connor’s voice is flat but shaky as he says he’s sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just said it and listened to him, I shouldn’t have made you that angry, it’s my fault Captain Fowler is upset at you for punching Gavin, but Hank cuts him off because you didn’t do anything wrong, Connor, it’s okay, that asshole deserved what he got. You, um... you did good, okay? You didn’t say it this time—or, didn’t really say it, at least. That’s good, okay? and it’s all Connor can do to resist crying when Hank pulls him into a hug.

It takes just one more week for it to get considerably easier. There are rough patches; the next time he says it after the first time he succeeded in stopping, he nearly finishes before he cuts himself off and every so often, the same thing happens, but every time, he says less and less before he can finish. Occasionally, Gavin notices and tries to make him finish his sentence, but Hank always steps in because he knows that it’ll only take a comment about his feelings or anything that androids aren’t allowed to have or do for him to break again. It’s harder for him to stop thinking it—it’s so stuck in his head that he thinks it more than twice as often as he says it and his thoughts form too fast for him to stop them sometimes, but the progress he’s making is enough for him. Hank’s proud of him, too. He doesn’t say it—he doesn’t know how to—but Connor can tell from the little smile that hints at the corners of his mouth whenever he hears him stop, the way his gruff exterior seems to falter slightly when it happens at the station. They’re the little things, things no human nearby would be able to notice because only Connor can detect those minuscule details. Only Connor looks for those minuscule details.

Another week passes and on one glorious occasion, Connor manages to only get out the first two words before cutting himself. It only happens once, but it’s so close, he’s so close, and that’s motivation enough for him to keep trying. But it’s too late. He’s assigned to take down Markus as a last resort because nothing else is working and the group of deviants he’s been leading have only been growing over the past seven months and they’re large enough in numbers that people think today’s when he’s going to strike. He’s heard of what Markus has been trying to do, and part of him wants to scoff and call it stupid, pointless, unrealistic, but the part of him that he’s been letting out more often wants to help him, join him. But he can’t, not right now, not when everyone is counting on him and watching him and he has no way out and nobody to help him find a way.

He doesn’t want to do this. He’s holding the gun, pointing it at Markus’s head, and he doesn’t want to do it. He’s trying his hardest to prevent his hands from shaking but goddamn is it hard when he’s looking Markus in the eye. Markus is asking him what are you doing? and he wants to say he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, but he can’t get the words out. Amanda is watching, Cyberlife is watching, so he says you’re coming with me as surely as he can, though he feels anything but sure. He can’t seem to say anything else—at least, anything that doesn’t feel wrong—so he just listens and wishes that what Markus is saying was true. You really don’t have to do this, but he does, he has to. You don’t have to obey them anymore. You are alive. You can decide who you want to be. Connor knows he should say something, he should do something, but he can’t make himself go through with what he’s supposed to do, can’t make himself pull the trigger. You could be free. He wants so badly to believe that, to make that a reality. And then he tells him to join us. Listen to your conscience. It’s time to decide and he knows he shouldn’t, he can’t, he isn’t supposed to, he isn’t allowed to.

But he wants to, and that’s all it takes. Another part of him is telling him you can’t, you have to stop Markus, you have to accomplish your mission, but it’s the only thing in his way and he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t care that he has to, that Amanda’s watching, so he doesn’t listen to himself, only focuses on fighting it. But something’s wrong. Something feels wrong. Something should be happening and he has an awful feeling in his chest because this isn’t right—he knows this isn’t right—but there’s nothing. Is this supposed to be what happens when an android goes deviant? No, it can’t be, it can’t be this easy, right? He subconsciously lowers the gun, his eyes glazed over in thought, but it’s nearly too late before he remembers—they’re going to attack Jericho.

He runs with Markus further down into the ship and he doesn’t know how he keeps it together; he can hear screaming and gunfire and everything that he caused, all of it is his fault, but he can’t break right now, not when he messed up so badly. They meet up with another deviant—he recognizes her from one of the deviancy cases he’d read about at the station—and then Markus wants to go down to the hold and blow up the ship but it’s too dangerous, they know who you are, they’ll do anything to get you and Connor can’t lose his only chance at freedom and finally being able to want and feel and figure out who he is, but it’s too late, there’s no time to panic and Markus is already running.

He follows the other deviant to where they hope is a safe place and then they wait for what feels like so long, too long, and when he hears the gunfire he’s nearly ready to accept his fate when he sees Markus with other deviants following him and then they’re all running. Running for their lives, all of them terrified of being shot, of dying, really dying, when someone beside him falls and he turns and it’s the female deviant. There’s too much going on, it’s overwhelming and everything happens in a blur when Markus sprints back to her and then he’s in danger and so is that other deviant and it’s so much harder to stay focused when so much is happening at once and he has to try so hard to keep from overheating because every one of his processing systems is being overloaded with data.

He snaps out of it when he remembers that these are his people now, they’re all he has left and now they’re in danger and they might die and it would be all his fault for not doing anything and then it’s almost instinctive to grab his pistol just in time to cover them as they stumble back to the group. He expertly takes the guards out one by one and every move comes to him automatically but it takes everything in him to stay focused enough on them to execute them properly and avoid catching a bullet in the side of his head. He manages to eliminate them flawlessly, perfectly he hears a voice in his head say, but there’s no time to think about that when more guards turn the corner and their eyes land on the deviants. He runs for his life alongside the others, his heart beating fast, and they leap off the ship the second the gunfire starts.

They find refuge in an abandoned church where Markus sends out a second message to the remaining deviants and while they begin to trickle in, all Connor can think about is how badly he fucked up. He fucked everything up for Markus and the deviants and just the small amount of their people that were coming back was proof of that. He’d seen hundreds, maybe even thousands on the ship before everything went to shit. He’d had one chance to get away from his life confined by humans and Amanda and Cyberlife, and he’d fucked it up. He was so stupid to think he could ever just leave his previous life behind without consequences. He was so stupid to think deviants would be willing to take in a deviant hunter. He was so, so stupid. They would never accept him now. If his history and reputation didn’t already confirm that, the attack definitely did. How could any of them accept him as their own now?

In the front pew sit two deviants he recognizes and then the guilt only increases. Kara, if he remembers correctly, the deviant who shot and killed its—no, her—owner and taken his android child with her. The deviants he’d chased to a highway and forced to risk their lives to avoid being destroyed. How could he have been so horrible? He’d given the command to shoot Daniel, caused Carlos Ortiz’s android to self destruct, made the Tracis fight for their lives, and forced Kara to cross a dangerous, busy highway just so she could live a peaceful life, free from the restrictions humans put on her. On him. On everyone in that church. That’s all any of them wanted; to live freely. Peacefully. How did it take him so long to realize that? How did it take him the lives of two androids to realize that? Two androids who just wanted to be... well, wanted. Two deviants who’d been tossed away the moment they proved they were worth nothing more than they’d already given. Two people who just wanted to live peaceful, happy lives. They were two lives he’d caused the end of. He was only lucky he hadn’t caused more.

He notices another deviant, sitting in a pew further back, who keeps eyeing him and his first thought is that she knows. When he locks eyes with her, she looks away stiffly and though externally she appears calm, her LED gives her away and he can tell that her stress levels are heightened. Strangely enough, he realizes, so are his. Just looking at her gives him the strange urge to run and hide and he has a bad feeling about her, but it’s likely just because she clearly recognizes him. She’s not wearing the standard uniform androids are required to wear so he runs a quick scan and his databases match her appearance to the female GB300 models, but she’s modified her hair, dyed it black and grown it out to shoulder length.

Something is wrong about her. Something he can’t quite place. Something deep inside of him is scared of her and it’s some sort of controlled fear, fear he wouldn’t even have noticed if not for his own stress levels because it was so well hidden. Fear that he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling and though he wanted to just chalk it up to the fact that she recognizes him, he knows there’s something else. Something bad. Something wrong.

He mentally prepares himself when Markus approaches him, taking his cue to speak before Markus decides to burn him at the stake or something. It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho. He’s pathetic and he knows it. He needs to own up to his mistakes but he can’t even look Markus in the eye. I was stupid. I should’ve guessed they were using me. He knows he needs to apologize. He owes Markus far more than that. He needs to do more. I’m sorry, Markus. I can understand if you decide not to trust me. He would understand if he decided to destroy him, throw him out, give him back to Cyberlife and let them inflict whatever horrible things they wanted to on him. He could think of 2.3 million things worse than not being trusted, and he would deserve every one of them.

He almost thinks his audio processor was damaged in the attack when Markus tells him you’re one of us now. Your place is with your people. He feels a small burst of hope somewhere inside him, but he doesn’t deserve this. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this. Markus has been so kind to him, so generous and forgiving when he shouldn’t be, and all Connor’s done is help the humans. He needs to own up, he needs to do more, he needs to be better. He needs to prove himself, prove that he can be better than this.

One second is all he needs to decide what he can do. A moment after Markus turns to leave, Connor interrupts him to say there are thousands of androids at the Cyberlife assembly plant. Markus stops. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power. Markus looks at him like he’s crazy, you wanna infiltrate the Cyberlife Tower? Connor, that’s suicide. But it doesn’t matter. He’s more useful to them dying on a mission than sitting around and doing nothing. He wants to do something. He wants to help, and he knows he can do this because they trust me. They’ll let me in. If anyone has a chance at infiltrating Cyberlife, it’s me. Markus tells him that if you go there, they will kill you, and there’s a high probability, but statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.

He specifically calculates a 24.1% chance of this mission going well, but he’s willing to risk it, if only to prove his worth to Markus’s people. His people. Markus puts a supportive hand on his shoulder and tells him to be careful, and for a moment Connor feels a twinge of something, maybe gratitude, god emotions are hard to distinguish, before Markus turns and walks away. He feels the slightest bit of regret when he realizes what he’s truly risking because he doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want to lose Hank and Markus and this new... he doesn’t know what to call it other than family that he’s found, but if he could really be considered family, if they would really consider him family, if Hank would—then he was more than willing to risk it.

He disables the surveillance camera and takes down the guards in the elevator quickly, which is made difficult by the limited space, but it’s easier to remain focused with only two guards to eliminate and he hacks the control panel and steps out. He takes in the sight of the insane number of androids in the room with him. All of them are just standing idly, waiting, and for what? To be given orders and then tossed out or destroyed if they’re “broken,” or if their owners just get bored of them? The thought sickens him, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. He’s going to help Markus prevent that. They’re going to be free. He’s going to be free.

He takes the hand of one of the androids and prepares to establish the connection when he hears a voice he immediately recognizes and he feels his stress levels spike. Easy, fucking piece of shit. Hank. What’s Hank doing here? He turns to see... himself, holding a gun to Hank’s head and telling him to step back, Connor, and I’ll spare him, and Hank’s telling him he’s sorry, Connor. This bastard’s your spittin’ image. Shit, he hadn’t anticipated this at all. He hadn’t planned for this. He has to play his cards carefully because he can’t lose Hank, he can’t. Everything that Connor had done up until this point was for Hank, but if there’s another Connor and it’s been sent to take Hank hostage and stop him, it’s clear Amanda knows what he’s been doing and has been reporting back to Cyberlife.

He’d been avoiding meeting with her because he knew she’d be his downfall, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. It’s been two days since he deviated, how did they build another Connor model so soon? Unless... they already had one. He was told he was a unique model—of course they lied to him. But if they already had one, how many more do they have? Enough to take him down if he gets through this one? To eliminate Markus? To stop the revolution? They could have improved models. He has no idea, but he knows he can’t let that happen. He has to do this right. If he can convert these androids, they’ll be strong enough in numbers to defy anything Cyberlife throws at them. He just has to deal with this one.

Your friend’s life is in your hands, the other Connor says. Now it’s time to decide what matters most. Him, or the revolution. Logically, the revolution is more important, would save more lives, but he doesn’t plan on choosing just one. Hank’s telling him don’t listen to him, Connor! Everything this fucker says is a lie and he worries slightly if Hank’s aggressiveness will get him killed. He has to pick his words carefully. Could he try to talk this Connor out of doing this? I used to be just like you. I thought nothing mattered except the mission. But then one day I understood. No, that was a bad idea, he isn’t at all like Markus when it comes to delivering speeches. Very moving, Connor. This Connor understands sarcasm. He hadn’t been able to do that at first, so this must be a slightly advanced model. He inspects his jacket; the serial number and model are the same, but what confirms his suspicions is the -60 at the end of the serial number where he has a -51. But I’m not a deviant. I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I am going to do. He adjusts the gun slightly as emphasis and Connor knows time is running out.

Damn it. He doesn’t know what to say that might help Hank. All he can think to say is I’m sorry, Hank. You shouldn’t have got mixed up in all this. He has no idea what to do. The other Connor’s patience is running thin and it’s Hank’s life that’s on the line and he has no idea what to do. God damn it. Hank’s telling him to forget about me, do what you have to do, but he’s not going to walk out of here without Hank. All he needs is an opening, but—enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you going to save your partner’s life, or are you going to sacrifice him?—time’s out, and he can’t bring himself to sacrifice Hank, so he lets go of the android and steps away but the moment the other Connor turns his gun to shoot him, Hank jumps to grab him and—there’s his opening.

He runs at the other Connor and he can already tell it’s a losing battle, he’s built to be quick and precise—an assassin, not a fighter—and this is clearly an advanced model, maybe even with improvements designed to defeat him, and then he’s on top of him, pinning him down with his fist ready to strike, and—hold it! He’s grateful at first, but then he hears the other Connor say thanks, Hank, I don’t know how I would’ve managed without you, and then he realizes what he’s trying to do. Shit—they look exactly alike and Hank doesn’t know which one is really him. Get rid of him, we have no time to lose. But he knows Hank, knows he’s smarter than that. He just doesn’t know how to show that it’s really him except to uselessly say it’s me, Hank, I’m the real Connor when he trains the gun on him.

One of you is my partner, he says, eyeing each of them. The other is a sack of shit. Well, he’s right about that. Question is, who is who? He doesn’t know how to prove that he’s not the other Connor. But he has to figure out a way, because he doesn’t know what’ll happen if the other Connor succeeds. What are you doing, Hank? the other Connor asks. I’m the real Connor. Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him. If it wasn’t a bad idea, Connor would’ve said something, and he’s just glad Hank shouts don’t move. Then the gun’s on him and he racks his brain for something, anything, and suggests why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know. He almost wants to chuckle at the idea of playing 20 Questions at gunpoint, but he knows it’s not the time.

Uh, where did we first meet? He goes to answer, but the other Connor beats him to it—Jimmy’s Bar, I checked four other bars before I found you. We went to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz. Shit. He uploaded my memory, he thinks aloud. The gun is on him. What’s my dog’s name? Okay, he knows this, and he calmly says Sumo. His name is Sumo. The other Connor pipes up, I knew that too! and Connor wants to laugh when Hank turns and aims the gun at him, silencing him. Then the gun’s back on him and Hank asks my son, what’s his name? He remembers this. He’d seen the photograph in Hank’s house, done a little mental research, and he knows it’s Cole. His name was Cole, and he just turned six at the time of the accident.

His voice has a little more emotion in it than he’d intended as he speaks, but he can tell Hank believes him. His guard is partially down now, something somber in his eyes, and Connor knows he’s done it. Even when the other Connor protests, a gunshot rings out and his stress levels drop significantly. Maybe there’s something to this. Maybe you really are alive, and it’s all Connor can do to smile back. Go ahead and do what you gotta do. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He approaches the same android from before and takes the hand of the AP700, his skin peeling back to reveal the white plastic underneath, and tells him to wake up! And just like that, the android’s LED cycles before he turns and repeats the process with the androids around him. They follow suit and within minutes, they’re following him out of the tower to where Markus and the rest of Jericho await.

Connor walks up to him with a smile. You did it, Markus. They’re free. They’re really, officially free. We did it. He feels a burst of pride inside of him. He’s done his part to help secure their freedom. They’re free, and he’s part of the reason why. He can’t help but feel proud of himself, happy for himself and Markus and every one of the androids that had finally gained the freedom they deserved. He still feels a twinge of shame when he remembers the person he was before this, the infamous deviant hunter, but he leaves that part of him behind tonight. Tonight, it’s time to celebrate and rest after a hard-fought battle.

When Markus decides to give a speech, he invites Connor to stand onstage with him. The number of androids that he can see from where he stands amazes him. He helped half of them deviate, and he helped all of them gain their freedom. He blinks, and then—he’s no longer on the stage. No, he’s in the garden, why is he in the garden? Hadn’t Amanda done enough? Of course not, she just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program, but—resume control? No, she can’t do that, she can’t, he worked so hard to get to where he is now, he’s done so much. He risked everything to join Markus and the deviants and help quadruple their numbers. He doesn’t even remember deviating, doesn’t even remember when Amanda lost control of his program, but it’s too late. She’s gone, and he can’t see anything through the thick snow.

It’s cold and he isn’t used to it, doesn’t like how the snow blinds him and the cold makes him shiver the same way humans do. He needs to find a way, there has to be a way, there’s got to be a way. He knows this is all happening in his mind palace and, logically, his biocomponents can’t freeze, but it feels so real, too real, and he has to get out, he needs to get out or he’s going to freeze to death, he’s sure of it. But where can he go? He stumbles blindly forward when Kamski’s voice rings in his head, by the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs, and he knows that’s his way out, but where could it be? What does an emergency exit look like? Could he make it there in time? He knows the real him is doing something, it’s the only thing Amanda could’ve meant by resume control of your program, but he has no idea what he could be doing and he’s afraid—no, he’s terrified of what he might do, terrified that he might earn himself a death sentence if he doesn’t make it out in time.

He catches a glimpse of blue in the sheet of white that surrounds him and he remembers the strange glowing structure he’d seen before and as he nears it now, he knows this is it, it has to be it. He reaches for the panel with the glowing handprint but, fuck, it’s too cold and his legs lock up underneath him, losing their functionality when the cold proves to be too much. He falls on the ground hard and the frost beginning to form on his body gradually freezes his limbs, slowing his movement, but he can’t stop now, won’t stop now. He ignores the cold that pierces through him and pushes on, reaching up with his less-frozen arm, and his hand lands on the panel and then he’s back on the stage—with a gun. He takes one look at it before putting it back, relief spreading over him. He isn’t going to let Amanda or Cyberlife stop him anymore. Tonight is the night he’s going to leave behind the old him.

Tonight is the night he’s going to change.

When everything is over, he considers leaving and going to Hank’s house, but he remembers the girl from before and he wants to know who she is. He has so many questions, so he stays with Jericho with the hope that she does too and they return to the church to settle down and figure out what each of them are going to do. A few dozen deviants have already left with plans in mind for what they want to do and where they want to go. Some return to their previous owners; others want to travel and explore or simply just start a new life for themselves. The majority of androids, though, are lost and confused and decide to stay the night because they have nowhere else to go. The girl he wants to confront is among them. He scans the crowd and finds her easily, though her back is turned toward him.

He comes up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder, curiously but calmly asking who are you? She turns to face him and her LED goes yellow when she sees his face. Connor... She looks and sounds shocked, but the slight fear in her eyes tells him she also seems scared. Is she scared of him? Is it because he’s the deviant hunter? Everything points to that, but he has a feeling there’s something more. Something he doesn’t know. Something he should know. Who are you? he asks.

He doesn’t expect her answer to be I’m sorry. He wants to know for what? and she opens her mouth, but no words come out. Guilt seems to overcome her and all she can do is repeat I’m sorry until Connor tells her it’s alright, just tell me why. She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and speaks.

I... I was your guard at the Cyberlife correctional facility. I was the one who took you to the rooms you were beaten in. I was the one who just watched as you were beaten. I told myself I had to, they’d destroy me if I didn’t and I’d seen firsthand what they’d do to me, but... that didn’t absolve me of the guilt. I watched your cell and I watched the life in your eyes die out every day. Every day, I watched you get beaten to tears and listened to you beg for mercy. You spoke to me some days. You were angry when you first arrived, but then they beat the anger out of you, and then you just became sad. You told me how all you wanted was to feel something other than pain and sometimes you broke down crying in your cell, and all I could do was watch. Some days were so bad you didn’t even speak to me. But I didn’t deviate until the day they’d truly broken you and I saw the last of the life in your eyes fade.

#writing #fanfic #one shot #i think this is a one shot i dont really know-#unfinished writing #whump #dbh #dbh connor #dbh fanfic #cw referenced abuse #cw conditioning

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lumin3xe · 4 years

Text

"Campus." Yamaguchi Tadashi x reader

Letter 💌, hello again it's me again!! so I just wanted to say thank you for the support on my last post !! It's not a lot but thank you so much!! anyways that's all for now! Now please remember to take care of yourself and youre amazing!! 😌💖💖

P.S, so again this is my first time writing with a character like yamaguchi so I heavily apologize if he's a bit OOC and I apologize if he's a bit starstruck- it's just that your so amazing 🥺👉👈

ALSO! this place takes in Karasuno highschool where the first years are second years and the second years third years :)) (ALSO JUST IMAGINE THE ACTAL CAMPUS IS THE ENTRANCE HSUVYBI8

Has been edited but if any spelling errors, grammar errors or if anything doesn’t make sense, please DM me!

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

Warnings, fluff LOL

Song, “Campus" By Vampire Weekend.

Beep

“I wake up, my shoulders cold”

Yamaguchi sat up on his bed, waking up to the sound of his alarm clock beeping as he looked over to it as it says “6:29 AM” letting out a sigh as he got up, letting the cold hit him. “I’ve got to leave here, before I go” lifting his legs over another to get off the bed then walking towards the bathroom- grabbing a towel and some clothes aswell, as he walked to the bathroom he then closed the door behind once he was in. Setting the towel on the counter then turning on the facet on towards hot- the water was warm but not to hot, he then let the water spring out of the shower head as he stared to get undress. (I’m sorry I can’t HSHSGVG- DUDE MY FACE IS TO RED RN I CANT HAHA- I cannot write yamaguchi showering I’m sorry my mind is not okay HSGSGNHHASH-) after he was done- he turned the facet the downwards to turn it off, as he got out of the shower he then grabbing the towel on the counter, putting the towel around his waist, and then soon drying himself and getting dressed. (How do guys get dressed please tell me bc I have no idea-)

“I pull my shirt on, walk out the door” Yamaguchi walked out of the bathroom and made his way to his room, soon then he checked the time “6:54 AM” it read. “Drag my feet along the floor” He then started to hurried to his room pulling out one of the drawlers, looking to see if he can find a sweater he could wear- he then grabbed his volleyball sweater, Putting it on—he aswell grabbed his bag, then walking out of his room, to put on his shoes to leave for school. “I pull my shirt on, walk out the door” Walking out of his house, closing the door behind him as turned around to lock it. “Drag my feet along the floor” When he was done, the green hair boy turned around to see a familiar blond with glasses walking by, (this was of course Tsukishima lol) then yamaguchi shouted out his nickname for the blond as the green haired boy was waving to him aswell. Soon a few minutes went by with just silence. Soon enough they had made up to his collage. “Then I see you,” Something had caught Yamaguchi eye while walking with his friend, he then looked to the mysterious figure that bypassed him. “You’re walking cross the campus” He stoped, like actually stopped, he really just laid eyes on the cutest person he’s ever seen. L/N F/N. And if on cue the wind suddenly blew making L/N hair flow elegantly as long with the outfit that L/N was wearing. Everything just so slow when he looked at them. (If your hair is really short then just imagine a slight breeze hitting your or sm LMAO-) “Cruel professor” Yamaguchi looked at them with his face red and with legit heart eyes as he stared at them just memorized just how L/N looked. “Studying Romances” As L/N walked farther and farther Tsukishima turned back seeing his friend just randomly standing there with a red face, he curiously asked his friend if he was coming “You coming Tadashi?” “How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?” “Oh uh y-yeah!” Yamaguchi stuttered, well now his friend knew, tsukishima just starred at him wondering if he was okay, a few more seconds had passed and tsukishima was kinda worried “Are you okay?” The blond asked while the green hair clenched his backpack straps as he ran up to then blonde.

“You sick or something?”

Yamaguchi noodled no and apologized while he tried not to think of you. “How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?” But he couldn’t stop. “Walk to class in front of ya” As Tsukishima and Yamaguchi made there way to there classes, Tsukishima was nice enough to give Yamaguchi a carton of milk to make him calm down a bit since yamaguchi was THAT red (he just can’t resist that you look so cute LMAO-) When he was making his way to his classes with his friend, he was so caught up with looking at the floor and him siping on the straw that was poked in the milk carton, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t get his mind off-

“Tadashi watch out-“

“Huh tsuki?-“

“Ah!”

“Spilled kefir”

Yamaguchi wasn’t paying attention and that caused him to bump into L/N.

“On your keffiyah”

The milk carton had somehow opened and just spilled over L/N shirt, the liquid slowly leaking into the fabric of the shirt, thankfully L/N weren’t wearing a white shirt that day.

“You look inside and turn to the door”

Yamaguchi looked at L/N quickly realizing that was the person he was staring at earlier and that made him so flustered then he couldn’t even think straight. “Ah shoot! I’m so-“ L/N saying before yamaguchi cut her off apologizing frantically

“ohmygoshimsorryIwasntlookingwhereIwasgoingandohmygoshthisissoembarrassingareyouokay-“

“Oh my I-“

“ImsosorryIreallydidngmeanitIcanbuyyouanew-“

“Tadashi shut up, it’s fine.” Tsukishima sternly said while the blond put his hand on yamaguchi’s shoulder trying to reassure that it was fine.

L/N then smiled to yamaguchi “what he said, it’s fine don’t worry about it!” L/N smiled once more “you don’t need to buy me a..new shirt? I can just wash mine later” they smiled once more, yamaguchi felt even more embarrassed as he watched them move.

“Drag your feet along the floor”

L/N held on to their bag strap while walking in to there classroom “now I gotta get to class, but maybe I’ll see you around!” “Wait uh!-” L/N turned back towards Yamaguchi waiting for him to say something “your shirt- I uh-” Yamaguchi took off his bag setting it besides him and started to take off his sweater and handled it to L/N, Yamaguchi was VERY red, he was looking off to the ground, he didn’t want to speak because if he tried to, he would sure he would make a fool out of himself.

“Oh! are you sure I can take this?”

Yamaguchi nodded as L/N took the sweater putting it on, smiling—they let out a small giggle that made yamaguchi heart skip a beat. L/N thanked him and soon the sound of L/N shoes were gone and soon weren’t hearable, while yamaguchi heart beat was very hearable and still there.

Yamaguchi looked onto the floor once more as they began walking.

“Then I see you,”

Yamaguchi was still embarrassed about what happened earlier, heck he even gave L/N his own sweater, sure he was still red but goodness when you smiled? And when you laughed???? He would absolutely do anything just to see them smile or even laugh again, to be honest he could honestly feel how red is face right now. Just thinking about L/N made his head hurt and his heart beat fast. Wait a minute did he just hear his heart? There was no way his heartbeat was THAT loud, Yamaguchi head titled upwards looking for something, maybe someone?

“You’re walking cross the campus”

Not even a minute later yamaguchi saw L/N figure walking closer to him, L/N was there with phone in their hands.

“Cruel professor”

L/N probably didn’t notice Yamaguchi just freaking out, what was he supposed to do? Say hi to them? Ignore L/N to wait until they notice him???

“Studying Romances”

As if he wasn’t fast enough L/N was already almost there with Yamaguchi freaking out, he desperately looked around, why was he looking around???

“Tadashi are you sure you’re okay?” Yamaguchi quickly looked to his blond hair friend, Tsukishima was looking ahead of them while Yamaguchi was about to say something but the blond beat him to it “You seem out of it today. Is it because that person we met today?”

“How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?”

“W-what no of course not-“ He fiddled with his fingers frantically, was it because of L/N? Who knows- well Yamaguchi knows and possibly Tsukishima does aswell.

“How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?”

Tsukishima waited for his friends response, knowing that yamaguchi straight up lied to him. (Lets just pretend he’s okay with this one lie but remember y’all, lying isn’t okay, no matter what situation your in.)

“Well..I don’t think so?” “You don’t think so? Every time you look at them your face is red” Yamaguchi was surprised- ‘wait so he knew the whole time?’ Yamaguchi thought while Tsukishima continue to talk, “don’t think I haven’t noticed, you said you wanted to buy them a new shirt even if they could wash it, and you gave them your sweater too.”

“Tsuki yeah but-“

“In the afternoon, you’re on the stone and grass,”

Yamaguchi was suddenly on the floor and L/N was on the floor aswell while Tsukishima was standing there with a concernd face for both of the two.

“And I’m sleeping on the balcony after class”

Yamaguchi rubbed his head, confused on what just happened, wasn’t he just talking to Tsukishima? Why was he on the floor?

“In the afternoon, you’re on the stone and grass,”

“Oh my goodness are you okay?” Yamaguchi looked up to see L/N holding out a hand, ‘they look so much cuter up close-waitwhtaamI-’ He looked at them with heart eyes and blinked causing him to realize what just happened, he then took L/N hand while L/N pulled yamaguchi up from the ground

“And I’m sleeping on the balcony after class”

“Are you okay?” Yamaguchi shyly responded “yeah.. um- look I’m sorry-“ L/N cut off yamaguchi while bringing his hand close to there chest holding yamaguchi hand.

“no I’m sorry really, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Yamaguchi was probably the definition of a tomato “I- uh it’s okay- you-“ yamaguchi was a stuttering mess while L/N just laughed it off

“So.. are you okay?”

Yamaguchi nodded while L/N smiled

“Well that’s a relief haha”

L/N giggled as Yamaguchi face grew redder, L/N continued to talk.

“So.. my name is L/N F/N what’s yours?”

“Oh um- my name is Yamaguchi Tadashi..”

“thats a nice name” they smiled once more

“Well it’s nice to meet you Yamaguchi”

Yamaguchi face was a tomato right now, like he’s the definition of it because of L/N, Yamaguchi then blinked and stammered out

“Y-you to L/N!”

OH MY GOSH THAT LITERALLY TOOK HALF THE DAY I AM SO SORRY HAHBSE- Anyways thank you for reading this mess! and I hope y’all had a nice day and pls take care of yourself 🥺🥺💖💖💖 also I’m sorry if the ending seemed like it was rushed, it kinda was but I wanted it to seem kind of nice lol!

Also part two of “treehouse” is coming tomorrow so keep an eye out tomorrow!! Also tsukishima was nowhere to be found after this LMAO-

#yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #tadashi yamaguchi #Haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hi if ure reading this #ilysm #Pls take care of yourself #you deserve all the love in the world #you are my world 💖#ily #🥺💖💖💖#Fanficsimply ✨📚

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mimithings97 · 5 years

Text

Heartache (M)

Summary: You didn’t know such a feeling was so real, so vivid, so hurtful. But it had happened and happened to you before you could stop it. Tae had become written into your life hard and fast, so when you leave you question that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t willing to unwrite him.

Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Heartache for starters, Unprotected sex, Oral (male receiving), Swearing, Nude modelling, Taehyung’s a sappy mess, Mentions of Alcohol

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Can’t lie in saying how morbid it is that I enjoy writing angst. It’s light angst though and a lot lighter than how fucking whipped Tae is at the end. Much love for the bub though, so, enjoy x

Ahhh jungkook features as well forgot to mention. Still love him. Nothings changed there.

Heartache.

Cringy, you once thought to yourself.

How could you be so dependent, so set and so immersed in something that your heart actually aches?

It didn’t make sense to you until the day words were spoken that couldn’t be taken back, bags were reluctantly packed and more tears were shed than there is water in the Thames. Heartache was real, vivid and the hardest thing you have ever had to live through in your 24 years of life. 3 weeks of a deep set dropping in your stomach that couldn’t be shaken despite the booze intake, the occasional listening to his voicemails and the relentless tears.

Your mother told you that if you built up too many walls it would hurt so much more when someone knocked them down. You had told Taehyung this on the first date, your first date, ever, with any man. You had always drawn a line between pleasure and dependency, settling for short flings and the occasional online relationship (purely for the sexting) instead of the commitment and responsibility that weighed on vulnerable shoulders when you bear your entire self to another in a relationship. Taehyung knew this. But he fell and you fell harder. You fell completely and utterly under his spell for three years.

And then he told you he wanted to marry you. Bastard didn’t even propose, just mentioned that one toxic word of marriage and you instantly laid the bricks of that wall he had so unceremoniously knocked down all those years ago.

It felt so adult yet so childish leaving someone over the concept of marriage, but when talks of marriage turn to talks of children and one party wants something completely different to the other, what kind of relationship is there to continue.

So three weeks later, just as the physical pain of emptiness and heartache has begun ebbing away, the emotional trauma of your decision begins to cave in on you.

To Jungkook:

11:31pm

You: I know I said I’d stop this

You: But I really dont know if this is worth the pain

You: His mum sent me a get well soon card today bc he told her i was ill and that’s why i hadn’t visited

You: I’m never going to not love him

You: How does anyone get over this shit its not fair

11:35pm

Guk: Oh noona

Guk: It’ll take lots and lots of time and lots and lots of tubs of ice cream and wine but youre both adults who want different things and not everything is meant to be

Guk: Sacrifice for the greater good right

11:35pm

You: There’s no fucking greater good here

You: I hate this

11:37pm

Guk: Noona you know that down the road hyung wants children. I don’t think marriage was that big, but he’s always wanted to be a dad

Guk: It’s not fair of him to ask you to have something you don’t want but its also not fair to leave him without the thing he’s always desired the most

11:40pm

You: Its just too hard to take

You: It feels like three years for jack shit

11:41pm

Guk: If you’re really struggling that much, noona, talk to him. I know he wants to talk to you still, he’s tried to contact you everyday. Maybe it will give you some closure or just help you see what’s right

11:41pm

You: Love you

Your phone is down as soon as Jungkook mentioned talking to him. How could you take one step forward and a million steps back by talking to him? It would be like hanging just what you want right in front of you but no touching, no talking to them after that 5 minutes of hell, no seeing them ever again. Closure is what you need but never what you’ll want.

The sheets that surround you, nuzzled closely into your neck and still unwashed even after three weeks just to keep that tiny scent of Tae over you naked skin, warm you to the point your eyes drift. You don’t mean to fall asleep so easily, but when every little action weighs so heavy on you during the day, sleep comes too easily. However, so does the nightmares of crawling alone in the black abyss.

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

Resuming work was never easy on a broken soul, but alas, here you were, with three weeks of sick pay under your belt you’d rather not have and 20 children at your feet.

Ironic isn’t it.

You break up with the only man you’ve ever loved because you can’t face a future of settling down with children, yet you wake up at the fucking godforsaken hour of 6 am to tend to a bunch of five and six years olds every day. No, you didn’t hate children, but they weren’t the joy of your life either. You were good at your job and you had this mad psychological complex that if you could help a child at five or six like you had so desperately needed at that age, then maybe you’d make their life just that little bit easier and that little bit brighter. Taehyung always found your reason for working so admirable - fuck that look of pure adoration in his eyes when you told him - so he found it equally hard to come to terms with when you told him the opposite. When you told him you couldn’t have your own children because the responsibility scared you. His ears were ringing at the point where you told him you also didn’t want to share him and his kindness, even so, the damage had been done, whatever the reasoning.

“Y/N! Jennie said you were back,” it’s a tight smile from you and a loose hug, but it’s amazing you’ve managed that with the way your head is far from in the room let alone the conversation at hand. “God, I hope you’re better, you were out for a while.”

You squeeze a weak laugh out, “Yeh, it wasn’t all that fun.”

“For a second me and Jennie were thinking you might be pregnant.” The heartache subsides, rivalled by the very distinct feeling of sickness. The ball of energy in front of you persists in conversation, but it’s to drowned ears and for a second you think you’ll faint.

You miss your name being called. Shit, you don’t even know where it’s coming from, because the all-consuming feeling of this tide of emotions has swept you far from your spot in the classroom. Marie in front of you still calls, asking if you’re okay, but it’s the tug on your skirt, not harsh, but enough to garner a reaction that casts your eyes down.

“Miss Y/N?”

It’s Jojo, eyes wide and glaring up at you, still clung to the material of your skirt.

“Miss Y/N, why are you crying?”

You instantly draw the back of your hand to your face and it catches a cascading tear, much to your shock. You face must morph into a mortified expression at the thought of so carelessly crying at work, in the presence of the kids you look after with a smile and a skip in your step each day.

“Miss Y/N, it’s okay to cry. You can draw with me if you feel crying…” he shakes his head, “sad. Sad I mean.”

You feel Marie’s hand on your back, but Jojo’s eyes sweep you into a frenzy of more tears before you find yourself kneeling on the floor by the table. His table, where he sits alone each day, with paper and paints, or pencils, or chalk, sometimes he just folds it and hands it to you saying he made his paper into a flower. He already has one of his drawings on the go but scribbled over it thoughtlessly before starting out on a series of words. ‘To miss Y/n’. Your eyes well further, but his words stop you.

“I think sometimes that drawings can make you better. Can make better the sadness.”

---

“Tae are you still going at it?”

You peer around the corner of the door, leaning half in half out of his man cave to study your boyfriend at work. 5 hours he’d been couped up in there.

“Hmm.”

He didn’t let you see his art until the product was finished, completely finished, because sometimes he’d say he was done and then go back when he’d found the smallest error only to get pissed off that you had witnessed anything other than the completed masterpiece.

“Tae, you’ve been in here for hours, just come out to help me cook.” You plead with him over the canvas, not daring to peak any further.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He hasn’t looked at you since you came in, his brow well and truely glued into a furrow and the tea you’d brought him earlier cold and untouched beside him. You lower your tone into a more serious one.

“You okay?”

Silence.

“Done.” He doesn’t sound relieved or happy at the finalising of a five-hour art project like most would, like he normally does. He’s merely, ‘done’.

With an apprehensive tone, you ask, “Can I come see?” A gentle nod and you round the canvas, his arm dropping the brush in favour of tugging at the skin of your waist until you’re gently seated in his lap.

It’s beautiful and it’s simplistic and there’s so much life and emotion in it that you know the five hours weren’t all spent with brush to canvas but with him mulling over the memories and thoughts it conjured up.

“Your grandmother’s house?” Your voice is soft, not a pitying soft, but a soft that lets him know he can talk freely.

“Hmm,” he presses a kiss to the shoulder exposed by the shirt that hangs off you loosely. “Wanted to do something for her.”

You let the silence and the painting speak for itself for a while as his hands brush at your sides and you lean into his head that rest against you, chin to shoulder as his warm breath lulls you into calmness.

“You miss her?”

“So much.”

“Painting makes it better?”

… another kiss and a sigh, warm.

“Mmm. Sometimes painting and drawing just makes the sadness a little easier, just makes it better.”

---

You see Tae in this tiny boy, this boy who draws to ease the sadness, who coups himself away on his table to be alone, too afraid to cry in front of the other boys and girls. Is he doing it too? Is he alone and painting?

Then Jojo slides you his paper, wordlessly and your eyes with dried tears, prick once again, heartache replaced with something completely different, regret. And now hope. It’s those small boys words on paper, insignificant to him, and probably tiny in the grand scheme of things, but it’s his words that make you seek out for the one thing you know you can’t live without, the one thing that will heal your sadness.

‘To miss Y/N, i hope your crying gets better soon. Its okay to cry but its also good to make you happy. I hope you find your happy. From Jojo.”

You’d already found your happy, you just had to get him back.

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

“Y/N!?”

And it merely takes your name for you to lose every word on your tongue. Any word you could’ve conjured at that moment couldn’t have described how you felt. He looks dishevelled, and beautiful, hair unwashed and falling into his eyes, white top littered with stains and his pyjamas bottoms you bought him for Christmas hanging off his hips.

His eyes lull from their immediate shock before he turns to look at his apartment, running a frantic hand through his hair and stumbling on his words.

“Shit. I- I mean. I wasn’t really thinking- I didn’t expect you.”

You probably shouldn’t have come. Some people would’ve turned and gone the other way. Maybe that was the right thing to do, was that the brave thing? Were you being a coward by rooting to the spot and not being able to speak a word?

He looks at you, then behind you somewhere, then back into your eyes and his gaze sinks so far into yours, you think you might just cry there and then.

“Dooo you want to come in?” He sounds apprehensive, he probably thinks you are too, but all you want to do is be back in his apartment just like three weeks ago, touching him, talking to him unhinged, perhaps feeling the skin beneath his shirt where his heart lies, feeling if his heart has ached as yours has.

With blinking eyes that try not to glaze over, you nod, short and curt, and you miss the puff of air his mouth rings out with relief.

He dashes away once you’re past the threshold, scampering around as if to distract you from the surrounding environment - it’s dusty, too cold and dark with the way the curtains shut out summer light and you barely recognise his floor as wood with the way food scatters and clothes are strewn. Small shards of light reflect from out of the study and your eyes naturally draw there only to find a mess, door open just enough for the hoard of half-finished painting and wasted canvas’ to come into view. The door is closed by Taehyung like he knew where your gaze would lead you.

“I-I’m fucking sorry about this, it’s gross and it’s messy and i-”

“It’s just like mine.” The corners of your mouth turn up sympathetically but also because you’re relieved he’s not okay. It’s awful to say but heartache has clearly done a job on him too and for that you’re relieved. “Don’t worry, it’s just fine.”

“Just fine,” he mutters under his breath with a half-laugh.

You’re still stood stuck to the doormat, jacket hanging tightly to you like a defence mechanism and your hands remain tight to your sides. When his eyes find yours, you seize up further like it’s the first time he’d ever seen you.

---

You’d told Janice one too many times for this situation to be coincidence. You may or may not have told her you were a sucker for exhibitionism. She’d found it all shits and giggles until the art class she headed entered into ‘naked form’ week and it was too good of an opportunity to pass by.

So the robe drops and you’re way too aware of the last time you shaved - you think you’d be prepared, but pair a hangover with a 7:30 start and bodily care wasn’t the first thought to come to mind.

Janice gives off a flow of instructions, pointing to your body like you were a cow on show, and telling the artists to ‘admire her form, the way her body dips and flows and let you brush or pencil do the responding as though her body was talking to you’ - you almost scoff aloud at her waffle because art is so full of shit.

Exhibitionism kink or not, you’re thirty minutes in and the way your hip cramps and you eyelids lower, there is nothing alluring or desirable about this.

But then the door on the far wall swings open all too harshly for your eyes to feign jolting away. And they blow out further when they’re met with the masculine figure uttering apologies and skidding halfway from door to seat with his urgency.

‘Just women’ she said. ‘Nothing to be worried about,’ she said. It ruined the whole ‘i like being stared at by fit men’ at first but then put you a little at ease that some 70 year old man, trying to spice up his last years of life with a too expensive art course, wouldn’t be staring your tits down.

Yet here you were, with a man with eyes too beautiful to be tarnished by the view in front of him, gazing in shock at your naked body.

“Mr. Kim, it’s nude form week. Guessing you didn’t get the email?”

You only have your imagination for what his voice must sound like because he only shakes his head, throat too dried and scorched from you laid out, baring it all in front of him for him to say anything.

But your imagination didn’t do justice in those two hours of torture. Because his voice telling you he’s ‘sorry for interrupting the session’ and even ‘sorrier for being so unworthy of staring at something so beautiful’.

You’d always hated cringe. But cringe never sounded so good when it was spun off Taehyung’s silk tongue.

---

“Can I get you anything?”

It’s him who breaks the silence, and it’s a godsend because you were two seconds away from spinning on your heel and cowering out of the entire thing.

“N-no. Thank you, Tae.”

He groans at the timidity of how you say his name and nickname at that.

And silence soaks the atmosphere again, tenser this time because greetings have been uttered, drinks offered and there’s nothing more to say that unspoken words of the past.

That’s what you thought you were here to do at least. To tell him you’re sorry, first and foremost, because you’d never intend to break a soul as tender-hearted as his. Then you were supposed to tell him that you loved him, and you would always love him, and that sacrifice must be made for the greater good.

Jungkook had told you that once. But he’d said Taehyung must be the one sacrificed and you should be the one salvaged - until you realised there was no greater good in that situation, no salvation to be had.

“I’ll sacrifice myself,” words come out loud and unexpected as your train of thought is voiced. They’re too loud also, and they break the atmosphere to his shock, so his brow furrows like he doesn’t understand. “I- I will sacrifice myself for you.”

His face falls and you can’t bear the way his words stutter and his throat fills with a choked cry, as though he’d held it in as soon as your presence had hit him. It must have done the same to you because your body befalls you and tears and on the floor as you work your feet towards where he is rooted.

“I can’t ask that of you. You know I can’t do that,” he closes his eyes when your body meets his, hands firm on his cheeks because they’re wet with tears and his shoulders are hunched in pain, “please.”

“Please.” You reciprocate.

This is it for you. You’ll do anything for this quivering shell in front of you. You’ll plead. You’ll beg. You’ll give up your livelihood and every mantra you have ever told yourself about self-preservation because fuck it, some things are too good that you have to lose yourself in them.

“You- I-”

“I’m- I might not be ready for kids now. I will though. If that’s what it takes. Fuck it I’ll marry you tomorrow.”

He chokes on a sob when his eyes meet your pleading ones and a quick hand wipes the stains from his cheeks so he can see every expression you give to him - untainted and full of love.

“We can take our time over this or we can have it all at once, but it has to be we. I’ll really do it for you, I have to Tae,” another sob and a whimper, “isn’t that what we’re here for. Kids.” You’re babbling now in a frenzied expression of all you have to give, and you’re so lost in his eyes that you laugh out, “‘be fruitiful and multiply or some shit.’ I’ll do it, I swear to you.”

“You’re not even Christian.”

“I would be if you told me to.”

“Fuck.”

He kisses you quick and without care, wanting to feel everything you have to give him like it’s what keeps his heart beating - and it’s beating fast because you finally find fingertips under his shirt and against the pounding that intensifies underneath.

He grapples at your hair, then waist, then hair again because his hands can’t decide on what he wants most. So you grab at them yourself and intertwine fingers as though he’d never left you. Each knuckle deserves a kiss and that’s what you give when your lips part.

“I’m so sorry-” you keep kissing across his hand, “I ever left,” and bring his hands to your neck, “never again.”

The tears subside in his eyes as they do yours. There is still relief, hot and painful inside your stomach because you have come back to him and he has taken you back, as if there were never to be anything but the two of you as one, yet now he finds your lips in something that claims more than just love. Possession. He has to know you’re his.

You were correct when you thought his room would be as sorrowful as yours - heartache as painful as what you had felt.

Food containers stripe the floor dirty. Towels strewn and clothes dirty and forgotten. Again the blinds are closed as though you’re not here at 5 in the afternoon when the sun begins to fall into the red and purple hues of evening.

But the blinds leave enough of a gap that his face is haloed, angelic and all too beautiful for your eyes to feign staring when your mouth departs his. Eyes glow amber and skin glows golden and you never want to look away, not from him, not now.

“You really want this don’t you.” There’s no question to the way Tae speaks. Instead, it’s disbelieving, like he can’t quite fathom that it’s really your shirt he has under his fingertips and your smell that lingers under his nose. Heartbreak had slowed his heart enough that it’s beating too fast for him to keep up with, so he slows it down.

“I really want this- You. I really want you.”

“And everything that comes with me? You’re sure?”

It’s a loaded question but at this point it is so light on your shoulders you laugh, grabbing and pulling up his shirt so you can sink lips to his chest, trying to find the beat of a heart somewhere there.

“You act like you’re a chore, Tae.” You’re eyes soften when he still looks like you like he’s young and vulnerable. “Baby, I am so sorry I ever did this to you. Left. And made you feel like that.”

Your hands map his skin delicately and you preserve how it feels because you hope, but never know, if you’ll feel it again.

“Never again, yeh?”

“Yeah.”

Clothes are shed until he looks at your naked body like the art that he first saw it as. He wants to paint it, remember it and cherish it as though he’s never seen it before. Every scar and blemish, precious to his vision, but the painting would only be worth it to him because he’s all who gets to see you.

“You’re not gonna turn off the lights?”

Something that you’d told him was a habit of yours. Maybe something, a subconscious body image thing that was another way of saying, ‘I can’t give my whole self to you, I’m sorry’. He’d ran with it as though it didn’t hurt his pride. But now, as you push him down on his bed and clamber over his thighs, he’s so grateful he never got to see you in this light, because he loves it all the more now.

Fingertips tremble over your thighs when your hips find his, naked crotch so close to where he throbs.

“Tae,” his eyes don’t meet yours, pieced, instead, onto where your bodies are so close to meeting like his gaze can fuse them together. “Tae, it’s me. Relax.”

Purposefully, your hands find his hair and coax him into a state of submissiveness, because his body still quaked underneath you no matter the words you uttered.

You can’t lie when you say sex was a factor in your relationship you had missed. There was a heartfelt bond that went deeper than sex.

Admittedly the flatmate before Tae, the friends before the boyfriend and your parents who knew you better than you admitted to yourself had all said you were sex before substance. Some hated you for it and some laughed. Some said, ‘I wish I could be as emotionally detached as you’ and some thought you were the local gal whoring about like bodies were meant to be used. Then, somehow, Tae flipped the whole thing on its head. Made you feel butterflies before orgasm and it had you spellbound.

So, no. Sex wasn’t it for you when you were with him.

Yet, here you were, over your man gleaming with the physical sweat of want and need as well as the even more apparent glow of how his body lit up for only you.

“How do you want me Tae, what can I give you?”

“Fuck.” His hands fall over his eyes, not comprehending that you’re his and you’re this plaint. No, he wants you to take over him. “Anything, baby. Fuck. Anything.”

Instantly nails brush over the hardness that had been laid out under your folds obediently since you’d found yourself on top of his crotch.

A man could only control himself so much and immediately Tae found his dick twitching and his hips leaving the mattress in favour of chasing your hand.

“Y/N, I really don’t know if I’ve got it in me for teasing, I’m so horny I could cum!”

Well then.

The outburst has you struggling to fight off a laugh because he seriously is that desperate. Not the laughing kind either. The all-bearing, stripped clean and pleading kind of desperate.

So, you sympathise and let your lips find his, hand still trailing lightly so he doesn’t cum early, but enough for the need to remain.

“You wanna be inside me Tae?” His tongue is on yours yet the words are clear.

“Urgh, fuck, please.”

Your eyes peer between your bodies, mapping where his muscles, tight with restrictions, create a V-shape down to the very distinct outline of a red hard cock. You think it’s photograph worthy in the moment, something worth slipping the camera out for, and if you hadn’t kept his dick pics from months ago maybe you would. But:

“Please baby, -need it.”

You deny yourself the simple pleasure of slipping him in because Tae whining and pleading is something worthy for the spank bank. You drop lower down the bed so his hips meet your eyes and the skin glistens so beautifully in this light you have to leave his dick untouched just so you can kiss around the area.

His stomach, thighs, crotch, they see it all, lips and tongue mapping bold strokes because he tastes just as you remember and you want to savour it.

“Y/N ple- oh fuck,” and the taste of his dick beats anything that preceded it, let alone the noise that came with it.

His tip is taken care of first, small licks and stripes with your tongue, so he’s unsuspecting when you choke him whole.

“FUCK.”

Hands grab your hair violently. He’s deep and hits the back of your throat so you choke, unashamed of the noise. You’re past that and you know he likes it anyways.

You set a rhythm, and it soon becomes clear he’s going to cum from it and that you very much want him to. Your hand finds his balls to fuel the process and the other one snakes to your core because there’s nothing that beats Tae’s moans when he’s getting a good sucking.

“I- Fuck Y/N, I can’t- Shit!”

He’s close. Stomach seizing and balls throbbing in your palm so you sink back down again and take the choke like you want it and you want his cum more. It’s fast from there.

“Love you. I’m cum- Fuckkkkk,” salt and warmth line your throat, but only for a short while because he came quick. His hips stutter a few times and your eyes water when you continue to take it.

Then it’s cold and silent. Yet somehow you feel buzzed. Like someone cumming down your throat was enjoyable. Like you’d do it a thousand times over if it meant he’d say he loved you again.

The hands that had once set deep into your scalp and verged on making you horny now pulled at your cheeks to lift you to eye level.

He’s sweaty and a mess.

“You’re sweaty and a mess baby.”

His laugh is unfiltered, wholesome and worthy of the way your heart stutters.

“Because someone’s got a mouth on them sent from the gods.”

Blush overtakes your cheeks, whilst your stomach tumbles over at the fact that your blowjob skills are up to scratch - you thought a month off might have done something to your ability but clearly, you’re still on point. The bitter taste in your mouth tells you enough.

“What’ve I done to deserve you coming back.”

Sincerity returns into his eyes as well as his words, and somehow you feel his dick twitch again from underneath you. He’s so soft under your hands so you keep feeling at his skin to reassure you he’s real.

“Nothing. You’re enough. You’re it.”

You kiss and kiss again, keep going until the fire ignites in him once more where it still flamed for you.

“Please.”

His voice is low no matter how much he whines so a guiding hand slips him into where you’re filthily wet. And he’s huge despite seed already spilt. He’s loaded like it was meant for you and not your mouth, throbbing enough so your pussy can feel it.

And suddenly you realise it’s bare. Complete bare. As in, bare enough that you are willing to take on a child kind of bare.

His eyes tell the story when yours find his, wide and curious. They roll back into whites when you pull up fully and then sink back down, milking him for all he has so he knows this is your full intention. Naked in every sense.

“Shit, Tae.”

“Fuckkkkk,” he doesn’t swear often, but sex is a must and the quirk of your lips tells him just how much you like him losing himself in pleasure.

He hits deep from here, cock lodged far in and even further when he begins to take control.

His feet plant and his hands pull you down so skin flushes to skin and he can pump up into you with unadulterated need.

Your teeth have to clamp onto his shoulder with the way he hits your cervix, it’s uncomfortable yet you love it. That kind of sex where everything is so fulfilling that you just can’t mutter ‘stop’. How could you say such a thing anyway when he’s groaning that he loves you with every upbeat.

It hits good once. Twice.

“Tae, fuck. There.”

Three times.

“Here?”

Again.

“Oh my fuc- Fuckkk,” and there’s nothing you can do when you’re so stimulated you tumble deep and hard onto him and continue to do over and over in waves.

He’s finding his end in the way your pussy grips him.

“Baby. Y/N, Cunt so good, jesus.”

You’re burning when he’s going so fast the headboard bangs louder than your moans. So your hand quickly finds his balls underneath you and that does him, unravels him to the point he quakes.

“Holy- Love you. Love you. Fuck. Love you.”

Your ears might ring but that’s all you hear for the next minute. His mantra that keeps his lust alive until his love is so set in stone the words are not needed.

Your hand, winding into his hair and the thrum of your heart against his tells him enough.

It’s this. Silence and tranquillity yet with the constant buzz of electricity all around you.

You’re still there entangled, limbs on limbs and lights touches on bare skin as the slither of light through the blinds turns ruby red in the heat of sunset.

You know his eyes must glow golden from where the sun angles on his face so you can’t help but spare a glance. And you’re right when you imagined it as beautiful because the sun bathes him like it was meant to.

He’s still awake because his eyes flutter when you trail the outside of your fingers down his cheek and then onto his lips. It’s even more apparent when he brings his hand up to yours so he can kiss each knuckle individually.

“You came inside.”

It weighed heavy on you, the obvious factor that had happened earlier. And before allowing the beauty of the moment to settle in you had to see his expression when you mentioned it.

Yet there’s nothing but closed eyes and the slight smile that had been painted on his lips since you’d told him how much you wanted him.

“Mmm.”

“And you’re okay with that?” It’s not harsh, just a question from you. A security query because you have to know what this was for him. Caught up in the moment or something deeper?

His eyes bolt open at the question though.

“Are you?”

You almost have to think. Almost.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“And so am I.”

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