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#I’ve made my own bed but I’m gonna complain about it while I lie in it LMAO
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Once again coping with the fact that 1. I’m bad at remembering that I should write for myself because I enjoy it and not just for validation, and 2. I also gotta remember that pretty much all my fics and art are for less popular characters/ships which just means they’re gonna get less attention🤷🏽
Just makes me kinda sad sometimes, but it also makes me adore the few of y’all that put out for the less popular characters of a franchise even more🥺❤️
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vent-channel · 14 days
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I hate being autistic I’m not gonna lie.
Today it was leavers. I only go into school for exams and I can’t handle assembly halls so I wasn’t there. My friends were though. And they sent plenty of pictures on the group chat of them in the fields after shirt signing, and them in the park after school.
Why can’t I be fucking happy like that? Why don’t I get to do a normal school life? Why don’t I get to do leavers assembly and shirt signing? And it’s not as simple as just going in even though I hate it. At first I was happy I never had to go back to it, but I’m becoming disconnected from my friends. I’m lonely. And I feel like I’m missing out. I always feel like I’m missing out.
Am I jealous? I feel a bit like a bad person complaining about my friends happiness. It seems like they don’t even miss me. I missed them, when they were not at school.
I got therapy and an autism diagnosis and basically got told my life will fucking suck forever but it’s fineeee because I can learn to manage it.
I’m missing school and my parents can’t just tell me to get over it and go because I need an education because I will sit in the toilets and cut myself until I feel dizzy and call them to pick me up. Whenever I go to that place I feel sick. I feel like anybody would jump me if I’m not cautious enough. They probably would, if there were not consequences, most people there have a disgusting moral compass.
I wish I was still suicidal? Can someone give me less fucking reasons to live because I have far too many. I hate that I’m technically getting better because I’m getting worse. Now the damage is irreversible and irreparable but at least I’m recovering, right?
I’m so lonely. Whenever my friends even look at me and wave I get so happy I internally shut down so I can’t return the enthusiasm. I’ve realised though that I’ll always be the ones following them around. They won’t walk to catch up to me, they won’t invite me to conversation. I don’t know if it’s my own insecurities but it really really feels like they don’t want me there or don’t realise I am there. I feel like a pity friend, I’m only there because I’m nicer than the rest of the school population but I’m nowhere near as cool and confident as the rest of them.
I can’t handle it. I’m naturally self-centred. I often switch between feeling like the best person and the whole conversation should revolve around me to feeling like everyone hates me probably because I’m so selfish and ugly and naturally disgusting. My expressions don’t fit on my face, I’m constantly depressed. I don’t even share many interests with them anymore.
I was at a local comic con a few weeks ago. I met up with my ‘con friends’ who I rarely see. I only stayed for a while because of my fucking autism again I’m missing out, but they seemed so sad when I left. One of them made a TikTok with me in it. We took a photo together. And when they were sad I left I wanted to cry because that’s so kind. They wanted me around? Me?
I’m going to a birthday party for one of my main friends on Saturday. He asked me if I was coming so I did because of course I want to be there. But does he even fucking want me there? I said I’d invite them over in the summer, do they even want to come? My other friend says he’ll sign my shirt if I come in tomorrow lunch, but I’m so depressed I’m not even sure I want to go. Now all I want to do is lie in bed and fucking eat gross shit and other stuff.
This has sent me into a super bad mood and idk what to do. Lowkey wanna relapse but it’s not gonna happen.
I’m so lonely. All my bonds are fading away. I’m so so so lonely.
I’m sick of fucking sitting in my bed, but it’s my favourite thing to do.
All this just because my friends took some pictures looking happy. I’m fighting the urge to just leave the group chat. I can’t let these stupid insecurities and instability show itself to others. I never tell anyone irl these things. Not even my therapist will hear about this. I’m ashamed and I fucking hate having and talking about my feelings.
Love y’all enjoy this bs lol x
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stormxpadme · 2 years
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​Whumptober 2022 No. 29 - “Better me than you.”
2025
"We told you not to go alone!"
Logan slammed down Kurt's heavily compromised body on the next best stretcher so rudely that it made Scott wince in the sickbay's control corner where he was busy, activating every scanner, every automatic tool, every Shi’ar machine they had in here to at least try and do the job of their actual doctors and healers. As much as Kurt deserved that rough treatment for his damn suicidal stupidity, that must have hurt. "Look at you!" What was left of Kurt's usual dark blue uniform and his beloved trench coat fell victim to impatient claw cuts next, more blood squirting upwards immediately that had drenched Kurt's fur dark already, far more damage even revealed than a first shocking look at their friend when he'd suddenly shown up in the living room a minute ago. "I told you this would happen!"
  "Could be worse. You should see him." Kurt flashed his sharpened teeth at Logan in a gesture almost akin to a smile though he could hardly lie on his back, hardly breathe without writhing and screaming out his pain, clumsy paws trying in vain to still that awful bleeding from where he'd been stabbed right through his stomach. "Dieser verdammte Hurensohn …" One colorful curse after the other in his mother tongue on his lips, some of which Scott knew only too well from his wife, Kurt arched up when Logan came back from a supply cabinet with a whole stack of sterile white cloths and pressed a first one onto that ugly wound on his front, with the necessary but again not exactly gentle force. "Ouch?"
  "Your fault. Ain't no one asked you to take on the bastard alone. You gave me your word, asshole. What's your faith saying about lying to someone's face?" Logan drew back his upper lip in an equally impressive snarl, not letting go even an inch. Wide-open hazel eyes darted Scott's way impatiently for a moment, then closed in an increasingly helpless gesture of fear of a friend when Scott signaled Logan, he was working as fast as he could, and still without a real good idea what he was doing.
  Fuck, that was the last time they could allow all of their healers to leave the house at once without a proper backup plan. Because the original backup plan that had said, one of the doctors could have come back here from their congress meeting in Washington within split seconds, was just about to die right in front of Logan's and Scott's eyes.
  The fuzzy smile slipped down Kurt's lips when the scanner above his bed finally peeped to life and immediately started to sound alerts through the main examination hall, demanding for the manual intervention of at least two surgeons or an external healing factor to be provided, none of which was fucking available right now. His fur drenched by cold sweat and an occasional tear of agony, he reached for Logan's arm, trying to give his friend a comfort he couldn't feel himself right now, before pawing at the other man's shirt in an uncoordinated, searching gesture. "With all the sins in my ledger today, that won't make a difference to Him, believe me. Got something to drink for me?"
  "You're not getting any of my good stuff as long as that comes right out through that hole in your body. I've got enough to deal with Wade wasting Ale on my tab. Stop moving and shut up, Elf." With tight lips, his own hands anything but calm, Logan started to wrap more bandages around the middle of Kurt's squirming shape, with gritted teeth, occasionally wiping a few drops of rust red from his beard. "You gonna clock out now, then you will regret not bringing me along today because I'm gonna follow you all the way down there and drag you back by your ugly tail."
  "Shut up, my tail's awesome! You wish you had one!" Kurt complained with a weak giggle, another pained moan. Somehow, the little shit actually managed to snatch one of Logan's flasks from his shirt pocket while his friend was working, and took a sip from it, leaving red stains all over the narrow silver flask with the prominent Phoenix symbol engraved on it. But then he started to cough suddenly, almost blacking out from the pain this time.
  "You're such an idiot." Logan took that thing away from Kurt before even more could happen and set down on the edge of the stretcher to keep on holding his friend's body down, a lot more cautious now, his expression raw and lost for a moment. "You keep breathing, we're clear? The others are already in the Blackbird. They'll be here in an hour tops."
  Kurt didn't look very convinced, but at least he indeed lay still now.
  Sometimes it was still lost on Scott how these two people who'd hardly exchanged words when Kurt had been part of this team for the first time back then, had become such good friends in the last few years. Then again, Kurt was nothing like what he'd used to be at Alkali Lake, at the Great Inferno, instead often acting now a lot as Logan had before living at Mutant High. Into what Scott's second-in-command had started to morph back into more and more since Jean's return. Which was a sign more than anything else that things around here were finally recovering for good. For that reason alone, Scott couldn't have complained about that unlikely comradeship if he'd tried, as much as those two sometimes tested his patience. And if Kurt would still be able to do so after this day, Scott thought, he could even be persuaded to light a candle or two tonight for his friend's God somewhere up there himself.
  Every closer look he took at the patient's body, sadly, made it clearer how unlikely that was. "Your leg's bleeding too, Kurt." A pair of trauma shears in his hand, Scott approached the stretcher with as much composure as he could come up with. With how much Logan's hands were shaking at this point, Scott didn't want his claws back anywhere near Kurt's fur right now. Judging by those many bare, scorched spots he could see on his friend's arm and chest alone, Kurt had lost enough of it already today. "I need you out of that, too. Don't worry, by the time you're back on your feet, we'll have a new uniform ready for you."
  "Nice of you, Boss Man, but that's not coming from my leg." After forcing down another few sips of Kree Ale down his throat, Kurt managed to raise his voice at least to a whisper again, one still of pain but also of smoldering anger and a little embarrassment when he nodded down to his middle, where more blades of his father or Azazel's minions seemed to have cut an even more sensitive place than his intestines open. "Leave it," he added, gently but firmly pushing Scott's gloved hand away when Scott tried to reach for the zipper and buttons of his pants with some choked, unintelligible noise of compassion. "The artery's intact there. If I'm not bleeding out through that hole in me before Hank or Jean come here, I'm not going to bite it from that either. Papa just wanted to make sure I'm not spawning anything potentially dangerous for him, I guess."
  "Your Dad got issues, you know that?" Scott pulled up a chair to Kurt's other bedside with an aggressive snort, supplies for an IV in his hands that he was pretty he could put on his friend if nothing else, to get everything in him the med computer demanded in terms of drugs and sustenance immediately. After almost two decades of being on the needle for his damn headaches, there were certain things Scott had practice with even without any medical training by now.
  Kurt tried to laugh again but with how badly his body was shaking from blood loss, so much that Scott had to hold his arm down with his elbow while he was looking for a vein under the fur of his elbow feverishly, it came out as a shrill yelp more than anything. And he was still being a damn smartass. "Your dad's a space pirate."
  "Point taken. Fuck, Kurt …" With every second of sitting so close to the patient more, Scott began to understand how serious these injuries were, the bandages already soaked through, making it necessary for Logan to prepare new ones.
  Kurt's forehead was glowing to his cautious touch, the readings from the life signs monitoring alarmingly hectic and far too shallow at the same time. But somehow, this damn idiot still managed to put his hand around Scott's with a soothing shake of his head. "I survived worse on the sea. I'll be alright."
  Scott decided, though he'd never been big on faith, to want to believe that for once, because he was simply not ready to deal with the opposite, the worst case once more. Even if this thing somehow would have a happy ending though, it should never have gotten a chance to happen in the first place. "With how many scars?"
  "Worth them all. As long as I live, he won't be able to come to the surface again. For afterward, I'll think of something." That sounded entirely confident in spite of all exhaustion and sickness. And honestly triumphing. All these last years of training for Kurt had led to this day.
  And yet Scott didn't feel like any of them had been really prepared for it. That wouldn't happen again. "We will." He closed his hand hard enough around Kurt's shoulder to shake him awake when unconsciousness threatened to pull his friend under, and not only because that would have been a really shitty idea for his system right now. "That was the last time you faced the bastard alone, you hear me? Fuck, Kurt, your liver … Your stomach …" One or two German curses came from Scott's own lips when the med scanner spat out a batch of new data, none of them even remotely calming.
  "Better me than you." There was not a single nuance of doubt in his friend's voice.
  Logan bent over him again with a warning growl after renewing that bandage, before Scott even had to. "That’s not how it works around here, thought you'd finally realized that."
  With the first drugs kicking in, Kurt was at least somewhat free of pain for the moment and could talk clearer again, his yellow pupils dilated but heavy only with the gravity of his words. "Not up here it doesn't, no. Up here, you two keep us all safe. You, Scott, because you unlearned how to fear when you were twelve years old, and Logan wasn't born with it in the first place. Brimstone Dimension? You need to be like them to be able to deal. Christianity messed up a few details in the course of the millennia, but there are reasons, a lot of the stories about their hell are not entirely unlike what it looks like down there."
  Scott tried to picture it for a moment for discussion's sake, tried to picture Azazel from the way Kurt had described him, or that place where reality was supposedly made up of nightmares only ... But all he could see in his mind was his wife's tortured, bare shape on the moldy ground of some canalization tunnel, the cobalt blue eyes of his arch enemy fixed on him in bitter triumph before the bastard shoved a blade into his own heart to escape punishment. He saw the body and the eyes of Jean's demon burning before a city went up in flames.  He saw his team lying, dying around him in a place of rock and dust. He saw the sadistic mirth in eyes not entirely unlike Kurt's aimed his way while their owner lowered a scalpel to his body, phantom pain promptly shooting through Scott's left leg intensive enough to draw hiss from his lips. Monsters were a lot less scary when you'd met some in person. "I've seen hell. From up close. More than once."
  "You were never an active part of it," Kurt contradicted again, unfazed. "That is not something you can get out of you once it has taken root. It would destroy you, bit by bit. And then who would lead, who would protect us?"
  "I don’t like this." It was the same thing Scott had told Kurt in the morning before his friend had sneaked out on them, using only that half a minute that his teammates had needed to get ready.
  "I'm not asking you to." That sounded final, and it was. Azazael was and would remain Kurt's problem, no matter what any of them thought about it.
  Scott got up with clenched teeth, never particularly good with a defeat, and hurried back to the computer corner, this time to the com terminal. "I'll see if I can get hold of another of our partners, in case the others aren’t fast enough after all." Before he could do that though, he stumbled over something on knee height being in the way out of nowhere and almost faceplanted into a monitor. "What the …?"
  "You gotta be kidding me." Logan was immediately on his feet and next to him, his claws instinctively extending when he spotted their unexpected visitor.
  But neither of them got close to it before it teleported out of the way, ending up on Kurt's pillow with a childlike bright giggle.
  "What. The fuck. Is that." Logan looked back and forth between Kurt and the creature that had suspiciously much resemblance to him, with the same blue fur and tail.
  It clearly knew him, too, judging by the amicable, worried way it was eying Kurt's trembling shape and pointing on his wounds. It let out a few high-pitched, concerned sounds that might have been some kind of primitive language but sounded more like those bamf-noises Kurt and that creature both made when they teleported.
  "That? Uh …" Kurt held up Logan's flask again with a perfectly innocent smile on his lips. "Ale?"
  Scott didn't feel a lot like joking being faced with some demonic-looking creature, not after that impressive warning he'd just been given. "You said you wanted none of all this here."
  "That’s not one of them. It's one of me. Isn't that obvious?" Kurt tenderly stroked the little one's back with two fingertips and murmured something to it that the others couldn't hear.
  "I … How …" Logan looked like he could definitely use a drink or two himself right now.
  "As you said," Kurt told Scott, "my father has issues. There are a couple more of them. He's gonna bring them if you agree. I swear they're gonna be helpful. Well, or will be, soon. I'll just need a little while to tame them."
  That much was obvious, seeing as that thing was already busy jumping around the room faster than one could watch his path, opening cabinets and boxes until it jumped back to the bed with a full blister of highly effective painkillers. Two of them, he thrust into Kurt's hand, the rest, he popped into his own mouth with a satisfied hum.
  "What is he doing?" Though he'd actually gotten rid of that problem when he'd finally got his damn mutation under control, Scott felt a real bitch of a headache coming. And here things had just calmed down in the mansion finally.
  "They're from something like hell, what do you think?" With even more drugs in his system, Kurt was becoming exceptionally cheerful now. "Sinning, of course. That's enough, junior. Try to find the Blackbird and get the blue fur guy here. Warn him first. And then go get the others. You've been in his company long enough."
  The little guy mock-saluted his big brother and disappeared indeed, not without snatching Logan's flask from the nightstand before.
  Recovering far quicker from the absurd scene, Logan delightfully slapped Scott's shoulder when Scott buried his face in both hands with a groan. "I love them already."
*******************************************************************************
@whumptober | @whumptober-archive​
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years
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𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐻𝑦𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑 𝑃𝑒𝑡 𝐺𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑡 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)
Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
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Loud and intense slurping sounds were the only thing heard besides your whimpers and moaning. You tried to move away from the face that was currently buried between your legs as you felt your 6th orgasm building up, but a firm hand placed itself on your stomach, holding you down to keep you from moving.
"Come on my little kitten, you know you want to cum one more time. Cum for me."
Hongjoong's skillful tongue laps up all of your juices, not letting a single drop go to waste. Coming up to lay on top of you, he kisses you tenderly, leftover arousal on his lips now being tasted by you. His fingers sweep your hair away, scratching at the back of your [insert color] ears and he chuckles when he feels you purring into his mouth.
"You feeling good kitten? You feel better?"
Although having him eat you out so many times was always a delight, you still felt like you needed more, your core starting to feel empty and needy. Looking up at him, your pupils dilated as your fingers brushed along the tent in his pants. Playing coy, Hongjoong tilted his head at you.
"What is it kitten? Do you want something from me?"
Hongjoong chuckled when he felt your claws began tearing at his jeans. Getting the hint, he began to take himself out, slapping his head on your clit.
"Don't worry kitten, master will fill you up."
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
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Seonghwa let out a loud hiss when he felt your walls clench unbearably tight around him. His hand came down to caress the red prints he had left all over your ass, stroking them with utmost tenderness, before coming over to play with your little cotton tail, which briefly twitched when it felt his touch.
"You like that my little bunny?"
Your drawned out moan was an affirmative answer. Wanting to further tease you, he harshly tugged at your tail, sending you yelping into the pillow as you began cumming all over him.
"Oh fuck bunny! I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum inside you!" He cried out, his thrusts becoming more sporadic.
Your long ears began fretting uncontrollably when they heard his words.
"N-no master! You could get me pregnant! Humans can still-" Your sentence couldn't be finished as your body began getting heated once more.
Seonghwa's thrusts never stopped, in fact they got more desperate. Leaning over, he began kissing along your back.
"Really? I can breed you my little bunny?"
You nodded your head as you felt yourself cumming once again, nearly squirting when you heard his next words.
"Then let's knock you up. I wanna see you full of my babies."
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
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Your fingers couldn't keep from fisting at your skirt, your eyes looking everywhere but at the tv in front of you, where a movie your loving master had put on for your weekly movie nights you often had. You hated this, you thought you could distract yourself and ignore the immense throbbing that started that morning, but it was becoming too much.
"Baby? Are you ok? What's wrong pup?"
Yunho's voice snapped you out of your thoughts and until then you realized you had been unconsciously rutting yourself on his thigh, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment. But Yunho didn't seem to mind as he began kissing your shoulders, hands sliding up under your shirt to knead at your exposed breasts.
"It hurts doesn't it puppy?"
You nodded, melting into his touch and tilting your head so he could suck hickeys into your neck.
"Is this ok? Does this feel better?" He asked you as he pinched your nipples.
You whined loudly, loving your master's caresses, but wanting them places elsewhere.
"Yes but-but.." You were too scared to ask him.
"But what pup? Still hurts? Where do you need it?"
Humming softly, Yunho dropped one hands inside your skirt, pushing your panties to the side to slide a finger, then 2 inside of you. You cried out at the stretch his long fingers gave you, spreading your legs out more so he could add a 3rd one.
"Master will take the pain away for you pup."
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
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Coming home to find you, his fox hybrid, in pain and furiously grinding yourself onto a pillow somehow didn't phase Yeosang. He knew that you were bound to start your first heat anytime soon. You on the other hand, didn't fully understand what was happening to your body.
"M-master, please help." You begged him, your eyes becoming brimmed with tears.
Gently, Yeosang calmed you down first before ushering you to lie your naked body down onto the bed. Petting your ears softly, he went to his closet to get out the box he had stashed away until this moment arrived. Coming back over to you, he took out a weird device you had never seen before, but it was pink, long and cylindrical in shape. Turning on a button, it began making a buzzing noise and Yeosang then lowered it down until it touched your throbbing clit.
"Oh! Oh my god." You squirmed as vibrations pulsated all over your body.
Yeosang's fingers went back to your ears, stroking them as he moved the device around your sensitive little nub.
"This is called a vibrator my dear. It will help you out at times like these."
Soon he moved the vibrator from your clit and slipped it inside you, sliding it in and out of you until you were a shaking mess and came for the first time in your life. Taking it out of you, Yeosang studied the glistening juices left from your orgasm.
"Of course, one day even this won't be enough for you..."
You blushed and let out a squeak when you saw him lick some of the cum off as he winked at you.
"But that's what my cock will be here for."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
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San's fingers yanked your hair from the pillow, not willing to let you muffle the screams pouring out of your mouth. You cried out even harder as he began landing hard slaps on your ass.
"Stop trying to hide now, acting like you weren't rutting yourself on Mingi's lap just 5 minutes ago like the little bitch in heat you are."
Tears came down your cheeks as your legs threatened to give out underneath you. You didn't want to make San mad, but your heat was unbearable and yes, you accidentally rutted yourself on his friend while he was cuddling you on his lap.
"I'm sorry master! My- can't control my heat!" You exclaimed.
San let out a pensive hum, his hips slowing down until they stopped and he pulled out of you, which made you whine harder at being denied to cum.
"You're right....you really can't control yourself when you're in heat. All you can think about is getting fucked over and over."
With a sadistic grin, he threw you over his shoulder and stormed out of the room and into the living room, where his other members had reddened faces at having heard what was going on, but now they looked in shock as San set you on the floor, displaying your naked form to them.
"Guys my little puppy hybrid is in heat and needs a little fucking. Correction....a lot of fucking." He emphasized the last part.
Using his foot, he made you open your legs so they could all look at your soaked hole which ached to be filled once more, stuffed to the brim with cum.
"Come on guys, I've seen you stare at my little bitch too many times. If you want to fuck her, now's your chance. "
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
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You couldn't ask for a better caregiver than Mingi. You absolutely loved him and he absolutely adored you. He took great care of you and was always displaying his affection towards you. And he always made sure to satisfy your needs, especially when you went into heat. You always looked forward to those times because he was extra attentive and even romantic towards you.
"There you go my pretty little kitten. That's it. Just take it nice and slow."
Your head was thrown back, eyes closed as you lost yourself in the immense pleasure of grinding against his huge cock. Mingi's hands were holding onto your waist, guiding your movements so he could hit your sweet spot each time you sunk down on his length. The splashing sounds of the water in the bathtub you two were in were the only other sounds besides the moans coming out both of your mouths.
Mingi attached his mouth to your neck, sucking down on your wet skin, brushing away some of your dampened hair.
"You're so beautiful my pretty one, and you're doing so well taking my cock." You lived for his praises and sweet words.
"Thank you master. Thank you for making me feel-"
You were silenced when he suddenly pressed his lips against yours, his tongue running itself across your upper lip as he began bucking his hips harder into you.
"Shh. Hush kitten."
You melted and immediately came all over him, feeling overwhelmed with not only euphoria but with love as well.
"Don't thank me kitten. Master just wants to make sure you're taken care of properly."
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
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Wooyoung hummed a soft tune to himself as he carefully flipped the pancakes he was currently cooking on the stove. It was early morning and he was wearing nothing but his sweatpants, hair a mess and in tangles from his previous night with you. He squealed when he suddenly felt a body press itself to his.
"Don't give me a heart attack so early in the morning." He scolded you, swatting the utensil on one of your fluffy ears.
Letting out a huff, you turned him to face you and he was kinda surprised to see you there naked. Just as he was about to ask, you pulled him in for a desperate kiss, fingers raking against his bare chest as you pulled him over to the table.
"God dammit Y/N, are you seriously this horny this early?" Although he complained, he still made no effort to push you off him nor stop your hand from palming his growing hard on.
"I'm still in heat! Please, I need you." You whimpered at him, taking one of his hands to cup and feel your dripping mound.
Growling, Wooyoung flipped you so you were laying on the table, his hands spreading your legs open. Pulling his sweatpants down, he surprised you when you saw he had gone commando that morning.
"What? I knew there would be no use in wearing underwear."
You gasped when he entered you promptly, immediately pounding his into you. He was going at it so hard you reached your hands up to grip onto his arms to steady yourself as you felt the first orgasm of the day washing over you.
"Fuck! You really are just a horny little bunny. Just wants to pounce on my cock and get fucked dumb."
You shook under him when he snaked a hand to wrap around your throat, making you go dizzy as you began chanting his name over and over again.
"I'll make sure to fuck you dumb my horny bunny."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
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Catching your ears poke out from the doorway, Jongho set his weights down and turned to look at you, who immediately hid.
"What's wrong my little vixen?" He celled out for you.
You nervously stuck your face out.
"No....nothing master. I'm sorry for disturbing you."
Just as you were about to run away, Jongho called out for you again.
"Wait! Babygirl come over here." He ordered you.
Seeing you walk in with your fingers tugging at your oversized sleeves, cheeks pink and ears down, Jongho could already guess what was going on. Cupping your chin, he tilted it up.
"Well then? What is it my little vixen?"
You wanted to cry from how embarrassed you were and for disturbing Jongho with your dirty needs when he was obviously busy.
"I'm sorry m-master ... I'll go-"
"Nonsense my darling. It's ok. I know you're still in heat so don't cry ok?"
Pecking your lips, he picked you up and walked over to the couch, sitting down and immediately stripping you out of your shorts and panties, which were drenched at this point. Jongho then gently placed you on one of his thighs just as he always did when you went into heat, his hands giving your ass cheeks a gentle squeeze.
"Ok. Go on my little vixen. Put on your little show for me, fuck yourself on my thigh as much as you want."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years
Note
Can you write smut for jaehyun where the reader is also an idol and jaehyun has had the biggest crush on her for a long time? He finally asks for her number backstage at inkigayo and they finally meet up at his dorm after texting for the longest time and things go from there 🤠
Pairing: idol!jaehyun x idol!f.reader
Genre: a bit of fluff?, smut (18+ only)
Warnings: nipple sucking, fingering, protected sex
Word count: 2k
A/N: haha i got carried away with this one :) hope you like it, anon, and thanks for sending it in!
“Don’t look, but it’s Y/N,” Jungwoo whispered, trying to appear casual. Despite Jungwoo’s fair warning, Jaehyun couldn’t help but turn his head in your direction. Whereupon he blushed to the tips of his ears when you caught him looking and smiled.
“Smooth, Jaehyun, real smooth,” Johnny laughed, while Jungwoo just sighed.
“I told you not to look!” Jungwoo elbowed Jaehyun, who just shook his head, scratching the back of his neck in frustration.
“I can’t help it, she’s like a magnet,” Jaehyun admitted, “I can’t help but look at her.”
“And think about her, and talk about her, and bore us all to death about how much you like her,” Haechan complained, while Mark laughed and scolded him playfully.
“You should just ask for her number,” Yuta commented matter-of-factly, and everyone just nodded in agreement.
“No harm in asking,” Taeil shrugged, grinning at Jaehyun.
“Of course there is!” Doyoung suddenly piped up, “she could say no, and then Jaehyun can never show his face at Inkigayo ever again!”
Everyone groaned, Haechan even rolling his eyes at Doyoung.
“Don’t listen to him,” Taeyong finally came over and wrapped an arm around Jaehyun’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll say yes. Just ask, yeah?”
Jaehyun nodded, rubbing his hands together nervously. He left the room, making his way over to your waiting room while the members cheered him on loudly.
---
“So what are you going to wear?” Dahyun asked you, trying to find a space on your bed to sit amongst the pile of clothes you were throwing onto it.
“Ugh! I don’t know!” you lamented, discarding every article of clothing you owned. Nothing seemed to work for you, and you were about to give up and tell Jaehyun you couldn’t meet up with him because your wardrobe was a disgusting mess, when you got a text.
JJ: hey we’re still on for today?
You groaned, while Dahyun started to meticulously go through your pile.
Me: yes of course!
JJ: great! change of plans though
JJ: can we meet at my dorm instead of the park?
JJ: my manager doesn’t want dispatch getting any pictures :(
Me: that’s fine
JJ: awesome! can’t wait to see you :)
Me: me too
Me: see you then
You tore at your hair in frustration, but Dahyun just looked at you triumphantly. “Ta-da!” she said dramatically, holding up an outfit that she had picked out from your pile. You had to admit, it looked good. “What do you think?”
“It’ll have to do,” you said quickly, grabbing the clothes from her hands and hastily getting dressed, “I’m already running late!”
---
“Where is everyone?” you asked, when you finally entered the tenth floor dorm. Jaehyun shrugged sheepishly as he led you through the hallway.
“They, uh, went to practice.”
“Don’t you have to practice too, then?” you questioned, noticing that the dorm was cleaner than you imagined it would be, and smelled nicer than you imagined too.
“Uh, unofficial practice,” he swallowed nervously, opening the door to his room and motioning for you to go in, “here’s my room.”
You walked in, noticing his bed and Jungwoo’s made up neatly. The furnishings were sparse, and any belongings and knick knacks were arranged neatly in their spaces. You wondered if he was really this tidy or if he did it just for you. You had to smile if it was the latter.
“This is nice,” you said, sitting on his bed and getting a whiff of fresh laundry detergent.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t lie, it’s awful.”
You couldn’t help but laugh with him, knowing these dorms, even in the biggest companies, certainly weren’t five star lodgings.
“You’re right,” you agreed, and found yourself smiling from ear to ear at the endearing look on his face, the way his eyes seemed to dance in the light, and the way his dimples dented his beautifully bread-like cheeks. “Come sit with me,” you said, because you noticed he was still standing by the door.
Almost hesitantly he came over, sitting on the bed beside you but keeping a respectable distance. You could tell he was nervous, and that made him even more endearing to you. To further break the ice, you commented on the bracelet he was wearing.
“I like that bracelet,” you said, pointing to his wrist.
He fingered it, smiling. “This? It was something all of us in the ninety-seven line got together.”
“That’s sweet,” you commented, bending your head towards it to get a closer look. He brought it up closer to your face so you could see it better.
“See how it shines in the light if I turn it like this…” he moved his wrist and you had to admit it was beautiful, and you couldn’t help but touch it lightly with your fingers. At the contact he inhaled sharply, and you looked up at him, not even realizing that your faces were so close together.
“Y/N, I want to kiss you,” he said, his eyes roving to your lips. Unconsciously you bit your bottom lip, and that certainly made his heart beat faster, but still he waited for your consent.
“Yes, please,” you said softly, and he leaned in, capturing your bottom lip. His lips were soft and warm, and he kissed you gently, tentatively. You sighed into his mouth but still he went slowly, as if he were relishing every moment. You felt his hands move to your waist, then around to your back, and the way he was holding you and kissing you made the heat rise in your body. Your hands went up to his chest, feeling the hard lines of his pecs, and that made you feel even hotter, and you moaned softly into his mouth.
He kissed you harder, your reaction to his actions making him bolder, his hands now pulling you closer to him. You could feel the pressure he was applying to your back to press your body closer to his, and it made your core clench around nothing.
“Y/N,” he groaned softly, when you pulled away from his mouth for air, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” His hands roamed all over your body as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing softly until you inhaled sharply, gripping his arms when he found your sweet spot. His kisses became more urgent then, sucking the skin ever so lightly, careful not to leave marks.
“Jaehyun,” you whispered, already losing yourself to his touch, “I want you too, I want you right now.”
He groaned, deep in his chest, then laid you back down onto the bed. The feeling of his body on top of you, the weight of him, the heat of him, the hardness between his legs, made you so wet you knew your panties were probably soaked with your arousal.
“Are you sure?” he still asked, even as he started to peel your clothes off of you, “I just want to be inside you so bad.”
You stifled a whimper, he was making you so hot with his words, with the deep rumble of his voice, with the way he was stripping you leaving you naked underneath him.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, eyes drinking in your nude form. Before you could even be embarrassed with the way he was looking at you, he leaned in and sucked a nipple into his mouth, making your back arch off the bed.
“Jaehyun!” you cried out, fingers threading through his hair as he pleasured you, sucking on each nipple in turn, pressing his still clothed bulge against your core.
“Do you want me, Y/N,” he asked, his voice raspy against your chest, fingers slipping between your legs. “Do you want me here…”
A high-pitched cry escaped your lips when he slid his fingers into your sopping pussy, two fingers stretching you, scissoring inside you as he watched your face with hooded eyes.
“Oh Jae, oh fuck,” you moaned, your stomach tightening as he fucked you with his fingers, hitting you so deep you were seeing stars. You came without warning, just your body convulsing when he stimulated your clit with his other hand.
“That was sexy,” he said with a low whistle, licking his fingers, and finally pulling his shirt off over his head. You’d seen the pictures, seen the video of his bare chest, but nothing compared to the real thing. You reached up to touch it, running your palm over the hard planes of his chest, down to his abs.
“You’re sexy,” you said, with a low whistle of your own, which elicited that cute blush that spread to the tips of his ears. You pulled him down, kissing him deeply, your tongue in his mouth, your hands going to his pants and tugging the rest of his clothes off of him. When you felt his bare cock against the inside of your thigh you groaned into his mouth. He pulled away reluctantly, fumbling around on his headboard for a condom. You watched, mouth watering, as he slid it down his impressive length.
“You want it, baby?” he asked cockily, catching you staring.
You nodded, licking your lips and giving him your sultriest stare. He answered with a smirk, spreading your legs even further apart and teasing the tip at your entrance.
You threw your head back, he hadn’t even entered you and you were already losing it. He started to push in slowly, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that were tumbling out of your mouth.
“Oh fuck, oh shit, so good,” he moaned, “so fucking tight.” He was almost rambling, losing himself in the feeling of your pussy spreading to accommodate him. Suddenly he stopped, dropping his head to your chest.
“Jae?” you asked, when he didn’t move, “are you okay?”
“Sorry, I gotta stop for a moment,” you could hear him breathing heavily, “I’m gonna come too fast, you feel too good.” You clenched involuntarily at his words and he hissed. “Y/N,” he groaned, “that’s not helping.”
“Sorry,” you smiled, rubbing his back soothingly until he felt ready to continue. He made one slow thrust, and when you moaned at the feeling of it he kept going, starting a slow pace of fucking into you.
“Jaehyun,” you moaned, the way his cock was filling you up, the way it was dragging in and out of you, was building up your orgasm slowly but surely. “You feel so good inside me.”
He groaned at your words, picking up his pace, his muscles flexing as he started to pound you into the mattress. You were glad no one was home, because the headboard started to bang loudly against the wall, and you couldn’t help the loud moans coming out of your mouth.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, “your pussy feels so good, so tight.” Sweat started to form on his face as he railed you, his features tense, hair falling into his eyes but he couldn’t spare a moment to do anything about it, his focus only on fucking you.
“Jaehyun!” you cried out, your orgasm washing over you. You had your hands wrapped around his biceps and you squeezed as you came, making him flex, which made your pussy clench around his cock even harder.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re gonna make me come,” he pulled you flush against him as his orgasm hit, pressing your body against his as his hips stutttered, a loud groan escaping his throat as he came. He was breathing so hard, you could feel his chest heave, the thrum of his heart beating against yours.
You could only smile to yourself as he continued to hold you tightly to him, not caring how sweaty you both were, just wanting to hold you. When his breathing slowed down, he started to kiss along your collarbone and neck, just soft kisses on your skin, his lips warm.
“You feel so good, Y/N,” he murmured between kisses, “I hope that was good for you, because it was damn good for me.”
You smiled wider, holding him tightly to you. “Yes, Jae, that was really good for me.”
---
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ptergwen · 3 years
Text
love is more than a word
Tumblr media
w/c: a very ouch 3.6k
warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship
summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying
a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho
-
you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.
at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.
it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.
there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.
peter is boring.
you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?
you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.
the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.
“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.
you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.
you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.
no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.
he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.
tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.
but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.
“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.
“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”
the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.
“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.
“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.
he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.
“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”
your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.
“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”
your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.
the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.
he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.
“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.
“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.
“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”
peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.
“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”
no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.
peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.
it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.
peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.
the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.
you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.
“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.
“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.
you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.
that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.
for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.
he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.
even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.
seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.
the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.
“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.
“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.
peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.
there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.
instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.
“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.
you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.
your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.
peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.
he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.
your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.
you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.
the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.
-
you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.
your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.
for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.
betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.
peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.
he finds out today.
you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.
mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.
you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.
he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.
that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.
“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.
“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.
you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.
you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”
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pugh-bug · 3 years
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Scott Lang x Reader Chapter 13
This chapter follows directly on from chapter 12 I REALLY need to make a master list I know. Ended up way longer than I expected but I hope you enjoy! :)) and let me know if you want to be added to my tag list <3
Warnings: smut, age gap, swearing as fucking always
‘Oh fuck,’ his eyelids fluttered as he rode into you. You wanted to take his shirt off and take all of him in but the pleasure was keeping you lay down. Scott felt your walls tightening as you struggled to decide where to look and what to do with your hands. He seemed to sense the indecision because in a surprisingly wholesome twist, Scott’s hand found its way in your hair before caressing your cheek. All you could hear was both of your heavier breaths matching each other’s rhythms. You’d known before (and of course said before) that you loved Scott but having him look at you with such compassion in bed made you know for certain.
You both let the pause continue but Scott’s impatience was obvious, despite him trying to hide it for your sake. ‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ you finally said before smirking up at him. The atmosphere took an instant shift as the two of you fought with the fabric and felt it rip off of his chest. And oh fucking hell was the sight of Scott shirtless a treat. You knew he worked out, Tony had a gym everyone used for training, but you never knew he had actual ab muscles. Scott chuckled as he watched you stare at them in awe. Fuck fuck fuck. You couldn’t believe what was happening.
Scott’s finger below your chin guided your gaze back to his green eyes. There was no hesitation after that. As the two of you kissed with lust filled ferocity, you postured up and pushed down on Scott’s shoulders so you could sit in his lap. You tried to continue devouring each other’s taste but the sound that slipped from you as you sank down onto him was pornographic and distracting as hell. You rode him slowly because after such a long wait why not tease him? He could have made this happen ages ago. Selfish of him really.
‘Jesu-fuck Y/N,’ the poor man struggled to keep his head facing you and not back looking at the ceiling. ‘You feel amazing,’ you couldn’t help but beam at his praise. After spending so many nights touching yourself to the fantasy of riding him, having it happen in real life was overwhelming. His large hands gripped your waist while you continued your torment of slowly filling yourself up and down. You didn’t want this to just become another memory in the past that would never happen again. Scott’s firm hands digging into your waist brought you away from the nagging thoughts. ‘Fuck you’re so tight.’ He felt so good it was driving you insane. As he hit your g-spot dangerously slowly you let out a whine.
‘You..can go,’ he already sounded wrecked which made you smug as anything. ‘Faster than that Y/N.’ His eyes were closed but you were determined to keep yours open to look at his face. The obvious pleasure he was feeling. You decided to oblige him and speed up, never once did his cock grazing your g spot not send wonderful shivers down your spine. Your face felt hot- your whole body was on fire.
It was your turn to throw your head back. No one had made you feel as high as Scott, not even close. The man was fucking addictive.
All you could focus on was the full feeling you had in your stomach, Scott’s wrecked voice and his firm grip on your waist. Part of you wished they were around your neck. Maybe next time. ‘Scotttttt….’ you moaned. He fucking adored hearing you moan and hearing you say his name was going to send him over the edge. You wanted to see it. With desperate, yet shaky hands, you thought about crawling his back but it felt forced for a moment. Once again he sensed your minor uncertainty and handled it for you. ‘Come here,’ his voice was husky but breathless as he pulled you into a kiss while you rode him faster and faster.
Your walls were tightening and your toes began to curl on the bedsheets but you felt a sudden impulse to move so you pulled him on top of you. It broke the kiss but it meant on Scott’s next thrust you felt him even deeper and a prolonged moan left your open mouth as you came. Your eyes closed and your body jerked and writhed underneath Scott’s panting chest. He didn’t move for a moment, completely lost in witnessing you enjoy every second of your orgasm. It hit you in waves that felt endless for a moment before your entire body stopped its uncontrollable writhing that pushed Scott over the edge.
He came inside you and, for a moment, almost lost balance. You were so in shock from the huge mass of pleasure you’d just felt that your chest was rising and falling heavier than it did after a run. That orgasm had hit you like a brick. You struggled to sit up as you felt Scott, to your surprise, move down your body. How did he have any energy left? You were exhausted.
One more feeble attempt to sit up was not needed because Mr Scott Lang had decided to surprise you by inserting his fingers in your pussy and smugly licking your clit. Without the much needed warning. ‘Ah- too sensitive!’ You squealed, backing away from Scott on the bed to escape. He was definitely amused. ‘You okay over there?’ Wow. After the sounds he had made?! He was going to make you out to be overwhelmed? However his confident side made you wet and you were not one to complain after sex so:
‘I’m great.’ You smiled coyly and closed your legs as if you weren’t leaking his cum all over the bed and just there to talk. Scott smiled and made his way back over to you like a panther on some sort of sick hunt. ‘You’re trouble.’ He responded, almost judging but still humorous. When you didn’t respond you saw his face change to show some insecurity about his actions. ‘Are you already regrett-‘
‘I regret not getting you to slam me against a wall to be honest.’ You hugged your knees, your breath had returned to normal and you were grinning at Scott like a cat that had gotten its own way. Finally.
‘Well shit,’ he paused with his hand on his forehead and a raise of his eyebrows. ‘That can be arranged.’
Yes but not now, you thought, too tired for that. Must sleep. Must lie down.
The bed, despite being wet, was so inviting and Scott following your lead and wrapping his arms around your waist even more so. You felt safe next to him. At peace. You heard Scott’s breathing normalise but neither one of you spoke. There was no awkwardness like you’d feared and apart from the horrible intrusive thought ‘Am I better or worse than his ex wife’ you felt calm and… happy. Really happy. Tentatively, Scott’s hands found themselves stroking your hair. He ran his fingers through it gently and you smiled and closed your eyes. The smell of sex had filled the room but your arousal was somehow being overpowered by the calm. And there was one question you were curious about.
‘How long for you?’
You expected a brief silence or atleast a ‘Huh’ due to your vagueness but Scott just knew exactly what you’d meant.
‘Atleast a year,’ you quietly turned to face him so he knew he had your full attention. ‘But I really knew when you came to comfort me, on my anniversary.’ You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows and scoff. ‘You mean when I came to annoy you on the roof?’ Scott’s smirk grew into a full grin at you. ‘And why is that so surprising?’ To be quite honest you’d felt like an intrude that night and not much help to him at all but it was nice to know he felt differently. He looked so pretty lay opposite you, your hands found their way into his hair ruffling it even more. ‘I don’t know.’ You lied.
‘What about you?’ It was his turn to play with your hair again. Oh that was easy. Too easy. ‘First day I met you,’ it was growing harder to look Scott in the eye as you admitted it. ‘I kept thinking about y- I only ever asked you dumb questions as an excuse to talk to you until- well until we were friends.’ He was listening intently which you were not used to men doing. “Were?” Scott questioned knowingly, he waited for your response and you could practically see his ego growing by the second. Of course ‘were’.
‘Well would you call this friendship?’ You laughed, gesturing to the two of you in bed slightly sweaty from moments earlier. After a second too long for your liking passed your eyes widened at the sight of Scott’s hoodie on the floor. You’d forgot he’d brought it with him and it looked comfy as anything. ‘Hold on I’ve always wanted to do this,’ you grinned excitedly like a little kid and Scott watched you in amusement. Struggling for a moment, you pulled the black hoodie over your head (because your hair wasn’t messy enough already) and gestured proudly to your new (stolen) outfit. It smelt like him which just made you giddier.
‘You’ve never slept with a guy and stolen his hoodie before?’ Scott raised his eyebrows clearly not believing you or understanding the appeal. ‘They’ve been out the fucking door too fast.’ You shrugged trying not to let that harsh fact sink in. Oh well. You were feeling good now at least. Scott frowned but once again you couldn’t help but not wait for his reply- just in case it hurt you in some way and brought your high down. ‘Kinda hungry not gonna lie.’ You hadn’t even eaten yet but that wasn’t what you were really thinking about as you stood over Scott as he sat on the bed.
Slyly, he ran his calloused hands under his hoodie and up your torso making you gasp. He couldn’t help but grin at the strong reactions you had to his mild touches. Deciding to really tease you, Scott’s hand traveled down to your pussy so he could finger you but being overstimulated you whined and grabbed his wrist. The man just thought you sounded pretty. ‘Fuck- you’re dripping sweetheart.’ You grinned once again at his words and clenched your thighs together. ‘Who’s fault is that?’
Tags: @supraveng @thottio @wandamaximoffshoe @aliceblxck @merleisapartygod @brianmayscurls
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here4theheartbreak · 3 years
Text
Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)
AO3 Link Here!
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Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k
Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin
Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.
A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”
A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.
“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly. 
“Surprise?” He said softly. 
“What are you doing here?”
Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.
“Did I wake you?”
Yoongi hesitated. “No.”
Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”
“We’ve been texting.” 
Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.
“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”
Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes. 
The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it. 
“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.
“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in. 
“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.
“I’m fine.”
Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”
Yoongi blinked at him. 
“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”
“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”
“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light. 
Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped. 
“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.
“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”
“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.
“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”
“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”
“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi. 
“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”
Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets. 
“I’m a monster.”
“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.
“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”
Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.
Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze. 
Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied. 
“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.
“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”
“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward. 
“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”
Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”
“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.
“I am.”
“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”
Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”
Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”
“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.
“Do you drink blood?”
“Of course I do.”
“Human?”
“When I can.”
“From live people?”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”
Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”
Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.
“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”
Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”
Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.
“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”
“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”
“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”
Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”
“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.” 
“Jimin, I’m gonna…” 
Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”
“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”
“Would it turn me into a vampire?”
“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”
Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”
“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.
Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”
“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”
“Which is why you’re so pale too.”
Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”
“R… Resting place?”
“My coffin.”
Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”
“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”
“That you sleep in?”
“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.” 
Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed. 
“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.
“No… Is there anything else different?”
“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”
“Yeah, a few.”
“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”
“Harder.”
Yoongi nodded. 
Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”
“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”
Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”
“Yes.”
“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.
“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”
“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”
Jimin nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”
Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”
“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”
“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”
Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet. 
“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.
“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?” 
“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”
“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”
Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”
Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”
“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”
“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”
“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”
Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”
Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”
“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”
“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.” 
Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.
Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”
Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”
“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified. 
Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”
“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”
“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”
“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”
Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”
Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed. 
“We can do it today?”
“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”
“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”
“Of course.”
“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”
Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”
“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”
“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”
Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”
Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently. 
“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”
“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”
“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered. 
Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush. 
“Oh wow…”
Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way. 
Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.
Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”
“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”
“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom. 
“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently. 
Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric. 
Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning. 
Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself. 
When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted. 
Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person. 
A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.
He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length. 
“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.
Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene. 
“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”
He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.
“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”
He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach. 
“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.
“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.
“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.” 
He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it. 
“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts. 
Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep. 
“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”
“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”
“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”
Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.
Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device. 
Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.
As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.
“It’s sore,” he whined.
“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.
On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.
Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.
“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…” 
Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.
“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”
Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.
On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back. 
“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”
The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.
Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s  already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.
“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.
“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.
“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts. 
Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder. 
“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.
“Yes—“
“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”
“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned. 
“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him. 
The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.
“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.
“No regrets? Still okay with it?”
“Fully… You?”
“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”
Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”
“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”
“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”
“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”
“I know it can be frightening.”
“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged. 
“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”
Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.
“Hm?”
“I feel gross.”
“Because of what we did?”
“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”
Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”
“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”
They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”
“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”
“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human. 
“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”
“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”
“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered. 
Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.
“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”
Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”
Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms. 
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Note
hello! if this isn’t too weird, i’d like to request nagito and his fem s/o being heard having...seggs...... (maybe? possibly? perhaps? you can include the seggs scene?? if it’s not too much..) and the next morning their classmates are literally like 🧍‍♂️🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s so awkward 😭😭 I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIYOKO AND MAHIRU LIKE 😀🤬 and everyone else like 😅😐please don’t feel obligated to do it but if you do then thank you so much!!! have a great day/night
Nagito and S/O being overheard
Anon, you're a genius. Absolutely, this is my favorite request I've gotten so far I had to do this first (even... if I'm... really late) It kind of spiraled into a little fic with smut and fluff but eh, the more the merrier right?
-Mod Usami
Word Count: 1.9k
Content Warnings: Island Mode AU! Some smut at the beginning, the rest is pretty fluffy. If you don't wanna read it, skip to where you see *****
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“Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!” Nagito’s hips hit yours with a fervor that was unfamiliar but completely welcome. His long, bony fingers held your waist tightly to hold himself steady as he fucked you while you lay on your back. Above you, he had a look of complete focus as he worked to keep up his pace. Usually he was quite gentle with you, making you take the reins if you wanted something rougher, but tonight he touched you with a drive you couldn’t place.
It had been much the same earlier, when he brought you off the first time eating you out; however, you had grown accustomed to Nagito’s eagerness when his face was between your legs. You’d been much too distracted by that very tongue laving your clit to notice any difference. When his hips slotted between yours though, the difference was so clear.
One of Nagito’s hands moved from its place on your torso to the back of your thigh, pushing it back towards you gently. His eyes remained locked on yours, and though his pace didn’t relent, his eyes were soft and questioning. When you could moaned in response, he couldn’t help but grin to himself a bit. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper,
“My hope...” He choked out, obviously attempting to remain steady even while he was so pleased. “I- you- you sound beautiful already and- and I know this is a selfish request-”
“Wh- What do you want, Nah- ah! Nagito!” You’d meant to continue on, but it was rather difficult. Your fingers dug into the sheets. Nagito moaned aloud at his name, his brows furrowing.
“Yes! My- my name! Just like that!”
“Of course, my pretty boy.” You managed to give him a sloppy half-smile. You let your head fall back once more as he continued. “Nagito! Oh, ah, Nagito! Fuck, baby you’re- you’re so good!” Your hand began to reach down to your clit, but his voice interrupted you.
“P- please, allow me-” He adjusted himself so he was pressed further down into you, one arm supporting himself on the bed and the other beginning to rub circles around your clit, one of your legs over his shoulder. All at once you were enveloped in how good he was making you feel, and knew you weren’t going to last long.
“Oh, Nagito, Nagito, Nagito!” Your voice was almost a whisper, chanting his name like a prayer. The leg not already against him came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “I’m- I’m close-”
“Yes!” He moaned. “Please, please cum for me- I want to see you, I wanna see you-”
“Nagito!” A particularly electric motion from his hands caused your own to fly into his hair. “Nagito, Nagito- ah!” Your legs shook as you came, left trembling in his hands, and he didn’t last much longer. As he came, he leaned down as much as he could while still pumping into you to kiss and bite down on your neck. He peppered kisses all over you as you both lie in the aftershocks, panting in between nips and kisses. At last, he sucked hard on a spot by your pulse point, making you shiver while he marked you. “Nagito...” You whined. “You’re gonna leave marks...”
“Forgive me, my love, I selfishly crave nothing more than to see you completely marked up by my hand.” He murmured, his voice breathy and sleepy. You giggled, a bit out of it yourself.
“You talk funny.” You nudged him to move and he finally stood back up and wiped the sweat off of his brow. After cleaning up a bit and hitting the light, the two of you crawled back into bed to finally get some rest. You held his head close to your chest and played with his hair, and you were quickly asleep. Nagito needed to try a bit harder to fall asleep. He was facing the window he’d noticed he’d left open earlier, and tried not to laugh too much and make you stir.
*****
“Good morning everyone! It’s another beautiful day on the island! Please eat breakfast and do your very best today! Love, love!” Usami's voice crackled through the tv in your room. You internally groaned, upset that you could never find a way to turn that damn monitor down, until the events of last night came back to you. You smiled to yourself as you pulled Nagito closer, right while he was in the middle of a yawn.
“Morning breath.” You grumbled, moving to kiss him on the cheek.
“Nobody made you kiss me in the middle of my yawn. Least of all me.” He protested, but he sounded pleased. “Good morning.” You simply grumbled in response, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “We’re expected at breakfast eventually.”
“So what?” You grinned deviously and peeked open your eyes just enough to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. He made a little squeaking noise and tilted his head to give you more access.
“Ah- as much as I- oh- enjoy your intimacy...” He swallowed hard, as if he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. You didn’t relent. “We really shouldn’t do this every time we wake up together- we end up la- hah- hmm.” His voice died down into a hum as you began to suck on his neck. “Didn’t you complain about marks just last night?” His voice was strained. His hands found your sides and held on tight, despite his hesitant words.
“Yeah, but they’re probably already there, so it doesn’t matter now, does it?” You said in between your kisses. You pulled away just for a second to see that you were in fact leaving red marks something deep within you hoped would bloom into something darker. My precious boy… maybe they’ll all stop being so rude to you if they understand you’re mine.
“Well, there wouldn’t have been anything to connect it to me.” He said seriously. A laugh bubbled up out of you. “What?”
“Nothing.” You lied. Nothing would connect it to you except all the time we spend together, the way you cling to me when other people are around, those puppy-dog eyes you give me in front of everybody whenever we’re sent to collect in different areas… “But your logic is flawed.” You argued, moving to straddle his hips. He looked awestruck under you, something that made you falter for a moment. “Everyone else would know it wasn’t them, and that would likely narrow it down because...”
“Because?”
“You’re not the best liar when asked something directly, Ko-chan.” You giggled, tapping him on the nose. His eyes crossed trying to follow it.
“You’re probably right.” He beamed. You rolled your eyes. He seemed like he was in too good of a mood now to disagree with anyone. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and your feet finally found their way onto the floor. You felt much more energized now. You and Nagito began to get ready for the day. Nagito had begun to keep clothes in your cabin at your insistence and desire to have as much time with him in bed in the mornings. Still, between your conversations and extra kisses you both snuck, you found yourself late to breakfast.
“You don’t want to walk in separately?” He asked. “It might be rather… suspicious if we walked in at the same time. Especially with… these.” He gestured at your necks, which were marked up in matching fashion, though yours were a bit darker due to time. Despite his words, you’d seen the way Nagito smiled when he caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier, something you hadn’t seen him do… ever.
“I don’t mind, really, Nagito.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, making him blush once more. His face was already almost permanently red around you. “Besides, it’s not like anyone actually cares if we’re fucking… they probably won’t think at all about ”
“Ah...” Nagito pursed his lips as you finished climbing the stairs to the hotel’s restaurant. “About that...” His words fell on deaf ears however, as you pushed open the doors. All your classmates were already there, and though you expected to be able to slip in without much notice, all conversation paused as the two of you walked in. Everybody’s eyes turned to you at once.
“Good mo-or-orning lovebirds!” Ibuki sang, waving her utensils and accidentally splattering some of her food onto Byakuya. You froze completely, your eyes widening.
“Good morning, Mioda-san.” Nagito said from behind you. You turned to him, but he seemed most unfazed. There was still a light blush on his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if that was from earlier or now.
“Mioda-chan!” Mahiru said crossly. “We agreed I would talk to them about it first!”
“Oh, fuck.” You covered your face with your hands. “Oh my fucking God. They all already knew.”
“Well… if it helps, we- we didn’t know until last night.” Mikan laughed nervously, before her own eyes widened. “Oh no! That probably doesn’t help! I’m so sorry, Koizumi-san!”
“Last night? What- oh no.” You could feel your face begin to burn. “Did.. did you...”
“A lot of us… heard you last night, yes.” Chiaki nodded. “Though I believe it was mostly the girls, as it came from the girls’ side of the dorms.”
“Komaeda, my man, I never thought I’d say this but like… how’d you do it?” Kazuichi asked.
“Now is not the time Soda-san!” Sonia chided. “(L/N)-san, did he at least pay you first?”
“I’m gonna do it.” You whispered to yourself. “I’m gonna walk into the ocean and never come back-”
“It’s somehow not that sort of deal. I keep trying but-” Nagito shrugged. You turned and glared at him furiously. “I sense I’ve made a mistake of some sort.”
“She doesn’t make him pay!” Hiyoko smirked, and just from the look you knew you wouldn’t like where this was going. “We all heard last night how much of a cum dump you are!” Several people gasped. Your face froze in what must have looked like a delirious grin. Your mind wouldn’t even register the words she was saying.
“I wish I could have heard.” Teruteru whined. “I’m sure the lady sounded… orgasmic in more than one sense of the word.”
“Haha!” Nagito said the words instead of actually laughing as he stepped out in front of you. He was smiling, but his eyes were cold. “I believe, besides last night, those sounds are usually reserved for me.”
“Whatever, weird choice aside, if she’s getting it from who she wants it’s cool!” Akane said around a mouthful of egg. “As long as she keeps it down! I almost didn’t make it to my early morning run today!”
“Thank you for getting us back to the point, Owari.” Byakuya sighed. “I hate this conversation with a newfound passion. Keep it down, please. Make sure your windows are closed.”
“What? But my windows are almost always closed!” You protested, thankful for the further change. “We’ve got AC, why would I-”
“It doesn’t matter!” Fuyuhiko groaned, shoving his chair away from the table. “And now I’ve completely lost my appetite. Can we go, Pekoyama?” She gave a curt nod, and they left to clear their plates.
“That’s cool! I’m gonna throw myself off one of the bridges today anyways!” You waved at them all. “Toodaloo!” With that, you began to walk away.
“She’s joking… I think.” You heard Nagito say behind you.
“I’m not!”
“...I’ll go with her. Ah, we’ll see you all at morning delegations- hey, wait up!”
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hwascripts · 3 years
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What Izuku would be like in a relationship: The positive traits, the toxic traits, his love language, my own personal headcanons and an overall conclusion
WC: unknown
TW// POTENTIAL SPOILERS, No smut but Izuku is aged up, Toxic traits aren’t necessarily toxic...more so just bad traits, Teeny tiny little bit of angst, I think that’s it!
Masterlist
Disclaimer: I am in no way claiming the following headcanons are true. You are 100% free to disagree with me but please DO NOT send me hateful comments or asks. I am simply writing what I think Deku would be like in a relationship
a/n: Just to let you know, your nickname for him is Zuku just so you don’t think I kept spelling his name wrong.
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-Deku is literally the kindest soul ever and it makes me want to cry. He’d give you his umbrella if you ever forgot yours, he’d literally carry you to first aid if you ever injure yourself- this man will legitimately do everything for you
-He’s incredibly observant. If he catches you looking at a pretty ring then he’ll literally show up at your door days later with that very same ring in his hands
“I saw you looking at it a few days ago and I wanted to surprise you!”
“Zuku baby oh my god how much did you spend?!”
“You don’t need to worry about it sunshine”
I wholeheartedly believe Izuku would call you his sunshine or something along those lines
-I have this one headcanon of him drawing you all the time as an excuse to “observe you and your quirk” but it’s really just because he wants to admire the way you shine underneath the sun- and that’s how he came up with the name Sunshine for you
-Deku has a heart of gold oh my god, this guy cares so much about you it’s unreal. Imagine trying to hide the fact that you’ve been crying while on a phone call- mission failed because he heard your shaky voice and now he’s on your doorstep with your favourite hoodie of his and your favourite snacks
-His memory is insanely good, like it’s freaky how good it is. Like you mentioned to him ONCE that you liked a certain drink and now he pulls up to your dates with that drink all the time (not like I’d complain if Deku brought me my favourite drink)
-Just like Bakugou, Deku is incredibly smart and he literally always comes up with a solution. You could literally vent to him about a problem you’re having at work and he’s come up with at least 73 solutions within 6 hours
-He’s determined and hardworking. Again, he’s just like Bakugou in the sense that he’ll put his blood, sweat and tears into whatever he’s doing- no matter if it’s a serious high stake mission or something like planning your weekly date. The second he puts his mind to something, he makes sure to give it his all.
-Izuku is your own personal cheerleader, this dude will hype you up no matter what. Training after work? he’s cheering for you. You completed a really difficult task? you better believe he’s gonna pat you on the back for it.
-He’s very protective of you. Remember when the LOV attacked the training camp and he rushed to find Kota? yeah he’s 10x more protective of you.
-And it’s not because he thinks you’re weak and can’t defend yourself, it’s because he genuinely worries about you all the time and just wants to make sure your always safe
-He’s an inspirational person, he makes you hella motivated to do even the most boring chores around the house
-Deku isn’t afraid to show his emotions. Unlike Bakugou, he’s often seen showing his emotions. Deku said “toxic masculinity who?”. He definitely gives 0 fucks if someone sees him crying/upset because I feel like Pro-Hero Deku would stop the stupid mindset of “Hero’s can’t show their genuine emotions”
-Izuku is the type of person to analyze all his losses, figure out what he did wrong and then learn from it to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake again. He’s the complete opposite of Bakugou who gets bitter over his losses due to his superiority complex.
-He’s so good at comforting you that it’s unbelievable. Deku gives the warmest hugs that make you feel so safe- you literally cannot change my mind about this
-You know those hugs where the other person lightly rubs your back and lightly sways side to side with you? Yeah those are the hugs that Deku gives (he’d definitely give you a sweet little kiss on the forehead/cheek)
“Sunshine come here, let me hold you while you let out all your frustrations. I’ve got you, nothing can hurt you while you’re here with me”
-Can you tell I want some comforting Izuku hugs? He wouldn’t let go of you until he put a smile back on your face and GAHH oh my god I need Izuku hugs
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-As much as I hate to do this, it needs to be done 😔✊🏻
-Izuku is such an over thinker, this guy worries about EVERYTHING under the sun. Your eyes didnt crinkle when you smiled? he’ll think you’re upset with him. You gave him a side hug rather than a normal hug? he’ll think he did something wrong.
-He’s self aware that he overthinks things but he just can’t seem to stop his thoughts. No matter how many times you reassure him that you aren’t upset with him, he’s subconsciously thinking about how to make it up to you
-He constantly pushes himself past his limits. You guys saw how many times he’s broken his bones. Deku may be intelligent but when it comes to his own self he can be completely hopeless
-The amount of times you’ve scolded him while you clean up his scrapes and cuts is insane. He just sits on the toilet lid and bites his lip nervously while you wave your finger angrily at him
“Sunshine please, I said I was sorry and that it won’t happen again!”
“Zuku you and I both know that’s a damn lie, I’ve had to patch you up 3 times this week! When are you going to start being more considerate of your limits?”
-I’m sorry but I picture him being so nervous to initiate anything with you. This guy would be so fidgety just by THINKING about holding your hand
-And deep down he knows he’s being ridiculous because come on, you’re his S/O and he’s been dating you for years now- why does he still get shaken up just by holding your hand?
-At first you think it’s cute, he’s just being respectful of your boundaries- but as time goes on you kind of get a little annoyed because he always asks you a bunch of times if you’re okay with him being affectionate.
“Zuku...sweetheart you know you don’t need to ask me a million times if I want to cuddle, right? I love cuddling with you!”
*cue sweating* “I’ll keep that in mind, Sunshine”
-He eventually gets a lot more comfortable with affection...more often than not you wake up with him nuzzled into your side like a cat
(Side note PLEASE wake him up with a bunch of kisses, he’ll literally melt)
-He’s very insecure about his scars because they make him feel like he’s “ugly” and sometimes he doesn’t even want you to look at them
-Do me a favour and please kiss along his scars/ trace them with your fingers while you compliment him- he’ll start crying because the scars he thought made him ugly are now starting to look beautiful to him
-This isn’t necessarily a toxic trait, more like a bad habit. Whenever Izuku gets stressed he’ll train himself to the brink of exhaustion just so he can try to focus on something other than how stressed he is
-Again, not a toxic trait but a bad one...Deku puts everyone else before himself. Which isn’t a bad thing if it’s done in a healthy amount, but Izuku goes to the extreme. I feel like he’d neglect his own needs just to satisfy everyone else and you’d have to intervene before it gets worse
“Sunshine I said I was fine, you don’t need to worry about me! Your Zuku is perfectly energized and ready to go”
“Zuku don’t lie to me, you know I can read you like a book. You’re coming with me and I’m putting you to bed”
-I hate to say it but this guy hates confrontation so much that sometimes he’ll suffer in silence for MONTHS before he even hints at being upset with something
-I honestly think your biggest argument with him would be about his lack of communication in terms of him not being completely honest about how he feels and he just breaks down-
-Like he has a really bad breakdown because he’s been bottling everything up for so long because he hates the idea of fighting with you.
-And now he’s sobbing because he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t know what else to do
-Anyways, the two of you just silently comfort each other until you’ve both calmed down enough to talk properly. This is the night Izuku finally starts opening up to you rather than bottling up every negative emotion he feels
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-I honestly think his love language is a mixture of giving you gifts and words of praise
-He’s a little shy when it comes to showing you how he feels through affection, so giving you gifts and his praise get his point across
-He’s totally the type to send you cute messages throughout the day, send cute selfies when he misses you, or he just sends you a random bouquet of flowers because he saw them and thought of you
-Also the type of guy to have photos of the two of you displayed around his office. His most prized one being the photo of your first mission together
-Just warning you now that if you ever mention that your suit ripped or a certain item isn’t functioning properly then he’ll literally buy 10 replacements- each one better than the last
“Zuku I said that the sole of my BOOT ripped off, not my entire suit!”
“Well now you have 10 new upgraded suits to make sure it won’t happen again! Isn’t it great, Sunshine?”
(Someone take his credit card away from him)
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I definitely think Izuku would be an amazing S/O! He’s caring, kind and comforting- and he does his very best to try and work on the bad habits he has.
Overall, I would say Izuku definitely would win a “S/O of the year award” (sorry Bakugou)
476 notes · View notes
kamotoshi · 3 years
Text
intent [kamo noritoshi x reader]
pairing: kamo noritoshi (the good one) x sorcerer! fem reader 
genre: fluff, comfort
warnings: the whole story revolves around the reader being injured so there are brief mentions of medication, pain, and injuries; toshi bein a headass
word count: 3.7k
overview: you have to wonder what your best friend’s intentions are when he’s gone out of his way to visit you during every day of your recovery, no matter how busy he is
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On one of the walls surrounding you, the clock’s hand shifts from one minute to the next. Through the speakers of your laptop, the movie you’ve stopped paying attention to long ago drones on in the background. Instead of focusing on the plot, you’ve taken to gazing out the window, watching the lush foliage outside painted vivid oranges and blues by the sunlight breaking through dark clouds dance in the breeze, as if celebrating the end of yet another spring shower. It feels hard to remember the last time you went for a walk outside—or anywhere, for that matter—and the more you think about how painful it is to be bedridden and out of action, the more you start to feel the dull, seemingly constant aches laying siege to your exhausted body.
Thankfully, the sound of the door to your temporary living quarters opening and closing again distracts you from your depressing thoughts, and, instead, makes your heart flutter with hope. Plastic crinkling, fabric shifting, and footsteps padding along the floor reach your ears next before a tall and familiar figure appears in the doorway to the bedroom. There’s a moment’s hesitation on his journey into the room, as if he’d been worried about disturbing you, but he continues with confidence when he sees you’re awake and expecting him.
With a small smile, you greet him, “Hey, ‘Toshi.”
“Hey,” he replies, “how are you feeling?” The long sleeves of his loose-fitting robes flutter behind him like a butterfly’s wings as he wanders over to the chair beside the bed you’ve been confined to for the past few days.
You shrug, glancing down at the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m alright, I guess.”
His eyes dart from the screen of your laptop to your own gaze, then back again. With furrowed brows, he adds, “What are you watching?”
“I wish I could tell you.”
“What’s the point of putting something on if you’re not gonna watch it? What else were you even doing?” he questions.
A scoff echoes from your throat at the fact that you’ve become the sudden subject of an unnecessary interrogation over such a trivial topic, but you can’t help the wry chuckle that follows upon noticing his unfazed expression. As usual, he doesn’t see the issue in such small debates. “I always could leave it to you to argue about the most irrelevant things.” In spite of the dull, warning pain that pangs in the side of your torso, you reach over to move your fingers over your laptop’s trackpad, but Noritoshi quickly stops you and does the job for you.
“Has everyone here been taking care of you while I’ve been gone?” is his next, surprisingly relevant question.
Leaning back against the pillows propped up behind you should give your body a sense of ease, but after spending so much time in one spot, you’re desperate to do the opposite instead. “Yeah. They’ve been checking in on me and bringing me food and painkillers, so I can’t complain.” Your lips curl into a small, devious grin when you mention, “You know, I went on a walk around the place with one of your servants and he told me all these funny stories about you when you were little, including the one where you accidentally gave yourself an awful haircut and refused to leave home without a hat.”
Self-consciously, he fingers the wrappings holding his dark strands of hair together, mindlessly beginning to unravel them. Though his attention is conveniently directed at the computer screen, you can see the blush that dusts his cheeks before his hair falls in front of his face when he removes its bindings. As much as you want to tease him over the event that had happened during his childhood, you find yourself at a brief loss for words at how he looks now. The way your heart thrums just a bit faster and harder is undeniable and fills your body with a different kind of pain, since you wonder if he’s ever looked at you the same way you’re looking at him.
Tracing over the handsome features of his face with your gaze, resisting the urge to separate the kinks in his hair from being held together so tightly all day, hoping you become the center of his attention again.
“You know we have movies here, right?”
His comment abruptly interrupts your thoughts, and you clear your throat before shooting back a, “What?”
“The one you’re watching is horrible.”
“Oh? And how would you know?”
He purses his lips and glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a somewhat uncomfortable pause before he blurts out, “A friend.”
“You’re a horrible liar,” you retort with a snicker.
You swear you see a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll bring back a better one from my room for us to watch after I go and change.” When his dark eyes meet with yours, there’s a tinge of something indiscernible in them. Sadnesss, regret, maybe a bittersweet kind of relief? It reminds you of how he’d first looked at you when he’d helped you into the bed in which you lie now.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” You shake your head. “Alright. I picked some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back to cook in ten minutes.” He frowns at the shocked expression that appears across your face at the mention of him cooking, since it’s such a rare occasion—due mostly to his lack of skill in the area—and rises to his feet once more. He does, however, extend his hand toward you and say, “Come on, I’ll help you into the other room since I know you’d be too worried sitting in here while I make us something to eat.”
A coy smile forms across your lips as you shove the covers aside, exposing your legs clad in sweatpants to the cool air in the room. “You know me so well, don’t you?” is the remark you send his way in a facetious manner that only fuels Noritoshi’s chagrin. His hand feels incredibly warm against yours when he grabs it to help you out of your confinement in the shape of a memory foam mattress, and you tighten your grip around it as your legs tremble with fatigue. Moving closer to you, he allows you to wrap your arms around one of his to support yourself, bringing your body flush against his
“Eight years.”
“Huh?” Your eyes, which had been formerly directed at the floor to mask the effects of your racing heart, shoot upwards toward him.
His eyebrows furrow in that judgmental, what do you mean ‘huh’? type of look he always made and wondered why others recoiled at the sight of it. “That’s how long we’ve known each other, so it’s no wonder why I know you so well.”
Giving his arm a playful squeeze, you shoot back, “Didn’t know you’d been keeping count.”
“It’s basic math.”
“’Toshi… you’re so, brutally honest. No wonder I’m, like, your only friend.”
“So?” he murmurs, arm dipping to support you, then lifting once more when your leg nearly gives out on you, “I’d rather have you than anyone else.”
The way he lets what he’s just said be known in his unabashedly straightforward manner of speaking, without tacking any other comments on to verify his intentions are purely platonic sends a wave of comforting warmth washing over you. Over the years, you’ve known him for his sometimes abrasively candid nature, but you’ve always appreciated that he’s never left you to question the value he places on your friendship. In spite of his shy tendencies that seemed to be limited mostly to interactions with you when the two of you had first become friends, he’d never been one to beat around the bush—and he still didn’t now.
Though you’ve always assumed his comments like the one he’d just made were meant in a friendly way, you can’t help but wonder if maybe there is something he’s not being forthcoming about. If maybe his more relaxed pace while walking with you accompanied by his lingering touch as he helps you onto the couch is his way of prolonging the time during which he gets to be closer to you. If maybe the subtle softness to his expression while he watches you settle is a result of love rather than just a superficial level of concern. If maybe him opening his clan’s estate to you as a refuge where you could safely recover had been done out of a deeper affection he harbored for you instead of his own guilt at not being able to protect you in the situation that had led to your injury.
But these are speculations you force into the back of your mind out of the fear you’re being imaginative and presumptuous. Surely, if he’d felt anything more than friendship towards you, he would’ve said something by now… right? It’s getting harder to believe with each visit he spends at your bedside, falling asleep with his head on your shoulder while he’s sitting beside you or resting by your legs as he slumps over onto the bed from where he sits in his chair. Seeing him go out of his way to support you, as he’s doing now while he stands in front of the stove—glaring at all the ingredients before him like he’s attempting to intimidate them into making a meal out of themselves—doesn’t help rid you of your persistent thoughts either.
Thankfully, you’re able to find a bit of distraction through conversation with him about his day. Between your glances over at him, you take to staring out the window, watching the rain come pounding down against the earth once more. Unbeknownst to you, Noritoshi finds his eyes on your form each time he looks up from what he’s doing, but they flicker back to the task at hand upon noticing your head turn back to keep a careful watch on him. Unfortunately, the moment you smell good food is when you let your guard down, and it’s not until there’s a haze in the room that you realize you’ve had too much faith in him.
Tearing your gaze away from the flowers Tōdō had brought you earlier in the morning, you shoot a pointed look over your shoulder at where Noritoshi stands in the kitchen. “Noritoshi, the food’s burning.”
“No, it’s still cooking,” is his swift response laced with confidence, as is usual for him. There’s a loud sizzle when he nudges whatever’s in the skillet onto the other side, sending another plume of smoke upwards
“It’s literally smoking.”
With a sigh, he turns on the fan above the oven and quells the flame beneath the pan with a turn of one of the knobs. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he prods rather cautiously at what you can only assume is a lump of coal with a fork. You don’t need to see his face to know that he’s realized the error of his ways, since his broad shoulders slump ever so slightly. You’re sure part of him wants desperately to say that it’s not that bad, but you only hear the grating sound of him chipping away at the scorched food.
It’s hard to keep a straight face, especially when he turns away from the disastrous attempt at cooking to face you and ask:
“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”
Your answer to his question finds a box of your favorite food in your lap about a half hour later, and him close by your side as the two of you eat and watch one of the movies he’d brought over from his room. With the darkness of the sky outside and the warmth residing inside you both at having enjoyed a meal much more pleasant than the one he’d tried and failed to make, it’s no wonder you find him dozing off. And it’s only a matter of time before his head comes to rest against your shoulder—an action you can only assume was done unintentionally in his sleep, but that sends heat rising up to your face anyway.
As much as you enjoy having him close and feeling his deep breaths tickle your collarbone, you decide to nudge him back into consciousness after about fifteen minutes of letting him snooze in case he wants to go back to his own room.
“’Toshi…?”
“Hey,” he murmurs nearly unintelligibly, “are you okay? Do you need anything?” The level of concern in his voice and the questions he asks before his eyes have even fluttered open make it challenging to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your lips. Your noses nearly brush when he lifts his head, and the small squeak you nearly let out soon morphs into a gentle chuckle at the way he blinks slowly and knits his brows together with confusion as he tries to regain his bearings.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, you assure him, “I’m fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to bed.”
He frowns. “Maybe,” is his reply exhaled in a deep sigh as he stands so he can offer you his hand once more. “C’mon, I’ll help you back to the bedroom.”
There’s a somewhat heavy silence in the air after you thank him and latch onto his arm to steady yourself. Whereas his lack of chattiness is most likely from his own fatigue weighing heavily on him, yours stems from one of the many questions that’s been lingering in your mind. With the way he’d been going out of his way to assist you and keep you company between his missions, you can’t help but wonder what his true intentions are—and if he’ll tell you when asked. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to ask, however, and your own self-consciousness keeps you quiet while he helps you back into your temporary bed yet again.
He lingers, though, almost as if he can sense you have something on your mind with the way you’ve gone silent. So, he takes a seat beside you on the plush mattress and places his hands in his lap. The flash of lightning that brings a slow, rumbling roar of thunder along with it distracts him for a moment and his fingers grip each other tightly. He hates thunderstorms, and you’re one of the only people who know. In a movement that feels instinctual, you reach for his hand, sending a soft smile his way when he slides his clammy palm between your warm ones.
Maybe it’s because you know he’s feeling just as vulnerable as you are—which is a rare occasion with the walls he’s built up around his more personal thoughts and feelings—but words start rolling off your tongue before you can stop them.
“Say, ‘Toshi?” you ask. He hums in response, the low tone of his voice nearly lost beneath the rhythmic thrumming of rain crashing down against the roof. “Can I ask you something?”
“What is it?” Though his words were laced with exhaustion not that long ago, he seems much more alert now. Whether it’s his fear or his intrigue, you’re unsure, but his eyes meeting yours makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. The way you’re acting now brings a question you don’t intend on voicing to the forefront of your mind: How did I manage to deny my feelings for so long?
But the one you ask is: “Why are you doing all this for me?”
His brow raises. “What do you mean?” In a manner that’s comedic to you, he glances around the room, looking for whatever it is you’re referencing.
“I mean everything. Letting me stay here, taking care of me when you’re here, baking me dessert; hell, you even tried to cook me dinner.” Another clap of thunder gives you pause, and his fingers tighten around one of your hands. “So, what’s all this for?”
Brushing a few strands of raven-colored hair away from his face with his unoccupied fingers, he states, “I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”
Your face tingles with prickles of heat at his comment, but the sensation fades slightly when you notice his gaze has dropped to his lap and he’s allowed his bangs to shroud his expression. He doesn’t have the look of determination or even adoration in his eyes of someone who’s ready to confess their feelings. No, he looks guilty.
“Why?”
He fills his lungs with a deep breath that he releases in a drawn-out sigh before answering, “Because if I hadn’t suggested we split up during that mission, then this wouldn’t have happened to you.” The warm feeling of hope that had been swelling in your heart grows cold, like a flame extinguished by an icy gust of wind. “I needed to be the one to take care of you since I got you into this mess. This whole thing was my fault.”
“Oh, I see.” The biting undertones of your words don’t go unnoticed by him like they might normally would, since he lifts his head to look at you. With a shrug, you snap, “So you’re only doing all this to clear your guilty conscience, then?”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” is his rebuttal spoken with brows furrowed.
“What the hell else was that supposed to mean, then? How was I meant to take that? Because to me it just sounds like you’re doing this to make yourself feel better.”
He shakes his head in an act of irritation toward himself. “Yes, I feel guilty, but that’s not the main reason why I’m doing this.”
“What, did you do it to be seen as a hero? An amazing sorcerer who’s also an admirable friend? Someone capable of doing the right thing?” you retort sarcastically, the sting of rejection parading as rage tainting your tongue.
“I’m doing it because I love you!”
In the long, somewhat awkward silence that follows his confession, you almost expect his face to fall. For him to realize that he’d revealed something that he hadn’t meant to. Or, worse, for him to tack the condition, “as a friend,” onto the end of it.
But the honesty in his dark eyes doesn’t waver. He doesn’t turn away and mutter about wishing he hadn’t said what he did. He doesn’t backtrack to revise his confession in a way that would keep you safely in the friend zone.
Instead, he says it again with the same level of confidence: “I love you.”
And adds, “More than I think you understand.”
His grip around your hand tightens in a gentle manner different to the fear with which he’d clutched it before with each flash of lightning outside. “You… do?” you whisper as your heart begins to ache in the tight vise of regret you now feel at your outburst. He nods without hesitation in response, and a small tug on his sleeve beckons him closer to you, driving away the chill in the air between your bodies.
For a moment, neither of you move, and, instead, gaze at each other as if your eyes are speaking silent reassurances. Despite the confident nature of his words, his actions are somewhat timid, since you don’t feel his breath fan across your face until you cup his in your hands. But, as soon as you utter those same words in return and press your lips to his, he kisses away any lingering doubts or worries, as well as your quiet apologies. While the storm rages on outside, you can only hear your own heartbeat and the short breaths you take between each tender yet passionate meeting of your lips. It feels as if a great deal of time has passed before you pull away, and you’re grateful for every second of it.
Without so much as a second thought, you make yourself at home in his arms already wrapped around you, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His warmth envelops you when he carefully tightens his grip around you to avoid hurting you, and any pain you’d felt earlier seems to dissipate in the glow of happiness and overwhelming relief that have taken its place. Noritoshi nestles his face against the side of yours, and his body steadily becomes heavier against yours until the peace is disturbed by another roar sounding from the skies above.
“This storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” he sighs, “Want me to stay here with you?”
Before you can even answer, he starts peeling back the covers and settling himself down in bed beside you. And in spite of your heart fluttering with joy at the thought of him spending the night with you, the opportunity to tease him is too enticing for you to let it slip away. “Why would I need you to stay here with me, huh?”
As usual, however, he’s unnerved by your attempt at catching him off-guard, and calmly replies, “In case the power goes out or you can’t sleep because of all the noise, obviously.”
A wry chuckle bubbles in your throat as you lie down beside him and move the side of your head onto his chest. “Obviously. Where would I be without you here to take care of me? I’m very lucky to have someone as diligent as you are by my side, aren’t I?” you simper.
His fingers interlace with the ones you have resting on his torso running absentmindedly along the soft fabric of his sweater. Giving your hand a tender squeeze and pausing a moment to admire the way your palm fits into his, he murmurs, “I think I’m the lucky one.”
Your last statement had been delivered somewhat facetiously but seeing the way his cheek comes to rest against the pillow so he can look over at you with only pure, unwavering honesty makes you add, in a more serious tone, “That makes two of us, then.”
380 notes · View notes
anyoneseenadam · 3 years
Note
i just read your fenrys fic and omg it’s so so good!!! i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you could write a fenrys smut? ur smut pieces always hit different and ur one of the only people that i’ve found that writes for him
pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)
warnings: lots of smut, like this is filthy, lil bit ddlg dynamic but defo dom/sub overtones, daddy kink, spit kink, creampie, size kink, praise kink, degredation, bulge kink, overstimulation, not proof read so may have grammar errors sorry :))
a/n: okay my kinks rlly jumped out phew. this is pure filth but I hope you enjoy!! also thank you, fenrys is my fave and I think you can tell <33 (also Fenrys is the only character I would let baby me the rest can choke) (jkjk love them but still)
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“Gods you smell so good,” Fenrys breathed in your ear, his voice rough and deep as his hands circled around your waist.
“Daddy, we’re in public,” you complained leaning back into his arms as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck.
“I know baby, we should get home soon. I can smell your panties getting wet, what are you thinking about huh?” you whined as he pulled away, his bulking size no longer pressed against your back as he pulled you away from the stall of rings you had been looking at. You grabbed his hand in both of yours and followed, tugging his hand so he would slow his pace, your legs not keeping up with his long strides.
“You daddy,” you answered meekly, and he grinned down at you, the sight of his canines making you whimper as you thought of the bite marks trailing your inner thighs.
“Good girl,” he whispered into your hair as he tugged you into his side, pressing a kiss to your head and keeping you tucked in tight as the two of you walked home.
The house you lived in was a sharp contrast to the palaces your friends lived in. It was a small stone cottage with a thatched roof and big garden, filled with vegetables, plants and flowers. Along with the cherry blossom tree the two of you had planted after the war, the sight always making you smile. Inside the cottage was the soft, book-filled, and blanket covered interior of your dreams. Everything was in shades of baby pink, sage green or brown, with hand knitted, crème-coloured blankets and homemade scented candles. There were also many crystals dotted about the house, your wolf an avid believer in the power of the moon, while you simply turned to them for comfort and strength.
Today as you entered your haven however you didn’t get a chance to breathe in the rustic, flowery smell, barely finding time to pull off your boots and long coat before Fenrys was throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you through to the bedroom.
You were thrown on your bed, landing on the plush pink cushions with a squeal and a laugh when the bed springs squeaked. Fenrys was quick to climb over you, covering your body with his as he kissed you deeply, his right thigh pushing between yours. You mewled and started rutting into his thigh, desperate for some relief, barely able to go a day without touching your mate anymore.
Fenrys cooed at you, “So desperate for me aren’t you baby, do you need daddy to help you?”
You nodded, crying out as he pressed his thigh harder against your covered cunt. “Need you so bad daddy!” you whined, and he chuckle, kissing away your pout as you clung to his neck.
“Patience little one, let’s get you undressed first,” he pulled off you abruptly and you whined as he picked you up, so you were standing, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You were quick to pull off you clothes, hands fumbling with the back of your dress until Fenrys unzipped it for you, when you were just in your bra and panties he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you deeply again. You trailed your hands over his expansive chest, feeling his impressive muscles and rutting in his lap slightly as you moved to straddle him. You kissed for a few more minutes, Fenrys tongue completely dominating your own as he groped your ass greedily with one hand and tangled the other in your hair, tugging lightly when you moved too much.
“Lie down baby, daddy’s gonna eat that sweet pussy now,” he said, and you moaned into his mouth, hastily moving back, and lying on top of the white blanket you had knitted pink hearts into. He smiled at you as he moved between your legs, slowly pulling your panties down and bringing them to his nose, inhaling your scent.
“Daddy don’t its embarrassing!” you exclaimed but he silenced you with a look,
“You never need to be embarrassed in front of me bunny, you know this,” he told you off and you frowned, nodding as he threw the panties away. He spread your legs for him, hooking the left over his shoulder as he moved in closer and smiled at the sight of your glistening pussy on display for him.
“So pretty baby,” he cooed, and you smiled, not forgetting your manners.
“Thank you daddy.” He smiled up at you before leaning in a licking a stripe up your pussy with a flat tongue making you squeal. He started sucking on your clit gently, easing you into it as he kept your legs spread with huge hands. His teeth ran over your clit gently and you moaned loudly, knowing he liked it when you were responsive for him and made the sounds he wished he could lap up.
Your hands fisted the soft bedsheets as he moved down, his tongue probing into your tight hole as his index finger came up and started rubbing soft circles on your clit. His thick tongue worked into you and he moaned at your taste, wishing he could bottle it and get drunk of you every night. The vibrations went through you like shock waves, and you cried out, grabbing his golden hair in your fist as your hips bucked up, legs shaking.
He pulled back, pressing kisses into your thighs, his lips and chin glistening with your essence, but he was soon diving back in and eating you like a man starved. He went back in with increased vigour, slurping at your folds and trying to drink from your endless supply of nectar. The thumb that had been making soft circles on your clit moved down and he pressed a finger into you, his cold hands creating a sharp contrast with your hot core. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you with a distinctive squelching sound.  
“Daddy!” you cried out as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch hurting only for a second or two until pleasure took over your body, “Daddy, I’m going to come, please please can I come?” you begged, hips jolting as he dragged your clit between his teeth.
“Mmm wait baby,” he commanded, and you gripped the sheets tighter under your hand, your head thrashing from side to side as you held back from cumming. Fenrys added a third finger making you scream as he pumped them harshly in and out of your pussy, lips never releasing your clit from it’s beautiful torment.
You could feel your body heating up and you got nervous, never liking to come until you were allowed, Fenrys made it very clear that you weren’t allowed to do that, but you were struggling to hold on.
“Daddy! I need to come please! I can’t hold it,” you sobbed as he pulled his lips from your clit, replacing them with the rough pad of his thumb.
“Cum then baby, I wanna taste you,” he smirked as you mewled, legs shaking as you clenched around his fingers, cumming all over his hand with a silent scream. Fenrys pulled his fingers from you but continued to lap at your abused pussy until you were pushing his head away, too overstimulated.
When Fenrys sat up he smiled down at your worn out form, cock hard and straining against his boxers as he licked your essence clean from his fingers. He pulled his boxers down and discarded them, gaining your attention as you reached a small hand to his cock, wrapping your dainty fingers around it and pumping slowly. He moaned and enjoyed your touch for a few minutes before he was pulling back, settling between your legs and pushing into your tight hole, the two of you groaning as he slid to the base.
You felt so full, his huge cock pushing just right against your walls, your pussy hugging him so tightly as he began rutting into you.
“Fuck, I forgot how good you were for daddy. Hmm? Just his little slut, his little baby, you’ll let me take you whenever won’t you.” You babbled out pleas, unable to form a thought as he started pounding you into the mattress, “Look at you, such a good baby, so good for me. Always hug me just right, keep me so warm babygirl.”
“Daddy I need…” you cried but Fenrys cut you off.
“I know what you need and right now it’s to take my cock like the good little girl you are.” His hips were hitting your at a bruising pace while one hand came to tug your tits out of your bra, pulling it down just enough to free them to him as he reached down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, tugging at it with his teeth. Your legs were wrapped around his lean waist and with every thrust his pubic bone rutted against your clit making you cry out.
“Are you going to come already baby? Can feel you clenching around me, so needy just a cock drunk slut,” he pounded into you and you sobbed, pleasure taking over your body.
“I’m going to come daddy!” you cried out.
“Do it baby, let go. I want to feel you soak me,” he demanded, and you fell apart around him. your back arched of the bed and your hands clawed at him back as you released over his dick, cunt pulsing around him and tightening even more than it already was.
He slowed his thrusts but didn’t pull out as you came down from your high, rolling over onto his back so you were sat on his cock. You looked at him with wide eyes at the change in position, his cock being pushed impossibly deeper into you and making you mewl.
His gaze trailed down your body as he removed your bra, stopping when he saw a bulge in your stomach, cooing at you. “Oh baby, you poor thing, I’m all the way in you, can you feel me that deep bunny?”
You nodded at him, unable to form coherent sentences as you struggled to stay upright on his cock. “C’mon baby, bounce for me hmm? Ride me baby I know you can.”
You tried to lift your hips, only pulling halfway up before you sank back down, crying out from the overstimulation.
“You can do better than that baby,” he urged you on and you tried again, pushing up with your hands splayed on his chest, tits in his face. This time you managed a few more thrusts before you were practically collapsing onto his chest.
“Such a dumb baby, so cock drunk can’t do anything without daddy’s help.” Fenrys was smiling at your worn out form as he bent his knees, digging his heels into the mattress and wrapping his huge arms around your form, holding you close as he started fucking into you roughly.
The constant pounding of his hips was all you could think of, your mind completely blank. You were completely consumed by him, his smell, the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his rough, callused hands rubbing over your back and the fullness that came from being stuffed with his cock. You were soaking wet, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the bed and the smell of your essence was everywhere, driving Fenrys insane as he forced your body up and down his cock.
Your body had turned to putty as he used you as he pleased, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got nearer his release, the clenching of your pussy giving away that you were just as close.
“I’m gonna come baby, gonna fill you up till I’m leaking out of you, I wanna watch you leak me, wanna feel it.” you moaned into his ear at his crude words.
“Do it daddy! Fill me up please!” you sobbed out as you came around his cock, crying out as he slammed into you one final time. You felt his cum fill you, leaking out of you and down his cock as the two of you tried to catch your breaths after your powerful, bone shaking orgasms.
You looked up from your place on Fenrys chest and smiled softly at him as you leaned up to kiss him sweetly in thanks.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered against your lips and you giggled. He shifted and slowly pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of contact. He stood and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wiping himself down before kneeling in front of you and wiping you down too. He pressed a final peck to your pussy and you let out a breathy whimper, reaching out to him with grabby hands as he pulled on a pair of boxers before climbing back into bed, falling asleep with your head on his chest, content.
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quickspinner · 3 years
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Oops - Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3
(See part 1 for summary and warnings)
Marinette was having a hard time keeping her mind on girls’ night. Rose and Juleka had just signed a new lease to move in together in the coming month, and it should have been exciting, but somehow she just couldn’t get into the discussions about decor and whose couch they should keep and how many dishes they really needed.
Marinette had other things on her mind. 
Her phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced at the others quickly before turning it over. 
Sorry, babe, I’ve got a gig that day. Wish I could.
Marinette bit her lip, trying not to be upset. She started to type a reply, when another set of messages came in. 
You could come if you want We could go home together after Just go easy on the drinks this time ;)
Marinette giggled, but sent back You sure? I won’t be in the way?
I’d want you there even if you were. You’re small, we can stick you in an instrument case if we need to
Marinette laughed aloud at that. 
Should I dress up? she typed.
Anything you wear looks good on my floor. Do what makes you happy 
Marinette pressed her legs together, bouncing her knees, and then sent, before she could rethink it, Doing you makes me happy.
There was a long pause before his next message, and then it was just an address and a time, followed by Can’t wait to see you Friday . And Saturday morning. Don’t make lunch plans. 
Marinette gave a little squeal, hiding her face in her hands. 
All of the girls were looking at her with varying expressions. Juleka and Alix looked amused, Rose excited, and Mylène just looked happy for her. 
Alya was looking at her with a slow spreading grin. “Well weeeeell,” she drawled, leaning on the counter between them. “Let me guess. Setting up your next booty call with your new boytoy?”
There was enough truth in that to make Marinette blush deeply. Alya cackled. 
“Details, girl,” she said, slapping the counter. “You’ve been doing this guy for weeks now, what’s the story? He must be good to still put that dopey look on your face after all this time.”
“What—n-no!” Marinette spluttered, looking at the rest of the girls. Juleka was rolling her eyes while Rose and Mylène covered giggles. Alix had that same amused expression as she shook her head slightly. “I’m not gonna talk about that,” Marinette insisted. “It’s none of your business!” 
“Come on, Mari, spill,” Alya said, leaning forward again. “It can’t be that embarrassing. Does he fuck you up against a wall with all your clothes on and call you a naughty girl?” 
Marinette choked, and Alya laughed. 
“Oh, Marinette, you’re such an innocent,” she chortled, sitting back with a smirk like she had gained some kind of victory. 
Marinette’s face burned with both shame and...anger. How dare Alya dismiss her just like that? Like they were still silly teenagers and Marinette couldn’t even talk to a guy, let alone take him home and—suddenly she realized she was tired of Alya’s patronizing, and on top of that, she felt insulted on Luka’s behalf. Taking a breath, Marinette straightened her shoulders and put on the best air of nonchalance she could manage despite her red face. “He probably would, if I asked him to,” she said airily. “But he really likes to take his time for that part.” Summoning up every ounce of the boldness Luka inspired in her, she blurted, “If he wants to make me come fast and hard, he uses his hands.” 
The entire room went silent as they all stared at her. Pretending like she didn’t feel like she was going to throw up from nerves and embarrassment any second, Marinette added dreamily, “He has amazing hands.” 
Alya raised her eyebrows, clearly amused and at least half disbelieving. “Not his tongue?” 
“He’s a great kisser,” Marinette smiled, deliberately misunderstanding. Alya grinned wolfishly. 
“No, girl, I mean when he e—“
“Oh, he’s great with his mouth on me too,” Marinette interrupted, eyes widening innocently. “It’s just, when he uses his hands, he can still use his voice. Mm, he has such a sexy voice.” The shudder that went through her was entirely real. “It makes me so…” she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it, and took a sip of her wine instead.
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I can’t believe that you like this guy dirty-talking you,” Alya accused, narrowing her eyes as she set her cup down with a slam. “Little miss sweetness and light. You can’t even handle it when we talk about fucking.”
Marinette shrugged as if she was completely indifferent to what Alya believed. “You don’t say it like he does,” she commented, and took another sip of her drink, staring off into the distance as if she’d completely forgotten Alya was there. She was stretching the truth a bit, she knew. It wasn’t dirty talk, not really, not the way Alya was thinking. Luka didn’t have to be filthy to work her up; he could recite phone listings in that hot, growling voice, and it would be enough to put her over the edge, so when he told her she was beautiful, that he loved the way she smelled or tasted or felt or sounded, or asked what she wanted, or suggested something he wanted her to do for him, or panted out how close he was…
She shivered again. 
Alya didn’t need to know that though. Marinette flicked her eyes around the others, a little nervous about their reactions. Mylène was smiling, Juleka was smirking, and Rose had her hands clasped together and was practically vibrating with excitement. Alix was snickering behind her hand.
“Aw, did Marinette just shatter all your illusions, Alya?” Alix laughed. “You just can’t handle that your oh-so-innocent bestie has a hot side piece.”
Marinette frowned. “Can you have a side piece if you don’t have a...a main piece?”
Alix patted her shoulder. “You can be your own main piece.” 
“Marinette,” Alya said, putting her drink down, suddenly serious. “This isn’t like you. Just who is this guy, anyway? Does he even have a day job?” 
“Yes,” Marinette frowned. “He’s a teacher.” It wasn’t a lie; Luka did teach private music lessons in addition to his performance work, but with Alya giving her that judgemental look, Marinette didn’t intend to give her any details. 
“Ooh, hot for teacher, nice.” Alix reached over and, though feeling a little foolish, Marinette met her high five, but Alya looked unconvinced.
“Well, just be careful,” Alya cautioned her. “You’re still on the rebound—” Am I? Marinette found herself wondering. It didn’t feel like it, actually, when she thought about it. “—and I know you’re feeling pretty vulnerable right now and I don’t want this guy taking advantage of you. If you wanna have fun with him, whatever, but be careful what you tell him and don’t loan him any money.” She sighed. “And especially, don’t fall in love with him. He’s a good time, and that’s it, and he’ll only break your heart if you start wanting more.” 
Marinette just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, as Alya turned away. There was a tense moment and then Rose piped up, “All right, are we ready for the movie? Let’s get started!” The girls all murmured agreement and began moving toward the living room.
Marinette put her drink down, 
“Hey,” Alix said, leaning over her shoulder. “Alya’s just trying to look out for you. She didn’t mean it how it sounded, you know that. If you say this guy is cool, I believe you, but it never hurts to watch out for yourself, right?”
“Y-yeah,” Marinette managed a weak smile. “I get it. Sure.” 
***
Marinette was having a shit day. One of her underlings had screwed up at work, which meant, to the bosses, that Marinette screwed up, and then she had to smile and take in the teeth from her bosses while soothing her horrified intern and trying to deal with the problems he’d caused. She’d complained about it to Alya when she got home, and stupidly, she’d mentioned that knowing she had a date with Luka tonight was the only thing that got her through the day. That earned her another well-intentioned condescending talking-to about being careful and not getting invested in something that was clearly only temporary. “I know you, Marinette,” Alya insisted. “He’ll say something sweet just trying to get you naked and you’ll get infatuated and start planning your whole future while the whole time he’s got one foot out the door.” Nino, who’d showed up to pick up Alya in the middle of it, had grudgingly sided with Alya over the whole thing. 
“It’s not really like you, Nette,” Nino said with an uncomfortable shrug. “I mean, I don’t want to be all judgy and weird. I just…well, you’ve...” He’d trailed off and hustled Alya out the door when he saw tears in Marinette’s eyes, leaving her at least with the dignity of breaking down in private. 
She flopped over the arm of the couch and sobbed until her phone beeped a reminder at her. Luka , she thought, touching her swollen face. She couldn’t go out like this. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. She just wanted to crawl into bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But she had this date, and…
Alya’s words flooded back and fresh tears fell down her face. Maybe Luka wouldn’t care if she canceled. Maybe…maybe she shouldn’t be feeling so sick about that thought. Maybe Alya was right and she was on the road to another heartbreak. Luka had never said anything, after that first day, about wanting anything more. They weren’t always having sex when they were together, they did other things, but they did always end up in bed eventually. But that didn’t mean anything! Right? Maybe—Marinette sighed. Maybe she didn’t need anything else to spiral about tonight, thanks so much, Alya. Why wasn’t she allowed to just have fun without Alya telling her what was best for her? She enjoyed spending time with Luka, and yeah, he made it clear he enjoyed all the... intimate things they did, but that didn’t mean— 
Focus , she reminded herself, wiping her eyes again. She still had a date tonight that she was in no condition to go to, and if she didn’t call soon Luka would already be on his way to meet her. 
She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and called him.
“Hey, beautiful, what’s up?” Luka asked, his smooth voice light and cheerful.
“Hi,” Marinette squeaked, and then gulped down a sob. Shit, she should have texted, she sounded awful.
Luka’s tone shifted immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 
“N-nothing major, I just...I had a really bad day and...I don’t think I’m up for our date tonight. I’m so sorry, I know it’s really last minute, I hope you haven’t left yet, I just—” She caught a tear on her hand and wiped it away, trying not to sniffle into the phone.
“Of course it’s okay,” Luka said, his voice low and soft. “Don’t force yourself, it’s fine. Do you want to talk about it?” 
“No,” Marinette choked, her throat tightening again. 
“Okay. Well, how about if I grab some takeout and bring you dinner? I can pick up something for your roommate too if you like.”
“Oh, you don’t—you don’t have to do that. Alya’s out with her boyfriend, I’m not sure she’s even coming back tonight. I mean, you don’t have to pick up anything at all, I can just scrounge something, I'll be fine, I think we have some...some ramen or something I can make…I’m not very hungry right now anyway.” Ugh, she was a babbling idiot, why hadn’t she just texted him.
“Late lunch?”
“No…” Marinette frowned, trying to think. “I don’t think I ate lunch.”
“Thought so,” Luka chuckled. 
“B-but—I—“
“I don’t have to stay if you’d rather be alone,” Luka told her, his voice so full of sympathy that she wanted to cry all over again. “But at least let me bring you something to eat. It’s not like I had other plans. What’s your favorite food to cry into?” His tone turned teasing. “I can at least bring you some real ramen instead of the instant stuff, if that’s really what you want.” 
Marinette bit her lip, picturing for a moment the congee she used to get at the shop by her old office. She loved it, because it reminded her of her mother’s, but she hadn’t had in in ages because they didn’t deliver to this part of town, and—
“Anything you want,” Luka told her softly. “Come on, what are you thinking about?” 
“It’s out of your way,” Marinette said, shifting on her couch. “I...give me just a second, I’ll think of something, um…” 
“Marinette,” Luka said, a touch of amusement in his voice. “Just tell me what you want. I’m all over this town for gigs all the time, a few extra subway stops won’t kill me.” 
She told him, and gave him directions. 
“Okay. I’ll go pick it up and be there as soon as I can. You take a nice long bath or a shower, or at least wash your face, okay? Get comfortable for a night in.”
Marinette smiled a little at his prescription, and whispered, “Okay.” She sat there a few minutes longer after they hung up, trying to gather enough caring to get up and do as he suggested. Finally she made it up off the couch, and drifted into the bathroom.
She cried more in the shower, but she did feel better after standing in the hot water, which at least relieved some of the stiffness and stinging of her face and eyes, and helped her breathe easier. She sat on her bed wrapped in her towel for a long moment, feeling limp and languid, but if she was sitting here naked when Luka showed up, he’d probably think she wanted some other kind of comforting, and she just wasn’t sure she felt like it tonight. She dug out one of her more modest nightgowns, made of thin, soft fabric that fell to her calves, with wide straps and a shallow scoop neck that covered most of her chest. It was still pretty, because Marinette liked pretty things, but it wasn’t seductive or anything like that. 
Not that she was in any condition to seduce anybody, she thought, as she pressed her fingers below her aching eyes. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let Luka come over. Would it hurt his feelings if she made him leave the food at the door?
Marinette had almost decided to do just that when she heard him knock. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, and then sighed. Well, if her puffy, blotchy face and stuffed up nose grossed him out and he didn’t want to see her anymore, then at least that would be one less thing for Alya to bitch at her about, she thought as she opened the door.
Luka’s expression shifted from concern to sympathy as soon as she came into view. “Aw, come here,” he said, reaching for her as he stepped inside. Marinette let him wrap his arm around her and leaned into him as he squeezed her. He kept her under his arm as he walked to the table, where he put the bag of food down and then turned to embrace her fully, folding her in a tight hug, as he swayed slightly and rubbed her back. It felt amazing, actually, and Marinette pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent and enjoying the firm feel of him, warm and solid. 
“You want to eat at the table or somewhere else?” he asked. 
“Couch?” she mumbled into his chest, and he steered her over to it. 
“Sit down then, and I’ll get it all ready.”
He brought her the bowl a few minutes later, sitting down next to her as he made sure she had a grip on it before he let go. “Do you want me to go?” he asked, tucking a damp lock of hair back from her face. “Or would you rather have some company? I won’t be offended, if you’d rather be alone.” 
Marinette looked up at him and opened her mouth, and then changed her mind, looking down with a blush. “Actually some company sounds nice,” she mumbled. 
Luka smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her temple gently. “Let me grab my food then.”
When he returned with his plate, he sat next to Marinette and put his arm around her shoulders. Marinette cuddled against his side, tucking her feet under herself. She admired the ease with which Luka balanced his plate on his knee as he ate, but then from some of the stories he’d told her she supposed he was probably used to eating in weird places
The congee felt good on her raw throat, and she ate almost the whole bowl before she sighed and set it on the coffee table to snuggle more firmly against Luka’s side. He’d already finished, and he put both arms around her. She told him a little bit about her day, leaving out the details of the argument with Alya, and Luka made sympathetic noises and kissed her forehead. 
Alya’s wrong about him , Marinette thought, tucking her face against his neck. He’d never treat anyone the way she thinks, even if it was only physical. He’s too sweet. And I don’t...I don’t think that’s what this is. I think...maybe he really meant what he said at the cafe. Maybe he still does. She took a shaky breath, and Luka’s face turned a little closer to hers, so she knew he was listening.
Marinette chickened out. “Could we...maybe get in bed and watch a movie?” 
“Sure, I’d love that.” Luka smiled. “What’s your favorite thing to watch when you feel crappy?”
Marinette blushed. “You’ll laugh.”
Luka grinned. “So what if I do? If you like it, that’s all that matters. Be selfish tonight, Marinette.” 
Luka followed her to her bedroom, and his eyebrows shot up when she produced a dusty old DVD with a picture of a bus on it. “Speed?” he said, sitting on the bed, and then bit his lip. He held up a finger, turned away from Marinette, and buried his face in her pillow as he laughed. Marinette grabbed her other pillow and whacked him with it. 
“I told you you’d laugh,” she pouted as Luka pushed himself up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love Keanu Reeves.” 
“Give it here, and get comfy,” he told her, getting up. Marinette gave him the movie, and he put it in as she tossed the blanket back to the bottom of the bed and got under the sheet. Then she had an internal panic attack as Luka kicked off his shoes and socks and shimmied off his jeans. Oh, maybe she should have—but he’d never have been comfortable if she made him stay dressed, and it didn’t mean they were going to…Stupid, they could have stayed on the couch, why did she invite him to bed?
Barely thinking, Marinette caught the hem of his shirt just before he went to pull it off. “Can you...leave it on?” she asked, and blushed when he looked at her quizzically. “I really like cuddling with you but I...I just—”
“Just?” Luka asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Marinette sighed, letting go, and feeling like an idiot. “You should be comfortable.
“So should you,” Luka said, sitting back down on the bed. “I can wear a shirt if you want, it’s no big deal.” He reached over and smoothed back her hair—now mostly dry, thankfully. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable.” 
Oh, she was the worst. He was so kind to her and she was the worst , and how could she admit anything like this to him? Marinette hung her head, and told a truth that wasn’t the truth. “I just...don’t like it when our skin sticks together,” she confessed, and then put her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything. I’m being stupid.”
“I’m not forgetting anything,” Luka laughed, sliding under the sheet beside her. “Why are you acting like you did something wrong?” 
“It’s...not very romantic,” Marinette sighed, wrinkling her nose. 
Luka rolled his eyes. “I’d rather you be comfortable than preserve some imaginary aesthetic that no one but us would even be aware of. I don’t mind wearing my shirt or keeping the sheet pulled up if it makes you more comfortable.” He slid down a bit, and stretched his arm out towards her.  Marinette snuggled up next to him again, and sighed contentedly as she rested her cheek against his chest, glad that he wore a soft, slightly worn t-shirt instead of a crisp dress shirt. 
“Comfy now?” he asked, his hand sliding up to massage the back of her neck. 
“Mm,” she agreed, and leaned into his touch with a hum. Eventually they slithered down to lay flat in the bed, Luka curling against her back with his head on her pillow, murmuring sly comments about the movie every now and then that made Marinette giggle, and occasionally reach back to elbow him when she thought he was getting too far out of line. No one, she told him, dissed Keanu in her bed. 
“Yes ma’am,” he agreed, laughing into her hair before he kissed the top of her head. Marinette smiled. 
It was nice, having him snuggled up against her, his teasing voice in her ear, and Marinette’s mood was lifting with each passing moment. She found herself focusing on his broad hand resting on his stomach, his breath tickling the back of her neck, and the warmth of him behind her, the brush of his chest against her back when he breathed. Heat began to pool low in her belly, and her breathing quickened. She pressed back a little, just enough that her back was resting against her chest now, and Luka nuzzled her neck, placing a little kiss below her ear before settling again. Marinette sighed, annoyed with herself. Here she had been worried about giving him the wrong idea, but now that she was comfortable and relaxed, she was starting to change her mind. 
Marinette sniffed experimentally, and found she was breathing much better. She shifted slightly, biting her lip, and then rolled over to face Luka. He blinked at her a little sleepily, and then he smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t revoke my bed privileges. I’m really comfortable right now,” he murmured. “You look like you’re feeling better.” . 
“I am,” she said, and wiggled a little closer, her body already warming at the thought of his touch. She leaned up and kissed him, and any hesitation she’d still been feeling vanished at the soft feel of his mouth against hers. It seemed to wake Luka up too, because his hand went to her face and he returned her kiss with equal enthusiasm. Marinette caught hold of his shirt, and tugged him closer when he would have leaned back. “Can I be selfish, Luka?” she breathed, and felt him shudder as she kissed him again. “Even after all you’ve done for me? Can I ask for more?”
“Always,” he rumbled, rolling up onto his elbow to follow her as she kept tugging on his collar, wiggling to get beneath him. She gasped as he pressed against her, and arched her body up into his, suddenly feeling desperate. Had he been turned on this whole time and said nothing? Alya is so wrong about him. 
“Comfortable , huh?” she teased, and Luka grinned sheepishly.
“I was,” he defended, “Mostly. I can ignore it when I have to, and you didn’t seem like you were up for much.” He kissed her softly.  
“I wasn’t,” she admitted, and then rolled her hips up into him. Luka groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he grabbed at her hip, and her own eyes closed in pleasure. “I am now,” she sighed. “Please, Luka.” She shivered as she felt the fabric of her nightgown bunch under his big hands, the hem sliding up her calves and over her knees. 
Alya was wrong about him, Marinette was sure, looking up into his eyes as he bent down to kiss her gently, but thoroughly. He only broke the kiss when he finally found the hem of the nightgown. “Can I take my shirt off now?” he asked teasingly as he dragged the nightgown up over her head. Marinette made a muffled sound. “What?” he laughed, but his laugh cut off when she pressed her hips up into him again. 
“I said, yes please,” she told him smugly as he reached back for his collar.  
Marinette settled her arms around his neck and pulled him down into her, eager now for the press of his skin against hers. Luka’s hands carded into her hair, tipping her face to the perfect angle as his mouth descended on hers again. She spared one fleeting thought fr Alya’s warnings before she gave herself up to the moment.
Alya is wrong about Luka...but she might be right about me. Maybe I am falling in love with him. 
***
The movie menu screen had been playing for a while when Luka finally picked up the remote and turned the tv off. “I’m going to grab a drink,” Luka said, kissing Marinette’s jaw. “You want something?” 
“Yes, please,” Marinette sighed. “I don’t think I can move yet.” 
Luka chuckled and kissed her again. “Be right back.” 
Grinning to himself, Luka stopped to pull his boxers and jeans on and made his way to the refrigerator, leaning down to find the water bottles he knew were tucked into the back for him. He’d gotten picky about water on the road, so Marinette, thoughtful as always, kept a few bottles of his favorite brand for him. He grabbed one and cracked it open, taking a long gulp, and then bent to reach in and grab the filter pitcher to make a glass for Marinette. 
“Excuse me?”
Luka jumped and straightened, and turned around to find a woman standing in the apartment doorway, lit from the hall behind. She had one hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob, where a set of keys was still hanging. 
“Hey,” he said, shutting the refrigerator door. “You must be Alya. I’m Luka. I’m Marinette’s—ah—” He’d almost said boyfriend, but he wasn’t, technically, and he suddenly realized he had no idea what word to use. “Friend,” he finally finished lamely, acutely aware of how the word hung between them as he stood there half-naked and disheveled. He lifted the water bottle to his lips again, still parched. “Sorry, we didn’t realize you were coming home tonight.” 
He turned to get a glass from the cabinet, and felt Alya’s eyes on him as he poured the water for Marinette and put the pitcher back. He glanced up and, as he suspected, the look she was giving him was not one of appreciation. Luka had seen that look before and knew that she was seeing the dye and the piercings and the tattoos and not much else. He waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t seem inclined to, he shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he said quickly, and then made his way past her and back to Marinette’s room. “I’ll let Marinette know you’re home.” 
He shut Marinette’s bedroom door behind him, blowing out a breath, and then looked at the bed. 
He forgot about Alya for a moment when his eyes fell on Marinette, looking relaxed and blissfully happy, one lovely shoulder and her feet peeking out of the sheet she had tucked around herself. He could still see the marks of her earlier breakdown on her face, but she looked at peace now. 
If he hadn’t already been sure he loved her, he didn’t think anything on earth would have saved him from falling in that moment. 
Luka brought the water over and set it on her nightstand, then leaned over her to set his on the other one. Marinette smiled dreamily up at him, and he bent down and kissed her gently. She smiled against his lips.
“Your mouth is cold,” she told him, and giggled. 
“Yours is hot,” he teased, kissing her again, a little deeper. Then he sighed. “Your, um...your roommate is home,” he told her, half-regretting it as Marinette stiffened instantly. “I kind of ran into her in the kitchen.”
Marinette bit her lip, looking up at him as a blush lit her face. “Oops,” she murmured, and then giggled in a way that said maybe she wasn’t all that sorry. Laughing, Luka all but tackled her, pressing her back into the pillows as he kissed her messily, moving his lips to her neck and collarbone when she tried to squirm away from him. 
“What was that for?” Marinette giggled, pushing lightly at his chest until he propped himself up on his arms. 
“You are criminally hot,” he told her, smirking when the red tinting her cheeks darkened. “Especially when you blush.” Always when she blushed, but especially now, looking so ravished and yet so sweetly pretty, shy and shameless at the same time. 
He leaned down and kissed her again, more gently, and she hummed against him, kissing him twice more when he would have pulled away. 
When she finally let him sit back, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?” 
“No,” she said with determination, slipping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him back down into another kiss. “Come get back in bed with me.” 
Not at all unwilling, Luka shimmied out of his pants and crawled over her, slipping under the sheet and tucking it around his front before laying an arm down in invitation. Marinette shifted over to him, and Luka shivered when she moved the sheet away from between them. Instead of settling her head down on his shoulder, she kissed his chest, and his neck, and pressed herself up against him. “I don’t think you’re as done as you led me to believe,” she whispered with a teasing smile. 
“Well not anymore.” Luka grinned up at her, shifting onto his back in answer to the press of his hands on her shoulders. “Feel like scandalizing your roommate?”
“Believe me, it’s her turn,” Marinette huffed, climbing on top of him, and looking up at her pretty face with smiling lips bruised from his kisses, haloed by mussed black hair he couldn’t wait to tangle his hands in again, Luka promptly forgot anyone else even existed. 
Later, he was nearly asleep, curled around Marinette with the sheet tucked between them, when she whispered, “Luka?”
“Hmm?” he blinked his eyes open, though he couldn’t see much. He felt her tense, though, and moved a hand to her arm, rubbing his thumb along her skin. 
“I think I’m falling for you,” she finally said, the sentence half a sigh as the air rushed out of her. 
Luka froze for an instant, completely awake now, and he felt Marinette flinch and tense. Quickly he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, and slid his arm around her waist. “Let me know when you’re sure,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m waiting at the bottom to catch you.” 
He felt her sigh and relax, and then she rolled, scooting up close against him and pillowing her head on his shoulder. Luka held her, rubbing her back softly, and turned his head to bury his face in the pillow to keep himself from screaming. 
On his way out in the morning, Luka gave Alya a broad grin and a two-fingered salute.
***
“Girls, we have a problem,” Alya announced, plopping into a chair and slamming her to-go cup down on the table.
“Good morning to you too, Alya,” Alix muttered, face propped on her fist. “What the hell is it that you needed to talk to us about this early?”
“I met Marinette’s boytoy last night.”
Blank stares from around the table. Alya sighed. “The one night stand? The guy she’s been fucking every night she had free for the last month and more?” 
Alix raised her eyebrows. “Still not seeing the point. So Marinette’s getting laid. A lot. Good for her. Wasn’t it your idea for her to get back out there in the first place?” 
Alya slapped the table. “That’s just it! She’s not out there! She’s hung up on this dude and my point is that this isn’t like Marinette. You know she can’t just do random hookups. This has been going on for a month straight and you know she’s going to catch feelings, if she hasn’t already. And that guy, he—he’s not Marinette’s type . He’s got tattoos and piercings and dyed hair and his clothes are practically rags!” 
“Sounds hot,” Alix observed, and Alya rolled her eyes. 
“It’s not Marinette , and he’s definitely not the type who’s looking to settle down with one girl. He’s going to fuck her until she starts wanting more and then he’s going to break her heart. If we’re lucky. If we’re not, he’ll string her along with a bunch of promises, probably cheating on her the whole time, and then really break her heart. This isn’t the kind of relationship Marinette wants!” She waved her hands around for emphasis. “Marinette wants a house and a picket fence and a—a hamster. She needs husband material .” 
“It does seem like Marinette wouldn’t be satisfied with a purely physical relationship,” Mylène said hesitantly. “But are you sure this man is no good? What if he does like Marinette?” 
“They could totally fall in love! Opposites attract, you know!” Rose added, hooking her arm through Juleka’s with a giggle. “Maybe all Marinette needs is somebody a little bit different to take her mind off...you know. Him .” 
“Rose, there’s different and then there’s different, ” Alya sighed. “Some different is okay, but picking up punk guys in nightclubs is a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“Mkay,” Alix sighed. “Even supposing we agreed with you, and I’m not saying we do, what would we even do about it?” 
“What we need is a distraction,” Alya said, tapping a finger on the table as her brow furrowed in thought. “Someone who can get her mind off of her fuckbuddy and back to thinking about kids and hamsters.” 
For a moment the girls sat in silence. 
“Well,” Juleka said slowly, as heads turned toward her. “There’s my brother, I suppose. He just got back into town a couple months ago.”
“Oh, that’s true!” Rose exclaimed, laying a finger alongside her cheek as she thought. “Ooh, that could work, Juleka. I mean, if Marinette and this guy are in love, then she’ll just be making a new friend, right? And if Alya’s right, then there’s no harm in just introducing Marinette to someone else.”
Juleka shrugged. “Hard to say with him though, whether he’ll be into Marinette. He’ll either get bored or fall hard. He likes creative types—“
“That’s definitely Marinette,” Alix said dully.
“People who are honest—transparent, even.”
Alix snorted. “Also Marinette.”
Juleka was looking even more thoughtful. “People who don’t back down, who think outside the box...yeah, we could try it.” She shrugged. “Don’t know what Marinette’ll think of him, though.”
“He is very handsome,” Rose pointed out. “Not much like— you know , but that might work in our favor after everything. He looks a little bit like Keanu Reeves, and you know Marinette loves him.” 
Juleka snorted. “He wishes he looked like Keanu Reeves.”
“They have the same vibe,” Rose defended. 
Juleka just shook her head. “Well, if Marinette’s into ink and piercings and the whole bad boy look right now, it shouldn’t be a problem, anyway. Dumbass looks like the rough type but he’s a total teddy bear. Best of both worlds, I guess.” 
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Alya declared, clapping her hands. “Plan A. Juleka and Rose are throwing a housewarming party.”
“We are?” chorused Rose and Juleka.
“We’ll invite Marinette, Juleka’s brother will be there, we get them together, and they hit it off, and she kicks her loser booty call to the curb. Problem solved.” Alya nodded firmly. 
Alix dropped her head onto her arms. “What’s plan B?” she mumbled. “Seems like this whole plan could fall apart if they end up not liking each other.”
Alya waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll figure that out after we see how this one goes. I’ll have thought of something before the party.”  
***
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Marinette said, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she folded her laundry. “I didn’t expect to hear from you today. I thought you had plans tonight.” 
“I do,” Luka replied. “I just have a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” Marinette frowned. “What?”
“Well, I had a very interesting conversation with my sister today,” Luka told her, and she could hear amusement in his voice. “She invited me to a party later this week. Said there’s a friend of hers she’d like me to meet. Thought we might hit it off .”
“O-oh,” Marinette managed, dropping the shirt she held. “Really?” Insecurity flooded up and threatened to drown her. Aside from that one late night conversation, they hadn’t really revisited their relationship status. She hadn’t had the courage to bring it up again. If Luka wanted to meet someone else, he was still technically free to do so, but...but she’d thought...
“Yeah, maybe you know her,” Luka laughed. “She’s in your field, after all. Some hot-shot, up and coming designer named Marinette Dupain-Cheng .” 
“Oh. Oh. ” Marinette’s eyes widened, and then she frowned. “Wait, do I know your sister?”
“Well, that’s what I called to find out.” Luka snorted softly. “Know a Juleka Couffaine by any chance?” 
“Juleka?” Marinette shrieked. “You’re related to—how did I not know that? Why didn’t she ever say anything? Why didn’t you?” She racked her brains, thinking back. 
“Mm, generally we’ve been busy not saying other things. Gotta say Jules hasn’t exactly been on my mind when we’re together.” His low chuckle made Marinette blush. 
“Right.” Marinette blushed. “And I suppose I never mentioned your name to her, and Alya just calls you—” She stopped, embarrassed.
“What?” Luka asked, humor in his voice.
“My, um...boytoy.” Luka laughed uproariously, and Marinette began to giggle again. “Or sometimes things that aren’t quite so nice. She thinks you’re not good for me. Because...because of how we met, and all. Um.” She took a breath, hesitating, but then remembered that awful feeling just moments ago when it seemed like the floor had dropped out from under her, and decided it was time to put everything on the table. “She thinks you’re just in it for the sex, and I’m going to get invested and end up getting hurt.” 
“Oh, I see.” Luka drawled. “As if I haven’t been head over heels for you since the moment I saw you.” Marinette blushed, and bit her lip, but Luka went on before she could say anything. “I get it. Sounds to me like your roommate’s trying to set you up with someone who’ll take care of you. Get you away from that sex-crazed loser that’s seduced her poor little innocent bestie.” 
Marinette buried her face, phone and all, into the throw pillow next to her and giggled until her sides hurt and she was gasping.
“Are you done?” Luka asked, still sounding amused, when the giggling finally subsided. “Or do I need to send someone over there to administer oxygen?” 
“I’m fine,” Marinette snickered. “Listen, Luka, my friends are having a party next week and I’ve got this weird feeling they’re trying to set me up. Will you come be my date to Juleka’s party? Maybe—“ She steeled herself and took the plunge. “Maybe if I introduce them to my boyfriend , they’ll back off.
There was a moment of silence. Marinette forgot to breathe.
“I’m going to need you to say that again when we’re in the same room,” Luka said, voice deliciously deep and husky, “So I can kiss you properly. Can you come over?”
Air rushed out of her. “Aren’t you busy tonight?” she asked, and smiled at the sound of his laugh. 
“Not anymore.” 
“Are you sure?” she teased. “I thought you had plans.” 
“Consider them cancelled,” Luka told her, “Get your gorgeous ass over here.” 
She did, and after she had said it again, after the kissing and the other soft words, after the more-than-kissing, they cuddled close, happy, sated, and basking in their newly upgraded relationship. Marinette felt Luka stir and prop himself on his elbow.
“You know,” he said, his breath washing across her cheek. “I’m thinking about this party the girls are planning.”
“Do you still want to go?” Marinette asked, reaching up 
“Absolutely,” he said, and then his voice dropped, making her shiver slightly as he nuzzled her ear. “But why don’t we make things a little interesting.”  He whispered his plan in Marinette’s ear, and she began to giggle. 
***
Juleka sighed as she looked at their new apartment, cleaned and decorated without a scrap of cardboard left in the place, and gazed with exasperated fondness on all the little finger sandwiches and appetizers Rose had spent all day making. Luka had better appreciate this, she thought, as she pasted on a smile and started letting in the guests that began to arrive in ones and twos. Well, at least Rose was happy. Any excuse to bust out the glitter and craft paper and try out all these super cute recipes she found on Pinterest.
Juleka was genuinely happy to see Luka, though, when he finally knocked on the door. Her schedule had been packed lately, which was great from a career standpoint, but she hadn’t seen as much of him as she wanted to since he’d come back from his travels. She felt a little guilty that it had taken Alya’s plotting to get her to make room on her schedule to see him. 
Well, hopefully she was about to make up for it.
“Hey, Jules,” he said, kissing her cheek and then Rose’s. “Congratulations on the new place.” 
“Thanks,” Juleka half-smiled, all the admission she was willing to make that she was glad to see him. She was pleased to note that he’d listened to her admonishments and dressed up. He looked nice, in a black dress shirt open at the collar and jeans that were mostly intact. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his arms, and the dye in his hair was bright and fresh. Good. Maybe he had half a shot with Marinette, if he didn’t open up his big mouth and screw it up. 
“We’re so glad you could make it, Luka!” Rose squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. Then she drew back with a dismayed expression. “Oh, but she’s not here yet.”
Luka shrugged. “That’s okay, I’m in no hurry. I meant to tell you, I’ve...actually been seeing someone, to be honest.” He had the grace to look sheepish, and winced at the way Juleka’s eyes widened.
“What?” she asked sharply, and then smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Luka shrugged, and Juleka’s heart sank at the stupid grin that spread over his face. “We weren’t really official until just a few days ago. After we talked about this. I don’t think I’ve put my guitar down since then except to pee, so…I kinda forgot.” 
“Gross,” Juleka muttered out of habit. 
“Oh,” cooed Rose, clasping her hands together, before grabbing Juleka’s arm and shaking her lightly. “Ohhh, he looks so happy!”
“I am happy,” Luka grinned. “Really, really happy. She’s amazing, I’ve never met anyone like her. It’s maybe too soon to say it, but...this could be it, you know?”
Juleka felt a little sick. She hadn’t realized she was so invested in setting up Luka and Marinette, but the crushing disappointment she now felt said she was. She liked Marinette a lot, and she loved Luka more than almost anyone else in the world, and the more she considered the idea of them together, the more she thought it could work. Even though she had told herself (and Rose) not to get her hopes up, she absolutely had. 
But Luka was practically glowing, so Juleka swallowed the sick feeling and told him she was happy for him. And she was, really. She had to be happy about anything that made him smile like that. As much as she would have liked to have Marinette for a sister, she wanted Luka’s happiness over all. 
She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Alya, though. Focus. Luka was looking at her with a little hopeful half-smile on his face and Rose would kill her if she crushed his enthusiasm.
“Well, when you’re sure we won’t scare her off, bring her to dinner.” Juleka punched his arm lightly. “I have to meet the lunatic who would date you.” 
“Sure, sounds good. So, is there a tour?” Luka asked with a grin, and Rose bounced on her toes before grabbing onto his arm and tugging him further into the apartment. She gave Juleka one commiserating glance behind his back before she began introducing him to the small gathering of friends in their modest living room. 
Juleka sighed and stationed herself back by the door to head off Alya when she came in and warn her. 
The next person to show up, though, was Marinette, which was a bit surprising. She was supposed to be coming with Alya, and she wasn’t nearly as late as she usually was. Juleka felt like pouting as she looked over Marinette. She was dressed up too, in a chocolate brown dress that hugged her figure nicely to the waist, covered with a sheer lace overlay that ran up over her neck and shoulders. The skirt hung to her knees in sheer layers edged in scallops of pink lace that were piled thick enough to cover everything important, but thin enough to tease. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, and she was smiling so cheerfully, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. She’d have been the perfect bait if the trap hadn’t already been sprung. Dammit, Luka , Juleka thought grumpily. You’re missing out, dumbass . 
“I brought cookies!” Marinette said breathlessly, holding up a cellophane-wrapped platter. “You can keep the plate, I got it for you.” 
Juleka mumbled her thanks, smiling at the combination of cookies shaped like roses and black bats on a platter that matched their new dishes. “Thanks, Marinette. That’s really thoughtful.”
“Of course,” Marinette grinned, bobbing on her toes a little. “I’m so excited for you guys!”
She looked so genuinely excited that Juleka had to smile. “Most everybody is here already,” Juleka told her, waving her on into the apartment. “Rose is in the back showing some people around, but she’ll be back up in a minute. Wine?” 
“Please,” Marinette said gratefully, and Juleka poured her a glass. “You did a great job of blending your styles, it looks so pretty in here, but, you know. Juleka pretty and not just Rose pretty. I really like what you did with the curtains—” 
Juleka let her ramble on, glancing at the clock now and again. Alya and Alix were due any minute and she had to head Alya off before she did anything...pushy. Luka didn’t like pushy. Marinette drifted into the living room to chat with some other friends—and damn, the front of that dress might be all sweetness and light but the back was really sexy. “Damn it, Luka,” Juleka muttered with a frustrated sigh. “This girl better be fucking incredible.”  
Luka was just following Rose back from the spare bedroom the girls were turning into a combination craft/music room, when he caught sight of Marinette chatting with a few other people in the living room.
Rose saw her almost at the same time, and gave a little squeal. “Marinette, you made it!” 
Marinette came to hug her, and Luka waited while they exchanged pleasantries, trying to keep his cool so he didn’t give anything away. Finally Rose remembered he was there and turned to him, tugging Marinette forward a little. 
“Oh, Marinette, this is Juleka’s brother Luka!” Rose chirped. “Luka, this is Marinette, the friend we were telling you about.” 
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Just long enough to give Rose pause. Then...
“Hi,” Luka said, grinning down at her. 
“Hi,” Marinette murmured, smiling up at him. 
 “You look good enough to eat,” he told her, settling a hand on her hip and tugging her closer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rose’s eyes widen and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
“Is that a promise?” Marinette winked, and the tremble in her voice said she was about to laugh too. 
He bent down and she pushed up and they met in a passionate kiss. Her arms went around his neck (she remembered just in time not to dump her wine down his back) and his hands found her back—which was mostly bare, he realized as he felt warm skin under his hands. The noise he made wasn’t very dignified but it would only add to the show; he slid his hands down her back and onto her ass. Just to really sell it, naturally. No doubt she was kneading his chest and shoulders for the same reason. 
Damn, she even tasted like chocolate, the little minx. He’d be willing to bet she did that on purpose.
Beside them, Rose practically had to stuff both fists in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She looked around and grabbed Mylène’s arm, shaking her as Rose hopped up and down. 
“Rose, what is—oooohhh,” Mylène’s eyes went round as Rose spun her around to face the kissing couple. Rose leaned down and began to hiss excitedly into her ear. “Wait, slow down— what? ” Mylène slapped her own hands over her mouth and looked at Rose. 
“ I know!!” Rose whisper-squealed, reaching up to tug at her short hair with both hands. Both of them looked towards the door, where they could see Juleka letting in Alya and Alix.
“Marinette gave us the slip,” Alya said, rolling her eyes. “Something about needing to pick up a card or some nonsense. She’s looking good, though, which is a good thing for us, right? She’s got this cute little brown dress with pink and she looks like a chocolate strawberry macaroon.” 
“Wait till you see the back,” Alix grinned. “Just these two lace panels that meet between her shoulderblades and the rest is bare. Seriously hot. I’m totally begging her to make...” She trailed off as she looked at Juleka’s face. Juleka sighed.   
“Listen, Alya, I need to tell you—” Juleka began, but Alya interrupted her, her face scrunching up as she looked at something over Juleka’s shoulder.  
“Oh you’re kidding me, I can’t believe she brought him. What is she thinking?” Alya demanded, grabbing Juleka’s arm. “How could you let him in?” Juleka raised her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Alix had leaned around them to see what Alya was looking at.
“What now?” Alix grumbled. 
“Marinette brought her boytoy,” Alya spat, frustrated. “I can’t believe her.” Juleka nearly laughed at the irony until connections started snapping together in her head. With a feeling of dawning horror, she paused and turned slowly to look behind her, just in time to see her brother sticking his tongue down her friend’s throat. I’ll kill him , she thought. “No wonder she didn’t give me any pushback when I suggested she dress up a little,” Alya muttered, but Juleka barely heard her. 
“Nice,” Alix said, still leaning around Juleka to see, eyebrows raising in appreciation. Then she frowned. “Hold on, isn’t that—” 
At the same time, Juleka blurted “Wait,” and Alix broke off as both she and Alya turned to look at Juleka, who had gone pale. “ That ’ s the guy Marinette went home with? The guy she’s been banging every chance she got since—”  A look of horror crossed her face. “That’s who she’s been telling us—oh, gross. ” She put a hand over her mouth, sure she was about to vomit. “Oh my God, I don’t know what I did to deserve this but I deeply regret whatever it was.” 
“Never mind all that, we have to find a way to get him out of here before your brother shows up,” Alya hissed. 
Juleka groaned and put her face in her hands. 
Alix began to laugh. “I do feel sorry for you,” she told Juleka. “I really do. I definitely wouldn’t want to know any of that about my brother.” She paused, and made a face, turning slightly green. “Oh God, did not need that mental image, and mine’s not even real.” 
“I’m gonna hurl,” Juleka mumbled. “I can’t believe I have to live with this knowledge.”
Across the room, Marinette broke their kiss long enough to ask, breathlessly, “Think they got the point?” Luka glanced up and began to laugh into her hair as she nibbled his collarbone. 
“Juleka’s face is priceless right now.” He dropped his head and licked her neck, before moving his face up to whisper in her ear. “If we don’t get out of here right now I’m going to bust a gut and ruin everything.” 
“Then by all means, let’s go,” she giggled. “Tell me the next time they look over.” 
Luka glanced up. “Now.” 
Marinette slipped her hand between his legs and squeezed, making him jump with a “whoa.” 
“Sorry. Too much?” Marinette whispered. 
“Not if we’re leaving right now,” he grinned back, and let Marinette take his hand, giving him her best bedroom eyes as she backed towards the door, tugging him along. He didn’t even have to feign the dopey look on his face as he stared back at her. As they passed the knot of her friends, all staring saucer-eyed at them, she waved at them.
“Thanks for inviting me, Juleka! Sorry I have to bow out early, but um...I have something to take care of,” Marinette giggled, handing her wine glass to Alix as she kept towing Luka towards the door. He smirked at Juleka and winked.
“I’ll text you about dinner,” he called over his shoulder, laughing, and then grabbed Marinette’s ass just before they stepped out of the door.
“Holy fuck,” Alix muttered, still gaping at the door. “Was that really Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She began to laugh. “I am so fucking proud.” 
“This isn’t funny!” Alya hissed. “This is a disaster!” 
“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Alix gasped, barely able to breathe, and Rose and Mylène nodded, both giggling. Rose squealed, bouncing on her toes. 
“This is amazing, I can’t believe it, it’s like fate or something—”
“I’m not sure that’s how fate works.” Mylène was trying to hold in her laughter for Alya’s sake. “But they certainly seem happy together.” 
Juleka, still looking a little green, put her hand on Alya’s shoulder before Alya could retort. “Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about her. Luka’s the only person on the planet who’s a bigger sap than Marinette. If he’s into her, he’s all in.” Remembering the way Luka had been glowing when he’d talked about his new girl—when he talked about Marinette —she managed a tiny smile despite her nausea. If Luka got his way maybe she’d have Marinette for a sister-in-law after all. 
It was wiped away a second later as Alix guffawed, “Oh, she loves him being all in,” and Juleka groaned. 
“I need alcohol now ,” she grumbled. “I am going to give him so much shit in the wedding speech to make up for this.”
***
Outside, Luka and Marinette got to the elevators, and then collapsed against the wall in a brief fit of giggles.
“That was brilliant,” Marinette laughed, squeezing Luka’s arm. “I’m so embarrassed but it was so worth it, did you see Alya’s face?” 
“Juleka’s gonna kill me,” Luka chortled. “I can’t wait. Come here.” He pulled her close and kissed her, softer and more carefully than he had inside, and Marinette hummed with pleasure. Not that she hadn’t been enjoying their sloppy makeout, but this was more Luka’s style, and since she loved Luka, she—Marinette paused, and pulled back to look at him, biting her lip as he blinked and smiled softly at whatever he saw in her face. Marinette took a breath.
“I love you,” she said, keeping her eyes on his, though her pulse hammered in her veins. She hadn’t thought his eyes could get any softer, but he looked at her as if she was the greatest treasure in the world as he cupped her cheek and laid a soft kiss on her lips.  
“I love you too,” he said roughly, and gathered her up in his arms, squeezing her tight, lifting her off her feet as he squeezed her hard. 
Marinette giggled into his shoulder. “Poor Alya,” she muttered. “So wrong and so right at the same time.” She pulled back and kissed him again. “Take me home, before someone catches us making out in the hallway.” 
“Too late, dudes.” 
They both looked up, and Marinette’s mouth fell open as she saw Nino stepping out of the elevator with a pained expression. “Does the phrase get a room mean anything to you guys?” 
“Oh,” Marinette ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry, Nino. By the way, this is Luka. He’s...Juleka’s brother?” 
Nino blinked, and then groaned. “Oh, shit.” 
Marinette giggled. “We’re um...we’re leaving now. Uh...Alya might be a teensie bit—” She held up her pinched fingers. “...stressed?” 
Nino rolled his eyes, but reached back to catch the elevator door for them before it closed. “Guess I’m on damage control,” he sighed, but with a grin. “Come on, get out of here.”  Needing no further encouragement, Marinette pulled Luka into the elevator. “Bring him to dinner or something next time,” Nino called as he let the door close. “We can’t keep meeting like this.” 
In the elevator, Luka and Marinette looked at each other. “Oops,” she whispered, and they both broke down laughing. Luka hugged her close, and Marinette sighed. “You know,” she mused. “As far as mistakes go…” She smiled up at him. “You’re the best one I ever made.” 
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the-shiftshop · 3 years
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One Touch - Part 1
Inspired by @dark-limbo​​. Might want to check this blog out!
DISCLAIMER: This story might not focus on character development and plot. The story you’re about to read will solely focus on having fun with writing erotic stories. Nevertheless, this story will be filled with foreplay, intimacy and sex, a lot of sex. If straight forward stories are not your thing, I apologize, but otherwise you want to enjoy reading intimate scenes, then welcome and hop on.
This story, One Touch, will also be interactive in a way where the most votes in the poll below will be followed in the next chapter. Enjoy
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All I need is one touch. Just one touch to take control of anyone I want. Just one touch to make them do what I ask them to. I’ve been training with this new found power for over a year now, thanks to that Guide to Hypnosis book that I’ve bought for a very good price.
I’ve been hypnotizing my way throughout my sophomore year. My freshman year had not been that great and through making people do what I want, I’ve been getting great scores that made me catch up with my grades. Just one touch, I make my professors alter my grade, or make my homework, or make them think that they’ve been taking care of me and it’s their job to make sure I do great in school. I’ve been getting free coffee in the university café since the start of my sophomore year. Just one touch to make the manager think I’m their special costumer.
So far I have almost done everything that I have always wanted with hypnosis, except one that I have been craving since I’ve learned about hypnosis. No, it’s not about getting famous. It’s not about robbing a bank and getting away with it with hypnosis. It’s not about getting revenge on people who did me wrong.
It’s intimacy.
I may have touched other people’s hands, arms or shoulders, but even my own body is touch deprived. I’ve been wanting someone to touch me, grope me, kiss me, make them do whatever I ask them to. Now with this power, I can finally make anyone have intense intimacy with me. I’ve trained for over a year for this. I can’t let every attempt fail and make them weirded out, or let people know I can hypnotize anyone I want.
So far, I’ve tried this once with my roommate, Robert.
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It was our finals in sophomore. Robert is sitting on his bed, studying for our exams. Looking somewhat stressed, groaning while flipping through the pages of the print-outs which he borrowed from me, and then scrolling through his laptop. I should have been studying as well, but there was something I’ve been focusing on other than studying. Still nervous if this will work, my heart beating fast.
To be honest, I’m not really that attracted to Robert. I find him cute, muscular and all, but I have never considered having sex with him, but so far he’s the only one available right now.
“I’m tired!” Robert complained and dropped my print-outs on the floor. This gave me an opportunity not to miss. I quickly grabbed my print-outs from the floor.
“Dude. Told you to take care of my stuff.” I said, standing up.
“Sorry, man. I’m just super stressed with this one. I give up.” He said, lying down.
I handed out my print-outs to him which at first, he ignored. “Robert, just grab this already.”
“Nah! Let me sleep.” He replied.
Not losing hope, I placed a hand on his arm. Just touching his arm made a significant change, which is always a hint that he’s already in trance. As soon as I touched his skin, he took a deep breathe and his breathing went slower, introducing him to a much relaxed state. I grinned, thinking the first step worked.
“Sit back up.” I said, he followed.
“Why not, let me give you a massage on my bed? Stand up and go to my bed, then lie on your chest.”
“Sure. I think I need a massage.” He replied in his usual tone
This is common with people I control. They’ll just follow whatever I ask them as if they have their free will. They still act like themselves, talk and reply in affirmation to whatever I ask them to do.
Robert grabbed his phone and dove to my bed.
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He started scrolling through his phone and then stopped for a while to look at me.
“What’chu waiting for?” He asked, smiling at me, excited for his massage.
I moved near beside his hip, my left leg above the bed in a position where I can give him a massage with me beside him. I started massaging his back. That was the time I have been that close to Robert. I have never touched any part of his body, heck even a pat on the back, or a man hug. I have shook his hand when we first men in freshmen year, but that was when I don’t know about hypnosis yet.
“Feeling good already?” I asked him. I knew I have not been properly massaging him, but with just this question, he groaned in pleasure.
“Yeah, man. That feels great.”
I couldn’t wait that long anymore. I moved my hands on his exposed skin once more and he look another deep breath.
“Kiss me.” Just a simple command.
He sat back up and without wasting any second, he pulled me by my head and placed his lips on mine. He was not doing anything else but a smack. I nervously moved a hand to his crotch. He was not hard at all. That was just a smack. I pulled away and he was just staring at me, not saying anything. I moved my hand to his perk nipples and teased them through his shirt.
“How does this feel?” I asked.
“Nothing at all.” He replied.
“Then it’ll start feeling great every second.” I stared in his eyes.
He started to blush. With a pinch, he adjusted himself on my bed, then gave a very soft moan. I placed another hand on his other nipple which drove him moaning hard.
“How does this feel?”
“It feels weird, man, but... They’ve never been this sensitive before...” He ended with another moan. I can see his cock finally bulging through his shorts.
“Let me touch you down there.” I said.
“Anything you want.” He agreed so I moved my right hand to his hard on.
“Horny?”
“So much. You’re so good...” Again, he ended with a moan.
“Why not play with mine too?” I removed my hand from his nipples but kept the other hand on his cock just to give his arms space to touch me too.
“Sure thing...” He was looking away from me but his hand went to my own hard on. “You’re hard too... Damn you’re big.”
“You wanna see?”
“Yeah.”
This time, my heartbeats got so fast that I may faint in no time. I relaxed myself for a while first, but his hand touching my cock is just droving me to a much aroused state.
“Let me see yours too.” I said.
He immediately pulled his cock out his shorts. He grabbed my hand and guided it to his shaft which again made him moan hard. His other hand pulled on my shorts to make my cock peek out.
“This might be too much to ask but...” He trailed off, I stared at him as he look away. He’s obviously super shy right now too. His cheeks are burning red. Still, he brought himself to his own courage. “Can you stroke me more?” He asked.
“If you’ll let me sit above you, I’ll stroke you more.”
He nodded and let his head fall back as I stroke him more. I moved closer to him, sat on his lap as I stroke him with one hand. My other hand pulled his face closer to mine. I stared him in the eye, but he tries to look away in embarrassment.
“No need to be embarrassed here. You’ve been confused about your sexuality ever since you’ve met me. I’m just trying to help you find the true you.”
“The true me...” His face blanked out for a bit as his memories adjust, with his moans still being consistent, then he came back to his senses once more.
“Look at me in the eye.” I commanded, he followed. “Look at my lips. Look at my body.” I followed. “There’s no need to be shy around me. You should even be thankful that I’m helping you release stress.”
“I am... very thankful...” He said in between moans. “Fuck, this feels so good.” He exclaimed, switching his focus from my eyes, lips and my body. “I’m gonna cum... Do it faster.”
“Touch my body.” I said, his hands move into my shirt.
I stroke him harder. Feeling his muscle tense a lot, seeing his views bulge against his skin. Before he release, I gave him one last command.
“You’ve been keeping that in for weeks now. That’s gonna be a huge load.”
“Y-Yeah! Yeah, it will! Oh fuck!” He screamed as he finally blew his load all over our clothes. I watched as a torrent of cum blow all over his chest, face and hair. Some even went into his mouth. After a few seconds, he stopped. Panting, he stared at me. He looks so cute and erotic at the same time. I wanted my release too.
“Come here.” I pulled him close and kiss him deep. He followed suit and let out tongues intertwine. His arms hugging me, our clothes and body sticky with cum. We continued as I grind my own cock against him. It didn’t take long as I was already near my limit just by looking at Robert like this, I came too.
After all of that, I asked him to join me in the shower. I let him clean me, touch my body, then I cleaned him back. In the end, we got dressed and went back to our own businesses.
“Hey.” Robert called. “Thanks for the massage.”
I chuckled. “You’ll be coming back for more after this finals.”
“I will be” He agreed.
And that was the first time I had sex with anymore. Although, there wasn’t any penetration, I’ve been satisfied. Thanks to just one touch.
Finals had ended. Robert and I went separate ways for a while and went to our own families. It will take us 2 or 3 months until we meet again, but that’s not really disappointing.
I’m planning to enjoy the break with any men that I see, take control over them, dominate them or get dominated by them. Make then my own puppets while they think they’re doing everything in their own accord.
Thanks to that first time, I now feel confident, I think I can finally try getting any men naked.
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Bite to Break Skin {Katsuki Bakugo}
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A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Welcome to my first time writing for A/B/O dynamics, one of my absolute favorite things in fanfic. There’s so much potential and I’m definitely interested in exploring it with other characters! Just a small heads up, this one is pretty dialogue heavy throughout.
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“C’mon,” he said as his breathing finally slowed, “we gotta get up.”
The fingers combing through his damp hair paused. “Can I wear your shirt?”
“You’ve been wearin’ ‘em for years, ain’t gonna stop you now, idiot,” he huffed as he peeled himself away from her, their skin tacky with sweat. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t be shitty to me, Katsuki, I have your virginity!”
“And I have yours. Even exchange. No reason to stop teasing you,” he grunted. Pulling her to her feet he guided her towards his bathroom with a hand on her lower back.
They cleaned up in easy silence, each of them still feeling the content fuzziness in their minds that now seemed amplified and even better than usual. At different points they briefly wondered if that was normal after losing their virginities.
Probably, they decided. For them it was a natural progression in their over two-year relationship. Having gotten together just after the provisional license exam in their first year their hero course schedules only got busier and they got less time to spend together between classes and training and work studies and internships. But those moments were coveted and left plenty of time for them to take their relationship at the perfect pace for them.
Two years of wandering hands and mouths had culminated that afternoon while the majority of the class had gone to the shopping district and neither of them could regret a single thing about it.
“Katsuki?”
She felt warmth bloom in her chest as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded and expression relaxed. “Yeah?”
“I love you,” she smiled, fingers absently twisting the hem of his shirt that she wore.
“’Course you do,” he smirked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and returned them to his bed, the grey sheets rumpled. He bunched them down to the end of the mattress and laid down, pulling her to lie next to him curled into his side.
He was always so warm and she loved it, now especially as the chill of January lingered in the dorm hallways and throughout their rooms. Being close to him as they laid together was one of her favorite things about their relationship. As much as he seemed like a loner in their first weeks at UA she never believed it was true and once they were together behind closed doors he was happy as long as they had some sort of contact with each other. She’d never been prouder of being right than that day.
His attentiveness was something she knew would likely contribute heavily to his secondary gender when he presented in the future. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be an alpha, and an amazing one at that. His protective streak and pride in his own abilities couldn’t be attributed to any other presentation. While she herself was unsure of what she would present as, he had always promised that it didn’t matter.
“Alphas want omegas but I want you, and that means I get you no matter what we are,” he’d grumbled one evening not that long ago when she revealed her fears of presenting as a beta and not being what his alpha would need. “Secondary gender can go fuck itself if it thinks I’d leave you over some random omega. Shit, you don’t even know if I’d be an alpha anyway, dumbass.”
If she hadn’t been sure about him before, that conversation had cemented it in her mind and in her heart. Katsuki Bakugo was the one for her and it sent her heart into a tailspin to know that he felt the same way.
She pressed herself closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body and of her thoughts.
“You’re warm,” he mumbled against her forehead.
“So’re you.”
“Nah, your skin’s pink like you took one of your showers from hell.”
She huffed out a laugh. “’M fine, Katsuki. It’s ‘cause you’re warm and I’m still kinda hot from before.”
“You’re always hot,” he said with a pinch to the seat of her underwear.
“Just cuddle me, you ass.”
His arms tightened around her and they laid together in comfortable silence. At one point she started to doze against the warmth of Katsuki’s chest, one hand on his hip at the waistband of his sweats. She’d never felt safer.
In the middle of her dreamless nap she awoke to a persistent poking to her nose. When she opened her eyes, her boyfriend’s furrowed brow came into focus as she blinked. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.
“You’ve got a fever.”
She wanted to protest but the trails of sweat she could feel having trickled down her back was unmistakable. She definitely felt warm but she wasn’t disoriented or feeling sick.
“It’s like a full body fever,” Katsuki muttered, dropping his hand from her forehead.
“I feel really hot, but I don’t feel sick,” she told him, sleep leaving her as confusion took over.
He fisted the collar of the shirt she wore at the base of her neck, squeezing for just a moment before pulling back a glistening hand.
“Shirt’s soaked with sweat, take it off and I’ll get you one of my tanks,” he said, rolling out of bed and walking over to his drawers.
She peeled the sticky fabric from her skin, the feeling more uncomfortable than the fact that she was sitting topless once it was off. Nothing Katsuki hadn’t seen plenty of times after all.
A black tank top hit her chest before falling to her lap and she picked it up immediately, pressing her nose into the bundle. It’d barely been a minute since he left her side but she needed the comfort. Which is why when all she smelled was the scent of detergent her nose wrinkled.
“It doesn’t smell like you,” she complained, and he laughed from where he was straightening the other tank tops in his drawer.
“It’s clean, dumbass, I haven’t worn it yet. I’ll be next to you again in like two seconds anyway.”
“Hurry up,” she whined, slipping the tank top over her head and surprising him with her needy tone. “I haven’t smelled roasting chestnuts in almost two minutes, this is cruel. I even miss the little bit of sugar.”
He turned to her with furrowed brows. “I smell like that right now?”
“You smell like that all the time, ever since I’ve known you. What, you don’t know what your own cologne smells like anymore? You gone nose blind?”
He shook his head slowly. “My cologne is sandalwood. Always has been. The sugar I’ll give you because of my quirk but your perfume has nothing on that with your sweet cherries’n shit.”
Now it was her turn to be confused. “That’s not my perfume, Katsuki. My perfume is the same floral one I’ve worn since middle school, it’s not fruity or sweet at all. Come here, do I smell like that now?”
He crossed back over to the bed and sat in front of her, gently tugging her forward to press his nose into her hair. Her face tucked under his chin and she breathed in the same familiar scent.
“Sugared cherries just like always,” he muttered. “Do I…?”
“Mhm, roasted chestnuts with a pinch of sugar,” she replied almost dreamily. It was stronger than usual, but maybe that’s because she was concentrating on it. It felt like it was surrounding her and through her and it made her skin burn hotter. It was good. So so good, and she wanted and she needed more.
She pressed herself closer to him, his confused grunt falling on deaf ears until he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her from himself to look at her. He’d felt her skin grow warmer against his bare chest, the heat startling. But when he looked at her panic shot through him as she doubled over with a whimper.
He called her name but she didn’t answer, just clutched her stomach harder while curling further into herself and whining low in her throat.
“Alright, hey, hey, listen, okay? I’m calling Aizawa, he’ll help us figure out what’s wrong,” he tried to soothe, pulling her back into his chest. Her skin burned against his but he needed her to know he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere when she wasn’t alright.
It was awkward trying to reach his phone on the bedside table with her curled against him but he was hellbent on making her feel better and if that meant practically popping his shoulder out of its socket with the stretch so fucking be it.
“What’s wrong, Bakugo?” was the greeting he got and he immediately started listing off what was happening as she continued to tremble in his lap.
“She’s burning up to the point I feel like I’m touching an oven and she—”
“Todoroki’s still in the dorms, call him up and have—”
“NO!” he snarled into the phone. “He doesn’t need to be near her, just tell me how I can help her! She’s in fucking pain and nearly incoherent right now! You’re not fucking helping me!”
Aizawa was silent for a long moment. “Bakugo, where are you two?”
“We’re in my dorm and I’d appreciate if you could save the damn lecture for when she’s actually conscious enough to fuckin’ hear it too.”
“How long has she been like this? What was she doing when she started feeling the fever? Is there anything that’s—”
“For fuck’s sake, I don’t know! An hour or so and we were just here, she was asleep while I scrolled through my phone.”
Aizawa’s tone went knowing as he prompted, “And before that?”
He weighed his options for answering. They were already in shit for her being on the boys’ side of the dorms, how much worse could it be? They were consenting adults and they were responsible about it and if it did help figure out why she was—
“That’s what I thought,” Aizawa sighed before he could decide how to answer. “I can’t be there to help but I’m sending Recovery Girl. Try and keep her comfortable until she arrives.”
When the line went dead, he could only mumble out curses as he dropped his phone and kept her pressed against him. Her little noises of pain had lessened and she didn’t feel as tightly coiled in his arms as she had, but he was still worried. At least the old lady might actually be able to do something.
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“Well I must hand it to Aizawa,” Recovery Girl chuckled as she pulled the thermometer from her lips, “the man does know his students.”
“The hell are you laughing for?” Bakugo hissed. He had been pacing back and forth while she examined her, hovering close and getting more frustrated by the moment. Sure, his girlfriend didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment but he wanted whatever caused it to be taken care of now.
“Don’t take that tone with me, boy, you may be an alpha but I won’t be disrespected.”
He did a double take, sputtering, “An alpha? I’m eighteen, I haven’t presented!”
She smiled in amusement. “Not fully, no, but you’re both presenting as we speak. Fated mates can present at an earlier age when establish an intimate connection prior to turning twenty. It likely hit her first being an omega and that pulled you over too. I must say I’m a bit surprised as fated mates are quite rare at your age, though maybe even more so that this took so long. It’s admirable of you children to take things slow but when I was your age—”
“We’re fated mates?” she murmured, breaking the older woman’s rambling. “So we…?”
“Quite a spin on the high school sweetheart’s trope wouldn’t you say? Certainly a story for the pups.”
“Wait, so she’s burning up because…” he trailed off as his cheeks flushed pink. “This is…”
“Yes, yes, this is her heat beginning and your rut will follow, keep up boy. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail on that—”
“NO!” they shouted together, mortified.
She laughed, high pitched and maniacal. “Oh alright, I’ve had my fun. You children are so easy to poke at these days. But I do suppose we need to get you prepared for the next week or so. Dear, make a list of things you’ll need from your room and Bakugo will go fetch them for you.”
“I can’t just go myself?”
“Look at that boy’s face and tell me he’s alright with you leaving his den.”
Of course when she looked to him Katsuki’s face was contorted into an angry grimace, his lips twitching back to bare his teeth.
“Just tell me what you need,” he ground out, and she quickly rattled off everything she could think of that she may possibly need. Without a word he disappeared through the door, a lingering touch to her hand a silent promise to return quickly so as to soothe any worries of abandonment or actions that could be interpreted as rejection by her inner omega.
Recovery Girl turned the chair towards her and grabbed her bag from the floor. “We have a few things to discuss now, dear.”
She went over the arrangements made by Aizawa for their classes and schoolwork as well as daily drop offs of prepared bento boxes for them since they wouldn’t be leaving Bakugo’s room. Their parents had been contacted which sent a fresh wave of nausea through her for reasons other than the heat, but she was assured that it wasn’t as a punishment since they were both eighteen. Still, she could only image the conversation she would hear at the end of her heat when she heard from home.
Expectations of what would happen during the shared heat and rut were next and she while she was sure her face couldn’t get any hotter, she was proven wrong. As awkward as it was though, at least she was talking it over with another woman; having the same conversation with Aizawa would have killed her.
Finally, it seemed that the verbal torture was finished as Recovery Girl reached into her medical bag with one hand and beckoned her closer with the other.
“Let me see your arm, I need to give you a preventative injection.”
“Ah, I uhm,” she stuttered, cheeks still reddened but not from the heat, “I’m already taking…”
Recovery Girl shook her head with a chuckle. “Presenting alters your existing biology by releasing additional hormones which awaken parts of your mind and body that contribute to the primal instincts of your secondary gender. Generic contraceptive methods would be fine for a newly presented beta but as an omega the hormones released at presentation boost your fertility to a point where the pill may as well be candy for all the prevention it does.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now unless you and that boy of yours have decided that you want pups within the year I need to give you this.” The syringe was brandished in front of her.
She held out her arm and she cleaned the area with a swab before feeling the familiar prick to her skin and the cold chill spread into her heated blood.
“Any last questions for me before he gets back?”
She went to shake her head but paused. “Just… what about our quirks?”
“Nothing to worry about, dear. Quirks take a backseat during these times unless a threat arises. Once bonded you will kill and die for the other and your pups, but for right now you two shouldn’t have an issue. I’d say ‘won’t’ but I think we both know your class has a habit of finding trouble, hm?”
“More like trouble finds us,” came a grunt from the doorway.
Katsuki reentered the room with her laundry basket on his hip and a tote bag over his shoulder. He visibly relaxed as he crossed the threshold and set her things on the floor at the foot of his bed.
She sat down on the plush area rug to go through what he’d brought, her legs tucked beneath her as Recovery Girl began speaking to him about the upcoming week like she’d done for her.
Rifling through the laundry basket she pulled out her pillows and blankets as well as her favorite hoodies, then she pulled everything out of the tote and put those sweaters and shirts onto Katsuki’s bed. Once everything was piled atop his sheets she began to sort through everything, enjoying the familiar smell of her own things mixing with the scent of Katsuki’s den. She hoped he would scent a few of his shirts and let her use his pillows and blankets for her nest.
“…and once you know the heat and rut have passed I’d like you to give me a call so I can come and assess you two.”
“Whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, his cheeks burning from the conversation as he took the offered slip of paper with her number. He’d never been more relieved to have a conversation end, and as soon as the door closed behind the terrible old bat he turned back to his girlfriend and his heart nearly stopped.
She was absently arranging his sheets with some of what he’d brought from her dorm to make the beginnings of her nest. Their combined scents filled his room to an almost dizzying potency but he had never felt more alive, more proud, and his inner alpha growled happily in his chest. Here was his mate, his omega, building a sweet-smelling nest in his den for the two of them and their pups.
The thought of pups broke through the haze of his instincts to allow nerves to set it. They were only eighteen and just about to finish their last few months at UA before becoming fully licensed heroes. Having pups wasn’t something they could do, at least… at least not now.
Recovery Girl had mentioned the preventative and rationally he knew that she wouldn’t give them something designed to fail and he was grateful for that but at the same time, he’d love to have pups with his mate. She was everything he could ever imagine wanting in a partner and he knew his mate would be the best mother to his pups. He’d thought so long before they presented and he was sure he’d think it until he took his last breath.
Her soft voice brought him out of his musings as she looked up at him through her lashes and shyly asked, “Could you… scent a few of your shirts and sweaters? For the nest?”
“’Course,” he replied, and seeing her eyes flicker towards his discarded pillows added, “You can use anything of mine. We’re mates.”
The heat-induced flush on her cheeks darkened slightly with embarrassment, but she nudged his pillow towards him anyway. He grabbed it and held it in his hands feeling both uncharacteristically anxious about scenting something for the first time and filled with pride at his mate seeking out his scent for her nest.
As he scented different things for her and she took them to construct their home for the next week or so he could see the flush fading little by little and he saw less sweat droplets running down her hairline. It was almost as if the larger and more structured the nest grew the tamer her inner omega became. That soothed him too, making him thankful for the calm before the storm of her first heat really began and pulled his rut to the forefront with it.
He leaned against the far wall as she worked in silence arranging their things into the what he assumed was a perfect nest—he didn’t know much about omega nesting instincts but it looked inviting enough to him that he had no qualms about spending the next week tangled with her in the textile haven. It was as if the movement she caused sent more of that sweet smell of hers wafting through the room and he could’ve sworn the sugary scent was getting stronger by the moment.
With a few last cursory pats to the sweatshirt walls she looked up at him.
"Do you think we'll lose ourselves in the heat and rut?" she asked quietly, shifting from foot to foot.
Katsuki sighed. "That's what happens with most people."
"You know, I… I knew you were it for me a long time ago, Katsuki. This morning is an amazing memory and I guess, even if this is how we get to spend the rest of our lives I'd like to remember this first too."
"Then maybe we can bond before it fully hits. I can… smell that it's going to hit hard again and that you're already feeling it creep up.”
The slick feeling between her thighs meant he was probably right. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I guess I'm just nervous."
"Hey, I know this whole thing became way bigger than either of us thought but I’m still me—the alpha part doesn’t change that. Shit I couldn’t even think of hurting you without wanting to die before, can you imagine what type of insufferably sweet asshole I’m gonna be now?” he asked with only mild disgust as he crossed his room to lay one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek.
The smile he received was worth the uncomfortable admission of his feelings; reassurance wasn’t his forte and sharing his feelings even less so but he’d always try for her.
“I know, and I’m happy you’re the one I get to be with.”
“C’mon, your nest looks good,” he said, easing her forward towards his bed. “We able to get in it yet?”
She kissed his cheek. “Yeah, let’s get in our nest, alpha.”
The shudder was hard for him to suppress, but he allowed her to pull him into the plush space where they laid together once more. They laid on their sides facing one another and Katsuki reached out to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand where it lay between them.
It was an unspoken agreement to take all the time they could before allowing themselves to indulge in the instincts of their new secondary genders, and they spoke quietly about what it all meant for them.
Mates were more permanent than marriage and fated mates even more so. The idea of claiming bites at only eighteen was daunting but at the same time it was always the plan anyway. Of course they knew they’d present but that seemed far off and more inconsequential the longer they were together prior to a few hours ago. They had their after-graduation plans and a claim had been a mutual desire, and even pups sometime in the far future. Secondary gender, as Katsuki had loved to point out, wouldn’t change that.
But with the presentations occurring and revealing them as an alpha/omega pair there were still some things that hadn’t been discussed or planned for, and they needed to be addressed.
“I’m getting warmer,” she murmured.
“We’ve got a long week ahead of us but it’s nothing we can’t handle,” he smirked.
She gave him a weak smile and pushed past her nerves to bring up what had been on her mind since her talk with Recovery Girl.
"Will… will you…?"
"If you want to, we can bond now while we're still mostly clear-headed. Some shit I’d like to remember too, you know?"
Her cheeks went pink. "No—well, yes that's probably a good idea but I… I'm… will you actually knot me?"
He choked on his tongue. "Fuck, shit, do you want me to? Do I need to? For your heat?"
"I don’t— Don't you need it to get through your rut?"
"It's… I don't want to make the decision for you, alright? If you want me to I will and if you don’t I won’t. ‘S always your choice.”
She rolled onto her side to face him, one hand rising up to trace his cheekbone and the slope of his nose, even the dip of his cupid’s bow until she came to a stop at his chin. She pressed lightly and he turned his head to look at her.
“I’m not afraid of you or anything like that. It’s all just very sudden and a lot to wrap my head around, you know? Six hours ago we were virgins and now we’re literally together for life. That’s not bad, just a lot.”
“I know,” he mumbled. “But it’s why I want you to make the call. I ain’t gonna force you to do something you don’t want. We got forever to figure our shit out.”
She laughed. “Yeah we do. For now though, I want you to. We’re gonna bond today and then heatshare, rutshare, and get tied together for the next week. This morning was amazing and now that we know we’re fated mates I think that’s gonna make it even better.”
“Once is all it took to get you addicted, huh?”
“Shut up!” she whined as she pushed against his shoulder and turned away with a blush. His loud laughter echoed throughout his room and she crossed her arms with a pout.
“Oi. Look at me.”
She rolled onto her side to face him again, lips still pouted cutely. His eyes were soft as he looked over her face and she felt proud of the small smile upturning his mouth as he did.
He reached out to smooth a hand over her hair and then gently nudged her shoulder. “Lie back.”
She moved onto her back and he settled himself over her, lying between her parted legs. It was familiar and made her smile; they’d laid together like this a hundred times over the course of their relationship and maybe it was the perfect way to cross into something more permanent.
“Katsuki,” she murmured, feeling his hands go below the tank top. He pushed it up and over her head, tossing it to the side and fixing her with an unwavering gaze.
His hands slid beneath her, pressed between her body and the sheets below, and he kissed her softly. Her hands slid up his back before settling over the solid muscle of his shoulders.
“’M gonna be the best alpha on the fuckin’ planet,” he said as they pulled apart. His lips ghosted over her cheek and down her jaw to settle at her neck. “Know I already got the best omega.”
“Will you say it?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes.
The huff of a laugh and curl of his lips on her skin made her shiver. He moved in closer to her and raised up to whisper exactly what she wanted.
“I love you.”
Her arms tightened around him and tried pulling him closer but she knew it would never feel like enough until they bonded.
Katsuki seemed to understand that too because he moved back to her neck and grazed his lips teasingly for just a second before sinking his teeth into the perfect spot as a claim.
She gasped as her head tipped back at the rush of sensations that seemed to flow from the bite. Her brain filled with static but her body felt a rush of coldness like ice water had been poured over her to combat the heat she’d been feeling for so long. Her heart sped up in her chest and she knew it was synched perfectly with Katsuki’s. The entirety of her being was aligned with his and the bond cemented as she let herself move forward and bite into her mate’s neck to stake her own claim.
Time seemed to speed up before slowing down again when she was tasting blood off of both her and Katsuki’s lips as his hands cradled her face and kissed her deeply. The coolness she had experienced during the claim had been almost completely swallowed by the heat she felt pulsing through her and becoming tangible as a needy whine against his mouth. He was so close and smelled so perfect and she wondered if she could feel him closer, her hands digging into the defined muscles of his shoulders as she held him against her.
“Look at my pretty mate,” he said lowly, his voice hushed. He nosed against the underside of her jaw just above the fresh bite as his hands roamed over her torso. “My omega, smellin’ so sweet just for me.”
The purr that bubbled from her lips surprised her but his warm hands on her and the quiet praise pushed it aside quickly when he kneaded her chest.
Her hands traced over his arms, fingers trailing down over dips of muscle. “The strongest alpha I know is all mine. I’m so lucky to have such a handsome mate.”
A please growl rumbled through his chest as her fingers hooked in his waistband and began sliding down the sweatpants until he was able to kick them off. He quickly returned the favor with her underwear to leave them both completely bare. With their scents completely unhindered for the first time with the bond formed, they could both smell the heavy, warm sweetness of roasted chestnuts and cherries that filled his dorm room. It was spicy but soft and made their heads spin knowing that this was them.
Katsuki’s hands roamed the familiar curves of her body as he leaned forward to kiss around the bite mark, feeling her lips against his neck as she did the same to him. Shivers ran up his spine at the contact and a groan escaped him as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs.
“Tell me what you need.”
She whined, hands splayed on his toned stomach.
“C’mon, tell your alpha what you need,” he coaxed.
“You,” she whispered. “Your knot. Your pups. Our pups.”
When we’re ready, was the silent understanding about the request.
Their hips met as Katsuki rolled his forward, breathy moans coming from both of them as they relished the still-new feeling of intimacy and clutched onto one another tighter.
Instincts took over, cutting the moment short, and filled with room with groans and whines and pleas between the two of them. There was no slow fumbling like there had been earlier but instead the primal need to be closer and chase the pleasure that came with the heat and rut.
She kissed him hard as the heat throughout her body pooled low in her stomach and she could tell the difference in the feeling of closeness but her hazy mind couldn’t dwell on it past knowing that this was what she needed, what would finally cool her down at least a bit.
“You’re mine,” she murmured as her back arched up from the bed and her nails dug into his shoulders.
“’M yours. You’re mine,” he grunted, mouthing at the bite once more.
Their scents were overwhelming the closer they came to their end.
“C’mon alpha, need your knot,” she whined, crying out as he still within her.
His teeth sank into the bond mark fully again, and she bit into his as she felt exactly what her inner omega needed, what she herself wanted, and allowed herself to succumb to the feeling of contentment and pleasure she would live in with her mate going forward. Warm and sated and full and safe with her alpha was where she wanted to stay.
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“Bakugo. A word.”
He stalked over to his teacher, watching his mate step into the hallway from the corner of his eye. The new bond was sensitive and he was anxious when he couldn’t be with her. “What?”
“May I ask which of you proposed the idea of a non-traditional bite?”
“The hell are you talking about? We both have bites and they’re scarring the right way.”
Aizawa regarded him silently for a moment before waving him off. “It’s not important. Go.”
The blonde rolled his eyes and left the room, and he gathered his sleeping bag in his arms to set up in the corner for his midday nap.
It was annoying and awkward to have to deal with the paperwork and phone calls to guardians because two of his problem children couldn’t keep it in their pants while on campus—what he wouldn’t give to have seen Mitsuki Bakugo deal with this shit—and he certainly didn’t like the fact that he had to relay to the class what had happened either. He had prepared what would’ve been one of his best punishments to date for when the overwhelming scent of newly presented and bonded mates had lessened at least a bit, but it had all been abandoned the moment the two stepped up to speak with him.
Her embarrassment was obvious, the fact that her twice her age male teacher knew exactly what had been happening in that room for the past week probably enough to make her want to vomit, but furious blush aside she held herself well. Bakugo had (likely somewhat unintentionally) over scented the room alarmingly with equal parts calm for his mate and warning to his alpha teacher, his own blush prominent.
What stood out though, was the bond mark on her neck. It was already scarring which was to be expected and its placement was correct but it was backwards. Traditionally a bond mark was given to an omega by an alpha in the midst of a shared heat and rut, primal positioning meaning that the bite was given from behind. It was biology, instinct, the overwhelming need to lay claim—he understood that, had experienced it many times over even long after a bond mark was given. Fated mates were more susceptible to this too, especially when presenting early.
But this type of bonding mark made him think that it wasn’t fueled by that need or desire built deep into the rumbling chest of an alpha. At least, not completely. Looking into someone’s eyes was intimate, vulnerabilities laid bare before the person they’re going to spend their life with. That wasn’t easy, and a week prior he would’ve said that Bakugo would probably never be able to do it. To see that it was quite the opposite and seemingly unconscious on his part was fascinating.
He considered that instinct wasn’t the reason but the more he thought about it as he sat cocooned within the warmth of his sleeping bag, the more he realized it may actually be the opposite. Maybe it was instinct. Love was funny like that sometimes.
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A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I have a few ideas about a possible sequel for this story that would take place in the future when they’re ready, though nothing concrete just yet!
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ibis-gt · 3 years
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i made a fairytale au for cam and luther and then wrote nearly 5k words of fic for it?? which is wild bc i am not much of a writer. but. that’s under the cut. content warning for a pretty violent scene towards the end but there’s a happy ending i prommy
Once upon a time, there lived a prince. This prince, Luther by name, lived in a kingdom that was plagued by monsters. His father, the king, had gained his throne by feats of heroism, most notably by slaying a fearsome dragon that had ruled the land for years. The time came for Luther to prove he was worthy of the title of prince by slaying a monster of his own… 
Down in the countryside, farmers have been complaining for weeks of an ogre stealing their cattle and frightening their children. So Luther sets off in a splendid suit of armor, with a sword sheathed on one hip, a quiver of arrows on the other, and his bow slung on his back.
Luther rides his horse down to the village where the ogre was last spotted. He talks with the locals and gets a description of the creature. At least forty feet tall, they say, with greenish-grey skin and dark hair and teeth the length of a man’s forearm. Luther leaves his horse behind with the farmers because he doesn’t want her getting hurt and marches off, following a set of giant footprints left behind by the ogre, sword in hand. He would have to admit that he isn’t the best at sword fighting, and that really he’s never faced a monster on his own. But his father gave him a crucial tip: every monster has a weak point. Find the weak point, exploit it, and you’ll win every time. 
The footprints lead through the plains of grass, past the area where the farmers let their cattle out to graze, and into a dark forest. The sun is going down before he manages to find the ogre, so he sets up a little camp with a little fire and rests his tired bones. His armor isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it takes forever to get on and off even with someone helping him, let alone by himself. He sits with his back to a big boulder so nothing can sneak up behind him and eventually drifts off.
Luther awakens the next morning and groans at how stiff and sore he is. He sits up and pauses, brow furrowed, remembering that he’d gone to bed sitting upright. But just now, he’d been lying on his back. And he’s not the best tracker, but those giant footprints look… disconcertingly fresh. These things add up in his mind. He just about passes out. He crouches down and puts his head between his knees for a moment until he can breathe again and his heart stops pounding quite so hard. He was right next to it! He fell asleep leaning on it! If his father heard about this he’d give him such a beating. How could he not have noticed that the boulder was actually - 
His stomach rumbles, interrupting his panicked thoughts, and Luther remembers that the last time he ate was back in that farming village around two in the afternoon yesterday. He digs out a bit of beef jerky and morosely works at it. His father swears by the stuff, but it just makes his teeth hurt. Luther dreams of the kitchens back home and drools a little.
He gives up on the jerky and manages to take down a couple squirrels with his bow and arrows. He gets his fire blazing again and sets them cooking over it, and sits down to draw in the dirt and form a battle plan. He gets wrapped up in his drawing and loses track of time, but is startled violently back to reality as a deep booming voice from behind him says, “Your squirrel’s burning.”
Luther’s eyes snap up to the fire. He hastily pulls the stick with his squirrels off of it, waving it in the air to put out the bit of squirrel that had caught fire. He blows on it and inspects the damage. Not too bad, a little charred. Still definitely edible. Then realization dawns, and he slowly looks up and over his shoulder.
That’s the ogre. He’s unmistakable. Huge, greyish-green, with shaggy black hair and big tusks that jut out of his mouth. He’s down on one knee looming over Luther, modesty barely preserved by a loincloth stitched together out of the pelts of many different furry animals. Luther wills himself to not faint for the second time that day. 
“You gonna eat that?” The ogre booms. “’Cause I will if you won’t.”
“W-well, yes, I was planning to,” Luther quavers, “But there are two, so, um, you can have one if you want? We can share?”
He takes the non-burned squirrel off the stick and holds it up. His hand only shakes a little. The ogre takes it carefully between thumb and forefinger and tosses it in his mouth. With such a tiny morsel, he’d usually just swallow it whole, but an interesting flavor makes him stop and savor it for a moment. 
“What’d you do to it? Not like any squirrel I’ve eaten. And I’ve eaten a whole army of squirrels.” He slaps a hand on his formidable belly. The sound makes Luther jump. 
“I- I didn’t do much, j-just some seasoning, I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, please don’t eat me next." 
"You?” The ogre laughs. “Why would I eat you? You shared your food with me. That’s mighty polite. I’d say that makes us friends now, and I don’t eat friends.” He grunts as he shifts position, sitting down heavily and stretching out his legs. “Bad knees,” he grumbles. “Sat like that too long, but I wanted to see what you were drawing." 
Luther is now horrifically aware that he is directly between the ogre’s legs. He is also horrifically aware that he was drawing himself hitting an ogre with a sword. He hurriedly kicks some dirt over it. 
"Nothing. Nothing interesting. I’m a bad artist anyway.”
“Sure. What’s your name, little tin man? You didn’t seem too talkative when you snuggled up to me last night, but I thought maybe you were just tired. I’m Cam." 
"L-Luther.” Oh god. He was supposed to kill this thing, it - well, no, not ‘it’, he can’t think of Cam as an ‘it’ now he knows his name - he’s terrorizing folks, stealing their livelihoods, he’s supposed to drive him away, save the day, bring peace to the kingdom. Instead he’s sharing his meager breakfast and making friends with the monster. How did it all go so wrong!!
“So, Luther, you made of metal? I thought you were gonna take all that off, looks pretty uncomfortable, but you wore it all night. Unless it’s like… you?" 
"No, no, um, it’s just… it takes a long time to put it on and take it off? And I usually need help.”
 "Well shoot, friend, why didn’t you say so?“ Before Luther can object, a giant hand descends and plucks him up. He panics, struggles in Cam’s grasp, and Cam tsks at him. "I can’t get all that off you if you don’t hold still. Don’t make me squeeze." 
Luther goes still. If Cam squeezes the armor, it’ll stay squeezed. He wouldn’t want to still be in it if that happens. Cam clearly has no idea how to get someone out of armor though. He just pulls at clasps and buckles till they break, then shucks the metal off of Luther like an ear of corn. His helmet comes off first, freeing his dark brown curls.
“Aww,” Cam says, “lookit you. You’re kinda cute for a tin man.” He musses up Luther’s hair with a fingertip. "You’re like a little crab,” Cam chuckles. “Crack open the hard shell to get to the soft stuff underneath.” The food metaphor does not put Luther any more at ease as the rest of his armor is pulled off and tossed aside, piece by piece. Cam even strips the chainmail off of him and dumps it on the ground. This leaves Luther in his shirt and breeches, shaking like a leaf and terrified for his life. 
“Oh, you cold? Here, I gotcha.” Cam sandwiches him between his hands. Luther awaits the pressure and the horrible crunch that will no doubt be the end of his short life, but it never comes. Cam just holds him there, and truth be told his hands are very warm, and it had been a chilly morning. Luther relaxes very slightly.
After a few minutes, Cam lifts one hand a little and peeks at Luther. “Better?" 
"Much better, thank you. Even a little too warm, actually? Can I, um, come out now?" 
Cam laughs and opens his hands like a book, then tilts them so Luther tumbles into the palm of his left hand. "So what’s a fancy little shrimp like you doing all the way out here, with that tough shell and those sharp weapons? You huntin’ something?" 
Luther hesitates. It’s not… technically a lie, just an omission of truth, right? "Yeees…. Hunting.”
Cam laughs out loud, leaning back and slapping his knee with his free hand. “HA! You are just about the worst liar I ever met, Luther. Whew.” He actually wipes a tear from his eye. Luther feels his face heating up with anger and embarrassment.
“I am hunting! I’m hunting you!” As soon as he says it he regrets it. He slaps his hands over his mouth and cowers back as Cam sits up straight again and looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. 
“That so? Huh. Well, you found me, oh mighty hunter. And you fed me, and let me take your armor off you, and left all your sharp things on the ground while you sit in the palm of my hand. So, uh… how’s that goin’ for ya?”
“It… I… um… please don’t kill me?”
Cam grins. It’s not a nice grin anymore. It shows off too many teeth. “Lotsa folks have hunted me, you know. Not a one has succeeded. Most of ‘em can’t find me in the first place, not unless I want them to. Neat little trick we ogres have. We blend in well. The ones who did find me, they regretted it pretty quick. When I heard you clanking along with your silly armor and your little sword, I thought oh boy, here comes another one. But it turns out this one couldn’t find his own ass with both hands and a map, so he ain’t one of them legendary monster hunters lookin’ to claim some bounty. And he’s a little scrawny slip of a thing, too, and he keeps stopping to look at birds. I kinda liked you. And honestly, when you found me, it took me by surprise. Thought I had you pegged all wrong. Then you made your little fire, curled up next to me, and went to sleep, and it took everything I had not to bust my gut laughing right then and there. And now… well, I don’t rightly know what to make of you. Cute little thing, I know that. But cute won’t save you if you wanna tussle with me. So, little hunter… what’re you gonna do now?”
Luther’s nearly in tears. He manages to say, “Then… were you just… toying with me? This whole time? Waiting to see what I’d do?" 
Cam shrugs. "Pretty much.” That does it. The waterworks are in full swing. Luther’s chin trembles, his lower lip wobbles, and then tears are streaming down his face and he’s sobbing. 
“Y- you’re s-so-ho meeeaaaan,” Luther wails. “Y-you’re j-just making f-fun of me, I thought w-we were friends!” 
Cam has absolutely no idea how to respond to this. For some reason he actually feels guilty. “Aw - no - now look, there’s no call for - just… just stop crying, okay? Please?” Luther continues to sob, heedless of Cam’s pleading. “There, there,” Cam tries, patting Luther’s head. “I’m not going to kill you. Okay? How’s that? I’m sorry I called you - well. All those things. I’m sure you’re a great hunter. Look, you got those squirrels. And hey! That one I ate tasted great. You got some real skill there." 
Luther wipes his eyes and looks up, teetering dangerously on the edge of another sobbing fit. His eyes are all watery and a little red-rimmed. "R-really?" 
"Yes! Of course!” Cam clings to the compliment like a life preserver. “I bet you’re like, like the king’s cook or something, right? Cause you’re the best in the land?" 
Luther’s face crumples a little and he looks down, mutters something. 
"What?” Cam holds him up a little closer to his ear. 
“’m his son,” Luther mumbles again. 
“His son? You’re a prince? And you’re all - oh, hell.” Now he’s really put his foot in it. Luther bursts into tears again and curls up in a little ball.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I - oh, ugh, you’re getting my hand all wet.” Cam picks him up between thumb and forefinger and shakes the little tear droplets off his palm. “Now look here,” he says, attempting a sterner approach. “You’re a prince, all right? You can’t be crying and going to pieces just ‘cause some big bad monster was mean to you. You gotta kill big bad monsters, right? So here’s what you’re gonna do.” Cam sets him down gently, picks up his sword and hands it to him. “There you go. You’re gonna take that sword, right, and you’re gonna really let me have it. That’ll make you feel better, won’t it?“ 
Luther purses his lips and looks up at him. "But… all I can hit from here is your foot. That’s no good. I need a shot at something vital." 
"Oh fine, fine, Mr. Picky,” Cam grumbles. He shuffles his legs to the side and leans down til he’s practically laying on his belly. “Face shot. Free one for ya. Go on, hit something good.” Luther considers. Just as Cam realizes how ridiculous this whole thing is, he draws his sword back and plunges it into Cam’s eye.
- Almost plunges it into Cam’s eye. The ogre moves suddenly, turning his head to the side to avoid the blow. Luther makes a deep gash in Cam’s cheek, and Cam roars. “Oh, you sly little shit. Very good, very sneaky. You almost had me there. Fine. We do this the hard way.”
He gets to his feet, draws himself up to his full, impressive height, and looks down at the dirt where Luther was a moment ago. Cam blinks in surprise. “Where’d you… goddammit…” He looks around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Luther could’ve gotten to. 
Luther was not about to let the golden opportunity to run and hide during a big dramatic show of power go to waste. He slides into a patch of underbrush, catches his breath, and takes stock. He has no armor, no food, no bow or arrows. Those are all back at his camp, which is currently ogre territory. He has one sword that he’s okay at using. The ogre has the homefield advantage, and some kind of ability, possibly magical, to hide himself from those who want to find him. Luther shouldn’t let him out of his sight. But he should work on camouflaging himself. He takes a handful of dirt and smears it on his face and shirt. The sword he can’t do much about, he’ll just have to try and keep it from glinting. He glances to his left, away from where Cam still stands, turning in circles and peering around. Luther had only gone a little ways into the woods before he stopped for camp last night. He can almost see the forest’s edge from here. He could dart for the grasslands and try to make it back to the village, but he’d be in plain sight as soon as he’s out of the trees and there’s no guarantee Cam won’t just follow him all the way back. The further he goes into the trees the more firmly he is in Cam’s territory, but the more coverage he has. 
Possibilities begin swirling around in his head. His best bet is trickery rather than a face to face confrontation. He’s got a running list in his mind of Cam’s weak points now. Food, monologuing, emotional outbursts. Although that last one’s probably off the table now. Bursting into tears isn’t going to get him out of a second pinch. Bad knees - if he can trip Cam up, he can get a shot at his face again, maybe cut his throat or get at his soft belly and sides. Cam’s a talker and likes to gloat, maybe if he gets him distracted by looking pathetic he could get him to walk right into a trap of some kind. He likes food… but Luther doesn’t have the resources to make a big feast to distract him or sate him, just a pouchful of seasoning that he never leaves home without. His lip wobbles again as he thinks about how that’s back at his camp… he may never see his precious seasonings again.
Meanwhile, Cam is getting frustrated. “Well, the little shit can’t have gone far,” he grumbles. “Just gotta flush 'im out.” Luther watches, petrified, as Cam lumbers over to a nearby patch of underbrush and without warning stomps down on it hard, twisting his foot and smashing every inch of it. He steps back and leans down to inspect what’s left. Luther bites his lip hard to stifle a whimper. 
“Nope, not there,” Cam announces. “Eeney, meeney, miney…..” Another bunch of bushes are mercilessly ground into the dirt. “Moe. Hmmm. Where are you?”
Luther can’t stay in his hiding place for long. It’s only a matter of time before Cam gets to him. He needs an opening to make a break for it though, if he runs now Cam will spot him right away. As slowly as he dares, he picks up a large, flat rock, then skims it like a frisbee off to his right, where it hits a tree with a satisfying thock. Cam whirls around, and Luther bolts out of the brush. Cam hears the leaves rustling and turns back around, catching sight of him as he flees. 
“There you are! Hold on now, don’t go running off! I just wanna talk, I swear. The whole monster-slaying prince thing not working out for ya? I got a better job offer! You can be my dinner!” Luther keeps sprinting as fast as he can, not even bothering to glance behind him. The last thing he needs is to miss a fallen branch or a groundhog hole and trip.
On flat, open land, the ogre would outpace him easily. But if he can get deeper into the forest where the trees are closer together, that could slow him down enough for Luther to get some distance and hide again, have a moment to breathe and think so he can work on his plan. He’s starting to get an idea of what he’ll need. He needs the element of surprise for sure, and he needs more than just his sword. If he had some rope he could set up a tripwire, maybe. He curses himself for not taking his father’s advice about packing, for letting Cam strip him, for being too weak and scared to do anything when he had the chance, for being born in the first place. His eyes well up with tears and he scrubs at them furiously. He can’t afford to have his sight blurred right now, he needs to keep his head clear and keep moving. He can hear Cam’s thudding footsteps behind him, gaining quickly. He can cover so much more ground in a single step. It’s simply not fair. The little bit of distance he was able to gain with his rock trick is disappearing fast and it won’t be long before he’s in arm’s reach.
Almost as if he can read his thoughts, Cam lunges forward and takes a swipe at him, trying to knock him off his feet. Luther hits the deck and Cam overbalances, stumbling and crashing into a tree. The tree snaps when his weight collides with it, and Cam has to windmill his arms to keep from falling over. Luther scrambles to his feet and keeps running. He even manages to put on an extra burst of speed when he hears Cam roar with frustration behind him. He’s not as fast as he could be because he’s lugging the sword along with him, but he doesn’t dare drop it. It proves its usefulness in the next minute. Cam closes the distance and grabs for him. Luther sees the shadow fall over him and whirls around, lashing out at the reaching hand. He slices across Cam’s palm, and Cam howls with pain and pulls back. Luther dashes away, and Cam stomps his foot in frustration. 
"Hold still, dammit! You’re just making it worse for yourself!” He takes off after Luther again, but his stamina’s flagging. It’s harder for a creature his size to haul himself around and he’s used to running down his prey in the first minutes of the chase. This has dragged on long enough to tire him out, but he’s not willing to give up just yet. “When I get my hands on you, tin man, you’re paste,” he growls. “They’re gonna have to come up with new words for how dead you’re gonna be.”
The trees start getting close enough together that Luther has to dodge around them from time to time. He can hear Cam behind him crashing through them, spluttering as he gets a face full of branches and leaves. Luther smiles to himself. That’s nice, at least. At last he gathers up his nerve and dodges to the side behind a particularly large tree, hoping that Cam’s too busy navigating the foliage to notice. His gamble pays off. A few seconds later, the ogre goes lumbering past him without so much as a sideways glance. Luther waits just a moment more, then bolts in the opposite direction.
He’s got a plan now. He probably won’t be able to find Cam again, but Cam can find him. So he’ll set up an ambush. He circles back around to his camp and grabs his supplies as quickly as he can, his bow and arrow, his helmet, his tinderbox, and most importantly, his seasoning. He hunts for deer, takes down a decent-sized buck, and sets up a new campfire, deep in the woods, where the trees are close. He’s hoping that Cam will think that Luther thinks he’s safe in there, and that the smell of the meat cooking will lure Cam in. He takes off his shirt and fills it with twigs and leaves, sets his helmet up on a stick driven into the ground, and makes a decently convincing decoy Luther that he leans against a log. The helmet tilts at an angle that makes it look like he’s fallen asleep. With that set up, and night closing in, Luther climbs up a nearby tree and waits, sword in hand.
He doesn’t watch the fire. He wants to keep his night vision sharp. And sure enough, before too long here comes Cam, moving surprisingly quietly for his size. He squeezes through the trees with barely a rustling of leaves. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the fire and the silhouette that the decoy makes against it. Cam gets right behind the decoy and slams his foot down on it. He grinds it into the dirt with a relish that makes Luther shudder. Then Cam looks at the deer cooking with that lovely smell rising off it, and his eyes go big and shiny. As Cam bends down to pick it up, Luther chooses his moment. He drops like a stone and buries his sword lengthwise in the back of Cam’s neck. The impact sends a jolt up his arms and he hangs on as tight as he can. Cam lets out a garbled scream of pain and collapses face first on the ground. Luther gets to his feet, pulls his sword out with some difficulty, takes a deep breath, and begins to chop.
It’s messy, horrible work. By the third swing tears are rolling down Luther’s cheeks. By the seventh, he’s sobbing. After the twenty-third cut, Cam’s head is finally severed, and rolls to the side. Luther stumbles back. He’s trembling, covered in blood, panting and crying, but it’s finally done. 
And then Cam’s head says, “Wow, kid. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Luther watches, dumbfounded, as Cam’s body sits up, searches around with its hands, locates his head, and puts it back on his shoulders as the flesh knits together again. Luther drops his sword in disbelief. He falls to his knees. That was it. That was all he had. He can’t even imagine what he could do against a foe who can just reattach his own head. 
“Oh,” he says quietly. “Okay. Um. Make it quick, please?” Cam had been planning to crunch the little shit once he was back on his feet, but he can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at how despondent Luther looks.
“Aw, no, no, don’t give up so quick! Really, you almost had me!” Cam scoops him up and pats him on the head. “Look, it was a good effort. I’m sure if you had known I can’t be killed, you wouldn’t have spent all that time and energy trying to kill me. Just do a little more research next time, yeah?" 
"Next time,” Luther repeats, and gives a hollow laugh. “There isn’t going to be a next time. I’m not welcome as part of the royal family if I can’t kill a monster. Even my sister’s done her first slaying already. A whole nest of vampires! And I can’t kill one measly ogre." 
"Hey, watch who you’re calling measly,” Cam warns, but his heart isn’t in it. “Jeez. You’ve got some issues, kid. Not much of a fighter, I take it?" 
Luther shakes his head and sighs. "I’m just not very good at it." 
"Well they chose one hell of a first mission for you, that’s for sure. Ogres are tricky ones. We’ve got a lot of defense mechanisms.” Cam thinks for a moment. “You know what you are good at, though? You’re a good talker. Very convincing. I mean, you really had me going, with the crying and all? It was a really good ruse." 
Luther bites his lip. "Um…" 
"Okay, so it was for real and not a ruse. But you made the best of a bad situation! That’s also a good skill for a ruler to have. You just gotta show your family that your skills are less conventional, but still effective! Like, okay, why do you have to kill me? What’d I do?" 
“You’re eating all the farmers’ cattle and scaring people." 
"I thought free range meant I had free reign. Eh? Eh?” Cam pokes Luther in the ribs. Luther frowns at him. “Oh, fine, whatever. No sense of humor. You know, that’s pretty important for a king too. Yeah, all right, I’ll leave the cows alone." 
"And the sheep,” Luther says sharply. “And the pigs, and chickens." 
"I haven’t eaten any pigs or chickens,” Cam protests. 
“Not yet. I’m being proactive." 
"There you go!” Cam says, beaming. “There’s that negotiator skill! But seriously, if I can’t eat the cows and sheep I’ve got to eat something. Can you make it worth my while? 'Cause I’m not going back to squirrels." 
"Well…” Luther says slowly. “What if… I hire you?" 
"You… hire me?" 
"Yeah. Like, as a bodyguard or something. Then I’d have to pay you, right? I could pay you in food?” 
Cam is quiet for a moment. He brings Luther up closer to his face and scrutinizes him. Luther’s heart is pounding out of his chest. For a moment he thinks he’s made some horrible mistake and offended Cam and it’s all over for him. "You’re serious? Not kidding me, here? That’s your offer?”
“Y-yes? Is that… is it bad?" 
"Bad? Bad? That’s the best offer I’ve ever heard! Pay me in food? HELL yes, kid! That’s what I like to hear!” The force of Cam’s enthusiasm knocks Luther over on his back. He stares at the sky for a moment. His life is so goddamn weird.
~~~~~~~~~
Luther’s father’s dragon slaying days are behind him. He’s an old man now. He has good days and bad days, but even on his best days he frequently needs help getting around. But when he sees that giant ogre enter his royal halls, he reaches for his spear. Luther eases it out of his hand. 
“No, see, it’s okay. I didn’t kill him, but I stopped him terrorizing the countryside, and I kind of… hired him. As my bodyguard. This was easier, and we both benefit, see? Also, um, were you going to tell me ogres are immortal?" 
"You were supposed to figure something out,” his father says. “Since you’re so damned smart." 
"Well, I did figure something out. Just… maybe not what you wanted me to." 
Cam waves lazily. "Hi, Yer Majesty." 
"Cam,” Luther hisses. “We talked about this." 
"Oh, fine, fine,” Cam grumbles, and takes a knee to bow low before the king. “I humbly pledge my service to your son,” he intones, hamming it up just a little. “Please allow me to protect him from all harms, and so on." 
The king glares. His stabbing hand is itching. But he doesn’t currently have a better plan, and this’ll keep the peasants quiet for a bit. "Fine,” he spits, “But you’re taking care of him. Feeding him, walking him, cleaning up after him, whatever. No getting the servants to do it for you. He’s your responsibility now." 
Cam grins at Luther. "So, speaking of feeding… when’s dinner?”
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