#also i never upload my dark fics just because *shrugs*

[gor3-hound]

daddy's home

ft. fushiguro toji x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, dad/daughter incest, oral(f!recieving), degradation, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, p in v, he's got a fat cock idk, creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, he's kind of an asshole

a/n: hiii! not a resident evil fic omg who am i? so down bad for toji it's not even funny... this got out of hand so quickly it was meant to be half this size... oops? jjk works now being uploaded to @puppykento

word count: 2.3k words

You never saw your dad much growing up. To call him a deadbeat would be an understatement. He was the type of guy to pawn off the presents that ‘Santa’ got you a week or two after Christmas to get some extra cash.

He was rarely ever home, and when he was, he'd bum whatever he could off of you and Megumi. Although Megumi had gone off to that school now, which was great, really. You were happy for him. He comes to visit whenever he can, and he's always bringing you things to help out.

Really, you should be looking after him. He was your younger brother, after all. But he also knew that your dad tended to bother you more than him, so he's always been a little protective of you. He sends you a text everyday to check in on you, asking if you'd seen Toji.

Toji. Not dad. You're not sure when Megumi got into that habit, but you can't bring yourself to do the same. He's still your dad, even if he's a bit of an asshole. He cares about you deep down, you know he does. He might not show it, but you like to believe he thinks about you when he's gone.

Safe to say, you're surprised when he shows up at the door on your twenty-first birthday with a cake tucked securely under his arm. He flashes you a grin, pushing past you and into the apartment without so much as a ‘hello’.

He sets the cake down on the table before flopping down on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table like he owns the place. Which, okay, technically he does. His name is on the tenancy agreement, but he's not the one paying the rent.

“Didn't expect to see you here today.” You say after a moment, standing awkwardly off to the side. You never knew what to do with your dad. You didn't know him, really. Talking to him was always hard for you.

Your gaze falls to the cake after he doesn't respond. It's some cheap, pre-made grocery store cake. You can't imagine he spent much on it at all, but the gesture was nice. He hadn't gotten you anything for your birthday since you were twelve and he got you that shitty plastic bracelet that broke after a day.

“You didn't need to get me anything.”

“Mm. But you're my kid. It's a big birthday.” He says simply, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV, using the cable that you pay for. Typical.

You're surprised he even remembers your age, but you'd take it. Guess your suspicions were confirmed. He cares about you, at least a little.

“Where's the brat?” He asks after a moment, as if he registered Megumi hadn't shown his face. His eyes flick across the room before settling on you.

“He couldn't make it today. He's coming on the weekend.” He just shrugs when you tell him that, spreading his legs a little to get comfortable.

“Ah. You're my favourite, anyway.” He tells you, and you smile. You know you're only his favourite because you put up with his shit, but it still makes you happy to hear him say that. You can see the way his lips curl into a smirk at that, and he slowly drags his gaze along your body.

You're not sure you appreciate the way he's looking at you, though. Like, it's great to get some attention from your dad for once, but that doesn't exactly mean you want him looking at you like you're a piece of meat.

“What're you doin’ now, anyway? You dropped out, no?” Yeah. You had to. Someone had to pay the bills. “So, what… you working as a stripper or something? Got the body for it. Bet you'd make a killing.”

Your face wrinkles up in disgust immediately at that. You cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself a little more, your brows furrowing as you look at him.

“Jesus, dad. That's nasty. Why are you even looking at me like that?” You ask with a frown, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Alright!” He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, brows raising slightly. He lets his hands drop onto his thighs and shrugs again. “Just a joke. Tough crowd, huh?”

You roll your eyes and huff, crossing your arms over your chest. That seems to draw Toji's attention, his gaze lingering on your tits for a moment before he's looking up at you with that stupid fucking grin again.

“What? I'm proud of my work, ‘n you're just another one of my many successes.” He has an air of cockiness around him as he says that, and it just weirds you out even more. What a creep.

“Anyway, I been thinkin’...” He begins, his eyes trailing your body again. You shift uncomfortably yet again, staring him down. “Your daddy is a little strapped for cash at the moment… but I gotta give my special girl a gift for her birthday, don't I?”

“Real interesting, ‘cause you haven't bothered before.”

He starts scowling at that, his lip curling. “I'm tryna be nice. Don't need to be a bitch about it. I'm a busy man.” He pauses, giving you a once over. “Always so fuckin’ bratty. Bet a good dick'd fix that shitty attitude.”

“The hell is wrong with you today?” You snap, trying to ignore the way your dad was very obviously checking you out. It makes you uneasy, in more ways than one. Most notably is the way it's weirdly hot, and that thought alone makes you feel queasy.

“Just c'mere, will ya? No need to be pissy on your birthday. I'm tryna be nice.” He huffs, patting the spot next to him. You walk over to him, but before you can sit, he's tugging you into his lap and holding you down against his hardening cock.

“Dad, wha-”

“Now here's what's gonna happen.” He grunts, nosing at your neck before he's attaching his lips to your skin, his grip on your hips tightening. “I'm gonna make you cum on my tongue, ‘cause it's your birthday, and I'm so sweet. Then you're gonna sit on my cock. Understand?”

You open your mouth to speak, but Toji is quick to cut you off, biting down on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “If the words that're about to leave your mouth are anything but ‘yes, daddy’, then I don't wanna hear it.”

Your mouth snaps shut, opens again, and you're repeating the words back to him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That's how you end up lying on your back in your bed, the sheets crumpled beneath you with your dad's face buried in your cunt. He's got one hand pressed firmly on your stomach to stop you from moving too much, his other hand keeping a strong grip on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

He eats pussy sloppy. The only time he pulls away is to spit on you before he dives right back in, tongue thrusting in and out of your drippy hole. He's already made you cum twice, a puddle forming on the sheets under your ass from how wet you are.

“Ah… dad, I can't. S'too much.” You tell him, trying to squirm away from his mouth. He glares up at you from between your legs, and then he pulls away. You sigh in relief, but then he's spreading your folds with one hand and bringing the other down harshly against your clit.

You yelp, kicking your feet out. He does it again. And again. “You'll take what you're given.” He growls with another harsh slap, then he's lowering his head again to suck greedily at your swollen clit as he slips two fingers into your pussy without resistance.

His spits dribbling down to your hole as he makes the dirtiest sounds you've ever heard. You didn't know it was possible to be this greedy when it came to eating pussy. Doesn't even feel like it's for you, at this point. He's just eating away to his heart's content.

“You're such a messy girl, baby. Gettin’ my wrists all wet. Didn't know pussies could leak this much.” He mumbles into your cunt, flicking his tongue and curling his fingers. “Must really love your daddy, huh?”

You clench around him, cumming for the third time with a whimper and the bastard finally lifts his face away from you. Gives you that stupid smirk again, darting his tongue out to lick as much of your juices from his face as he can manage, then he uses his free hand to wipe the rest off on the back of his hand. Slob.

“Having a good birthday?” He asks with a shit-eating grin, scissoring his fingers open inside of you, ignoring the way you whine and try to pull away again. All you can do is nod, already so dumb from the pleasure he's giving you that you can barely respond.

“That's my girl.” He coos, patting your face a few times before he's pulling his hand away, leaving you mourning the loss. Can't let any of your cum go to waste, so he pops them in his mouth and sucks them clean.

Doesn't take him long to pull his cock out. It's fat and heavy, hanging low even though it's hard. Your breath hitches as you see it, and you start to push away from him.

“Dad, what the fuck?” That's a boost to his ego. “That's not… there's no way that's gonna fit.”

“I'll make it work. Been between your legs long enough.” He mumbles, grabbing you by your hips and tugging you towards him on the bed. He pushes the tip in, and he can't bite back the smile that forms at the noise you make.

He pushes in so slowly that he's barely even moving. The stretch still hurts, tears forming in your eyes. When he finally bottoms out with a groan, you're so full that you can barely breathe. You swear you can feel that shit in your lungs. Your poor mother.

“Fuck… you're so fucking tight. Shoulda done this years ago…” He breathes out, bangs hanging in front of his eyes as he lets his head hang low. He's nice enough to stay put for a moment, his cock throbbing against your cervix - which is definitely going to be bruised after this. You don't think you're gonna be able to walk for a week.

He pulls out slowly until just the tip left inside, his length glistening from your slick pussy. He stares down appreciatively at the sight before thrusting back in. He builds a rhythm, rocking his hips against yours.

The sound of your moans fill the room, but he's more of a grunter. His grip on your hip is bruising, and it starts to hurt a little. He's using his hold on you so that he can manhandle you into his thrusts, making sure he's filling up every inch of you.

“Such a good fucking slut.” He pants, rocking into you even harder, a crease forming between his brow. “Gonna mould this pretty pussy to the shape of my dick. No other guy's gonna be able to fuck you, baby. Just daddy.”

You nod at his words, too fucked out to even register what he's saying. You'd agree to anything he said as long as he kept up with what he was doing.

“She's sucking me in, princess. Never had anyone take me so well before. My dick's splittin’ you open, and you're just. Fucking. Taking it.” He punctuates his words with deep, slow thrusts that have you pulsing around his cock.

“Made just for me, huh? My own daughter bein’ the one who's got the perfect pussy for my cock.” He growls, shifting slightly so his hands are gripping your thighs. He presses them against your chest, leaning over you as he starts fucking you again.

He's so much deeper like this, punching the air out of your lungs every time his hips slap against your ass. Tears start streaming down your face, your walls tightening around him.

“Shit… you tryna push me out?” He asks, his voice sounding a little strained. “God… she's fuckin’ milking me. She's cryin’ for me even more than you are.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, his thrusts growing sloppier. “Gonna fill you up, but you gotta cum for me first. You gonna do that for me?”

You nod weakly, gripping his shoulders as he pounds you into the mattress. Your nails claw at his skin, and you feel the wetness of his own blood beneath your fingers, but he doesn't even flinch. He seems to like it, letting out a low moan as your nails dig into him.

Your eyes roll back as you cum, your lips parting as you cry out ‘daddy’. You gush around his cock, leaking all over your own thighs until it's dripping down his balls.

“Such a dirty girl.” He grunts, his movements becoming erratic as his balls tighten. “Shit, baby. Gonna cum, and you're gonna fucking take it.”

He pushes in one last time, burying himself to the hilt and holding himself there. He grinds against you weakly as his cock kicks, shooting ropes of cum deep into you.

“Gooood… that's my good fucking girl.” Toji collapses on the bed, his dick slipping out as he lays back on your bed. “Happy birthday, baby.”

There's that smile again. Arrogant prick.

He stays put for a while, leaning back against your pillows with his legs spread and his arms behind his head, taking up a good 80% of your bed and leaving you to lay on the edge.

“I need a beer…” He grumbles, running a hand over his face before he tilts his head to look at you. “You got any cash?”

[shadowdianne]

Twenty questions for fic writers

(I guess I still am that xd let's see)

thank you for the tag love @waknatious

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Uhhh, this one will always be tricky lol; not every fic I ever wrote is on a03 as I did a lot of posting here that I considered too short to be posted back in a03 -i bothered y'all enough whenever I posted the fic batches there with those fics that were longer than... I think my inner rule was 1k?- so even if in reality I think the total sum between my two pseuds is close to 500 and something some of the old fics got deleted when i cleaned up shop and then there are more that are somewhat lost in here. So, let's just say that I have a ton of those visible on a03 and there's a bunch more that are, as my name suggests, in the shadows :P

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Again, tricky question xd But working with the numbers I currently can see and are visible for those that would want to check... 1,259,402 That doesn't sound right. heh *shrugs*

Edit: Ah, I think the reason why the number sounds weird is because the last time I did this question I still had like 15 or so I've ever since deleted. Plus some others so, again, the number is decieving.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

*Slight correction; wrote for* majority would be SQ as we know. Sprinkled with a little bit of SC, Shannara Chronicles, Rizzles... but the main ship and therefore fandom was SQ

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I've decided to not look into those stats xD Sorry. Last time i got this ask I did it and it only reinforced the little burn out gnome of how I wasn't good enough; my works were read and I was requested prompts long enough to know I was somewhat liked on some obscure basis but I never had that much luck on the kudos department. I believe that the fics at the time I last checked were SC, maaaybe Sabrina (?) -the one vaguely smutty pertaining Madame Zelda was uploaded there I believe(????) so it might have been that one, and some other one that wasn't about the main ship I wrote for. (the 100 one maybe?)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Back when I wrote and posted I did, yes. If at some point I missed a comment it might have been because I was swamped at the time with uni and work and I might have been far too focused on getting out the next prompt batch I was working on at the time but 99% of the time I responded to every single comment. I appreciate the feedback aspect of fandom, be that a reblog, share, comment or kudo or whatever other form and for those that commented, i hope you know that as much as I loved to tease you and generally torment you with my purple prose, i appreciated every second spent on leaving a comment.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

*snorts* I have a bunch. I don't remember all of them like I used to but I think that I liked the ones I did back when we were loving the concept of a Dark Swan and I kept on having both Emma and Regina battle each other in the middle of Storybrook. There are a couple in which I know I killed either Emma or Regina in a very fantastical way :P Oh, and then there's the one I did with... was it Emma? Dying at the hospital. One that was an answer to Del's prompt that I decided to focus on the whole concept of the hospital bed. I think that one, for a variety of reasons, is the angstiest in terms of how it was thought off and written.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uh. I honestly don't think I have a factual answer there; my fics were always written as sort of small windows into the worlds presented on them. As I never quite did long format fics there was never a real "true" ending there. Dunno, does anyone remember what would they consider a happy ending from me? xd

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did. Back when I wrote I always had a couple of trolls floating around on my tumblr inbox. I also had a couple more on the comment section but the main place was always tumblr. I sometimes shared the asks but I tended to erase the majority of them as soon as I saw them. The reason behind those asks is unfathomable to me but.... anyway xd I think i've written enough posts about how i felt about those lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

*snorts, again* I tend to focus on teasing. Or, I did. I think I will always prefer the concept of leaving as much as possible of the actual sexual act to the mind of the reader and just put the... frame of it if you will. I'e written pwp tho, small snippets here and there -and words of desire, that series in where i solely wrote a smutty scene based on the words I got sent- I enjoy the process of writing something that is about feelings and how can those be explored and heightened based on the scenario and situation but I always prefered, again, to be a tease about it xd

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

The only fic I've written that I think would constitute as a crossover would be the Lara Croft and Wonder Woman one. It was mostly a joke but I had fun with it. However, whereas I don't mind reading crossovers I always tended to stay away from them (Not AUs based on some other IPs tho, that's different xd). The main logic behind it was that I'm, first and foremost, worldbuild based so if I wanted to create a logical explanation for x, y, or z that alone would eat up a lot of the story itself. And I prided myself on being able to write stories under 2k or less soooooo....

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yup! But some minor ones in some of those sites that the whole thing was scrapped, comments and all and you got notified through fb groups xd Considering I've been MIA for so long I doubt anything has gotte since.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I got asked a couple of times and gave my consent to one once but I think it never went anywhere,

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've collaborated with other fic writers ^^ (@stregaomega for example was and will always be the very fucking best) and it was awesome! But I tended to move more in the -I write one chapter and you do the next one and then I answer to that other one...- kind of scenario.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

SQ for writing I guess!

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I wrote the end of almost all of the fics that I left unfinished by the time I went byebye on the whole thing but then my fantastic burn out considered the -even today I think is quite valid- angle on how "it's been long enough since I started them so no one will want to read those." I scrapped almost all of them. I think I'll always get slightly sad about not finishing a bunch of the AU's tho. The Ministry of Hidden Stories series for example! I always loved a good Steampunk. And that other one in which Regina was basically Queen Mab. The name is eluding me. Drat. Well, that one. I had like 80 or something pages on the continuation of that one. But, *points at the beginning of this* welp.

16. What are your writing strengths?

(Also, thanks W for the acknowledgment there lol; I always wanted for the description to feel 'real' <3) As I always said; I don't think I had any. But it's true that I always enjoyed much more the in-between as W has said in her own answer there xd The descriptive moments, the movement of the character, the way they are behaving and the words they are not saying. I always found that dialogue was... harder to keep OC or to the point enough to be engaging but focusing on what one is saying and what another one is understanding based on the way they perceive the world was way much more interesting. Which resulted in loooong descriptive paragraphs lol.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

*sighs* Dialogues.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Uhm xd As someone that speaks more than two languages and has written stories in their mother tongue as well as a bunch on others.... I think I'm not entirely against doing it but I don't think it's that easy to convey a true relationship with being able to speak in more than one language. It's often used as a way of informing the reader -or in pwp bc, yknow, hot- but the linguistic side of my brain will always be at odds with that in some way xd I'm basically all for it but I think that there are ways in where it can be a little bit clunky; depending on how it's presented.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I always doubt between Bellice (Bella and Alice from Twilight) and some lost Glee fic. And there were some from Sailor Moon and Card Captor Sakura... I think that the very first one you can find under my pseud is a Bellice one tho so let's stick with that.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Not the best but I'll always pick Metallic Ink for that question. I really had fun with the worldbuilding there and will always hate that I run out of time to basically write more for it as it was a SuperNova fic.

--

It's far too late right now to do a proper tag so I'll leave this here and return tomorrow and tag anyone I find :P

[the-shrieking-shack]

Thinkin' I Had You

Pairing - Regulus Black x James Potter

Word Count - 4k words

Author's note -

Hello...This is my first time writing a one shot fic (and uploading too). I don't know if such a fic is already written before but if it is then I am extremely sorry because I was not aware and will give credits...Also as this is my first time I'm not sure if you guys will like it or not, but if you do then please share/like/reblog it so that even I get to know that the story has received some love... That's all I wanted to say..and hoping that y'all will like it...

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James. The only thought Regulus had on his mind these days was James. The difference was that earlier, it would bring butterflies in his stomach but now all it brought was a sense of disgust, betrayal and memories. Memories he could never get rid of. Memories that stung and hurt like hell ! Memories of a boy...who made him realise his worth, of a boy who made him realise that he could love and be loved, of a boy who changed his life for good. But those memories did not last long and what they had slipped away into a moment in time. Dwelling on these thoughts and knowing that he won't be able to concentrate, he packed his things up and left the library, walking down the dark and lonely hallway towards the common room.

The Slytherin Common Room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls that were intricately carved. The room had a Gothic feel to it with it's drab colours and round greenish lamps and lights hanging on the chain from the ceiling. On entering the room smell of mint, pine forest with earthy undertones and fire filled his nose. Oh ! How much he loved this smell. It felt so comforting. Not many people were awake. Just a bunch of first-years and third-years chattering. He heard them talking about some 'big game'. He was climbing the dorm stairs when it clicked him. Tomorrow was the Quidditch House Cup Finals between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. A game that he had been dreading as well as longing to watch. How could he forget that ! On reaching the dorm room, he quietly opened the door, lied in his bed and dozed off.

The morning was cool and pleasant ; perfect for a Quidditch game. The enthusiastic crowd took their seats in the stands. The stadium was filled with cheers and boos. The game began without any issue. As the game went on, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had scored various goals. The current score was 60-50 in favour of Hufflepuff. The snitch had not yet been seen by either of the teams.

Hufflepuffs were now in possession of the quaffle, when all of a sudden, Amos and James started going for an object (possibly the snitch) that they had seen at a distance. They headed straight for the object, Amos in the lead. James dodged a bludger from one of the Hufflepuff players. Then, Amos dived as if he spotted the snitch closer to the ground. James swung around coming from the opposite direction. The two seemed as if they were going to collide with one another. At the last moment, James jumped off his broom and landed hard on the ground. He then somehow stood up (his left knee now bleeding), raised his hand high and revealed the shining snitch in hand. The score was now 210-70. "Gryffindor has won this year's Quidditch House Cup !!" the commentator announced. The stadium burst with claps and greetings. Regulus quietly stood up and left.

No matter how much he hated James, he couldn't help but smile at James' reckless nature and how he just jumped off the broom to catch the snitch. Suddenly he felt as though James called him but he just shrugged it off thinking he must've misheard it and the fact that James wouldn't even get a chance to-

"Regulus !" He heard someone call again and this time he was certain of who it was. He slowly turned around and saw James gasping for his breath.

"Hello !" James said.

"Potter, you do realise that you have a bloody knee, right ?" Regulus commented, swishing his wand and healing the wound. "Or did you just not know the healing spell ? "

"Regulus, I wanted to talk to you." James looked him in the eye.

"Well, that's a sad thing for I am swamped right now." Regulus was about to leave when James caught his hand, turned him around and pinned him against a wall. Regulus' heart was beating faster than ever. Looking at the scared look on his face, James let him loose.

"How dare you touch me, Potter ! Do not underestimate me, I have more power than you can even comprehend !" Regulus snapped.

"Well then you could've just listened to what I wanted to say !" James said snapping back.

"Okay ! Go ahead ! But this will be the last time you lie to me."

"Regulus...You know it's not like that." James said softening his tone.

But Regulus had lost it.

"It didn't have to be like that but you ruined everything ! You never cared about me, did you ? Because if you did then you would've stayed. You would've help me fix things. But it doesn't matter anymore because...You weren't mine to lose, James." Saying this he left, tears falling down his cheeks.

And James stood there heartbroken, trying to hold back his tears, his body shaking with what he just heard...And he could see them, lost in a memory for what they had slipped away into a moment in time.

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[itsallyscorner]

hey. can u do part 2 to the’ Being a High School Student on A Marvel Set’? :)

💌

Period Buddies

Pairing: platonic!Sebastian Stan x teen!reader, platonic!Anthony Mackie x teen!reader

Summary: I’m currently on my period so I wrote this to help me cope:) Basically Anthony and Seb being the biggest and supportive guys to you during your period:)

Warnings: Umm not much, some mentions of blood and periods.

Hello my love!💞 Thank you for the request! I was actually planning on making another ‘High School student’ fic with the Marvel cast, so I decided to use that idea for this request! I hope you like it🥰 Also sorry I haven’t uploaded a fic in a while; I was lacking motivation to write and school was pretty hectic😭 Thank you for your patience my loves x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

fluturaș - little butterfly

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You were laid out along your couch in your trailer, a fluffy Sherpa blanket wrapped around you and your head resting atop two soft pillows. You were laid on your stomach, the pressure of the couch slightly helping with the stinging pain in your lower abdomen. Your geography teacher was teaching via Zoom, though your laptop was on the coffee table that was inches away from you; knowing you weren’t feeling your best, you’ve decided to stay on the couch for school and moved the table closer to the couch so everything was within your reach. You had been lazily taking notes—or attempting to with the remaining energy you could muster up.

You had been surprised by the devil himself when you woke up earlier today at around six in the morning. You knew your monthly was coming; with the constant cravings, body aches, and the newly developed pimple gracing your face, your period was around the corner. And you were right, a dark red stain was splotched onto your white floral bedsheets when you woke up today. What a way to start the morning.

Yes, no woman ever felt their best during their period. You were always bloated, hungry, and blood was constantly flowing out of you, yet you were still expected to show up to both work and school. Not to mention, the pain you were currently enduring was making it really difficult for you to to focus on anything. Your teacher’s voice seemed to fade into the background as your body was blinded with the stabbing pain in your lower abdomen. You may have been overreacting, but everything just hurt.

Geography was your midway class, meaning that you were halfway through your school day. Which also meant that you were soon to be called to set. You had a lunch break and some time to do your homework, but either way you still had to get to set. Usually you’d be antsy to get the school day over with, practically buzzing to get to get into your costume and do some stunts with your two favorite guys on set. Although today was different, the thought of heading to set and being active felt dreadful. You just wanted to curl up into a ball, snuggle into your Sherpa blanket, and take a well deserved nap.

Your teacher’s voice was interrupted by a knock on your door. Already knowing who it was, you let out a faint “come in” to the two men outside your trailer. A second passes before your trailer’s door slowly opens and Anthony’s head pops from behind it. His sparkling yet dark brown eyes and toothy grin etched onto his friendly features. Sebastian pops up behind him, an equally wide smile on his face as he wiggled a white take away box in the air.

“What’s up buttercup.” They cheerfully greet you.

Though both of the men’s smiles drop once they see you bundled up on the couch. Anthony fully enters your trailer, Sebastian following suit. Approaching your little set up, Anthony glances at your laptop.

“Isn’t your camera on? Did your teacher allow you to attend school like this?” He asks you. He knew you were a responsible kid and had no troubles keeping up with your education. But that’s the thing, you were still a kid. Having kids of his own, he knew how unmotivated children can get in the middle of the school year and the laziness that came along with it. Seeing you lounging on the couch while your teacher was lecturing was just a bit concerning for him.

You stiffly nod, “My camera’s off. I just don’t feel good.”

The last sentence catches both of the grown men’s attention. Sebastian rounds the corner of the coffee table and hovers over you, observing your face. He softly places the back of his hand onto your forehead, checking for any alarming warmth.

“You’re a bit warm, but it’s probably because of the blanket.” He mutters, choosing to sit on the arm rest of the couch. “You alright, fluturaș?” He looks down at you in concern, lips tilting down into a small frown.

Anthony had settled beside your feet, one of his arms using your ankles as an arm rest. Strangely enough his arm brought you comfort instead of adding to the ache in your legs.

“I’m just—I’m on my period.” You mumbled in response. You wait for the awkward tension to build but it never came. You glance at the two men and see the realization settle in them.

“And I have really bad cramps at the moment, that it’s just hard to do anything. So I decided to stay on the couch today.” You explain with a slight shrug. They didn’t understand the pain you were going through, but they understood what you meant. While the both of them had female friends and what not, they were somewhat aware of what you were going through.

Anthony claps his hands to his thighs, “Alright, it’s ok to give yourself some rest. You just relax and listen to whatever your teacher’s going on about.” He motions to your laptop and continues, “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

While taking down notes, you momentarily glance at them, “No it’s fine, you guys already brought me food. Thanks, by the way.”

They didn’t want to leave you alone, you were clearly not feeling well and they both wanted to do something. They couldn’t do anything about the pain from your menstrual cycle, but they can help distract you from the pain.

“No, we’re gonna help you. Have you eaten ever since breakfast? I’ll spoon feed you if I have to.” Sebastian insists. You thought he was joking, but when you looked at his face he was serious.

“I had a brownie—wait, aren’t you guys supposed to be filming?” You question the both of them.

“Something went wrong on set so now we have a few hours or something till they figure it out.” Anthony answers, scrolling through his phone. He abruptly stands up to his feet and heads towards the door. You and Seb send him a questioning look.

“I’ll be back.” With that he pulls your door open and jogs out, leaving you and Sebastian in your trailer. You decide to tune back into your class, resuming to take down notes from the slides your teacher shared. Suddenly, a large hand gets in the way of your notebook.

“Gimme that.” Sebastian takes the pencil and notebook from you, placing them on his lap and staring at your screen. His eyes scan the PowerPoint, looking for the part you left off on. He hums when he finds it and began to write the notes himself.

“What are you doing?” You raise a brow at him, scanning his appearance. He was dressed in Bucky’s clothes, minus the black and gold ‘metal’ arm. He was still sat on the arm rest, slightly slouching so he could bend down to use his lap as a table.

“I’m doing your notes for you.” He answers nonchalantly. He motions to the white take away box on your coffee table, “Eat your lunch, I got this.”

You hesitate to sit up, feeling bad that Sebastian was doing your notes. Though, he did insist on doing it and you weren’t feeling your best. After an internal argument with yourself, you decided to let it slide and let Sebastian do your notes. Besides, he looked like he was enjoying taking notes on agriculture regions and the different types of farming.

“Are you sure, Seb?” You ask him again, slowly sitting up on the couch. He responds with a distracted ‘mhm’, his eyes focused on your notebook and his tongue sticking out in concentration. You quietly thank him and get up to use the bathroom.

While you were gone doing your business, Anthony had entered your trailer again. This time he had a plate full of brownies, a medium sized cup of ice cream from the vending machine, and one of those red hot water bottles in his arms.

“Where’s the kid?” He balances the things in his arms while carefully placing the plate of brownies onto your coffee table. Anthony locates your mini fridge and stores the ice cream in the freezer.

“Bathroom.” Sebastian acknowledged, still focused on writing the notes correctly in your notebook. He made sure to write neatly and copy the way you organized your notes. Saving you the hassle of missing out on important parts of the lesson and from decoding his personally sloppy writing.

Anthony empties his pockets to reveal more of your favorite snacks from crafties and the vending machine. “So...what are you doing?”

“I’m in geography class.” Anthony snorts at his friend before taking a look at your laptop screen, “And what are y’all learning in geography class?”

“Pastoral nomadism.” Seb bluntly answers. With his arms now free of the items he brought, Anthony decided to tidy up your couch. He folded your blanket neatly, fluffed your pillows, and made space for Seb to actually sit on the couch.

“What the hell is pastoral nomadism?” Anthony thought out loud.

“It’s when people travel from place to place with domesticated animals. It’s usually practiced in dry land climates.” Sebastian explains, eyes never faltering from the screen or your notebook. Anthony let’s out a sound of approval at Seb’s explanation. When he was done cleaning up your couch, he took the white take away box and headed to your kitchen. Emptying the contents of the container onto one of your plates, heating the food up for you.

You walk into the kitchen section of your trailer, shutting the bathroom door behind you. A delicious aroma lingers in the air, your nose picks up on the smell, sending it straight to your stomach. In response, your stomach lets out a low growl, making Anthony snicker at you.

“I’m heating up the food.” Anthony mentions as you pass by him. You thank him with a small smile as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours.

“Want me to make tea or something? I heard it helps reduce the cramps.” You raise a brow at him amusingly, “Where’d you hear that?”

“I read it on Google. You know, research, gotta make sure our girl’s comfortable.” He proudly tells you. Your heart warms at the fact that both him and Seb were willingly helping you while you were in pain. The microwave dings catching both yours and Anthony’s attention.

As he gingerly takes the plate out he asks you, “You wanna eat at the table or the couch.”

“The couch, I still wanna listen in on the lesson.” For a moment you forgot that you were supposed to still be at school, taking notes, and listening to your teacher teach the lesson. You enter the living room and sit next to Seb, who’s hand was digging into your pencil case.

“Want me to take over?”

“Nah, I got it, I’m too invested to stop. Which one?” He held up three of your highlighters, one was light blue, another was a peachy pink, and the other was a typical yellow highlighter. You grin, picking the peachy pink one. He tosses the other two back into your pencil case and uncaps the highlighter. While your teacher wraps up class, he began to highlight the new terms from today’s class.

“Here ya go.” Anthony sang; grabbing a pillow, placing it onto your lap, and carefully setting the plate of chicken teriyaki fried rice on top of it. You happily thank him and began to dig in. He slumps onto the couch beside you, “Tell me if you need anything else. I’ve got ice cream in the freezer, brownies, a hot water bottle, and a whole box of tea.” He throws his arm around your shoulder, letting it rest against the back of the couch.

You pause your eating, pouting at the two men beside you, “You guys really don’t have to do this. But I appreciate it so much, thank you.”

Seb looks at you over his shoulder, sending you a sweet smile, “Anything to make you happy, fluturaș.”

Anthony squeezes your shoulder, “Anytime munchkin, starting today till you’re not a ketchup packet anymore, Seb and I’ll be your period buddies.”

You snort shaking your head at him, “Again, I appreciate it Ant, but please don’t call yourselves period buddies.”

“What’s wrong with period buddies? You’re on your period and we’re all a bunch of buddies. It makes perfect sense!” Anthony reasoned defensively. Seb looks at the both of you over his shoulder again, “I like period buddies.”

“See! Thank you.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the two. “Fine, period buddies it is.”

Your geography teacher wraps the lesson up and ends the Zoom call. Seb shuts your notebook and puts it to the side. Clapping his hands, he asks you, “Alright, what class do we have next?”

“Calculus.” You smirk, followed by the groans of Anthony and Sebastian filling your trailer.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here

Read this fic on AO3

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The following week, Azriel read Elain’s messages too many times to admit. He had answered her that “meat banjo” was, indeed, a vile word, and after that, they hadn’t really talked or texted.

He had saved her number as “Elain”, which had felt weirdly private. As if they were friends, which they were not. He was just her friendly helper, and she was his remedy for nightmares.

However, even though they didn’t know each other, Azriel felt an odd sensation in his chest when he thought about her. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he was missing her, which was absurd. But the tight little knot in his chest felt very much like longing. He tried to tell himself that this was weird and stupid. He knew that he had a crush on her (even though he hated to admit it), but he could also see that it was a pointless crush. She was an internet sensation, he was a boring IT guy. She was light and happiness and flowers, he was dark and brooding. She made people smile, he made people uncomfortable. And then there was the practical side of things. They had met on the internet. She probably lived on the other side of the country. Hell, she could even live in a different country for all he knew. She might have a partner already - it’s not like he asked. And, last but not least, she probably didn’t have a crush on him.

Before talking to her on the phone, he had just thought that she was a pretty girl that deserved kindness. But after their phone call, he had definitely developed a crush. Which was another reason why he hadn’t texted her. He didn’t want to bother her and he didn’t want to have this crush. He wanted to stop feeling like this for a girl he would never see in real life. Yet, every night before bed, he found himself on her youtube page, watching one of her many videos.

She uploaded a new video to Youtube every Friday, so when Friday came around, Azriel was itching to get home so he could go to sleep (he told himself that he was looking forward to sleeping and not to seeing her face).

However, he had an entire workday to get through first. The office was mostly an open landscape and Azriel’s desk was next to Cassian’s. The only person with his own office was Rhysand, which was fair since he was the owner of the company. At two in the afternoon, Rhys poked his head out of his office.

“You guys are still coming for dinner this weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

“I told Feyre that I would help her with the food,” Azriel continued.

Rhys looked like he was going to kiss Azriel. “Oh, god. Thank you, man. I was scared that we would have to repeat the Christmas dinner,” he said and shuddered.

Feyre hated to cook and Rhys did most of the cooking at home, but for some inexplicable reason, she always wanted to cook for holidays or family dinners. To everyone’s dismay. Christmas had been no exception. She had burned the turkey, added salt instead of sugar to the dessert and somehow managed to buy the wrong berries for her cranberry sauce. Luckily, Rhys had been prepared and bought a few frozen pizzas and some ice cream, so the day wasn’t that much of a disaster, but nobody wanted to brave Feyre’s cooking again.

“Why don’t you just cook?” Cassian asked without looking up from his screen.

“You know that she kicks me out if I so much as go near the kitchen when we have these family dinners. And since she started the hormone treatment, she has been a bit bitchy when she gets mad, so I’ll just do whatever she says.”

Azriel chuckled. He could tell from Rhysand’s tone that Feyre had been more than “a bit” bitchy.

“I don’t understand why she lets Azriel help, though…”

“Maybe because she knows that I’ll tell her to sit down with a glass of wine and a magazine, and then she can take all of the credit for the food?”

“Fair enough.” Rhys shrugged. “Just burn the food a little bit, or it won’t be believable.”

Cassian snorted. “No one would believe that something edible was made by your wife. Sorry.”

“She does make a great green smoothie, though,” Rhys grinned and held up his glass.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other and had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. The smoothie looked vile and smelled even worse.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Rhys went back to his office for an important phone call. “See you on Saturday,” he reminded them before closing the door.

Azriel and Cassian worked in silence for the remainder of the day.

When Azriel came home that evening, he made a quick pasta carbonara to eat in front of the TV. He was re-watching New Girl. It was his comfort show and absolutely nobody knew that he watched it (and had watched it multiple times). He would take that information with him to the grave. But it was fun and cute and sometimes he liked to imagine his friends as characters in the show. Cassian was probably Schmidt, because Nesta was one hundred percent Cece. Feyre was Jess, which meant that Rhys was Nick. And then there was Azriel. He wanted to say that he was a very cool character, but most characters on this show weren’t cool, and also, he was definitely Winston. Alone with a cat - sounds about right , Azriel thought to himself as he finished his bowl of pasta.

When the episode ended he just waited for the next to start. He didn’t have any plans for the night and nowhere to be. His phone vibrated where he had left it on the kitchen counter. He ignored it, feeling too lazy to get up. But then it vibrated again. With a sigh, he got up. He expected to see a text from Mor telling him to bring wine tomorrow, or maybe a strange meme from Cassian. What he didn’t expect was to see Elain’s name on his screen.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he read her messages.

Elain Hey, Shadowsinger. I’m uploading a new video soon. You should watch it!

Elain I hope that message didn’t sound creepy? I just meant that I think you might like it.

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

Azriel You didn’t sound creepy at all. Of course, I’ll watch your video. May I ask what I can expect from it?

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

Elain You can ask, but I might not tell ;)

Azriel Should I be worried?

Elain Haha, no! I think it turned out great. You were my inspiration :)

Azriel could feel himself blush. He had never been someone’s inspiration before.

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

Oh god, was that too flirty? Was the winky-face too much? He wished that he could take back the message.

Elain For tonight, yes!

Azriel stared at his phone, unsure of what to answer. Luckily, Elain wrote to him again.

Elain What are you doing tonight?

Azriel Nothing. Just eating pasta and watching TV. How about you?

Elain That sounds amazing. I have been editing this video for hours so I’m just tired and cranky, haha. I have just ordered a pizza and I think I’ll just eat it in bed as soon as this video has finished uploading. What did you watch?

Azriel If I told you, I would have to kill you.

Elain Oh, intriguing! Is it trashy drama? I bet it’s Grey’s anatomy! Or maybe… Love Island?

Azriel stared at his phone. Did she really think that he would watch something like Love Island?

Azriel I watched New Girl, okay. Don’t tell anyone.

Elain Your secret is safe with me! Also, I love New Girl! Especially Winston!

It felt as if someone was squeezing Azriel’s heart.

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

Elain My pizza is here so I am going to put all of my electronics in a different room and eat my pizza while reading a good book. It was great talking to you, Azriel! Please tell me what you thought of the video when you have watched it.

Elain Oh, and I would probably be Winston’s cat. lol

Azriel almost dropped his phone. If he had to be alone with a cat for the rest of his life, he would definitely want Elain to be his cat , he thought to himself. Which was a weird thing to think about someone you didn’t know. Azriel dropped his head to his kitchen counter and took a deep breath before replying.

Azriel It was great talking to you too, Elain. Enjoy your dinner and your book :)

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Azriel was going to be thinking about her for the rest of the night anyway.

30 minutes later, he got a notification telling him that Flower Girl ASMR had uploaded a new video. The video was called “ASMR for IT-guys”, which made him chuckle. He clicked the video and Elain’s beautiful face filled his screen again.

“Hello, my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered in her microphone. “This week’s video will be a bit different,” she continued, slowly moving her hands in front of the camera. “This video was inspired by my friend who recently helped me with some computer-related issues, issues, issues.”

Azriel loved it when she repeated words like that. And he liked that he somehow was a part of this video. It was something that connected them. Azriel paused the video and got into bed, knowing fully well that he would probably fall asleep soon if he kept watching this.

He pressed play again. “So, today, I thought that we would try a few computer-related triggers. I have a keyboard here,” she said and started typing on a keyboard that was out of view. “I thought that I would say a few trigger words while typing them.”

She smiled at the camera and pressed a few more keys. “I just wrote my friend’s name, but you won’t get to know who he is. But you know who you are. Thank you for your help!”

Azriel felt all warm inside.

She continued the video. “The first trigger word is IP address ”. Azriel laughed as she repeated the word multiple times while typing quickly.

“And then we have, laptop, laptop, laptop,” she continued, and Azriel felt shivers go down his spine when she popped the p’s.

Azriel had never thought that he would fall asleep to someone whispering “HTML coding” in his ears, but here he was. Relaxed and ready to sleep.

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day, Azriel texted Elain that he had loved the video. He waited for hours, but no reply came. Maybe she just wanted to repay me for helping her? Azriel thought. Maybe she would stop talking to him now that he had seen the video.

The thought of never talking to Elain again made him feel a new kind of ache in his chest. An ache he didn’t want to feel. This stupid crush needs to end, he muttered to himself as he started to scrub his kitchen counter. He tried to ignore the feeling by keeping busy. He cleaned his apartment and did some laundry before heading over to his friends’ house.

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

“She started cooking like 15 minutes ago, please save whatever can be saved,” he whispered to Azriel. Azriel chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. On the way there, he passed the living room and stopped to greet his friends. He saw most of them on a daily basis because of work, but he was still happy to see them. Cassian and his fiancée Nesta sat close together on one of the green velvet couches. On the opposite couch sat Mor and Amren. Mor was one of the journalists at Velaris News, and Amren was an editor. They had known each other for years. Amren and Rhys had studied together at university, and Mor was Rhysand’s cousin. Once upon a time, Azriel had a crush on Mor. One night after one too many glasses at Rita’s he confessed his feelings to her and she had looked horrified. He had expected her to tell him that she didn’t fancy him and leave it at that, but instead, she had blurted “I like girls!”

Azriel was the first person she ever came out to, and he had felt honored. He also knew now that they wouldn’t have worked out together in the long run (even if Mor had been straight). They were just too different. She was energetic and outgoing and fun, he needed peace and quiet. But she was still one of his very best friends.

Amren on the other hand, he didn’t know as well. She had always been very private, but she was damn good at her job.

“Where’s Varian tonight?” Azriel asked Amren, trying to make small talk.

“How should I know?” she answered quickly. “I’m not his mother.”

Cassian stared at her. “But you are his girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to label things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. Amren had lived with Varian for the past two years, but she was still reluctant to tell anyone about their relationship.

Azriel made his way into the kitchen, and from what he could tell, he made it just in time.

“What are you making, Feyre?” he asked, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell.

Feyre turned around quickly as if he had startled her. “Oh, hi Az,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Something was burning.

“I was trying to make lamb chops with glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and salsa verde, but…” she gestured to the stove, which looked like a disaster.

Azriel chuckled. “That’s ambitious.” He lifted the lid from one of the pots and could clearly see that she had overcooked the lamb 10 minutes ago. Also, why had she made them in a pot, and not a frying pan? It would be inedible.

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

She gave him a strained smile. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Azriel put the grocery bag he had brought with him on the kitchen island. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

“Please, for the love of god, let Rhys cook when we come over. You really don’t have to show off. You are good at many things, Feyre. But cooking is unfortunately not one of them.”

She nodded. “I know,” she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and buried her face in her hand. “I just...I need to be able to cook when I become a mother.”

Azriel took her hand in his. “You really don’t. Nobody expect fathers to be good at cooking, so why should every mother be good at it? Honestly, just let Rhys cook while you play with the kids.”

She smiled at him. “That actually sounds amazing,” she sighed.

“Right?”

Azriel started to pull out some ingredients from the bag on the kitchen island. He held up the tomatoes and the spaghetti, “How about some pasta arrabbiata with burrata?”

“Sounds fancy.”

He shrugged. “Everything sounds fancier in a different language. It’s just pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and burrata on top.”

“Whatever you make will probably be better than that mess,” she said and glanced towards the stove. Azriel couldn’t disagree.

“Probably,” he laughed and got to work. Azriel placed all the pots and pans in the sink and started chopping the vegetables for the sauce, and in just 30 minutes, dinner was served.

“You are my hero,” Feyre said and kissed his cheek as she carried the big bowl of pasta to the dining room.

Everyone had already gathered around the table, wine glasses in hand. As Azriel sat down, Mor poured him some wine.

“This looks amazing,” Nesta said and Cassian nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Az helped a little,” Feyre said and winked at Azriel.

“Just a bit,” Azriel said and took a sip of wine.

The conversation (and wine) flowed freely, as it always did. Cassian and Nesta told them about their wedding plans, Mor gushed about Emerie, a girl she was dating, and Feyre told them about life as a high school art teacher. Azriel would never understand how anyone could choose to spend their days with teenagers, but Feyre loved it.

After two bottles of wine, Nesta and Mor were in an argument about which animal was the cutest.

“No, I am telling you, Sloths are cuter than any animal ever,” Mor exclaimed. “Have you seen their dopey little faces?”

“Sloths? Really?” Nesta looked at her as if she had suggested that the sky was green. “Red pandas are way cuter! They are cute and cuddly, Sloths just look like every single stoner I went to high school with.”

They had been at it for 10 minutes, which Azriel found to be quite impressive.

“Can you both just shut up?” Amren gritted out. “The cutest animals are koalas. They’re even cute when they fight. I am right, you are wrong. Please stop this meaningless discussion before I die from boredom.”

Nesta and Mor looked at Amren, and then at each other.

“We obviously have to see Koalas fight if you want us to end this conversation,” Mor said.

Nesta nodded. “Obviously. Give me your phone, Az,” she said and reached for his phone.

“Why do you need my phone?”

“Because mine is dead and yours is right there on the table. Also, your screen is big and we need to watch this in full HD, for obvious reasons.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, unlocked his phone, and handed it to Nesta.

She clicked the Youtube app, and then her face fell. She looked at Azriel as if he was an alien, and then she showed the phone to Cassian who looked at him with the same facial expression.

What the hell had they found?

He didn’t have anything weird on his phone. And he sure as hell didn’t watch porn on it.

“What?” Azriel asked, and Nesta turned the phone.

Fuck. The last video he had watched was still loaded on Youtube, and of course, it was Elain’s latest video.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta asked, almost looking angry.

Azriel didn’t understand why she found ASMR so wrong, but he desperately wanted to explain himself.

“Well, it’s ASMR. It’s kind of… well, it’s hard to explain, but it helps me sleep and– “

Nesta interrupted him before he could finish. “I know what ASMR is. I am wondering why you are watching Elain?”

Azriel stared at Nesta in shock. Did she also like Elain’s videos? But that wouldn’t explain the anger and confusion.

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

“Yes, we went to university together. She’s our florist for the wedding. She was the florist at their wedding, too,” Nesta answered and gestured towards Rhys and Feyre. “Surely you have met her?”

Azriel could do nothing but shake his head in confusion. If he had ever met Elain, he would have known. You didn’t forget a face like hers.

“Please tell me you’re not stalking her like some creep, Az. Honestly, her last boyfriend was the world’s biggest asshat.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Azriel blurted out. “I’m just watching her videos to fall asleep, I promise. I– I didn’t know that you knew her.”

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “So, is this just a coincidence?”

He nodded. “Weirder things have happened,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nesta glanced at Cassian, and then back at Azriel. “Fine,” she said after a small eternity. “You would probably be cute together anyway. Sorry for insinuating that you would be a stalker.” She really did look remorseful. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just very protective of her. She’s the nicest girl, but she has horrendous taste in men.”

Azriel couldn’t answer, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Nesta said that they would be cute together. He wanted to ask Nesta why she thought that. He kind of also wanted to ask her if Elain lived here in Velaris, and what her favorite movie was, and if she, by any chance, had a boyfriend. But he refrained, he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

“So, what the fuck is ASMR?” Cassian asked. “Is it like porn?”

Before Azriel could answer, Rhys said “It’s like porn for your ears, I guess,” and then the entire table was laughing.

“Nesta,” Feyre said when the laughter had died down. “Does Elain still have that cute, little shop on River Street?”

“Mhm,” Nesta answered and took a sip of her wine.

Azriel could kiss Feyre for asking. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her wink in his direction before raising her water glass to her lips.

Azriel walked home that evening with a million thoughts in his head.

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

River Street was literally a 10-minute walk from his home.

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

Just because they were in the same city, it didn’t mean that they would ever meet.

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Elain I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you earlier. I’ve been at work all day. We had a leak in the basement and everything was just chaos. I haven’t even checked my phone until now.

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

Elain Yes! But so many flowers were ruined (I’m a florist) and I had to remake a few arrangements for a wedding that’s coming up.

Elain I’m sorry. You probably don’t care. I’m happy that you liked the video :)

Azriel wanted to tell her that he did care. That everything she said was interesting to him. He would probably even find her Starbucks order fascinating. But that bordered on stalker behavior.

Azriel Again, no worries! Sometimes when you’ve had a bad day, you just need someone to vent to.

Elain Exactly! Thank you for letting me vent :) This day is finally over!

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

Elain was standing in front of a big window surrounded by flowers. She was wearing a white, oversized shirt and her hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired but happy. She was giving him ‘thumbs up’ in the photo and through the window, he could see the Sidra. They were indeed in the same city. It made him both happy and nervous.

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

Azriel received that last message when he walked through the door to his apartment. What the hell was he supposed to answer?

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

So he took a deep breath and gathered all his courage.

Azriel You still look beautiful though

He stared at his phone. Would she answer? Would she block him? Would she tell him to stop being a creep?

Elain Thank you :) What do you look like? I might have forgotten ;)

Okay. That was flirty. Even Azriel could tell that that was a flirty text message, and he was usually oblivious to such things. He quickly walked to his bathroom (it was the room with the best lighting). He checked his shirt (no stains) and mussed with his hair.

“Good enough,” he muttered, and snapped a selfie.

Before he could chicken out, he sent it to her.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

[honey-hippie-harper]

In-Laws Being In-Laws (Re-upload)

 Hiii!

So, this is basically an old fic, which I deleted from my other account ( @dawniebb ) and was requested to be uploaded again.

This feels like a lifetime ago afgshjka, but I remember it was written for a Renegades content swap event, and it was for @healing-winston-pratt (hello, wifey!). The prompt was, basically, Nova and one of the Renegays being in-laws, and it was super fun to write! <3

If anyone’s reading this: Hi, you’re a beautiful human being, and I love you <3

In-Laws Being In-Laws

Dear Dread Warden,

I am not quite sure you will get this message because it is been a while since I last used my communicator but, in case you do: I  hope you are having a nice morning. 

The reason I am writing you this is that, as you must already be aware, right now Sketch and his teammates are taking part in the Annual Renegade Convention as special guests to be awarded for their heroic participation in the Second Battle for Gatlon. Hence, they are out of town. Due to my temporary resignation from the team, I declined the offer to attend the event and, for instance, to receive an award. This means that, unlike theirs, my routine remains the same as usual.

Unfortunately, I must see my therapist for my weekly appointment in two hours, and after that I will have to go to the supermarket to pick up some groceries and essential items. Under normal circumstances, given the nature of my relationship with Sketch, he would have driven me to the supermarket and then back to my apartment, as it happens to be located sort of far from the store and it could be pretty difficult for me to walk while carrying all those bags. However, as mentioned before, these are not normal circumstances and Sketch is not currently available.

I reach out to you with no intention to cause trouble; for instance, if I happen to be asking too much or disrupting your schedule (As I am conscious you are a busy person) and you consider you will not be able to help me, I assure you I completely understand. But: Could you pick me up from my therapist's office and take me to the supermarket afterwards?

I apologize for the inconvenience and I promise I will make sure this does not happen again. In addition, I also apologize for the alliteration in the greeting at the beginning of this message. I did not know whether you wanted to be acknowledged by your real name or your alias.

Sincerely,

Insomnia.

-.-

Hi, Insomnia!!!

So nice to see you!... Or should I say read you! Ha! It's been so long, it almost feels like an eternity! I hope therapy is going great! (We're all really proud of you!)

It doesn't bother me at all, sweetheart; of course I'll help you with that. Could you share the location of your therapist's office, please?

Oh, and also: What time do you want me to be there? (Not that I have anything to do today, I just want to be on time).  

I'm excited to see you! Can I take you to eat something afterwards? How does that sound?

Take care!

(Agh. I forgot these things don't actually allow you to write your real  name).

-S i m o n.

(Better).

-.-

He spotted Nova way before parking. She was sitting on a bench outside the building, staring anxiously at her phone. The body language of a nervous person.

Simon stopped the car right in front of where she was, and when she realized he was already here, Nova jumped out of her seat as if it had burned her skin, before jogging in an awkward manner towards the car.

Once she was inside, Simon couldn't help but feel a twinge in his stomach. He wasn't lying when he told her he was excited to see her. In fact, he was more than excited, and he had to hold himself back pretty hard to avoid hugging her, because it was evident she didn't want to be hugged right now, for she just directed a tiny smile at him and said:

"Hi."

She was the same Nova he had met some time ago, but at the same time she was different; she was wearing sneakers, skinny jeans and a basic white v-neck shirt; her hair was a little longer, too, to the point she could tie it in a cute little ponytail; Simon could tell she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but still her face looked healthier than before; less tired, with smaller under-eye dark circles and lips covered in chapstick. Finally.

She looked alive. More than before.

“Hi.” He finally responded.

Watching people get better was always satisfactory, but watching Nova get better was different. He had grown to appreciate her, since the very first moment he saw her with Adrian; since the very first moment he spoke to her and saw nothing but utter heartbreak in her eyes. Nova was hurting, and any sensitive person would’ve noticed that. So, watching her get better was a touching experience for him.

“You look so…”

Nova interrupted him almost immediately.

“I know. I...I barely had time to fix my hair. Gosh. It’s so uncomfortable and I want to cut it but I haven’t had time. I…”

“Oh, no, no, no! Your hair looks gorgeous! “ He chuckled, although he was confused by her reaction. “I was gonna say you look really good. Really, really good. The ponytail looks great on you.”

Nova gulped as she adjusted said ponytail.

“Oh.” She muttered in a hoarse voice. “...Well...Thank you. I thought…”

“No, no.” Simon waved his hand. “You look great. How.... how are you?”

She seemed to be processing the question, even though it was not that difficult.

“I’m…” Nova cleared her throat. “I’m doing great. How are you? How’s ...life going?”

“Absolutely great!” Simon smiled, clapping his hands together. “Things at home are great. You know, Hugh’s not currently here due to the Annual Renegade Convention. Adrian’s not here either (for sure, you already know about that) and Max…”

“Max went too, yeah.” Nova smiled. Her eyes seemed to brighten to the mention of Max’s name. Adrian had mentioned this fact about her a couple of times: Nova was fond of children. And even if she wasn’t, she had a tendency to protect and care about them. Since she had this type of strong personality, Hugh refused to recognize that as a truth, but Simon had no trouble believing it.

It was adorable.

“He called me when he got the invitation. He was eager to go.” She continued. “Which doesn’t surprise me. I...It’s his first time travelling, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Responded Simon. “We’re planning to go on vacation this year. Because, you know, the convention’s being held not too far away from Gatlon and sadly he’s probably gonna get bored.”

“Bored?” Nova shifted herself in the seat, awkwardly. “Why?”

“Well...those conventions are...well, conventions.” Simon shrugged, smiling at her. “There are a lot of speeches, one after the other and, sure, the guests that represent Gatlon can skip some of them, but others are mandatory and they’re like 2 hours long and it’s so boring and…”

Nova hissed, grimacing, to which Simon nodded in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t have to go.” He admitted. “Though I do wanted to be there when Adrian and Max received their award. Too sad.”

Nova tried to speak a couple of times, until she finally had found the correct words to said her thoughts out loud.

“Why...why didn’t you go, then?”

“About that.” Simon chuckled. “Tamaya is going to be there too, as a speaker. And she’s also receiving an award. So...somebody had to take care of the Headquarters and Kasumi and I were left with that responsibility. However, it’s been pretty peaceful, as you may have noticed.”

“I have.” Nova nodded. “Not that I...go out very much, but yeah. Things have been calm.”

“People are behaving for once. And it’s awesome.” he sighed.

Then they stayed in silence. For a while.

Nova stared out the window, avoiding eye contact, while Simon whistled as he tapped his fingers on the wheel.

Not a word. No small talk.

Nothing.

“Sooooo…” Said Simon. “Shall we go?”

“Perhaps we should.” Nova said, immediately, as a flash of relief crossed her face.

So Simon smiled at her once again as he turned on the engine, while Nova put on her seatbelt next to him.

-.-

It took her so little time to come back Simon confirmed she was one of those people who would strategically write their shopping list so they wouldn’t be going back and forth through the aisles. It also surprised him that, being a person so young, she was so...focused on everything.

She really had only bought groceries and essential items. No junk food. No silly things she swore she would need and then she didn’t. Not even candy from the checkout area.

Simon hurried himself out of the car to help her put the bags in the trunk, but once she saw him and guessed his intentions, she quickly said:

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“I know you can.” He clarified. Because, well, she indeed was a strong person. “But maybe you could use some help. That’s...a couple of bags.”

“Yeah. I know.” Nova nodded, already carrying the first two of the bags. “But I can do it. Please. I’m already causing you too much trouble.”

Simon was yet again confused by her reaction, and he tried to talk to her about it. But just like Nova looked like she didn’t want to be hugged right now, she also looked like she didn’t want to talk about it right now.

So he just opened the trunk for her and held it in case it would go down by its own. It had never happened, but just to be sure. Sometimes Simon’s anxiety made him overanalyze some situations.

Less than 10 minutes had passed by the time Nova finished putting all her stuff in the car, Simon figured she was still training, since she was as agile and fast as she was the day she notified them she would be taking some time off from the team and the Renegades in general.

They got in the car again, and before the silence could get as uncomfortable as the previous one, Simon took the initiative to speak.

“I think...you forgot to answer a part of my message.” He said, carefully. “You know...the part where I told you that maybe we could...go to a restaurant or something?”

Nova’s face, ears and neck turned so red she became a human-shaped cherry, and although in other circumstances he would’ve considered it adorable, this time he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. He had been there and done that many times; the messages Nova had sent were peak odd. The type of messages one would overthink over and over again because they had to be perfect. And if something, anything sounded off after you sent it, your world would be in shambles.

So he just smiled to assure it was okay. That he didn’t mind. That those messages didn’t have to be so formal in the first place.

And that, obviously, didn’t work.

For his experience, it never did.

“I...I...Yeah.” Nova scratched her brow. “Pretty much I...I...can recall not knowing how to word that so I just left it blank and I...must’ve forgotten to…”

“Nova.” Simon said, softly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“Did I...offend you or something?”

“Absolutely no!” He said. “Why would you think that? It’s just a slip. I know it wasn’t your intention and to be honest I still want to take you to eat something so...yeah, there’s no reason to get weird about this. There’s no need to worry.”

Nova took a deep, hasty breath. She was flustered, son Simon tried to keep her calm; to make her feel like she was in a safe environment.

Why wouldn’t she be, in the first place?

She was his son’s girlfriend.

Why would he want to hurt her or make her feel bad?

“Nova, darling.” He said again. “Do you have something on your mind?”

“I do.” Nova cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t really...can eat out right now. I barely manage to afford my groceries, you know? It’s been…”

“But you’re not gonna pay your own bill. I mean, why would you do that?” Simon raised an eyebrow at her, genuinely confused, but still laughing nervously. Sweet rot, who had hurt this child so much? “ I’m the one who’s taking you to eat. You wouldn’t have to…”

“You don’t have to either!” She snapped. Not mad, but rather distressed, while breathing heavily.

Simon went still, afraid he would make it worse. Still, he couldn’t leave it like that, so he gulped and, once he reunited enough courage, he dared to speak again.

“What’s really on your mind, Nova?” He asked, this time in a more soothing voice. Nova’s whole being went red again, but the shadow of confusion in her expression was noticeable and hard to ignore. For this reason, Simon decided to provide some kind of scaffolding.

“For example: Why would you write a message that is directed to me in such a formal way?” He asked, patiently. “Why would you ask me to pick you up as if you were asking me to help you commit a crime? Why would you act so uncomfortable around me when it’s not the first time that we’ve met? Why would you…?”

“Because it’s you.” Nova answered, avoiding eye contact.

And he expected that answer, yes. But, at the same time, he expected to understand the statement once it slipped out of her mouth.

However, he didn’t.

“Can you elaborate?” He requested.

Nova clicked her tongue as she rubbed her neck, staring at the dash right in front of her.

“...I can disappear if you want me to. Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

“No. No, no.” Nova nodded, waving her hands, finally looking at him. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Then...would you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nova thought about it. She squirmed in her seat. Gulped. Coughed. Squirmed again.

Then, playing with her own hands, she spoke.

“...I’m ashamed.”

“Ashamed of what…?” Simon tilted his head to the side. “Ashamed of who…? What exactly are you ashamed of? ...Dating Adrian?”

Nova flinched.

“I would never.”

A spark of pride illuminated his thoughts and his insides in general, but Simon tried to pay little attention to it.

“I’m just...ashamed. Of everything.” Nova said, sighing. “I…”

And she cut herself in the middle of the phrase, realizing that once again she wouldn’t be able to finish it.

Simon didn’t realize he was frowning until he felt the muscles of his face slowly giving in. He understood.

And he knew that anything that had happened during the Second Battle for Gatlon had been her fault. She might have contributed in some way but, at the end of the day, she was just a child.

A very confused and manipulated child who just needed someone to listen without twisting her words as they pleased.

“...I just think that...if I were you I wouldn’t like me either.” She wasn’t crying, nor did she sound like she was about to any time soon. There was so much resignation in her voice that her words weighted as much as a giant rock. “Hugh gave me his blessing to...you know, date Adrian…”

“I can recall giving you my blessing too.”

Nova tripped on her own words.

“I mean, you did. You both did.” She said. “But still… It’s because… because you want him to be happy. And I get it. I really do. And I understand because, like I said, I wouldn’t like me either...I know I am loved. I know I matter for some people...but I also know I did...bad things, and I carry this sort of cursed last name…”

She stopped and breathed for a second before continuing.

“And I…” She finally looked at him. “I get it. You don’t have to pretend you like me, after all that happened. After I stole stuff from your house; infiltrated into your system; caused a terrorist attack...You really don’t have to pretend.”

Simon blinked, and if it wasn’t for her specific and controlled body language, he would’ve thought she was making excuses or even joking.

But Nova was telling the truth.

And it was heartbreaking.

“Perhaps you should think outside the box and picture a scenario in which you realize we’re not pretending.” That’s the only thing he said.

“Perhaps you should realize that we love you and you matter to us.” He reached for her hand and softly touched her knuckles. Her hands were shaking. “And that, yes, we want Adrian to be happy, but we also want you to be happy.”

Nova’s eyes seemed to be covered in crystals, but she remained in silence.

“You’re part of this family now, Nova.” He smiled. “And I’m sorry, but you’ll have to deal with that.”

Nova sniffed, swallowing, while lacing her hand into Simon’s.

“Artino and everything?” She muttered.

“Artino it’s not what defines you.” Simon chuckled. “You’re Nova. Just Nova... And we’re really proud of you. Not ashamed.”

She smiled back at him, wordless, and Simon gave her a quick handshake before putting his hands around the wheel.

Because even now, that her walls were crumbling right before her eyes, she didn’t look like someone who wanted to be hugged at the moment, and he accepted and respected that.

“I was planning to take you to my favorite restaurant, but maybe we can prepare a homemade meal instead?” He suggested. “You know? In-laws being in-laws? … Not to brag, but I make the best lemon pie in the world.”

Nova chuckled. Relaxed.

Happy.

“Sounds great.” She said, nodding.

“Excellent.” Simon turned on the engine.

“Let’s go home.”

[hongnanglen-arina]

ASMR | Kwon Soonyoung/Hoshi

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Hoshi x fem reader

Warnings: sexual content

Words: 3.6k

A/N: Hi there! Before my angsty Shua fic will drop, have this one first hehe. As always, English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

Your ASMR blog was well known. It was your hobby.

At least twice a week there was an update for your followers.

If people were asked about ASMR, they would think of mukbang first, right?

But your blog offered a different kind of ASMR.

No one knew who you were in reality except your closest friends. And of course, your boyfriend.

There was never a video. Just sound. Of you having fun.

Getting out of the shower, all nice and clean was the best feeling. Or was it to reach your orgasm after a long denial? You stopped midway to your bedroom, coke in one hand as you cocked your head to the side, not sure which one was better. There were often such dialogues going on in your head. It just showed you how crazy your mind was. Not only did you look sweet and innocent to everyone who didn’t know you and saw you on the street but deep inside you were a kinky little vixen which your friends and boyfriend knew.

You took a big gulp of your drink and hummed happily. Your boyfriend should arrive at any minute. Today was another special schedule for your blog. 

When you sat down in front of your laptop, you opened your blog. After stating it, you’ve gotten a lot of followers. Some even called themselves fans. It always made you giggle. How could anyone be a fan of just a voice? Because no one had ever seen your face nor real name on the internet. For you it was funny especially reading that they used your audio recordings for other purposes. Dirty purposes.

You loved to scroll through the comment section of your blog. Reading all those filthy confessions often turned you on for another recording. Also it gave you a boost in confidence.

Speaking of your recordings. The audio files that you uploaded on your site were recordings of you pleasuring yourself. Moaning into the microphone or cursing how good it felt. There were never names, long dialogues or any other interactions with the people you uploaded it for.

Since you’ve started, you had a total of 86 files online and over 40 saved on your hard drive that you still had to edit. Why you were doing it? Maybe for the kick. The fact to know that people would hear how you were climbing up the ladder to your orgasm really heightened the pleasure. And it satisfied you a lot, every time you read the comments cheering you on.

The day you uploaded a file of you and your boyfriend having sex, your blog nearly exploded. The reason why he was included was because he just lost a bet at a party with your friends. Everyone was already drunk when a table tennis session began and Soonyoung was more than sure to win against Jun. If Jun had lost, he had to run down the street in the middle of the night, naked and meowing loudly. But as much as you would have loved to see that happening, your boyfriend Soonyoung lost, making him automatically the next special surprise on your blog. 

Yes, your best friends knew about your hobby. Some had listened to your recordings and at the beginning your friendship was a little strange. Especially with Minghao, who was forced to listen when his roommate started one of the files. He always avoided eye contact with you but when you got together with Soonyoung, it slowly became better. And now, almost a year later, they all had gotten used to it and even made fun about your blog from time to time or teased you. But better like this than being confronted with a shy and awkward Minghao again.

Yesterday you announced the special surprise what you were going to record today and promised the file to be up by next sunday. And as always with your couple recordings, the comment section went wild. Some of them gave Soonyoung the nickname ‘tiger’ because sometimes he would make similar noises all of a sudden. He gave that nickname his approval and you knew how much he loved it as he called himself like that ever since.

You giggled at the comments while you were waiting for your boyfriend to arrive.

- The return of the tiger! Raise your hands y’all!!

- He should be in it more often. God he sounds so fucking hot!

- Hearing you two together is so filthy. I love it!!

- Can he tease you until you are a mess again and beg?

- Can’t wait for his raspy rawwwwrrrs hehe (;

- How about you edge him this time??? Pretty please?

Hearing the keys, you quickly got up and ran towards the door to see Soonyoung standing there dressed in all black, pushing his shoes to the side with one foot and taking off his black snapback. Biting your lower lip, you hissed softly, locking eyes with him.

“Okay, damn.. you look hot.”

“When don’t I?”

You snorted playfully but made your way closer to him anyways, immediately being pulled in a deep kiss. One hand held you close against his chest while the other squeezed your ass, you felt him smirk against your lips. “Hope my little kitten is ready for her tiger.” The grip on his leather jacket tightened when his teeth grazed your neck, sucking your sensitive spot just below your ear. “Always,” you sighted with closed eyes.

“Good.” He pulled back, licking his lips as he took your hand and led you to the bedroom.

Following him, he made you sit on the bed as he opened the recording program on your laptop. In the past, he often made it for you so he knew where to click. Adjusting the microphone beside the bed, he made sure that it was working before joining you.

You saw the red light on your microphone and smiled at him approvingly, giving him a quick kiss as a reward. When you are about to pull away, he grabbed your hip and held you in place, connecting your lips with his again. Effortless his tongue slipped past through your teeth as you gasped, his hand massaging your exposed thigh.

Actually, your plan was to tease him first and then to make him lose his mind while he’s tied up on your bed but the way your boyfriend was kissing you right now made you weak and unable to stick to your previous plan. His musky perfume filled your senses, combined with his tongue dancing with yours, it made you breathless. He was needy and so were you.

Pushing him back against the headboard, he looked at you, mouth open and chest heaving slightly, eyes hooded. You smiled and removed the leather jacket and black turtle neck, leaving his dark hair messy and in this very moment he looked adorable to you if it wasn’t for his eyes which gave you a lustful gaze. Leaving your eyes roam over his exposed chest and abs, you asked yourself how you had survived all those years without your boyfriend.

You were on your knees in front of him, dressed in a short silky negligee. Soonyoung groaned at the sight of you. “Help me out of my pants and sit on my lap, baby.” Your eyes widened and you automatically covered his lips with your hand but he only lifted one eye brow and shrugged. Normally you wouldn’t give long commands like this but that meant you may have to cut it out of the recording later. Or not. Doing what you were told, your fingers opened his denim jeans and pulled them off his legs.

A shuffling of the blankets can be heard and you sat down on his lap, your hands on his shoulders as you sink down, feeling his warmth against your core. You felt the urge to move but you wanted to get your approval first. Normally you were more the submissive type of girl in the relationship with Soonyoung but once in a while he would gave you the control. Today didn’t seem like this when his hands were back on your hips, making you move back and forth on him.

“O-ohh..” was all you said, staggered and weak, feeling his clothed cock rub against the thin fabrics of your already wet panties. Continuing on moving on him, you kept eye contact with your boyfriend whose lifted one hand to brush lovingly over your cheek, mouthing ‘i love you’. You smiled and silently said it back before leaning in to kiss him again. 

One thing you loved a lot during foreplay was when Soonyoung massaged your ass. How he roughly kneaded the flesh and spread the cheeks, causing your folds to spread as well. And the feeling of them being slick and sticky while he would do that, turned you on. On top of that you were sitting on his lap at the moment, riding him, knowing too well that with each passing second, your juice would soak his underwear more and more. 

Holding your face in place, his kisses went from the corner of your mouth to your blushed cheek, further to your earlobe and lower to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere his mouth would reach, sometimes sucking softly at the spots he knew you liked, resulting him to receive moans from his girlfriend. He wanted your reactions to be louder. Not only for the recording but also for himself. He just needed the confirmation that he was doing the right thing. While Soonyoung bit down on your shoulder, his hand left your face and before you could ask, his thumb hook under the strap of your negligee, letting it slid down your arm and exposing your breast. He placed his hand on your mound and started kneading it.

Gasping, your hands found his hair and while your hips were still rocking back and forth on him, you tugged at his strands, causing him to let out a low groan. You felt his fingertips pinch your nipple and you arched your back, asking for more as your chest pushed into his hand. Soonyoung smirked against your collarbone and without a warning, he smacked your ass, filling the room with a loud sound and followed by your surprised yelp.

You had to stop yourself from saying your boyfriend’s name out loud. Soonyoung noticed it and chuckled before grabbing the hem of your soft gown and pulling it over your head. The moment the cold room temperature made contact with your heated body, a cold shiver ran down your spine and Soonyoung watched how your nipples slowly hardened at the cold air. Carefully taking one of your arms, he kissed over your goosebumps, his eyes telling you that you won’t feel cold much longer and you gave him a nod.

He motioned you to get up so that you two could remove the last piece of clothes on your bodies. Once it was done, you got a condom from the night stand but when you started to rip it open, you heard your boyfriend make a disapproving noise. “Uh uh….” pointing at his lap, he wanted you to sit down again. Without aligning himself, you got into your previous position and moved your hips again but now the feeling was more intense without the fabrics in the way. Letting your wet folds spread your juice along his erect cock felt amazing. 

Faint curses left both of your lips as his grip on your ass tighten, spreading your cheeks again and with every motion, you felt your clit rub delicately against his pelvis. While your body shivered with pleasure, Soonyoung enjoyed the view you were offering his dark eyes. He could watch you like this all the time and he really loved the soft mewls you made for him.

Whenever he was alone at his home and felt horny, he would open your blog on his phone and listen to one of your recordings as he would pump himself. He saved two of you getting off with a vibrator. Those recordings were gold in his opinion because the microphone seemed right beside your mouth so the sound from the toy wasn’t too loud and he could enjoy your moans to the fullest. Although those recordings would often be very short because of course you knew the best where to stimulate to get off. And if you reached your orgasm fast, he knew how horny you were since you were bad in edging yourself. You were too weak. Whenever you wanted something, you wanted it as soon as possible. The only person who could tease you and still hear a sincere ‘I love you’ afterwards was him. Only him. 

With another smack on your ass, his hands found their way to your chest, now massaging your breasts with both hands and connecting your mouthes again. Taking your lower lip between his teeth, he groaned lowly, heightening your arousal even more. 

“Ahh… baby….” you whined as you wanted more, still thinking of the condom beside your leg that was halfway ripped open. Soonyoung didn’t have to ask because he knew exactly what you wanted. Even though he wanted to tease you more, he felt a little impatient himself so he took the foil package and ripped it open. 

Hearing it, you automatically stopped and lifted yourself so he could put the condom on. Seeing him do that, your mouth watered. You felt thankful that Soonyoung chose not to tease you today. You wanted to feel the delicious stretch and now you could finally get it. 

“Get it, kitten.” He licked his lip while pumping himself, waiting for you to move and sink down on him. You didn’t need another word from him as you quickly moved and shuddered when the tip of his cock nudged your entrance, holding tightly onto his shoulders. You swallowed thickly before moving a little lower, feeling the head push in and out a little. It was like an unspoken ritual between the two of you. A little taste of what was to come. After a couple of seconds, you finally sank down on him with a high pitched gasp. Soonyoung let his head rest on the headboard, his neck on full display for you as you saw his adam’s apple bob up and down. He tried his best to suppress his swearings. No matter how often you two fucked each other, he would never get enough of this feeling. The feeling of your bodies being intertwined. Connected in the best way possible. 

He couldn’t explain how you would still be this tight even after your longest session of 3 hours a year ago. Long teasing, long edging, the roles switched several times, there was the use of different toys, even a bigger dildo than his size but your walls would still swallow his cock the same way it did when you two had your first time. 

After adjusting to him, you started riding him, switching from jumping up and down and rocking back and forth whenever your thighs started to burn. You put your hands on his chest and slowly scratched over it with your fingernails, causing him to snap his head and look at you with such a dark expression that you could have come right then and there. His eyes were half covered with his bangs as his eyes traveled lower to your breasts, leaning forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth and immediately sucking at it harshly, making you moan and wrapping your arms around his head. His other hand was pinching your other nipple and you had a difficult time to keep your rhythm. 

You felt your sensitive nub rub against Soonyoung’s pelvis and the familiar fire became stronger. “F-fuck… just like that.” You couldn’t recognize your own voice. It was much higher. And then again, originally you wanted to have control today. You would agree instantly if anyone would ask you if you were sex addicted. Because sex with Soonyoung was the best you’ve ever had. He always made sure that you felt the same pleasure as him. That you would come the same amount as him or even more often. He wasn’t selfish at all and loved to make you feel good.

He bit down on your mound, making you whine surprised when suddenly he flipped you over so he was now hovering over you, smirking down. His lustful gaze made you instinctually press your thighs together to feel some friction but you couldn’t since his legs were between them. Carefully taking your hands and placing them above your head, he held them secure with one arm as he slowly pushed inside of you again. Your moans were swallowed in a heated kiss, Soonyoung didn’t waste any time because he instantly moved in and out if you, giving the penetration you needed and could never do the same when you were on top. It was less friction on your clit but when he wanted, he would hit that specific spot deep within that made you see stars. But for that, he had to thrust upwards a little.

The room was filled with noises of skin smacking against skin, your whines and his low moans. Also the bed which was slightly squeaking with every hard thrust. His cock slid in and out of your warm walls like the missing piece of a jigsaw. He fit perfectly and knew how to make you lose your mind. 2 years ago he told you that he could make you come without moving inside of you and he succeeded. First you were laughing over his words but when he continued to whisper filthy things in your ear, you got more and more aroused until you came with a high pitched scream of his name. He owned such power over you.

The moment you heard him growl like a tiger, you felt his teeth sink down on your neck and with a broken yelp, you arched your back, causing him to hit your g-spot with his next thrust and you choked on your own spit, not knowing if you wanted to get away or more of it. It felt too much to handle but at the same time you wanted more. His tongue licked over the bite mark, soothing the sting before sucking at another spot. Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and so was his. Soonyoung’s hips kept snapping against you, resulting in your moans rising in pitch. “You… feel so good…” he breathed hotly against your skin as he thrusted upwards, now without a break, over and over. 

You gasped loudly and absentmindedly fought against his grip on your wrists, feeling the tension getting stronger. Your orgasm was close. Squeezing your eyes shut, your thighs started to shake while your boyfriend still fucked you hard and deep, chasing his own release. The way your walls literally sucked in his cock and how your legs were trembling made Soonyoung more than proud. That was his girl. His pretty little vixen. 

Getting onto his knees, he grabbed your hips and fucked you in such a force, you had to silence your screams against the back of your hand which was secured over your mouth, your knuckles turning white as your other hand nearly ripped your sheets. Right before Soonyoung came, he licked his thumb and placed it on your clit, giving you the final stimulation before you two came almost at the same time, your walls milking him relentlessly. He felt how more and more cum filled the condom he was wearing, his abs twitching with every squirt. 

Your legs couldn’t stop shaking even when Soonyoung slowed down his movements until he came to a halt. You both tried to catch your breaths, unable to speak. Neither of you moved for a while until he carefully pulled out of you, rubbing soothing circles over your hip. A soft shine left your lips when you felt empty again. 

Your boyfriend rolled on his back beside you, a satisfied expression on his face. It took you a moment until your breathing was almost normal again and you felt the black haired boy next to you shift, making you open your eyes and look at him. He softly covered your arm with kisses until he reached your shoulder and nuzzled his face cutely against it like a cat. “It was amazing. It always is with you.”

Making a kissing face, he understood and gave you one. When your lips separated, your two smiled at each other. You loved him with every fibre in your body. The sweaty hair that was sticking at his face didn’t make him less attractive, instead it made Soonyoung even sexier. 

Shaking you out of your lovey-dovey thoughts, he cocked his head to the microphone and you made an understanding noise. Slowly getting up as your legs and core were still sore.

You turned off the recording program and watched how the red light slowly faded. Soonyoung was propped on his elbows, his eyes on his softening cock. “You told me before that it’s addictive to update your blog and I have to agree. It’s like having sex in public but at the same time, it isn’t. Although….” He poked his cock, his finger touching the white fluid outside and inside the condom. “I wouldn’t mind, trying that out one day.” He looked at your back when you turned around to face him, a mischievous smile on your still swollen lips. “Me neither.”

Soonyoung clicked his tongue and winked at you, making you giggle. “Next time?”

[solarwonux]

Minghao x f!reader drabble

w.c: 2.8k

warnings: angst, slight mention of not eating, minghao be an asshole sometimes

note: I’ve had this one collecting dust in the docs so I decided to upload it today, it was meant to be part of a bigger fic but I decided to not continue though who knows it might be referenced later on in a different fic. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.xx

Also I’m changing my schedule around a little. So instead of me posting Mon, Weds, Fri, I will be posting Mon, Thurs, Fri. You can find more info on Navi

drabble game || masterlist

There were sides of Minghao  that unfortunately weren’t reserved for you, except for one. The one you hated the most and the one you wished you could stray as far away from. The side that received you with a frown and a bitter cold glare. The side that spoke to you in short sentences, a sour tone that would weave its way through his voice like vines whenever he spoke to you. It sent shivers down your spine and not the good kind. It was the side that you couldn’t break through to get to the side that was reserved for the people he loved and cared about most in the world. And you weren’t one of those people.

Maybe this was the way the universe decided to punish you. A punishment you wholeheartedly thought you didn’t deserve because you were tied at your feet with no way out. When you had been matched with Minghao  by the System it was either you marry or die. And of course, selfishly you choose to live. You knew he resented you for it, but in the year and a half that you two were officially married, you had secretly seen the warmth that oozed out of his pores. You saw the wide smile that would light up the room whenever darkness poured in. His laugh sounded like a sweet melody that you would never get tired of listening and just his presence made you feel like home.

Minghao was a gift, the purest form of art, a being so powerful you swore he would restore the peace in the world. He could resent you, hate you all he wanted, look at you with an overwhelming amount of venom in his eyes. And you’d let him, you could never let yourself regret your final decision because he deserved to live.

Sighing deeply, you pushed yourself off the elevator walls watching as the hallway to your apartment came into view. This was the part you hated most about your day. It wasn’t the part where you woke up alone, it wasn’t the part where you had to go to work and it wasn’t the hour and a half walk home. It was the short walk from the elevator to your apartment. It never failed to stretch out miles as your heart caught itself in your throat because behind that closed door you weren’t sure what you’d encounter.

Sometimes it would be a quiet Minghao , sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with his headphones on. His studio set up scattered all over, a notebook and his unlocked phone next to him. Sometimes it was him quietly sitting at the coffee table eating take out, sometimes it was him on his phone arguing with his mother as he shot piercing glares at you, probably wishing you weren’t alive. And other times it was a dark and cold apartment, nothing out of place. The silence creeping underneath the floorboards, reigning, occupying its throne in between the walls as it desperately tried to push the two of you out.

For some reason that was the apartment you always found yourself hoping for whenever you stopped in front of your door. Your hand gripping the doorknob tightly every night that it had started getting loose.

This was a routine by now. You’d put the key in the key lock, turn it until you heard it unlock. Then you’d close your eyes, slowly count ten Mississippi’s, proceed to give yourself a pep talk and then finally biting the bullet and opening the door. Anxiety rushed through you quickly when you saw what was waiting for you behind the door, Minghao  on the couch typing quickly on his phone, while the TV beamed with life in front of him. Lighting up the dark living room with undertones of blue.

“I’m home.” You spoke, a shake in your voice making you wish you were stronger. The door clicked behind you, signaling there would be no way out until tomorrow morning so you might as well bite your tongue and deal with anything you’d encounter tonight.

“Welcome, I ordered food but wasn’t sure if you wanted any.” He shrugged, locking his phone and setting it by his side. He crossed his arms in front of him and turned his attention to the TV.

“It’s fine I’m not hungry anyway.” You took off your shoes by Minghao’s worn out ones. The hunger swirled inside of you, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself that you’d find something to eat once he was asleep in the guest bedroom that by now had become his room. “Mhm, you are eating right?” He said a hint of concern in the back of his throat, but that could’ve been your mind playing games on you. Though the question had caught you off guard and you weren’t sure how to answer without lying because in truth for a while now your appetite had severely gone down.

“I am, had a big lunch with one of my coworkers.” Minghao  nodded at your answer, finally turning to face you, furrowing his eyebrows. You tried to ignore his gaze, relax your body as much as you could and placed your bag down on one of the highchairs in front of the kitchen island. “My family’s coming over tomorrow, my mom wants to cook dinner…you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to.” He blurted out the last part, hollowing out the part of your heart that was reserved for him. You loved Minghao ’s family as much as you loved him, but unlike him they had been very welcoming of you. Embraced you with open arms and you found comfort knowing that at least a part of him loved you.

“I’ll be there.” You whispered, shrugging off your coat and placing it on the back of the chair. “I have a day off tomorrow so I can clean up around here before they come over…I mean if that’s fine with you and all, I don’t want to make things uncomfortable.”

“Do whatever you want.” He spat out leaning back on the couch. His tone returning to the one you were used to hearing and you knew you had overstayed your welcome in the living room. “Right, I’m going to bed then.” You nodded walking past him and straight to your room, closing the door behind you quickly and resting your back against it. You breathed out a sad sigh of relief feeling the tears build up behind your eyelids, the hunger gnawing its way through your stomach ripping it to shreds. As well as your need for some sort of comfort, as you came to your first realization of the night. Just like it washed over you every single night and for once you wished you didn’t feel so alone, when the person that was supposed to love you stood on the other side not caring.

Oddly there was a side of you that loved Minghao  and maybe it was the side that kept holding onto the hope you first felt when you were given the news. Or maybe it was the image of him that you created in your head from all the fragments of light he let out whenever he thought you weren’t looking. But you loved him, that was something you were confident in because you saw him for who he was, flaws and all when the two of you weren’t alone.

“Fuck.” You pushed yourself off your door throwing yourself on your unmade made and grabbing the turtle stuffed animal you slept with every night. It brought you a small sense of comfort and any comfort you could get you would grab and indulge in it blissfully. It was small and useless in the long run.

You buried your head into the head of the stuffed animal, finally letting the dam loose and the sobs came in full throttle. Thankfully the TV in the living room was loud enough to muffle your sounds. It wouldn’t matter if he could hear you anyway because you knew he wouldn’t be running into your room like a knight in shining armor and save you from yourself. He just didn’t care and that was the second realization you would have every night. Each time you did, it sent a jab through your body, cracking the little wall that kept the small sliver of light you held onto dearly. Each night though you felt it flicker slowly losing its innocent glow. Sometimes you’d wonder when the light would finally die out, when the numbness would finally overtake your body and you could go on with life without feeling like you were worthless. Without feeling anything.

“Can I come in?” You sat up on your bed at lightning speed. Minghao ’s soft voice sounding from the other side of your door. A knock following in between syllables. Your breathing sped up and you brought your hands up to your cheeks slapping your tears away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of him seeing you in this state. “U-Um yeah.” You spoke moving to rest against the headboard of your bed, grabbing your laptop on your bedside table and opening it to make it seem like you were doing something other than crying.

“I brought you chicken as I couldn’t finish it all.” He walked in, a styrofoam container in his left hand. His aura took over the air in your room and you felt as if you were suffocating. You watched as he slowly took in your room and your face heating up as you remembered the untidy state of your room. His eyes lingering on the wall of polaroid’s behind your even messier desk.

The girl in those pictures, the one whose smile reached her eyes and laughed still lingered in the small cracks on the walls of your room was someone that was unknown to you now. On days when you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed you looked at her as a sign of motivation. Telling yourself that that person was still within you and that she would come back you just had to fight through whatever you were going through. At the end of the day she always came back.

“Oh, I’m not hungry.” You closed your laptop and set it aside, the forgotten google tab opened waiting to be used. “I can have it for lunch tomorrow though.” You brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. To avoid his curious gaze, you looked out the window, the moonlight shining down at the skyline. You wondered if they were at peace unlike you.

“Why do you cry every night?” Minghao  blurted out. He had placed the container on your desk and sat down on the foot of your bed. His back turned to you. The question had caught you off guard as you searched through the files in your brain in order to come up with an excuse. Yet, you came out unsuccessful and decided to just finally confess to him. You had nothing left to lose. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you?” You choked out biting your lip to keep the sob that threatened to spill locked away in the back of your throat.

“You can’t love…you barely know me.” He turned to face you and for the first time in a long time you couldn’t read the emotion that was playing against his features.

“Maybe I don’t love the person I’m faced with everyday, but I do love the person I see whenever you let your guard down around your friends and family.”

“But aren’t you tired of all of this? He raised an eyebrow, lifting his palm up and signaling all around the room as if the extra gesture would help prove his point.

“Exhausted.” You breathed out your shoulders falling as you felt yourself fall apart little by little in front of him. “Then why not hate me?” Minghao  brought his legs up to your bed and crossed them underneath him. This was the longest the two of you had spoken or been in each other’s presence and although it was suffocating there was a small ring of light that lingered between the two of you.

“Because as much as I want to sometimes, I can’t bring myself to hate someone that’s hurting inside as well.”

The deafening silence that the two of you had grown accustomed to entangling itself in the warmth that was lingering above the two of you now. Somehow bringing the two of you a sense of comfort in the midst of this confusing situation you found yourselves in. Although you could feel like you could breathe again, the question that still kept you up at night stayed put in the back of your throat waiting to finally be let out into the world. For months you had pushed it back, deciding you already knew the answer to it. But as you sat in front of Minghao , his soft eyes dancing between your puffy ones you weren’t sure anymore. So, you put your preconceived notions aside as well as your pride and opened your mouth, letting the question run out to freedom. Your heart raced as you anticipated his answer.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, truthfully I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

“Then why can’t you love me back?” You whispered, shutting your eyes. Your hold on your legs getting tighter.

“Because I can’t bring myself to do so no matter how hard I want to sometimes, especially when I listen to you cry every night. I wish…I want to set everything aside and hold you. I want to make you feel less alone…but I can’t.” Minghao  let out a frustrated sign running his hands through his hair and tugging at his roots in desperation. The sight made your heart wrench. You wanted to reach over and hug him, give him the comfort you craved.

“W-Why?”

“I feel guilty.” He nodded resting his forearms against his knees, finally breaking his eye contact with you. Searching your room rapidly for another point of focus and finally settling on the humidifier on your bedside table. “I feel guilty because before I met you, I had chosen to live, not knowing that I would be the reason why your light would start to fade as the days went by.”

Without a second thought you let go of your legs, maneuvering yourself around your bed and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Finally breaking the barrier that silently lingered between the two of you.

You buried your face into his neck letting your tears run freely for the second time that night. Though this time instead of feeling the loneliness you had felt earlier, you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Minghao  felt himself hesitate for a moment feeling overwhelmed as he felt your touch for the first time, not knowing he missed it. A thought he couldn’t explain because how was he missing something he had never had the pleasure of feeling. But he pushed it aside and hugged you back, letting the tears he had kept in for far too long out in the open. He wasn’t happy but he felt like he could be happy if this was what it felt like to finally have you in his arms. He held you tightly, gripping onto you and burying his nose in your hair taking in your scent, one he decided right then and there he would never grow tired of. The two of you basking in each other’s arms, your hearts racing against one another and it overwhelmed the two of you greatly.

“I know we have a lot of things to get through but I’m willing to start over if you are.” You whispered, removing your arms from his body and sitting back on your knees. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, letting out a small laugh and shook your head in disbelief before holding your hand out for him to shake.

Minghao  smiled widely, chuckling before taking your hand in his. The feeling was enough to send shivers up his spine. The good kind.

For the first time that night he had a realization. A secret that he would carry out to his grave, unless you prodded it out of him and with how things were going, he was sure that you would succeed at it too. But for now, he would keep it to himself and enjoy the way your touch felt against his skin and the way your smile was enough to have his heart beating out of time.

“I’m Minghao, your husband.”

[letsperaltiago]

show me you're shameless

the one where i upload the 2nd chapter 5 months after the first :)) so sorry skskss. anyways... CLUB FIC CHAPTER 2, BABYYY. And it’s getting smutty! Works fine on its own, but reading chapter 1 first does add that *extra spice*

Rating: E

Words: 5.8k

Read here or on Ao3

Besides the obvious bruising and swelling caused by Manson’s punch, Jake is unharmed and allowed to leave the hospital right after his debrief. Officer Wilson nicely offers to give him a ride home and after the day he’s had, which Jake gladly accepts - the faster he gets home, the faster he gets to see Amy. By the time he steps out of the car, onto the sidewalk framing Amy’s apartment building, and tells Wilson thanks for the ride, it’s closing in on two am. The streets of Brooklyn are as desert as the city that never sleeps can be, rather unusually quiet, but Jake can’t think about anything else but the painkillers he’s about to pop, the girlfriend he gets to kiss, and last but not least the soft bed that’ll promise him a good night’s sleep. 

Or so he thinks. 

The second he steps a foot into the apartment, using the spare key Amy gave him a few weeks ago which he proudly accepted, making him feel that more committed to their blossoming relationship, Jake immediately notices that something is not quite how it usually is. And if there’s something he loves about Amy and her place it’s how routine is everywhere to be found - from the tiny key-hook by the front door that holds Amy’s keys to how he knows the painkillers are stashed in the little pink plastic basket on the right top shelf of the bathroom sink cabinet. Tonight the atmosphere feels out of routine, almost making Jake feel like a stranger in an apartment that’s somewhat his own (they’re not quite there yet but they’re mostly at her place so). 

It’s not just because the only elements lighting up the blacked-out apartment are candles (quite many of them) which in itself is very weird because no way Amy Santiago would go to bed with a candle, let alone tens of them, lit. The scene screams fire hazard. Jake himself has a hard time putting a finger on it, but somehow the entire energy seems different. It’s as if, somehow, the air is charged with a certain electricity, and, for a second, Jake wonders if he’s accidentally let himself into the wrong apartment - but that’s not possible, right? No way Amy’s key works for other front doors. 

His keys make a by now familiar clinking sound as he places them on the key-hook, on top of Amy’s. A routine amidst the estranged feeling of this situation. Although he’d hoped and would’ve loved it if Amy had stayed up and waited for him, he knows his girlfriend’s schedule is highly prioritized (even over him, he learned very early on) and so he ignores her absence. What he can’t ignore is that Amy would’ve gone to bed with multiple candles still burning. Her silver three-arm candelabra on the dinner table, her rose-scented block candle on the coffee table, multiple smaller ones in the windows and around the couch/tv-area…

“Ames?” he calls out, loud enough to catch her attention if she’s awake but low enough to not wake her if she’s asleep. 

Silence.

He quickly shrugs off the absence of her reception, and, as per a routine he likes to think of as “domestic”, a new feeling and aspect being with Amy has introduced him to, he kicks off his shoes. Instead of leaving them to clutter up the room, like he would if it were his own apartment, he neatly aligns them with hers on her little shoe rack. His coat goes on on a coat stand instead of a random chair. It’s small gestures like these that make him feel more in sync with his girlfriend. This also leads him to go around the room to blow out the candles. He knows Amy will appreciate him doing it, but he’s just barely put out one candelabra-light when his beliefs are contradicted. 

Someone clears their throat and it has Jake freeze in his spot by the dinner table, much like a deer caught in headlights - a Jake caught in candlelights, one could say. All he can see is a silhouette standing in the hallway. Only just barely lit by the candles’ tiny flames, casting the otherwise dark room in a yellow and orange glow, it’s hard to see anything clearly. Still, there’s no doubt in Jake’s mind: It’s Amy. 

From the way her silhouette almost looks naked, her curves on full display, he can tell she’s still wearing the infamous red skintight dress. Her now messy dark locks frame her face - her beautiful , amazing face - and scatter onto her bare shoulders which are only covered by the sleek dress straps. She looks flushed, luminous, and Jake can’t help but wonder whether it’s the candlelight or the sudden heat he’s sensing. Did it actually just get really hot in here or just him? 

“You don’t like my candles?”

The sound of Amy’s voice is something Jake is very familiar with by now. Her presence has become something his senses immediately tap into, yet when she speaks, red, perfect lips shaping the words with precision, Jake feels his heart skip a beat as if it’s the first time seeing her. His jaw drops to the floor and he surely looks like an idiot, stuck in the same spot with no audible reaction. It surely doesn’t help when his girlfriend walks up to him in a way that has her look like a goddess on a runway. Slow, sleek, and surely she steps up to him as if she isn’t wearing uncomfortably tall stilettos. If Jake hadn’t previously listened to her complain about how awful these heels were then he’d beg her to wear them forever. 

“I- uh- yes? No? I don’t know?” 

A cocky chuckle gushes from her lips. It’s obvious that she has him right where she wants him, physically and mentally, and from the burning look in her eyes, he can tell she has a plan for them to follow tonight whilst she, hopefully,  wears that dress (at least for some of it). 

“I thought I’d try to make the most of the night...” Her eyes switch to the clock on her wall. Five past two. Her brown irises slot back together with his. “What we’ve got left at least.” 

He’s so entranced by her sultry gaze, mystery and mischief glowing in her eyes, that, until he suddenly feels her hands on his hips, he fails to notice how far across the room she’s made it. Now her warm breath is bedewing his neck, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt and Jake’s never been good at chess but this feels a lot like checkmate. 

He doesn’t say anything. Quite honestly unable to do anything else, he utters just the sound of his breath hitching in his throat, but Amy’s happy; it’s enough to reveal his true sentiments when she gracefully pops the first button with her sleek fingers. She pauses and holds his gaze. 

“I’m really glad we ran into each other tonight.”

Already very much confused and barely able to grasp what reality he’s in at this point, Jake offers her little statement a frown. Ran into each other? They literally went to the club together, what does she mean-

“Most guys I run into at that club are usually barely mediocre...”

Oh… OH. It all suddenly clicks. That’s what she’s doing. 

“... but you...” she interrupts herself by biting into her newly applied lipstick, showing off just how white her teeth are, as she moves on to pop the next button in line. “... you look like someone worth spending a night with.”

The colorful lights, the loud bass, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, their moment of weakness in the scummy bathroom; the sensation of being back in the club comes rushing back. All of this, along with it the thought of Amy Santiago being his scandalous one-night stand, flicks a switch within him. Being with her every day is indeed a much better deal, one he’d never want to change, but this fictional role of the one-night stand he’s been put in? Definitely works for him too. Now he just needs to get up to speed and make up for time wasted on being utterly obvious. Luckily Amy Santiago can turn him on easily as a faucet. 

“Yeah? You do this a lot, eh-?” He attempts, dabbling and getting comfortable in his newfound role. 

“Cassidy.” 

“Oh yeah, cool cool cool. Cassidy.” 

After this infamous fumbling, figuring things out, he shifts back into gear. His voice descends into a darker tone, as well as his eyes - and don’t even get him started on his train of thoughts. His hands, up until now stuck by his sides, gently latch onto her waist instead and the soft feel of her dress, silk, he guesses, helps him adopt the exact right mindset for this game. 

“So, Cassidy ,” he emphasizes the name as to get familiar with its taste, immediately learning that it savors of something poisonous and addicting. “You do this a lot? Take home guys without even knowing their name or telling them yours?”

Meanwhile, Amy’s already popped another button, revealing a good chunk of his chest, and has to tear her eyes away from it to meet his villainous gaze. There is no fighting it, and she willingly dives right into him as one would in a pool. Although instead of a clear blue mass of water, her’s is a dive right into a sinful twilight that’s slowly but surely consuming them both.

“Well,” she abandons the last two buttons untouched and sneaks her left hand down to the front of his pants to be met what she’s been patiently waiting for all night. A bulge, still quite modest but without a doubt present and growing. After all, they’re just getting started. “All you needed to do was ask for it. Like I’m going to do now: what’s your name?”

She grins, her eyes as well as her lips, and it takes every muscle in Jake’s body to think of a name, stay in the role, all while he’s not to give in to the hand that’s unmistakably cupping him through his pants. 

“I bet you’re used to asking for what you want.” He’s kind of proud of that line, he must admit. “... And I’m Andrew.”

“Good to know, Andrew. And yeah…” she tightens her grip on him just a tad more, “it’s the easiest way to get what I want.” 

“And what exactly do you want?” 

Just like hers had moments ago, Jake’s hands slowly travel south and back, getting two handfuls of her ass and the fabric that’s enhancing its perfect shape. He feels her breath sink into the skin of his neck and lower face, slowly and bit by bit becoming a part of him.

“Whatever you’re willing to give,” she kisses the side of his neck, feeling the dampness her breath has left behind. Turns out he tastes even better than usual, a mixture of him, cigarettes, and alcohol so having her lips let go already seems unnecessary. 

“And what if what I’m willing to give isn’t enough?” 

He shamelessly squeezes her ass, thanking God for this goddess of a woman he gets to call his, and he’d be lying if he said her sucking on his neck and the feeling of her full behind didn’t have him almost fully hard already. 

“Then I’m not shy of a little... begging,” she physically punctuates her sentence by letting her teeth sink into the skin right below his jaw, and it immediately sends her man of the night into another dimension where he can’t hold back and play nice any longer. Luckily, she doesn’t want him to. 

In the bat of an eye, he’s got her face cupped in his hands and their lips colliding with a hunger that makes it seem as if they’ve never kissed before this very moment. The kiss is clumsy, hungry as if they’ve been starving for days, and once in a while they can hear their teeth clacking, colliding. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Am- Cassidy,” he’s quick to correct himself. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you at that club. Was wondering how a fucking goddess like you was hanging out in a shit-hole like that.” 

He feels her hands cling onto his neck. In response, he has to let go of her face. Instead, his hands wander back down to his hips. Although rather than both slipping backward like earlier, one sneaks its way down and forward to get a grip on the hem of her dress. 

“And wearing this dress? How could I not notice you and instantly dream of fucking you in it.”

This rewards him a tiny moan, airy and soft right into his ear where her lips happen to be nibbling on his earlobe, and Jake knows he’s giving her exactly what they both want. 

“Touch me,” she breathes almost inaudibly and although he hears her he can’t help but push some buttons. 

“What are you saying, baby?” He smirks, slowly forcing the dress-hem up the warm skin of her thighs. “Say it again - louder.” 

“Touch me, please .”

With two fingers hooked around the red fabric he drags it up to stop right by her pubic bone. “Only because you’re so good at asking for it. I might have you beg a bit later.”

She barely answers, only utters a little uhuh . The same two fingers slowly slip beyond the fabric and slide across the already damp gusset. It’s with a small victory smile that Jake carefully starts rubbing the area, immediately earning himself a small whimper. It falls from her lips as if it’s been waiting to do so for a long time now, and her head drops to rest on his shoulder. 

“What did you say?” he cranes his neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of her face, but it’s mostly hidden in his neck. “Does that feel good?”

He doesn’t hear her but feels her nod against him, and so he adds a little more pressure with his fingers, digging into her through the fabric of what feels like lacy panties. 

“I have barely touched you and you’re already this wet. Do you want more? Is this okay?” His tone doesn’t change by Amy can tell it’s Jake asking, not Andrew. 

“Y-yes,” she whimpers, wishing he’d put more energy into touching her.

For a second Amy believes he can read her mind because as soon as the green light has officially been re-approved, her partner’s fingers force aside the gusset and gather some of her wetness to help embed themselves inside of her. He feels her shuffle on the spot in an attempt to stay on her feet and squirm a bit around him when his middle finger penetrates her, all to be summed up by a soft moan into his neck. 

“God, you’re soaked, baby. Do you know how good that feels? Do you feel good?” he slowly starts moving his fingers inside of her, in a pattern he knows she enjoys, and he has to use his free hand to stabilize her as he challenges her with a quicker pace.

“S-so good. More, please.”

Her wish is his command, and he immediately meets it by switching up the pace to which he can hear and feel her react right away. 

“This is so hot,” he breathes into the top of her head, her hair already mussed and messy from their fooling around. “You look amazing, you feel amazing. Kinda just wanna keep you in this dress. It looks fantastic on you.”

Busy whimpering and grinding along to the pace of his fingers, Amy has no time to reply and instead gives in to his upper hand. There’s something so exciting, so hot, not only about the roleplay but also the spontaneity of things, the way they haven’t even made their way out of the dining/living room. If Jak- Andrew wants to, he can have her right then and there. She wouldn’t mind one bit… 

Caught up in a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts, trapped in the vessel that is her quivering body, it comes as a surprise when suddenly Jake nudges her in the direction of the dining table. Making sure to stay away from the still lit candelabra, Jake backs her up against the wooden surface. 

“Sit,” he prompts and helps her over the edge of the table, safely seating her on it and as a consequence, his fingers slip out of her. They’re glistening with her juices and when he runs his hand across her thigh, her skin is smeared with her own lust. Then he nudges her legs further apart for him to fit in-between. The tight dress has by now suffered a lot of moving, already pushed up above her hips and creased into a bunch around her lower belly, which, once he’s ripped off her panties, leaves him with open access to where they both want him to bee.

“Wanna taste you,” he huffs into the kiss he’s pulled her into, leaving them both breathing hard and yearning for air when he retreats to sink to his knees. He’s left at the perfect height. “I’m gonna make you forget about all the guys before me.”

And he sure keeps his promise. 

He dives right into the sacred space between her legs, tongue first, drawing circles around and with her clit, while his hands are forged onto her shivering thighs, making sure they stay wide open and spread for him. Her heaves and tiny breaths escape her with shorter and shorter intervals, promising them both a climax, which his tongue follows, focusing on all the right spots. He continuously eats her out like he’s been starved and deprived for God knows how long,  and she’s his main course. 

“I-I’m almost there.”

She dares to let go of the table, just one hand, and plants it in his messy locks, which are already sweaty and wild from his rummaging between her legs. The tugging throws him into a higher gear that demands extra help from his fingers, still wet from earlier, which makes entering her easy. The second they sink into her, from the higher pitch of her moans, Jake can tell he acted wisely. She shakes, not only the thighs beneath her hands but her entire body, and he fights to keep up the pace that seems to be succeeding in bringing her closer to the edge. A few more pumps, licks and kisses to her inner thigh a couple of times before his tongue reunites with her clit for the final licks that have her climaxing with a loud moan, right there on the dinner table and his mouth. He pecks her heat a few more times as she comes down, then her inner thighs where he spreads her climax on her skin before standing up to see her leaned back onto the elbow that wasn’t tugging on his hair. The dress looks miserable crumpled up around her waist but something about it, paired with her closed eyes and messy makeup, leaves him with what he believes is the perfect picture. Her breathing is more or less just heaves and he lets her catch some air before he leans in to kiss her, open-mouthed as to allow her a taste of herself. 

“Good?” 

“So good,” she smiles right into the kiss, given a taste herself, eyes still closed as she focuses her energy on assembling herself for what is yet to come. 

“Wanna see what you’re hiding in here,” she breathes but Jake barely hears it as all he can currently fixate on is her hand cupping the bulge in his pants, and her nimble fingers working the button and zipper open. Who said attending multiple meticulous and detail-oriented bomb-defusing classes would never come in handy? 

 “Wanna suck you off. I’ve been wanting to all night, even in that disgusting bathroom we met in. Could’ve sucked you off while you looked at yourself in that disgusting mirror.” 

Though it’s pureoy fiction (at least for now - who knows?) Jake feels lightheaded just hearing her thoughts break free and let out into the open. Despite the fact he could never ask her to kneel on the club bathroom’s disgusting floor that, so filthy it stuck to your shoes when walking on it, just the thought of it does ignite something within him. One second they’re still making out, Amy on the table with Jake standing in between her legs, the next she’s got his pants unbuttoned and unzipped thus proceeding to push herself off the table, consequently pulling both his pants and boxers down at once (which kinda impresses Jake - he’s not gonna lie) as she gets descends to her knees. 

Cassidy, Amy, whoever she is in this moment, doesn’t waste time. Jake admires the adulterated hunger in her eyes as she wraps her fingers around his hard, pre-cum leaking cock to give it a few assisting pumps before leaning in to kiss the head. Her gaze diverts from his hard-on to his eyes, up at him through thick and black mascara-coated lashes, as she gives the very tip a tiny, almost experimental, lick. Just the sight and feel of her tongue on him, her saliva mixing with his pre-cum is enough to send him to heaven, but he sure doesn’t complain when the innocent lap is succeeded by a full-on licking motion that goes around his full girth. 

“Gosh, you’re killing me.” 

He reaches for her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as if to praise her for her actions. “You like this, huh? Hunting down your preys, taking them home… only for you to become the prey.” 

Nothing is answered, at least not verbally. Instead, she slowly goes down on the length, lips stretched to the max around him and batting her eyelids as her gagging reflex is challenged. His hand leaves her cheek and instead travels to the back of her head where it can get a good grip on her hair. Here it settles on following her movement as she bobs her head, swallowing him again and again. The grip on her doesn’t have a real purpose, he doesn’t try to control or force anything with it. All it really does is provide him with another pleasing aspect of feeling her movements, giving him some sense of staying grounded when the thrill becomes too much and he starts losing himself to the thrill of her actions. 

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees like this, and…” He’s interrupted by his own growl, escaping him the second he feels a very soft scratching of her teeth against his pulsing member. It takes him a few seconds to recollect himself. She’s sucking him off like a champion, one hand by the base, the other on his thigh, steady rhythm and small hums in between. Hums that he’ll remember till the day he dies. “Your lips stretched around my cock like this? Like they were made for it, fuck. I’m not gonna last though - not if you keep eating me up like this.” 

Her lips offer him a few more pumps, slowing down to a halt and leaving her in his mouth for a few seconds before she lets him slip out of her mouth, leaving a thin thread of a mix of saliva and pre-cum to hang on for dear life between her lips and his cock. She can taste him and he can see his discharge on her lips glowing in the candlelight. Her knees are pink and raw when she stands back up, hair messier than ever, and dress crumpled, bunched up around her waist. She’s amazing, Jake thinks, in awe of how he landed someone as perfect as her - in every way imaginable. Tonight is just one of many aspects, and every day with her is truly the best day ever

“C’mere,” he pulls her in by the waist, too caught up to let her go for even a second, and without even thinking twice his right hand cups her heat, feeling the wetness seep through her lips and trimmed bush. Just what he’d hoped for. “You’re gonna start dripping on the floor if we keep going like this.”

“Would you like that?” she breathes onto the shell of his ear, grinding into his hand, and sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yeah, I would… But I’d rather put how absolutely soaked you are to good use.” He slips his middle finger in between her folds, gathering wetness, feeling her squirm. “I’d much rather fuck you right into this wall…” he backs her into the nearest wall that’s clear of shelves and pictures frames, a low-risk area per se, “... while you’re wearing this stupidly hot dress.”

She’s sucking bruises into his neck, not allowing him to see her face, but the second her back hits the wall she’s back to kissing her way up to his lips. Here she tugs on his plump, still bruised bottom lip before dropping her head backward, letting it lull against the wall. Her eyes are darker than ever, brown irises borderline black, as she stares right into his. “Do it then.”

“Do what?” he challenges. He wants to hear her say it. Every word, every syllable. 

“Fuck me. Up against this wall. Wearing this red dress.” She pulls down the skirt, just to cover her ass and give him the full dress-experience rather than it just being fabric bundled up around her waist. “ Please .” 

It sure is impossible to not act when she bats her eyes at him, spilling filthy words, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Before he’s even fully aware, his animalistic instinct takes over and has him holding up her leg with one hand, the other giving his cock a few pumps prior to guiding the tip through her folds. 

“Cond-” 

She’s quick to interrupt. She knows it’s his character asking, since, in reality, they both know they’re clean and she’s on the pill - though she appreciates the effort of staying in character and the fact that Andres is a reasonable man.

“Fuck me. Raw.”

“You’re something else, Cassidy,” he chuckles, and having already gathered enough wetness on him he pushes into her, slowly and torturously, feeling her heat take him in and hearing her moan shatter the silence. 

“Yes,” she hisses at the stretch, her uplifted leg leaving her more open and the piercing sensation somewhat smoother. 

He starts slow, rocking into her with ease. 

“You look so hot. Can’t believe you’re letting me take you right here up against a wall. Fucking filthy.” 

He eventually picks up her other leg as he picks up speed and by the time he’s fully slamming into her with a powerful pace that has her legs shaking, he’s fully holding her off the floor and fucking her into the beige wall behind her. She moans with every thrust, every collision between her body and the wall, thumps, as she holds onto his shoulders for dear life, thighs burning from clinging onto his hips. The angle at which he penetrates her is just perfect, hitting and stimulating all the right zones, and, even comparing to the loads of amazing sex they’ve had, this, without a doubt , goes in the top three. The wall is cold against her back, creating a sizzling contrast to the heat forming between their rubbing fronts. His shoulders and arms are flexing under her weight, and now there’s no denying that Jake Peralta the hottest guy she’s even been with. 

“R-right there, ah, yes,” she hisses, head pressed back into the wall, the friction messing up her hair. 

“This feel good, huh?”

“So good- fuck , harder, please.” 

“You feel so good around me, you know that? All wet, all tight… Just like your dress. Fucking gorgeous.” 

He picks up the pace, putting great effort that has him sweating through his nice shirt, never fully removed, as he works her up, almost as if he hopes to leave an outline of her on the wall. Her moans pick up the pace, turning into small squeals that can barely come to an end before a new one takes over, and Jake can tell she’s closing in on a climax. So is he. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, J-Jake.”

It flies out of her, beyond her control. It’s hard to stay in character when your groin is one fire like (almost) never before, but she was the one to start the roleplay and he’s going to keep her in it. You have to finish what you started. 

“Who’s Jake?” the trust going in with his name is extra hard and earns him a loud whimper, topping all other sounds so far, as if to apologize for her mess-up. “Is he some other guy who you’ve taken home and gotten fucked by?”

“S-sorry, bad habit,” she leans in to kiss him in hopes of making him forget or at least let go. 

“Do I fuck you better than he did? Huh?”

She doesn’t say anything but keeps moaning, her pitch gradually becoming higher.

“Tell me,” he momentarily lets go of a leg, feeling her ankles hook together behind his back, to cup her cheek and force her to look right into his eyes. “Have you been fucked like this before?”

“N-no,” she stutters in-between his cocks collision with what he knows is her good spot. 

“Couldn’t hear you,” he growls, provoked, and dying to hear the statement in its entirety fall from her sinfully pink lips now that he’s gnawed off the red lipstick. Almost synchronously to his demand, he picks up the pace, heading for the last stretch, which he knows might not be the smartest when he wants her to speak. But Amy Santiago loves a good challenge. To his surprise, the always so consistent woman completely fails, moans turning into small screams as she chases her peak, and Jake can only forgive her inability to answer him right away. It doesn’t refrain him from insisting a few moments later though. 

“What did you say, baby?”

Every word is punctuated with a thrust, thrusts that go deeper than before, and Amy on her part is a wreck barely clinging onto him and the wall behind her.  

“I-I said…” melts into a groan when he, once again, strikes just the right spot. “I said that I’ve never been fucked like this before.” 

“Didn’t think so.”

Jake grins rather proudly even though, in reality, he’s competing with himself. Beads of sweat trickle down from under his wavy bangs who by now are very much soaked, plastered to his forehead like a wet (but also kinda cute, if you ask Amy) mop. In every which way possible, there’s something very special and satisfying about a chuffing, puffed-up, sweaty Jake holding her like he currently is, taking on this commanding role of Andrew, and Amy is sure: she won’t mind revisiting this act some other time. 

 “Be a good girl: suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.”

His hand that was once on her cheek presents itself, and Amy doesn’t even have the time to feel embarrassed about how quickly, without any second thought, she opens her mouth for them. Obeying is part of her DNA and dutiful as Amy Santiago is she immediately welcomes his index and middle finger into her mouth, sucking on them with a great commitment that Jake undoubtedly appreciates. 

“Good girl,” he praises, their eyes’ locked in their perhaps most intense staring contest ever. Amy makes sure to take his fingers all the way in, lips reaching his knuckles, and Jake almost forgets his agenda. 

Keyword: almost. 

After slowing down the pace of his thrusts and retracting his fingers, to Amy’s great chagrin, the hand drops to between her legs, and his fingers are added to the mix, the chasing of her climax, and oh it definitely works. Amy’s whining reaches a brand new level, hitting a high note he’s never heard before, and he can feel her tense around his cock and fingers. She’s almost there, and even though Amy, in the red strappy dress, taking him so well, is a piece of art that he’d like to hang on a wall forever, he knows she needs release. And so does he. 

 “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that. Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s very distracting yet I can’t look away.”

High-pitched moans and whimpers are all he gets in return. His fingers slip out of her heat, now even wetter than after being sucked on, but don’t go far and redirect to give her clit the final attention. 

“If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.” He chuckles, leaning in just far enough to peck her lips, and if they hadn’t only been dating for a couple of months, the best couple of months ever , he would be pretty sure of the fact that he’s very much in love with Amy Santiago, Cassidy, Dora and every other version of his incredible girlfriend. 

“T-then don’t.”

So he doesn’t, her word is her command after all, and a couple of strokes and thrusts later, nibbling on her clavicle with just a bit more teeth than intended but too blown away to be able to control it, she lets out a cry as she comes apart around him. Limbs going limp, just barely managing to cling onto his body and avoiding a fall to the floor, Amy reaches and crashes completely, hitting a climax for the record books. Jake follows right behind, coming into her,  riding it out with her aftershock, and then the room goes silent as if nothing had happened. Only their heavy breathing is to be heard. 

“Shit,” she pants.

“The good kind?” he chuckles pulling out of her, but still carrying her. 

“The very good kind, Andrew . Maybe the best one yet.”

They share a small laugh as she pushes his sweaty hair back, admiring the admiration in his eyes that seconds ago were darker than the pitch-black night sky outside her window. How fast they can switch will never cease to amaze her. 

“Kinda sucks I let another man beat that record.”

“Well…” she leans in, offering him a consolatory kiss that he gladly accepts, before she pulls back, just an inch, to whispers against his lips. “The night is young. Andrew had his turn, now Jake Peralta can show me his worth.” 

“Holy shit- Amy Santiago, you’re going to be the death of me.”

It’s safe to say that Jake wins back the record and Amy eventually ends up washing her dress. Twice. On the warmest setting possible. 

[sasarahsunshine]

Criminal Obsession | Prologue

Warnings: Rated M for Mature. Murder, drugs, alcohol, sex, swearing, the whole shebang. 

A/N: I’m finally getting around to my mafia!AU for Criminal Minds! I’m very excited, because unlike my other fics where I write whatever comes to mind, this one is actually planned out. I’m already almost done with chapter 3, and I hope to have an upload schedule for this one. We’ll see! This is a HotchReid fic.

You can also read this on AO3.

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The leader of America’s largest Crime Ring is lonely. He’s surrounded by his friends; people who he trusts with his life. He has his son. But he's lacking something more meaningful in his life. He’s lacking companionship. After the death of his wife a year ago, maybe it’s time to find someone new?

How did he end up there? Standing at the top of a marble staircase, blood splattered across his face as he watched his first kill tumble and roll to a stop on the red carpet below, eyes vacant of life. Nothing but the echoes of their dying breaths in his ears, a memory he won’t ever forget. Their blood drips from the knife in his shaking hand, his grip tightening. He’s only 14 years old. Only 14.

A pat on his shoulder, a glint in his father’s eye, a pearly white smile. “You did well, son.”

You did well. 

He did well. 

He didn’t feel well.

He spun around, vomiting over the railing to the floor below. Just another mess for the Help to clean, he thought glumly. That wasn’t his intention. 

The cold hand on his shoulder gripped him tighter, malice in the voice which only seconds before was praising him, “You’re weak! I am so ashamed to have you as a son! You can’t even handle a little blood on your hands- how do you expect to survive in this world if you can’t even defend yourself in a fight? Pathetic.”

Ten years later, he thought over those words as he twisted the knife in his father’s gut, making sure to watch the light fade from his eyes. His father coughed, blood seeping from his blue lips, “Why?” He asked, his voice a whisper. He leaned closer, humming into the old man’s ear, “Not so pathetic now, am I, father?”

Twenty years later, on the anniversary of his father’s untimely death, he sits at his desk, his throne, and nurses a glass of the finest whiskey. It tastes like shit. Like every other alcohol that’s touched his tongue throughout his life. But it gets him drunk, and it burns his throat in the way he needs. 

His suit is black, form-fitted, custom-made. His fingers tap an unknown beat on aged oak, his eyes set on the door. His office is enormous. Practically a library. But as he stares, it begins to feel smaller. The walls close in on him, his lungs aching for the oxygen he is being deprived of. He could open the window. But that would require him to turn around. So instead, he sits, he drinks, and he stares. 

He’s very aware of who is on the other side. He knows what they want. He waits for them.

And, eventually, the door opens, creaking on old hinges as it’s pushed open with little care. The man who saunters in is not who he was expecting, and he finds himself allowing the smallest twitch of a smile to grace his lips. 

He is thankful, for this man is his friend. He is thankful, for this man is his left-hand. He is charismatic. Charming. A breath of fresh air after the week he’s had. 

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he takes a seat in the chair opposite of the desk, one leg going over the other as he leans back. He chuckles, running his hand over his shaved head. There’s dried blood speckled on his knuckles, on his disheveled button-up. The top two buttons are undone, and his tie is nowhere to be seen. There’s a brief moment where he wonders where the tie and jacket had gone to, seeing as his friend was wearing them both earlier in the day. 

“You don’t need to worry about the threat anymore,” his left-hand says, flashing his white teeth in a smile that reveals small dimples. He pulls out a pocketknife, flipping it once in his hand before setting it on the desk, offering it as a gift. It’s covered in blood. The blood is going to stain the old oak of the desk.

“You’re sure?” He asks, finally setting his now empty whiskey glass down on a coaster. He can’t help as his eyes flitted behind his friend, taking in the large hallway behind him. A dead man is being dragged away by someone in a black suit, blood smearing on the floor behind him. “There was only one?”

“There were two,” he replies, holding up two fingers, “The first was in the kitchen. But don’t worry, I made sure they were the only ones. You’re safe. Jack’s safe.”

He allowed a sigh to escape. He didn’t need to be as stoic, as stern, in front of the left-hand; he knew that. He could finally relax. The room didn’t feel so small anymore. He could breathe again.

Sitting up a little, the vertebrae in his back cracking as he did, he nodded his head once, “Thank you, Morgan.”

“No problem, Hotch,” Morgan replied with a grin, “I had fun doing it.”

I’m sure, Hotch thought to himself. If anyone liked beating people to death, it was Morgan. That was probably why he discarded his jacket. Beating was messier than just shooting someone. He could never understand the so-called thrill of being covered in blood. He’d rather stand further away and just shoot someone between the eyes. Cleaner. Colder. Easier.

“Feel free to take the rest of the day off,” he replied, finally turning his chair around to look out the window at his expansive property, “But I want two men posted with Jack for the rest of the day. Just in case.”

“Right, boss,” Morgan said. Hotch could hear him stand and leave, not closing the door behind him. How irritating. Typically he would have called after him, but instead, he stayed silent, watching the soft breeze blow fallen leaves around in the yard. There weren’t that many yet, as it was only September, but the colder months were fast approaching. It wouldn’t be long before the auction season starts again. 

“Door’s open,” he said as footsteps approached. He hated when people knocked. Turning his chair around, he found himself looking at the last person he wanted to see. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” The older man scoffed, walking into the office with an air of confidence. His hair was greying, salt and pepper sprinkled in his beard. He arched an eyebrow, “I was just told that there were only two assassins in here this year. Are you sure that’s the end of it? It’s only 2pm, you know.”

Hotch drummed his fingers on his desk, scowling, “Morgan said that was it. He double-checked the property. But if you’re so concerned, Dave, why don’t you just make yourself at home here in my office? Be my babysitter?”

Dave smirked, sitting down in the authentic leather seat with a chuckle, “Why, thank you, Aaron. I think I will.” 

Hotch rolled his eyes, pulled the bottle of whiskey from his cabinet, and poured it into his glass. Dave procured another glass from somewhere, holding it out for Hotch to fill. He did so, but not without shooting his oldest and dearest friend a glare of disapproval. Dave was the only person who could get away with such blatant disrespect. And he knew it, too. That was why he did what he did so regularly: getting on Hotch’s nerves. 

The two allowed silence to fall over them as they sipped on their alcohol, Dave smirking at the furrowed brow of Hotch when he tasted the burn. They shared several minutes like this, enjoying the quiet. Their lives weren’t often slow, so when it was, it was nice. 

Perhaps ten minutes passed, maybe a little more, before Dave spoke, his eyes studying the swaying oak tree outside the window, “Have you gone to see Sean and Haley yet?”

Hotch peered over the rim of his glass at him, frowning, “No. My priority was making sure Jack was safe.”

“Yes, I know that. But normally, you would have gone by now. What is really keeping you locked in your office?”

Hotch scoffed. Damn Dave and his ability to read people. He shrugged his shoulders, his fingers once again drumming along the table. He chose not to dignify his friend with an answer. He decided to stay silent. 

David sighed, leaning forward a little, “Is it because today isn’t just your father’s death-versary?” The use of that word was one only the two of them shared. 

Hotch’s frown deepened as he stared at the whiskey in his glass. Thirty years ago, he killed someone for the first time. Twenty years ago, he killed his father. Ten years ago, his brother was murdered in retaliation. One year ago, his wife was murdered. He was not going to allow this year to be the year his son was taken from him too.

He didn’t need to say anything. David nodded in understanding, a thoughtful look to his eyes. He let a beat of silence fall between them before he spoke again, “It’s been a year since Haley. And longer since you two were intimate-”

“Dave,” Hotch warned, his eyes growing dark as he glanced at his right-hand man. David shrugged, choosing to continue speaking anyhow. He could get away with it. He was the only one who could. “All I’m saying, is that you can’t hide your loneliness from me. It was there before she died, and it’s there now.”

“I won’t bring anyone else into my life who can be ripped away just as quickly,” Hotch responded, setting his glass down. He no longer wanted alcohol. He wanted to punch someone. Probably Dave. 

“Since last year, your empire has doubled!” Dave argued, leaning forward with interest, “And with that, so has your personal guard! Nobody is going to touch you, Jack, or anyone else you might find love with. Aaron, please, I’m begging you, you’re a miserable old man who is letting your emotions control your business sense.”

“My business sense? Old man? Watch it, Dave, you’re older than me,” Hotch scoffed, rolling his eyes, “And since when has my empire growing been a bad thing?”

“I’m not saying it is,” Dave countered, “But don’t you want someone to share your wealth with?”

Hotch let his shoulders slump a little as he leaned back, swiveling his chair from right to left, “I’ve had plenty of women to spoil in the last year-”

“Not escorts,” Dave scolded, “someone more permanent. Someone you can have hanging off your every word when you speak. Someone to take with you to the galas and the auctions. Someone like Haley used to be for you.”

Hotch was about to retort, but the echoing of little feet running down the marble-laid hallway broke his concentration. He smiled as his son came barreling into the office, dark hair wild and unkempt, giggles and squeals coming from him as his nanny was on his heels. Her face was that of exasperation, but she smiled at her boss upon seeing him, “Sorry, sir,” she said as Jack climbed into his father’s lap, wrapping his little arms around his neck and shouting, “Daddy! For Halloween this year, I want to be Spiderman!”

Dave chuckled. Hotch widened his eyes, “Oh yeah, buddy? Why do you want to be Spiderman?” Jack leaned in and whispered into his father’s ear, “‘Cause we just watched Spiderman, and he can swing from webs in the air. Kinda like when we’re in the ‘copter ‘cept he doesn’t need a ‘copter! He can just do that!”

Hotch smiled, planting a kiss on his son’s forehead, “Wow, that sounds super cool, buddy. Halloween is still almost two months away, though, so you have time to think about it if you want to change your mind.”

“Nope!” Jack shook his head proudly, “I’m going to be Spiderman!” He then turned and smiled wide at Dave, his front two teeth missing, “Uncle Dave! What are you going to be for Halloween?”

David laughed, setting his glass down and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “I don’t know yet, kiddo. Maybe I’ll be Superman.”

“You can’t be Superman,” Jack scrunched up his nose. 

“Oh? Why’s that?” David asked, peering from him to Hotch then back. 

“Cause daddy’s Superman,” Jack said matter-of-factly. His nanny gave a tight-lipped smile at that, “That’s right, Jack,” she said. Hotch just smiled warmly at his son before picking him up and setting him down on the floor, “Well, Superman is still very busy right now,” he said, “so why don’t you go with Miss Clara and finish up your schoolwork, okay? I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Okay,” Jack nodded, smiling back at Miss Clara, “I only have some coloring left!” He declared. Miss Clara nodded, “Yep, so let’s go back to that, okay?” She looked up at Hotch, “Sorry again. He was just so excited to tell you.”

“It’s fine,” Hotch waved her off, watching her and his son hurry back down the hall. Thank goodness the Help was quick at cleaning up the bloody mess Morgan has left behind. He didn’t need Jack seeing that. He was only five. 

Dave chuckled to himself, shaking his head a little, “Don’t think our conversation is over, Aaron,” he warned, “I’m not done trying to convince you to find a good woman to love.” 

Hotch frowned. Of course, Dave wouldn’t drop it. He sighed and rolled his eyes, standing from his chair for the first time all day. His knees protested. “I don’t really have time to date, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Then pay for a girlfriend.”

“But you said no escorts,” Hotch knitted his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Not escorts,” David used his hands for emphasis, “But what about a Sugar Baby?”

“A what?”

It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes, “Oi, you’re younger than me, and you don’t know what a Sugar Baby is? Jesus Aaron, you haven’t been out of the game that long, have you?”

Hotch made a pointed look at Dave, expecting an explanation, not a taunting tone. Dave sighed, “Sugar Babies are girls who are paid for sex, but long-term. And not always with cash, although some take a certain amount upfront. They get spoiled by their Sugar Daddies with gifts, dinners, money, cars, whatever it is they want. A girlfriend you pay for. Someone to be your arm-candy at events. Someone to keep you company and to get your rocks off so you’ll stop being such an ass.”

Hotch scowled a little, leaning against his desk, his hands folded in his lap, “How is that different than an escort?” He was tense.

“Escorts are temporary. You fuck ‘em and dump ‘em,” Dave shrugged. Hotch furrowed his brow at his friend’s language. After a beat of silence, he exhaled, “That isn’t exactly a true girlfriend, either,” he pointed out. 

Dave stood up, pulling a cigar out of the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket, “But it’s a step closer. Plus, you can shop around until you find one you like. You got money, Aaron. Might as well spend it.” He lit the cigar before inhaling on it deeply, blowing the expensive spice-scented smoke into the air. Hotch hated when he smoked inside. 

He waved his hand in a motion to tell Dave to leave. Dave shrugged again, “Think about it, Aaron. I bet Penelope could put her feelers out there for you.”

“I can’t bring anyone in here,” Hotch warned, “With the business and all.”

“That’s why you have Penelope check them all out first. I’m sure there’s plenty of bad girls out there who have been Babies for other Crime Lords.”

Hotch flinched. He didn’t like being compared to other “Crime Lords.” He wasn’t like them. He didn’t deal in people. He didn’t murder for fun. He did what he needed to survive. This was survival, nothing more. Even though it was illegal. 

Dave started walking out, waving his hand in farewell, “Think about it,” he said again, his smoke following him.

Hotch scoffed, going back to his desk and pulling out a file. He glanced it over, sitting down slowly. Financial reports from the last year. Boring. 

He couldn’t help his mind from wandering a little, debating on the idea of a ‘Sugar Baby.’ A girl that had to be interested in what he said, what he did. Someone to wear extravagant dresses that he bought for them, custom-made, tailored to their body perfectly. Someone to hang off his arm at every event of the year. Many were coming up. The amount, he wasn’t sure, but he would have to ask Penelope. She would know. 

Maybe it would be nice to have someone pay attention to him again. Someone to have in his bed for longer than one night, even if it was a paid arrangement. 

His eyes flickered to the phone on his desk. 

He hadn’t wanted a girlfriend before now because he couldn’t fathom the idea of even finding one. His life was too busy. If he wasn’t at an event in New York, he was in D.C. or Vegas. He just didn’t have the time. The only eligible woman on the property was his son’s nanny, and even though she was pretty, she was not his type. 

But, if he could skip the formalities? If he could just have someone there for him without needing to date them first?

He picked up the receiver and dialed. After a beat, Penelope answered on the other end, “Yes, sir?”

“Garcia,” he started, “I need you to look into something for me.”

[seimeinotaka]

A beautiful gift for a beautiful flower: the Legendary Sword (Vil X MC fic)

It is still the 9th, so I’m still on time to upload a fic to celebrate Vil’s birthday. I wanted to give something he would love, so here it is, given and made with him and Ann in mind. Maybe one day I’ll upload Ann giving him also his so-wanted list hehe. But for now, I hope this will do!

Thanks to polyphenols@AO3 for beta-reading this!

-

This is a story from a young prince who lived in a faraway land.

~ ° ~

Vil had just returned from his afternoon walk as he crossed the now empty lounge, devoid of any of the birthday tables and balloons for his own celebration, as expected for it was the day after. Well, it was empty except for the lone presence of Ramshackle dorm’s prefect, Ann Hawthorne, and Vil’s almost professional headache.

“Vil-senpai, here!” the young girl said as she handed Vil a thick-looking envelope, with a purple ribbon on top.

The unexpected gift made him raise an eyebrow. “Potato, my birthday was yesterday and you were here, with your usual birthday interviews for the School’s News Section. You even took a picture of me. Did you somehow not know it was my birthday yesterday and made a last-minute gift to excuse yourself?”

Ann rolled her eyes and made a mocking grin. “Haha, how funny, there is no way in hell I can make this in one night. I had actually brought it with me, but well, I wanted you to read it, and I didn’t want to take up your time at your birthday party. I mean, you didn’t read Rook-senpai’s poems either, so it was fair that I handed you this now.”

Vague curiosity in his eyes, because he wasn’t really interested, just a little, Vil opened the envelope and took out a large stack of papers bound together with a purple thread. The words “Legendary Sword” could be read on the first page, and with a quick glance, Vil realized it was a script with some pictures in between.

~ ° ~ 

Long ago in the hidden remains of the Araceae Kingdom lived a beautiful young man, with brilliant cold amethyst eyes and delicate flawless skin. His hair was silky golden and he blinded everyone with his appearance. Every day, he devoted himself to his studies, from arts to economics, languages and science. In the afternoon he would train his body, fencing, wrestling, running, horse riding. He worked harder than anyone, never complaining, as he pushed himself day after day.

However, he was feared and scorned, for he was the scion of the wretched Zantedeschia household, Schwartz Zantedeschia. His family had ruled the kingdom with an iron fist, and had seized control of every other kingdom under the sun.

Shedding blood, many fought the Zantedeschia until one day a brave hero, wielding a mythical sword, was able to dethrone the cursed family and their household vanished from history. The hero, coming from the Leiron family, the rulers of the Lilium Kingdom that everyone had dismissed as negligible, was of pure heart and as the chosen hero, he was able to vanquish the evil.

However, the Zantedeschia weren’t completely destroyed and each heir was carefully trained in hopes of achieving their dream.

Before Schwartz, no one had been as successful nor had anyone worked as hard, and he was the only one to cast off from the shadows to fulfill his mission, leaving his homeland in shambles behind him.

To regain their former glory, and extract revenge, that was the reason for his journey.

~ ° ~ 

“A villain protagonist, really? This is your gift to me?” Vil took his eyes off the script for a moment to give Ann a dismissive and insulted glare.

Unamused, the girl rolled her eyes as she pushed the script closer to his face. “Keep reading, Vil-senpai.”

Vil kept his penetrating and heavy stare on her, though the young girl didn’t even flinch, probably used to his flair for the dramatic. However, the actor kept on reading.

~ ° ~ 

To fulfill his quest for revenge, he would need to seize the mythical sword Durendal, which had been the fall of his family. The next chosen holder would be Weiss Leiron, the heir of the Lilium Kingdom, adored by everyone for his purity. As soon as he turned of age, he would become the legitimate owner of Durendal.

Prince Schwartz had known of Weiss, meeting him long ago when he hid his identity to get to know the faces of his enemies. Even now, he was painfully aware, Weiss was beloved by every creature in the land, his affable nature charming everyone in spite of his failings. During that time, Schwartz came to learn that his own nature scared others, finding himself pushed away even if his true name hadn’t been revealed. His beauty alienated everyone he had met and his stoic personality was found distrustful by many, no matter what he did or said.

Thus for years, he couldn’t help but to grow deep resentment in his heart, jealousy taking root like a bloody, poisonous flower. So for Schwartz, this quest meant also his own reassurance of his worth to the world that had shunned him.

~ ° ~

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” Vil squinted as he kept on re-reading the last line, his frown growing deeper and deeper with every word.

“Do I look like I’m enjoying this?” Ann replied with a not so concealed smarmy smile.

“Your suspicious gaze makes me wonder if you are secretly a sadist. You’re not even trying to flatter me in the slightest, and of all people, you had to put him as the hero again. Really, you have a morbid sense of humor.”

“Who says Neige is the hero?”

“I am obviously Schwartz, as the narration clearly describes me. That would mean Neige can only be Weiss. Stop playing around, you aren’t fooling me.” Vil let out a long sigh. “At this rate, I’m going to have you list 200 beautiful things about me instead.”

“Please finish reading the thing, Vil-senpai? Do you judge books on the first page?”

Vil sighed again, gently shaking his head as his eyes went back to the papers in his hands.

~ ° ~ 

To aid him on his quest, Prince Schwartz had been sent with two trusted knights serving the Zantedeschia, the bow master Vert and the young knight Violett. Vert was a self-proclaimed defender of beauty and followed Schwartz wherever he would go. Violett had a tense relationship with Schwartz, feeling constricted by Schwartz’s rules and strictness, and with a promise of freedom after this journey. Whatever their goals were, they would protect him with their lives, as his travel would grow more dangerous the further he went. Prince Weiss had seven renowned knights and no matter Prince Schwartz’s prowess in combat and magic, it would be safer for him to be accompanied. The Araceae Kingdom was also on the northern end of the continent, hidden behind a harsh tundra and treacherous mountains, and Schwartz’s safety was to be prioritized.

As the prince and his knights traveled south, to reach the center of the continent where Durendal was enshrined, they met a group of four travelers in peril, surrounded by foul beasts. Even if it was dangerous, as it could blow his cover, Schwartz and his knights went to their rescue. In gratitude, the brawler Azure, the thief Vermillion, the young lost researcher Ai and her magical talking cat Hai joined Schwartz on his travels south.

~ ° ~

“Why do I get vague videogame allusions from this?” Vil arched an eyebrow at the recent development.

“Well,” Ann replied with a shrug. “They are classes you find in RPGs. It would make sense for Schwartz to gather several comrades that can cover any weakness he might have.”

“Then? What is your class, Ann?” Vil turned to the girl, a mocking smirk dawning on his beautiful face. “I don’t think you’d be able to be a Healer here.”

Ann pursed her lips before reluctantly answering, “I am the very important NPC tagging along. You all can fight to protect me.”

“Fufufu, bold of Ai to wander alone with her talking cat who can barely manage a spell. I wonder if they will be of help.” With a dark chuckle, Vil resumed reading.

~ ° ~ 

Vermillion and Azure hailed from the Rosaceae Kingdom, a land not far away from Lilium and the shrine for Durendal. Originally a couple of bandits, they had initially attempted to trick Ai and her cat, lost travelers who had just survived a shipwreck and were looking for a way back to their homeland, the Asteraceae Empire on the other side of the world. However, after being saved by the same girl they wanted to rob, they decided to reform and help them reach a port. Being told of their quest to reach Lilium, the group tagged along unaware of Schwartz’s true intentions. They all believed he was a young man kidnapped and sent to Araceae who was trying to go back to his own land, Vermillion and Hai hoping they could snag a reward for their efforts.

To reach Lilium and the shrine, the group would need to cross a perilous desert, where the rays of the sun would be so merciless that the unprepared would easily die. Unaccustomed to such warm weather, Schwartz and Violett struggled with the inclemency of the climate, growing weaker with every step. However, Schwartz was not willing to abandon his mission, even at his own health’s peril, and he continued his trip until he grew gravely ill.

~ ° ~

“You’re not writing this right now, but one could think you were expecting me to question your abilities and you kindly decided to get some petty revenge on Schwartz,” Vil said flatly, as his eyes dangerously narrowed, throwing daggers at Ann.

“Excuse me, I would be incapable of doing that, Vil-senpai.”

“Have you forgotten the time your hand slipped and your fist casually connected with Rook’s jaw? Or the time you-”

“That was a legit reason to punch him, okay?” Ann pouted as she folded her arms in front of her. “And we don’t need to talk about other things, go on and keep reading.”

~ ° ~ 

Taking a detour, the group reached the land of Oleaceae in hopes of finding a doctor to treat Schwartz and Violett. In their search, they found a pair of young men running away from a large group of pursuers. Ill and weakened, Schwartz still led the party to defend and protect the men in need of help, learning that the people running away, a dancer by the name of Asfar and his servant Burtiqali had been wrongly accused of murdering Asfar’s father. Even if Asfar had chosen to distance himself from his father’s business, one of the largest spice traders in Oleaceae and the land, he was the heir to the family and people within the clan wanted to get rid of the father and son to claim the business for themselves.

After a narrow escape from Oleaceae, the group learned that Burtiqali was a proficient chemist, and he provided relief to Schwartz and Violett, in gratitude for helping them escape. With no place to go, Asfar and Burtiqali decided to travel with Schwartz, hoping to find a way to clear Asfar’s name if they reached Lilium and found the hero Weiss.

Meanwhile in the Lilium Kingdom, word of Schwartz’s quest reached the ears of Weiss.

“Someone sullied is not fit to be a hero, only those pure can be one. Envy, jealousy, those emotions are unbecoming. A hero is a beacon of hope, a model to follow, a paragon of virtue. Someone who is envious of the natural course of things is not fit to be a hero.”

Those were the words of the beloved hero, the next in line to inherit Durendal. He looked at the eyes of his loyal knights, seven brave men who would follow Weiss wherever he went, taking his word almost as if it came from the heavens. Anyone wishing to follow the right path would look closely at the Prince of Lilium, with his bright and kind features and no darkness in his eyes. For his sake, they would even shut their hearts, to do what was right.

If Schwartz was willing to attack the hero, they would prevent him from even touching a single strand of the hero’s hair. A villain must never win, and good will always defeat, vanquish evil. In these times of crisis, with the kingdom’s growing unrest year after year caused by the Zantedeschia, the populace was suffering. Inequality, famine, disease, they had been slowly creeping in Lilium, and Schwartz’s arrival would be the key to opening the forbidden box.

Thus, they needed to bring swift judgement to the villain trying to usurp power once more.

~ ° ~ 

“A paragon of virtue, the meaning of a hero,” Vil uttered those words, almost wounded.

“In my world, the origin of the word ‘Hero’ was one meaning Defender.”

“It’s the same as this world. Color me surprised, though, I wouldn’t put you as a reader.”

“How rude, senpai, even after all this time you still think the worst of me.” Ann pretended to sigh dramatically, though Vil just rolled his eyes. “You probably think I spend my time thinking of how to annoy you and picking my nose.”

He let out a chuckle, his now trademark sardonic smile aimed at her. “Given how much you neglect your appearance, would you blame me for believing it?”

~ ° ~ 

As they traveled, the burden of his secret mission weighed heavily on Schwartz’s shoulders, as he found himself growing attached to his companions. Keeping an aloof distance and not hiding his critical tongue and stoic and strict nature, he had assumed they would be simply people he would be using to achieve his goals. Schwartz had always been alone and feared by everyone, so he hadn’t expected anything else. The kind interaction of these people made him at times believe they could be friends, something he had once thought impossible.

After all, no one knew better than him that he was sullied with jealousy and anger, stains perhaps too deep in his soul to be the hero recognized by Durendal. After all, the legendary sword would only choose someone who was a hero and the more Schwartz looked at himself in the mirror, the further he traveled in his journey, the more he believed himself to be the villain, just as his ancestors before him.

~ ° ~ 

This time, Vil had no snappy retort or effusive reaction. Instead, he solemnly stared at the words in front of him, his lips pressed together into a thin line. He wouldn’t admit aloud that Schwartz’s feelings were hitting too close to home, the traces of his Overblot still lingering in his thoughts. His own failings caused his heart to be tainted with ink and even to his day, he struggled with his wish to be cast once as a hero, to prove he wasn’t the villain everyone appointed and believed he was.

His eyes briefly met Ann’s, before he diverted his gaze. He recalled the times she had called him several things, such as kind, that he, to this day, did not believe he was, and he wondered if there were some of those feelings portrayed in the script in his hands.

She didn’t say anything, as she quietly looked at him with a warm soft smile, in hopes that he kept on reading to find the answer he was suddenly seeking for.

~ ° ~

Just as the travelers arrived at the shrine where Durendal rested, Schwartz came to face his sworn enemy, Prince Weiss, the paragon of goodness and the hero of the land. He almost laughed maniacally, as the seven holy knights came to protect him. It would truly be a fight of good and evil, and for once he decided to unveil his ugly mask to the oblivious people who wrongly decided to accompany him.

~ ° ~ 

“Did you honestly write ‘Fighting scene goes here’?” Vil arched an eyebrow, with a dismissive and almost stunned glare at Ann, who simply blinked in return.

“Do I look like I know how those kind of fighting scenes normally go in a script?”

“Shouldn’t you know it? You ARE writing this after all.”

“You can make it up as you want.” Ann waved her hand nonchalantly, and Vil let out a groan. The nerve of the girl to leave out the most important part of the scene, and he thought of thousand ways to express his utter shock and frustration. Ann huffed. “If you really want it, you can pretend I wrote you kick Neige in the balls…Ah, but be careful with your heels, you might break his baby-making machine and that might give you trouble.”

“Baby. Making. Machine.”

“His dick, senpai. You break his dick.”

Vil’s blank expression was on her for a couple of seconds, before his line of sight was interrupted by her gently shoving the script toward his face.

~ ° ~ 

The knights defeated and Weiss wounded, Schwartz would lift his sword, deep in anger to decapitate his nemesis, at the protest of his friends. The anger of knowing that his family had been shunned for years for crimes they never committed, Schwartz finding himself damned for the only reason of being born under the Zantedeschia name fueled his fatal blow. As the sword fell like a guillotine, an arrow threw it away from its trajectory, his friends deciding to oppose him in a battle they knew they might lose. But they would face him because they knew what kind of person Schwartz truly was, cold and aloof, but secretly caring, and they didn’t want him to commit a heinous crime.

Somehow, his words reached Schwartz, horrified at the monster he had become. Falling on his knees, he threw away his magic tome and his sword, realizing he was no hero, he was the villain awaiting his execution. He would no longer be capable of wielding Durendal, no, the idea of wielding it was ridiculous from the very beginning. And to wound him further, his close knight Vert had picked up the Legendary Sword, handing it to a wounded Weiss, as he protected him from any harm on their escape.

“I was hoping you would recognize your own worth without needing external validation. You do not need Durendal. The wielder of Durendal is the one who shines like the sun, the most beautiful at heart. One day, you will surely be recognized, farewell, Schwartz, but my heart truly lies with Weiss, who is unclouded by sin and is as radiant as any star.”

Vert’s betrayal caused everyone to fall back, taking everyone by surprise. While Asfar, Burtiqali and Ai had caught grasp of Schwartz’s true intentions, they never realized Vert had sent a warning to Lilium. Tending their wounds, Schwartz finally explained the truth he had concealed.

Long ago, as a great war emerged, the Zantedeschia were one of many houses caught in the strife. Fighting to protect their territory and lending a hand to nearby lands, they grew in power, and lords of other lands deemed them too dangerous. While they hadn’t invaded other kingdoms, they were plagued by fear, and decided to vanquish them before they could do anything. And thus, they imparted their judgement and executed most of the royal family except for one who managed to escape, keeping the bloodline alive and hiding at the ends of the world.

They gave the honor to a random lowborn house, the Lilium, as they would make the better heroes for a loving fairytale. A chivalrous story of the good and weak defeating the evil and strong. Pinning all of their internal problems on the Zantedeschia, they decided it was for the best to brand them as the evil of the world, and thus it would be allowed to destroy them. Because Durendal happened to choose the prince of Lilium, they could embellish their tale which was no more than political machinations to benefit just a small few, while giving crumbs of justice to the unknowing folk.

And thus, with the passage of time, the world would know of the story of the evil Zantedeschia and the good Lilium and it became the truth for everyone. Except for the surviving bloodline of the Zantedeschia who relayed their truth to their successors, hoping that one day, they would finally be acquitted of something they never committed. And if Durendal chose any of them, then it would finally be proof that they weren’t the evil they were always thought to be.

“Did you want to wield Durendal for yourself or for your bloodline and your people?” Ai had posed this question to Schwartz, who had tried everything and had failed.

“For them, but also for myself, though it no longer matters. Someone like me isn’t meant to be a hero. Which Legendary Sword would choose a murderer driven by jealousy? Which kind of people would follow a hero tainted by anger, envy, and resentment? Weiss is as radiant as the sun, I am the cold moon doomed to die at every dawn.”

“I don’t believe you are the villain you have convinced yourself to be, nor is that one born a hero. If you still wish to try, there is still time for you to see if Durendal has rejected you.”

“Even if it doesn’t choose me, I want my clan’s name to be cleared for sins pinned on us.”

Because of Schwartz coming to Lilium, the official ceremony for Weiss to become the next wielder was rushed and would be before he was of age. It was also to quell people’s anger, as their issues in their land had become unbearable to wear and a hero would bring peace to the people, as Weiss truly believed with all of his heart. To bring light to cast away the shadows, he would take his place as the hero.

Apologizing for what he had done, Schwartz asked his friends if they would accompany in a final quest. If he were to be fought and executed, so be it, and if he was never to become Durendal’s wielder, so be it, but at least, he would want to denounce the infamy his family had been accused of. He would accept his death if it at least meant the truth was finally known, and with it the Zantedeschia would be no more. He was surprised when everyone decided to go on with the journey, everyone knowing what kind of man he was, and wishing to support him one last time.  Thus, Schwartz and his friends traveled to Lilium to set right what was wrong.

“I am Prince Schwartz Zantedeschia from the Araceae Kingdom and I have come to reclaim the innocence of my people, unjustly accused in the past of crimes they did not commit. If I have to fight the hero chosen by Durendal, so be it! But on this day, the truth shall be known!”

“I will not let you, Prince Schwartz,” Prince Weiss proclaimed. “The Zantedeschia have become the evil of this land, and will be purged once more. You even wanted to steal this holy blade, someone like you is unfit to be Durendal’s wielder.”

Prince Weiss fought Prince Schwartz, not letting him say anything else. And deeply wounded after so many battles, Prince Schwartz fell on his knee, the sign of his loss and imminent execution. With a heavy movement, Prince Weiss swung Durendal, only to find that it wouldn’t even touch one strand of Schwartz’s hair, falling to the ground and staying there unmoving no matter how hard Weiss tried to lift it.

For Durendal would never harm the wielder it had chosen.

Surprising everyone, Schwartz included, he found himself picking up the sword, glowing as beautifully as the sun, a sign it had picked his newfound hero. However, before anyone could rejoice, the flames of revolution stormed into place, as Schwartz and his friends had to flee Lilium.

~ ° ~ 

“And that’s when the first movie ends,” Ann chirped happily as Vil closed the script having finished reading it, “setting up the second one where Weiss goes batshit evil because he wasn’t the chosen hero as his land falls into shambles because of a revolution unfolding because the government was trash. Schwartz and his friends had to flee and embark on a journey to unfold a thousand year conspiracy and reveal the people behind the scenes of every tragedy. Burtiqali might or might not have to face the fact he kinda murdered Asfar’s dad and tried to set Asfar up but it blew up on him. Ai and Hai try to go back home, Violet has to reevaluate his relationship with Schwartz, tension between Vert and Scwhartz for the treason he committed, and Azure and Vermillion try to redeem themselves from their petty felonies while working as comic relief.”

Vil blinked for a moment before bursting out laughing for a couple of minutes. “A sequel, really? You even thought that far?”

“There are too many developments to fit in one movie. This isn’t a cash-grab sequel, it’s because the plot is too heavy to work in only one.”

“Pffft!” Vil couldn’t even stop himself from making that grin, between condescending and touched. “I didn’t know you had quite the imagination, I know you make a comic and you made your friends cry with it, but I didn’t expect a conspiracy for Legendary Sword. You truly never watched any of the films, the sword’s name is Excalibur by the way.”

“I knew the name, but Durendal fits better, duh. The meaning of Durendal’s name has been debated actually, but a common point is how it resists and endures. It was a sturdy sword, so of course it would endure, that is why it had to be the Legendary sword here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow your obtuse logic, Ann.”

“If you’ve read as much as you claim to have, you will concede that former heroes weren’t good-natured people. It was a term given to those humans who defied all odds to achieve something impossible. In fact, many of them were terrible people struggling with vices. It was with time, especially modern times, that the word hero morphed into what we see, the pure-hearted paragon of goodness.”

“I almost poisoned Neige. How many heroes kill their rival in a fit of jealousy?”

“I like reading, and I realized the most valuable heroes weren’t the ones who never did wrong, but the ones who faced their own weaknesses and demons, and at their lowest, they could go on. You aren’t born a hero, you become one. Durendal chose Schwartz because he was willing to live on with his resentment and envy and help others. Durendal recognized Schwartz’s struggles and the time and effort he had spent all his life, trying to live up to his own morals. He saved people he encountered because it was the right thing to do, even if it was at odds with his goals. Would you call a villain someone who helps others out of the wishes of their heart?”

Vil opened his mouth to refute everything she had said, but Ann lifted a hand, a sign she wasn’t even done.

“You didn’t harm Neige in the end, and you overblotted because you regretted what you were going to do. You had a moment of weakness because you bottled it all in and because you are human. But your weakness doesn’t define your worth, it’s how you deal with your failures and faults what does. I told you, didn’t I? You are a hero, Vil. And I thought of making a story for the hero you deserved to represent.”

“…You depicted what happened during the VDC. That is no original story,” he mumbled, though he wasn’t mocking her. In fact, he was saying it to try to confront his own mixed feelings, at how she had turned his own struggles in a story of him being the hero. To be seen at his worst, yet being given this…

“It stops being based on that at the end, and there’s still the sequel, don’t forget. I haven’t finished it, but it can be a future birthday gift, right? I am a no-name person, but I’m giving it to you so you can give it to a director or a producer or a big shot and tell him ‘Hey, I got this great idea for a movie’. Obviously, you are Schwartz, the description was there so no one would get funny ideas of casting Neige.”

“You have no idea how these things work. No one will take me seriously if I hand them this.”

“Then arrange for someone to hand it to them then, duh.”

Vil chuckled. “Of course, I might follow your whims, if you behave well. Though I can’t say I hated this gift, you’d better improve your written action scenes next time.” There was no way he was giving this to Adella.

With a bright smile, not knowing that her gift would never reach the light of any studio, Ann excused herself, not before waving at him as she disappeared from the corridor. Vil himself reached his own room, carefully closed the door and threw himself on his bed. The script was carefully held between his arms, as he sighed.

“What a naïve girl, no one would make this film,” he said to no one, disappointed.

Vil knew how the industry worked. Such a story as the one depicted in this tale deviated too much from the norm to become a mainstream film and the budget needed was too large for an independent studio. Thus, only Vil would know of this story, the story of Schwartz Zantedeschia.

Even so, he held the script tightly against his heart, as he closed his eyelids to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

-

This has a lot of Author’s notes to make things more understandable.

Every character’s name is, as you might have guessed, based on a particular color. The color designation was depending on the origin of the fairy tale. Schwartz (Vil), Weiss (Neige) and Violett (Epel) got the German names for the colors black, white and violet, respectively. Vert (Rook) is the only exception, his name coming from French for green, this is to highlight that in the end he is a traitor of sorts to Schwartz.

Azure (Deuce) and Vermillion (Ace)’s original story hails from England, so they got variants of blue and red. Aladdin was written by a Syrian author, so Asfur (Kalim) and Burtiqali (Jamil) are the Arabic words for yellow and orange. I don’t know Arabic, so I am not sure if that’s the proper way you’d spell those words in the English alphabet, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know. Finally, while Ann comes originally from England, her character Ai and Hai (Grim) are in a way from Japan, so they are the Japanese words for indigo and gray.

Every character’s last name comes from a particular flower. Schwartz’s comes from Zantedeschia, or the calla lily. The calla lily can be found in a purple color so deep it might even look black. In spite of its name, it is not a true lily, hence it comes from the Zantedeschia genus and from the Araceae family. In the language of flowers, it represents beauty (hence ‘calla’, beautiful in Greek), purity, holiness, faithfulness, rebirth and resurrection. Funny though, the flower IS poisonous because of course Vil gets a poisonous flower.  :^)

Meanwhile, Weiss’s Leiron is the Greek word people believe referred to the white Madonna lily, and his Kingdom’s name is Lilium, the Genus for the lily flowers. Lilies have different meanings, depending on the color. White ones represent virginity, purity and modesty, while yellow ones represent falsehood and gaiety and orange means hatred. It is used in funerals in the west and are actually poisonous as well.

The other kingdoms come from the family of the Roses (Heartslabyul people), Chrysanthemums (Ann and Grim), and Jasmine (Kalim and Jamil). Because the author of the story of Aladdin is from Syria, I picked the national flower from that country.

Also, it’s ok Vil, you can make it an anime, or you can blackmail Crowley for $$$ and make it your club’s pet project :^)  Ehehehe

It was longer than expected, but I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading!

[taeswurld]

Ace III [Sporky]

pairing: bakugo x fem!reader

genre: humor, romance

TW: violence, cursing, angst, fluff

Summary: Shifting into My Hero was a total mistake, all those tiktoks you watched on a daily about shifting somehow convinced your brain to take part. Now the question is how to wake up, and most importantly, DON’T GET ATTACHED TO STUPID DRAWINGS!

A/N:

New chapter! Not sure how my upload schedule will go, I’ll probably just wing it or something. And I don’t really know in what direction I wanna take this fic, but I promise to make it as great as possible! Anywho, here’s sporky!

{ACE MASTERLIST}

Oops. Well it’s clear what big of a mistake you’ve just made. 

While being on the verge of passing out, you decided to grab the closest thing next to you, so you don’t fall and hit your head. Instead of a counter or wall (or literally anything else) you decided to grab onto an arm. 

A very muscular and warm arm. 

You quickly retract your arm to look straight into glowing red eyes. They look at you in that moment with so much hated and anger, that you literally had to do a double take.

Jesus did you kill this dude’s grandma or something? What is going on?

“Next time you even think about touching me, I’ll be sure to remind you why I’m the strongest guy here.” 

“Well shit my bad, no need to act like I shoved a scorpion up your ass. Jesus christ, what the fuck is your problem man? Did someone spit in your coffee or something?” You move to walk away, you are not about to deal with someone who acts like complete dick. Before you could though, this asshole grabs your arm and pulls you back.

“What did you say, extra? Alright then since you act so tough, fight me! I doubt you would win though, I mean, you have a weak ass quirk anyways!” He shouts as explosions start to come out of his hand, putting it up to you face as to scare you. 

Wait, pause. You just realized you have a quirk. I mean it had to be good enough to get into U. A. But what was it? Was it like Aang, and you were like some type of avatar? Or were you more like Wonder Woman, and had super strength? Or were you like Spiderman, and could climb walls with spidey-senses? Or maybe, you were just incredibly smart, like Batman or Iron Man? No, that wouldn’t make sense, they would’ve thrown you into the support course if that was the case. Or maybe, you could-

“Hey! Did your dumbass not hear me? Or are you deaf as well as stupid?”

Okay. That’s fucking it. 

You were hungry, had an agitated dog, and you still haven’t gotten your stupid pills. 

You push the guy off you with as much strength as you could (which wasn’t much) and growled at him. 

Yes, growled at him. 

“Bro, shut the fuck up! No one wants to fucking hear you scream at 7 in the fucking morning! Just stay fucking quiet! Or are you too fucking stupid to do that? Your dumbassery is getting on my last fucking nerves, so just SHUT THE FUCK UP!” 

Immediately, everyone backed away, and looked scared to be within 5 feet of you. And you don’t blame them, you always looked scary when you were really mad. You’re glad your angry, and not frustrated. Otherwise, you would’ve broke into tears. Nope, all you felt right now was pure hatred and rage. 

You took a quick peek at your reflection in the microwave and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 

You had a white aura around you, and your eyes were a dark blue, with a little bit of fog coming out of them. With you’re pajamas still on, your eye bags, and a little bit of smudged mascara from yesterday, you look like you crawled out of the straight depths of sleepy hell. Hiro growling next to you waiting for your orders to attack didn't exactly help you look any friendlier. 

You quickly calmed down, and decided to just take a quick breath, and whistled for Hiro to back off as well.

“Okay, I’m calm. Does anyone know where the Tylenol is? I have headache. I also need food, not just for me, but for Hiro. I’m sorry for yelling, I’m just really irritated right now, so I ask that no one pushes my buttons.” You take another breath, just to calm your heart rate. 

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, no worries Y/N. I know how Bakugou can get on your nerves pretty badly.” A girl with pink hair quickly comes up to you. Well, not just pink hair, pink everything. 

“Here, Ochako, you know where the pills are right? Go get them from the medicine cabinet. I’ll go get you some breakfast, hun.” She quickly runs off to get me some much needed food. The girl with the short fringe, Ochako you assume, goes off to get you my stupid pills.

“Koda, would you mind going to Hiro-san and asking what he might want to eat? I’ll help out.” The boy with green hair asks. A really big guy comes up to Hiro, and tries to whisk him away. 

“Hey! Sorry to disappoint but he stays with me. I’m on edge right now and he’s the only dude who can calm me down.” They are not to about to take him away, you don’t know these guys yet enough to trust them, you still don’t even know how you got here. Hiro’s pretty much the only thing closest to home, if he leaves now God knows what could happen. 

“Oh! I apologize L/N-san. He already told me his answer anyways, so I’ll go prepare his breakfast so you can both relax!” He blushes, and bows before running off to make some food. 

“Thanks, sorry for yelling. I’m just kinda anxious right now.” Hiro barks as if to agree with you. It’s not even 8 a.m and you’re both already done with this bullshit. 

“It's okay L/N-san. Last night, you got hit pretty hard, you we’re not going to blame you for being a little rough around the edges.” The boy with green hair says before walking away to join the other dude. Jesus, you really need to know everyone’s name. You can’t call them ‘dude’ and ‘guy’ forever. 

“L/N-san! Sorry about Bakugou! I know the two of you seem to bash heads a lot, but I promise you that he doesn't mean it!” 

A cute little redhead comes up to you. He looks really sweet, except for his razor sharp teeth that look like they could cut thought anything. He puts his hand on you shoulder, as a little gesture to calm you down a little. Apparently Hiro didn’t like it, because he started to growl. 

‘Back off, dude. Don’t touch,’ he seemed to say. 

“Oi! Shiity hair!” Oh god. “Don’t apologize on my behalf! It makes you look stupid, and me look weak!” The red eyed blonde from earlier walks over. 

‘Shitty hair’, or whatever his real name was, put his hands up and took his place next to the blonde, tossing his arm around him. 

“Come on, Bakugou! You’re always fighting with her, maybe it’s best to just chill down! Come on! It’s a beautiful Saturday, we don't have any plans except to relax! We should totally go out! When was the last time we hung out with the class?” 

“Tch, I don't want to deal with these extras longer than I already have to. Besides, when doesn’t she get on my fucking nerves? That’s the only thing she’s good for anyways.” He shoves the red head’s arm off of him and stares at me.

“Come on Kacchan! You know she’s only teasing! Besides, you need to learn to be sweeter to girls! This is probably why you don't have a girlfriend, and why Ca-”

‘Kacchan’, or ‘Bakugou’, you’re not even sure anymore, grabs the pikachu looking dude from earlier by his shirt and looks like he’s about to punch him. 

“Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence Dunce Face! And besides, it’s not like your desperate ass could get pussy anyways!” 

The piss-yellow blonde immediately gets scared and screams to run away. 

“Well you don’t have to say it like that, ya know! At least Y/N likes me!” He comes over to me and puts his arm around you. He pulls you into his chest and places his head on top of yours. Since you're sitting, it’s quite easy for him to tower you. 

“Not now dude, you are on my last fucking nerve.” You muffle into his chest as you move to push him off. 

Okay, super strength is for sure not your quirk. 

“Right, your pissed right now, sorry. By the way, I’ll go get you some wipes for your makeup. You look like a demon right now, no offense.” He runs off to God knows where, finally letting you breathe. 

“None taken,” you mutter. 

“Y/N! I brought the Tylenol, and some water for your to drink!” Ochaco comes back with a small pill tablet and a glass of water. As she hands you everything, she rubs your back as to say ‘don't worry, you’re in good hands now’. 

“L/N-san! Hiro’s food is ready! Midoriya helped out, so the process went by faster.” Koda and the green haired kid, Midoriya, comes back with a bowl of kibble and some steak. 

Of course Hiro would ask for steak. Why did you even bother? 

“Y/N! I’m back!” The pink girl from earlier comes with some rice and eggs. Weird combination, but okay. 

“I know you’re still getting a little used to using chopsticks, not being from Japan and all, so I had to look around for a fork.” You hands you your breakfast and a spoon. 

“Um, this is a spoon.” You say, holding it up for her to see.

“Yeah, I know. I said I had to look around, I never said I was successful.” She gave me a smile and little shrug before walking away. 

Oh boy. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Quarantine fun times and tickles; Joe Mazzello x reader

*Author’s note*

As many of us in the BoRhap fandom know from Joe’s recent video, I couldn’t help but make a fanfic inspired from that video that just makes me smile from ear to ear. In light of these dark times, esp. when states or countries are officially going on FULL lockdown isolation. But I hope in light of the events going on in the world, this fic gives you guys some fluffy feels. Just side note I DO NOT OWN any of the shows mentioned here, they belong to their owners and stations.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@simonedk​

@kairosfreddie​

@soy-guey​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

__________________________________________________________

With this whole Corona quarantine putting everyone in isolation, I was thankful that my boyfriend of over 3 years Joe Mazzello was home again.  He was doing some film with my favorite childhood actress Ashley Tisdale (of course he wouldn’t tell me the name of the project, just something having to do with ducks and them up in a farm).  But now the project has been put on hold and now Joe and I were stuck at home just doing whatever.

I was currently sitting down in the living room watching the Ridiculousness weekend marathon that MTV is doing every weekend in order to keep everyone inside.  The show was one of my guilty pleasures cause it’s the only show on MTV I watch.  

Yeah they do some of the gross stuff like puking or farts, but they also do some really funny, epic or cute videos (and those are what I love).

I just saw a video of a man trying to leap up on a trashcan and he managed to successfully jump up on top of it and not fall through.  But when his friend tried to do the same trick, his feet went right through the lid and he as well as the trashcan fell over and he slammed his back right on the concrete.

“Ohh! Ow! He is not Elf material.”

“Too much weight.” Both Steelo and Channel said and I nodded in agreement.  

“Definitely too much weight. That guy was definitely not Elf material. Too much force on his knees when he did the jump.” It was then I heard the muffled shouts of my boyfriend coming up from our room.  “Oh dear, he’s at it again.”

I forced myself off the couch and walked up the stairs and as I got closer to the bedroom, I heard Joe’s voice proclaimed.

“CAN’T TELL THE DIFFERENCE CAN YAH?! I’ll just wear this to auditions. Perfect. THANKS FOR NOTHING!!!” I opened the door and I said.

“Have you finally cracked under the pressure of quarantine again Joey?”

“Baby no I’m making a Youtube video for my channel.” He answered.

“Oh shit I’m sorry.”

“Hey no swearing missy! This is a family show! Folks I’d like to introduce you to someone you know, my lovely lady (y/n). Yeah everybody there’s my gorgeous girl right there.” He turned his camera right at me and I shyly ducked my face into my hands and gave the camera a wave.

“Please tell me you aren’t live streaming right now.”

“Nah I’m just gonna upload it later on.” He set the camera back down and I sat down on the bed and said.

“What’s got you to upset this time? I could hear you screaming from downstairs.”

“Not intentionally mad. Just—tell me and be honest. Do I really look like this stuffed animal broccoli thing?” he held up the bigger sized stuffed broccoli with the smiley face. “Cause a fan said this reminds them of me in Bohemian Rhapsody. And I thought the whole purpose of being a stan was to be nice to them. This qualifies as unattractive.”

He held it up to his face so that I could see if there was a resemblance between the two.  I put on my thinking face and stroked my imaginary beard before I deducted.

“Wow…..they’re right I can hardly tell the difference.”

“R-Really? You too? My god you—see even my own girlfriend turned against me! THANK YOU!!” he cried out.  I shook my head at my silly man before he deeply exhaled and said. “You know what, you deserve a broccoli punch.”

“Oh no!”

“Oh yeah.” He said with a quick nod and had an evil look on his face.

“Joe I love you but I swear to god if you do this there will be no more texting Ben in the group chats for a month.”

“I normally would act all dramatic and plead and beg for you not to do that. But I feel too betrayed to succumb to that.” He grabbed the bigger sized broccoli and I quickly raced out of the room.

But Joe quickly intercepted me and threw me over his shoulder.  I shrieked and repeatedly punched his back.

“Joseph Francis Mazzello III you put me down this minute! Put me down or you will suffer the consequences!” he flipped me over onto the bed and got on top of me.  He grabbed both my wrists and held them up over my head before changing his grip from both hands to just one holding my wrists together.

Then with no warning or even a chance to have me take back my statement, Joe went ahead and gave me one of his infamous ‘broccoli punches’.

“Joe! JOE WAHAHAHAHIHEHEHT! NOOO!!!”

“Nope you must suffer a broccoli punch. Each accounting for your age.”

“WHAT!? YOU’LL DO THIS ALL DAY THEN!!! YOU COUNT SLOW!!!”

“Oh-ho another insult? Well then I’d say we double them then.”

“NOOOOO!! OKAY! OKAY! OKAY I’M SORRY! UNCLE! UNCLE!” He stopped and his face hovered over mine.

“You gonna surrender?”

“Yes.”

“And you take back what you said about me looking like that gross vegetable?”

“Can I just say one thing?”

“If it’s negative, you’re gonna get raspberries on your tummy for five straight minutes. No stopping.” I cupped his face and said.

“The only thing that’s similar between you guys, besides the top head of it when you had the floofy wig, is that both of you have this wide, dazzling, adorable smile.” He looked down at me with an unreadable expression.

But then a split second later, he leaned down and captured my lips with his.  I stroked his scruffy cheek and kissed him back with a little more passion.  I softly moaned as I moved my hand through his messy auburn hair.  His kisses then moved up and down the right side of my neck, getting around my sweet spot (cause I’m more sensitive on the right side of my neck than my left. And Joe LOVES to exploit that).

I felt his hand go under my shirt slowly sliding up as he continued to kiss up and down my neck.  I exhaled a moan and that’s when my attention was sent right to the camera that was still recording.

“Wait. Wait Joe, Joey, Joey!” I said snapping out of it trying to get him off of me.

“What?” he groaned impatiently.

“The camera’s still recording.” I said to him. He turned towards it and made one of those goofy surprise noises he sometimes makes as he quickly raced over towards it and shut it off.  I giggled in embarrassment. “Oh thank god you were not live streaming.”

“Yeah. But on one hand we could relive that moment forever and ever.”

“And on another note, you and I would be jobless.” I sassed him back.

“Good point. Plus I don’t want any perverts looking at your body. The only one allowed to do that is me.” I chuckled and rolled my eyes as him as I threw the smaller broccoli stuffy at him. “Rude much babe!”

“Then stop saying silly stuff!” I said.  “Other than that, let me see what else the fans have given you.”

“Oh well I know how much you like Russian nesting dolls, so I got this custom made Bohemian Rhapsody nesting doll.” He then showed me what a fan had made him.

“Oh my god.” We sat there on the bed and I held it in my hands. “Of course Rami being the main display, let’s see whose next.” I opened it up and there was Gwilym in his Oscar’s suit.

“You got your Gwilym, my buddy.”

“Yep one of your lovers.” I teased.

“Hey, you know you’re my number 1.”

“Really? I thought that was Ben Cardy.”

“Well—” I shoved his shoulder. “I’m kidding! It’s you. It’s always been you, it’s always gonna be you.” I smiled at him before turning back to the nesting doll.  Next was Ben in his Oscar white suit, wearing his shades and his lips pursed in that “Ooo” fashion.  “And finally you have…..” I opened it up and the smallest doll was my baby Joey.

“You. The heart and soul of the movie.”

“Yep. Me. Inside—of Ben.”

“Ugh gross Joe!” I groaned out.

“Pervert. You’re just as bad as them!” he gestured to the camera.

“You seriously need to think before you speak Joey. Cause I swear…..GAHHH NO NOT AGAIN!!!” he tackled me to the bed and proceeded to tickle my stomach once again.  He even gave the right side of my neck raspberries and ticklish nips.

“Take it back. Take it back.” He ordered me.

“I TAKE IT BACK!! I TAKE IT BAHAHAHACK!!” I proclaimed which made him stop and look down at me. “Why do you always have to tickle me in order to get me to agree with you?”

“Cause it’s fun.” He shrugged nonchalantly.  “And it makes your cuteness factor go way up.” He said as he rose his arm up over his head to show me just how much my cuteness factor is.

“You’re a dork.”

“But I’m your dork. Whom you love and treasure and will never upset because he knows your weakness.” He said as he nuzzled his nose into my neck and squeezed my sides which made me shriek and him chuckle evilly.

“Please Joey no more tickling.” I whined as I pouted up at him.

“Okay no more for today.” He pecked my lips before playfully booped my nose.  We smiled at each other as his nose would gently brush up against mine. “So what shall we do today?”

“You not gonna finish your video for your fan gifts?”

“I’ll finish it later. Besides I’ll need to cut out that brief PG-13 make out session.”

“Yes please do.”

“So since I heard you laughing and groaning downstairs that could only mean you were watching the Ridiculousness marathon. May I join you?”

“You may good sir. Then afterwards we can catch you up on the Marvel movies.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. I gotta get you on Team Cap before you watch Civil War.”

“Sorry babe, I’m Team Ironman all the way. And I haven’t even watched all of them or in order.”

“Traitor why though!?” I whined.

“Can’t go wrong with RDJ, he’s a legend. How can you turn your back on him? Rami did a freakin movie with him just this year!”

“Yeah but Steve made some good points in the film that you’ll understand. I will convert you to Team Cap by the end.”

“Yeah right.” We got up from the bed as the two of us continued to bicker about who was better Cap or Ironman as we went downstairs and a new episode of Ridiculousness was starting up.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Screaming Salvation (Part two)

Was supposed to upload one a day of these until I run out and totally forgot lmaoooo

Let me know what you guys are thinking of this so far. This story may be somewhat darker than my usual. I don't know if dark is the right word for it but there is a lot of hurt and healing and shit involved. 

Fun fact! The name of the fic was originally ‘The Hurt, The Hope’. Which is another As It Is song from the same album. I think it's self-explanatory why. The hurt is all they've been through, the hope is the kids. Carl, Judith and the new baby are the future of this new world. But I thought the other song fit it better so I changed it.

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

It had been a few hours since they’d found Rosalie, and they'd done nothing but walk. Her already tired body and sore feet were screaming at her, and the cut on her arm was throbbing. Rick had said once they found shelter someone would stitch it for her. They didn't have time to stop and do it out in the open, it was too dangerous and it was getting dark. Some people had tried to introduce themselves. A woman named Maggie and her husband Glenn finding it their job to be the welcome party. Maggie pointed to everyone in the group and told her their names but she found it hard to care. She doubted she would be staying long. Once the woman realised the new girl didn't want to speak, only nodding or shaking her head and staring off at nothing, she decided it was best to leave her be. Maggie wondered if she was always like this or if it was the trauma of the day. 

Rosalie noticed the crossbow guy, Daryl apparently, walking next to her the whole time. He seemed to do this thing where it felt like he projected outwards, like a protective shell that encompassed her and the baby. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it or just delirious from lack of blood and food. He never strayed far from her, and when they had to stop for a small break if someone got too tired, he seemed to hover close to her. Always alert and tense as he watched out for threats. He never seemed to let his guard down, and Rosalie knew that feeling. She had to be that way surviving on her own. If it wasn't for the fact she was injured and stupidly fucking tired, she would be the same way in that moment. The only reason she had some semblance of not being wound so tightly was the fact that she was with people, strength in numbers. She felt his gaze on her every so often but didn't care, keeping her eyes ahead. She had felt from the get-go that Daryl could easily suss people out. She just figured maybe that's what he was doing. She couldn't bring herself to care if he was. She wasn't a threat to his people, not unless they were a threat to her.

When they finally found shelter, she almost fell to the floor and kissed it out of desperation. She was beyond tired and she really didn't want to be out late in the dark with the baby. It was a run-down cabin in the woods, and after clearing it, they all filled in. They sat in the living space, a fire going to keep them warm, and the red-headed man and Latina woman took watch at the windows. When Rick handed her a bottle of formula like he promised, Rosalie felt like someone had cracked open all of her ribs. The pain and guilt were eating her alive. Even though she wasn't thrilled to be hanging with a group, she was grateful and she wanted to thank him. The words wouldn't come out though but Rick could see it in her eyes, how touched she was. He just gave her a warm smile and a pat to the shoulder. It was strange to her, ever since she relented to his request to join them, he’d acted like she was one of them. Part of the group. His words from earlier echoed in her mind. We look out for our own. She didn't feel like part of the group though. She didn't feel like one of them, and she didn’t want to. She felt like an outsider. A mere travel companion until she got her shit together enough to trust that she could look after the baby outside, or leave the baby with them. She was sitting near the fire for warmth, near the group but not directly next to anyone, clearly keeping her distance. And as soon as the boy greedily drank the formula, he happily nuzzled into her and fell asleep in her arms in his dirty blue onesie.

“How old is he?” Maggie asked from across the fire, her eyes on the sleeping boy with a caring smile. Rosalie nibbled her lip a little, avoiding all the eyes that seemed to fall on her. She never liked being the centre of attention. It felt like being the new girl in school all over again.

“I don't know,” was her blunt reply, causing a few raised eyebrows and some frowns.

“You don’t know?” Carol asked her, looking almost incredulously at her. Like how can someone not know how old their baby was, the idea was absurd.

“He’s not mine, I found him two months ago,” she said tensely, her hands protectively tightening around the boy as she glanced up, shooting a glare to the older woman. She noticed Carol's eyes widen a little, and something akin to pity or sadness crossing her features. She presumed most of the others did the same.

“You found him?” Rick asked her curiously. He was sitting off to her right, next to his son Carl and Daryl. Judith on Carl's lap. Rosalie chewed the inside of her cheek trying not to get agitated by the people that had helped her. It was natural they were curious, but she didn't want to talk about it. When she talked about it, it meant it was real and that she was in fact the sole carer of a baby that wasn't hers. She felt that crushing weight of pressure in her chest again.

“He was in the woods alone outside. I heard him crying and went to look… His mom wasn't too far away getting made into a snack,” she muttered with a dark glare at Rick, making it obvious this wasn't something she wanted to talk about. She saw the man swallow thickly and glance to the sleeping boy. She knew too well what he was thinking. How if she hadn't turned up the baby would have been next, and that was a dark thought indeed. But to the group, it also spoke volumes about what kind of person she was. To save the baby, to raise him as her own. A baby in this world was no easy feat. It was like an alarm bell for dinner for the dead, and it made it so much harder to survive. Yet she had done it, no hesitation.

A dark silence took over the group, grim thoughts swirling around their mind. Most of them thinking about baby Judith and how lucky she was not to be in that situation.

“Have you named him?” Carl spoke up, his eyes looked upon her kindly. She didn't know how she felt about that. She tensed a little, the archer next to Rick noticing. He’d noticed everything about her, observant as ever.

“I just call him Tiny,” she shrugged, making Carl snort a little. The adults didn’t find it amusing though because they knew. They knew why the boy had no name. Rosalie was terrified of naming the boy, terrified of forming an attachment other than keeping him alive for fear that something would happen. To her or the baby, none of which mattered. But ultimately the girl knew deep in her bones that one way or another, they would be separated, and she was scared to become attached to him. 

Her eyes drifted to the little boy sleeping soundly curled into her. Despite every effort to not get attached to him, the girl who held no hope long before the turn had gotten very attached to him. She fucking hated herself for it, for making herself so weak and vulnerable.

“I think he looks like a Jacob,” Carol mused softly, a smile directed at the baby in Rosalie's arms.

“I like that name for him, suits him,” Maggie grinned, making Rosalie clench her jaw at people trying to name the baby that was her responsibility and hers alone. Again that conflicting feeling. She had thought about leaving the boy with them, she shouldn't be getting angry at them for naming him. What the fuck did she care? But she did, she fucking cared and it made her mad.

Much to her relief the focus soon turned from her and the boy, to people just talking to each other. She kept feeling eyes on her and when she glanced up, she noticed Daryl looking right at her through his hair as he chewed his thumb. He didn't look away, the both of them just looking at each other for a moment before Rosalie looked down at the baby. She wasn't sure what was going on with the man. She couldn't figure out if he wanted to protect her or put a bolt through her heart at the first chance he’d get. She was struggling to get a read on him now with his stoic gaze. 

She felt her stomach grumble and she couldn't remember the last time she ate. She grabbed her pack and looked around, finding what she was looking for; squirrel meat wrapped in cloth. She’d caught it herself with the bow the ugly assholes from earlier had taken from her. Lucky for her, it was the only thing they had taken. But it was still a big blow as she didn't know how else to hunt for food. She had prepped it, rationing it and storing it in her bag. She didn't have much, yet for just her and the baby, it would have lasted about a week. Her eyes looked around at the others, noticing they too hadn’t eaten since they found her. She growled inwardly at the niggling feeling inside of her, telling her to share her food, to do the right thing. She wouldn't have to deal with this shit if she was alone. But they had helped her, and Rick had given her formula for the baby without any fuss or hesitation. She couldn't ignore that. She sighed a little as she took the meat wrapped in cloth, reaching over to Rick next to her and silently handing it to him. She heard the soft murmur of conversion stop around her, once more being the focus of attention she’d rather not have. 

Rick looked at her confused before he unwrapped it, his stomach partially growling when he saw the meat. He knew it wasn't much for their group, but it was more than enough. More than what they currently had, which was nothing. And what's more, it was obvious this was precious to her. This was hers and would have kept her going for quite a bit. He looked a little surprised at the gesture and looked at her. She felt the heat creeping its way up her chest to her cheeks. She really hated people noticing her existence. She wasn't used to it. To Rick, although the gesture was a simple one, it carried a lot of weight to him. She could have easily not told them about it, or even just cooked it for herself. But she chose to share it with him, with his group. It was yet another thing that spoke volumes to him of what kind of person she was.

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. Of course he fucking wanted the food, he needed it, they all did. Daryl had not been able to find anything when he’d gone hunting earlier that day and they were all starved. But he also didn't want her to feel like she had no choice but to hand it over to them. She just gave him a nod before looking back at the boy, stroking his dark hair a little as if to ground her. She felt uncomfortable being around this many people. All these eyes watching her and judging her. It made her skin crawl.

“Thank you,” Rick smiled. A real genuine smile that he couldn't remember the last time was on his face. The others murmured the same as they looked at her, grateful for her help, but she didn't want any of it. She wanted them to stop looking at her. Carol took the meat and started cooking it as everyone fell into conversation again, making her relax just slightly. She chanced a glance up again only to see Daryl's eyes once again on hers. But this time he gave her a little nod of thanks, seeming to take note of how uncomfortable she was with everyone looking at her and making it into a big deal. He knew that feeling all too well, he was the same. He remembered back in the prison, how people acted like he was some sort of hero for going out hunting and he hated that shit. She returned the nod and glanced back down. She really didn't know how she felt about this group yet. It wasn't long after that the meat was cooked due to how small she had cut it up, and they all ate in companionable silence. Grateful for the food in their bellies, even if it wasn't that much.

She sighed and tried to get comfortable and winced at her arm again. It hadn't been stitched. She had been adamant the baby needed food first and then he’d fallen asleep. It had stopped bleeding, the blood coagulating and starting to form a scab, but it was still hurting and pulled every time she moved it.

“Let's get you stitched up,” Rick said softly, noticing her reaction to moving her arm. He didn't want the girl's arm to get infected and it didn't take a genius to see how little she seemed to care for her own well being over the boy’s. Rather letting him sleep comfortably than get her arm seen to. Daryl got up without prompting and rummaged through a duffel, getting out a first aid kit and walking over to her. He sat beside her, glancing at the baby. He couldn't do this when she was holding him, but he wasn’t sure just how to voice it. Not when he’d observed how protective she was over him. She looked at the man, knowing what he was thinking, and Maggie picked up on it too.

“I can take him for you,” she offered with a warm smile. Rosalie tensed a little, her arm holding the boy tighter, something else that Daryl observed. He could see the war inside of herself. To trust a stranger to hold the boy, and he watched her carefully as she finally relented. He knew it was a hard decision for her to make, and he knew if the shoe was on the other foot and it was Judith, he would have been the same. Maggie gently took the sleeping baby, grinning as she looked down upon him as she held him close. Rosalie looked at her, Maggie looked like a doting mother. It made her heart hurt and she swallowed thickly. Maybe Maggie would be a good person to trust the boy with. She felt eyes on her and glanced to see Daryl, still sat next to her watching her with careful eyes. It was almost like he knew just what she was thinking. That she was going to leave the baby with them because she felt useless and inadequate to do the job herself. She looked down from his gaze, it made her feel stripped bare. 

“Let me see it,” his voice was gruff but his tone was soft. It was a strange combination but she gave in anyway, lifting her arm to him with a wince. He took it in his large hands, examining it, furrowing his brow a little as he did and sucking through his teeth. It was bad, she was already aware of that. The man didn't know how she was acting so put together about it, like it was a tiny scratch. He grabbed a cloth and some alcohol to clean the wound before glancing at her through his long hair.

“S’gon’ hurt like a bitch,” he warned, his tone apologetic. He felt like the poor girl had already been through enough for one day, but if he didn't stitch her up it wouldn't end well for her. She looked at him and just gave a curt nod. She was well aware it would hurt, it wasn't the first time she’d been through this. 

He looked at her a little apprehensive for a moment, almost like he didn't want to do it. Up close like this he could see her very clearly. She was pretty and looked young, no older than 25. It was an odd combination with her fierce nature he had seen when she almost chopped off that pricks head right off his skinny ass shoulders. He saw the rage that took over her, he fucking felt the same rage when the asshole had muttered those vile fucking words that made him feel like he was going to throw up everywhere. He’d heard her growl and snarl like a wild wolf protecting her pup. And now seeing her up close, he was almost startled by how soft her face was. Her dark brown hair was matted and caked in blood and grime. He noticed it was chopped crudely to just above her shoulders, almost like she had taken a knife to it and hacked at it herself. Her eyes were wide, a light blue. Yet despite their colour, they looked dull, jaded at the things she had endured. Even through the layers of dirt and blood that covered her skin, he could see she was pale as can be, but it suited her. He could also see just how tired she was, and he wondered how the fuck this tiny little thing had not only managed to keep herself alive for so long, but the boy too. 

He was shocked when she had said the baby wasn't hers, that she had found him. From how protective she was of the boy, he never would have guessed she had been with him for only two months. That she wasn't his blood. He found himself grateful. Not only for the fact the baby was found at all before he endured something so horrific, but that it was Rosalie who had found him. How she had taken it upon herself to keep him alive no matter the cost. He was glad when Rick had made the decision to invite her to join them. He knew some others were a little apprehensive at first, but he knew why Rick had done so. And the reason was Judith. Daryl felt the same ache deep in his chest the second he heard the baby who was strapped to the scared girl. He felt like his stomach dropped right out of his ass and he couldn't possibly harm the girl when she was with a baby. Not unless she was a complete threat to them, which he knew she wasn't. He was ready to shoot if needed, but he could tell straight off the bat she wasn't a threat to him or the group unless they struck first. She had been desperate and wild-looking. He dreaded to think the hell she had been through to have that jaded look in her eyes, and he found an intense need to protect her and the boy. Gravitating towards them as they walked and keeping alert. He could see when she walked how tired she was. How she winced and limped a little and he knew her feet were hurting her. He couldn't imagine how she ever got any damn rest when it was just her and the boy. No one to take watch shifts with, to ever feel somewhat safe to sleep or stop for a rest. So he’d found himself by her side, protective and guarding, hoping she could sense that she could at least not be so alert and have some kind of rest. To know someone had her back for once. 

He realised he’d been staring at her arm for a moment deep in thought, and as much as he didn't want to hurt her, feeling the guilt bubbling inside of his chest. He knew he’d feel a fuck tonne more guilty if she died from infection and left the baby without his guardian. He’d noticed the look Rosalie gave Maggie, and he hoped he was fucking wrong about it. He couldn't shake the feeling the girl might up and leave, leaving the boy with them. He wasn't even angry about it. He knew why she would do such a thing, he saw it as clear as day in her eyes the moment she watched the boy with Maggie. She felt like she wasn't good enough, wasn't able to keep him alive. Guilty for not being able to look after him on her own as well as a group could have. But he didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay, for her and the baby to become part of the group. And he really hoped he was fucking wrong about what he thought. 

He got the thread ready with a needle, dowsing the needle in the alcohol to sterilize it. With one hand firmly gripping her arm, the other deftly started sewing the awful wound closed. She clenched her jaw, exhaling hard through her nose as she breathed through the pain without making a peep. It unsettled Daryl. It was almost like she'd experienced pain all too much in her life that she was used to it. No one else would have been able to act like that under the circumstances. He tried to work quickly and when he was done, he gave it another wipe with alcohol. He looked down at his work as did she, it wasn't perfect by any means but it was closed and that's what mattered. It would scar though, and the thought made Daryl angry. Angry that she would have a permanent reminder of those assholes and the things they said. The things they could have done to her and the boy before they even came across them. He wrapped her arm in a bandage, his rough hands surprisingly delicate as he undertook his task.

“Thanks,” she muttered, her voice quiet and raw sounding. He’d noticed the only few times she had spoken that her voice was quiet, and sounded so tired he wondered how she hadn’t just lay down and conked right out. He gave her a little nod and put the stuff back in the first aid kit, but he didn’t move back to his spot beside Rick. Instead he stayed next to her, leaning against the wall. She felt it again, the weird projection thing he seemed to do, and she wondered if he even knew he was doing it. She grabbed her pack and took out some dirty clothes, laying them on the floor next to her. She looked at Maggie expectantly, and Maggie gave her a sheepish smile as she handed the baby back over. Rosalie lay the baby down on the pile of clothes like a tiny makeshift mattress, before draping the blanket she used to carry him over him gently. Then she curled up next to him, protectively, her back to Daryl and the rest of them. She needed sleep so she felt better in the morning when they would head out again.

Despite the fact she was still slightly wary of the group, they'd done nothing but help her and the baby, and she was grateful. She was grateful to have a roof over their heads, for the baby to have food in his belly that he needed so desperately. To have some respite from being alone. For the fact she would be able to sleep for once. The strange projection that Daryl omitted made her feel safe. Like somehow without words, by staying next to her, giving off that vibe, he was saying to her to get some rest and she didn't need to worry. That her and the baby were safe and he wouldn't let anything happen to them. And she didn't need telling twice. Her exhausted body fell asleep instantly, her hand on the infant's tummy like she needed reassurance he was still there with her.

[dottielovegood]

ASMR - chapter 2

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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Since a few people seemed to enjoy the first chapter, I decided to continue this story.  You can find the first chapter here And you can read the story on AO3 here.

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CHAPTER 2

Flower Girl ASMR 1 day ago I am so happy that I could help you sleep, @Shadowsinger <3 ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It is that tingly feeling you might get from certain sounds. You can also have visual triggers. Supposedly, if you find the right triggers, they will help you relax and they can even help you sleep.  I hope that sleep treats you with kindness from now on.

Azriel stared at his screen. She had responded. She had actually responded to his message. He had scrolled through her comment section again to see if she replied to all her messages, but she didn’t. She liked most comments, but she only replied to a few. It made him feel special, which was absurd. Why did he feel special because some girl on the internet had replied to his comment? She had probably already forgotten about it.

But Azriel carried it with him for the rest of the day.

He also carried with him the annoyance of some of the comments he had seen. This girl really needed to learn how to block some words. Especially: boobs, nudes, cock, jerk off, and cum. Azriel made a disgusted face when he thought about it. If they knew each other, he would help her with that.

But they didn’t know each other, so Azriel didn’t have to think about it. Those comments shouldn’t affect Azriel in the slightest. He had read way nastier things on the internet and never cared.

What was it about this girl?

Azriel was sitting at his desk. He was working at Velaris Times – a web-based newspaper that his best friend Rhysand had started a few years ago. He hired Azriel to work in IT and their other friend, Cassian, as a photographer. It was a pretty small newspaper, so they all felt like family there.

Azriel was feeling naturally energized for the first time in his life. He didn’t even need to down his usual three cups of coffee this morning. Cassian was sitting next to him, editing some photos for an article that their co-worker Mor had written.

“You wanna grab some lunch later?” Cassian asked.

Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave his computer, but he nodded in agreement. “Sure. Should we invite Rhys?”

Cassian snorted. “Nah, he’s on that weird health-cleanse, remember? Feyre probably packed him a kale juice and some broccoli.”

Azriel chuckled. Feyre was Rhys’s wife and since they decided to get pregnant, she had been all about healthy eating, to Rhysand’s dismay. He wasn’t even allowed coffee - it was all about the green tea! Some days, Cassian and Azriel ate their lunches at the office which always lead to Rhys staring longingly at their food. It felt like having a dog begging for scraps underneath the dinner table.

“So that’s still going on, huh? I thought he would have given up by now. There’s only that much kale you can eat,” Azriel said.

“Yeah, but he’s whipped. Remember when they first started dating and she served him soup from a can and he ate it like it was a gourmet meal.”

“Fair enough.”

“You know that I can hear you, assholes?” Rhys called from his office. They had been very aware of this fact. Rhys strode out of his office, wearing his usual uniform of a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. Azriel was happy that he worked in IT so he could get away with just wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt - and maybe a hoodie on cold days.

“Are you telling me that Nesta doesn’t have you wrapped around her little finger?” Rhys smirked and leaned against the doorframe.

Cassians ears turned red. “She could never get me to drink kale-smoothies every day.”

Rhys shook his head. “You were pining for her for two years before she even agreed to go on a date with you. She could probably tie you to your bed and get you to call her mistress if she wanted to.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair and gave Rhys a purely male grin. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Azriel groaned. “Too much information, Cass.”

Cassian shrugged. “Don’t be so sensitive, Az.”

Azriel glared at him. “I’m not sensitive just because I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

“That’s because you don’t have a sex life,” Cassian muttered under his breath, which elicited a burst of laughter that sounded more like a snort from Rhys.

Azriel shook his head and tried to concentrate on his work, which was almost impossible when his two friends were still staring at him. He could almost feel them scheming.

“Hey, Az. How’s the dating going?” Rhys asked.

Azriel didn’t answer, mostly because the answer would be that it  didn’t. He didn’t date. He was tired of going on dates with people he didn’t know. He wasn’t very talkative, so dates were basically his nightmare. And it was even worse when he agreed to download Tinder on a drunken night a few months ago. Dating like that just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to meet someone on the internet like that.

“You want me to set you up on a blind date?” Cassian asked, and Azriel pretended not to hear him.

“Nesta has some great friends,” he continued. “What about Gwyn?”

Rhys nodded. “Yeah, Gwyn is a nice girl.”

Azriel stared at his friends. “I’ve met Gwyn.”

“So?”

“If I’ve already met her, it’s not a blind date.”

Cassian thought about it for a second and shrugged. “Eh, semantics. Should I tell Nesta to give her a call?”

“No. She’s not my type.”

Truthfully, Gwyn was a very sweet girl. She was cute and funny and determined, but she just wasn’t for Azriel. They had met a few times but there had been no attraction - no sparks. Azriel wanted to feel something from the start. He didn’t want to be in a relationship just to avoid being lonely.

“So, what is your type exactly?” Rhys asked.

An image popped into Azriel’s head. Usually, he couldn’t imagine what his type would be, but now, he saw someone in his mind. She had golden hair and cute little freckles on her nose. She was gentle, kind and calm.

It was Flower Girl ASMR.

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to get the picture of her out of his head. What was wrong with him? He didn’t want to date someone he had only seen in a few videos. That made him as creepy as those assholes in her comment section. He didn’t even know her. He didn’t even know her name.

“I don’t know,” Azriel muttered. “Could you please let me get back to my work?”

And after a few more suggestions of people they could set him up with (he kindly, but firmly, declined), they finally let him work.

That night, Flower Girl ASMR was hosting a livestream on YouTube. Azriel wondered if they might live in the same time zone since the live stream seemed to coincide with a reasonable bedtime for him.

Azriel joined the livestream just a few minutes after it had started.  A few hundred people were already logged in. Flower Girl ASMR was sitting in front of a background that looked like the night sky; dark blue and full of fairy lights. Her hair hung in waves around her face and she was wearing a pink top that matched her complexion. Not that Azriel noticed such things, why would he?

She was brushing her camera with a make-up brush, making it look as if she was brushing his face. “I am so happy that you all could join me here tonight,” she whispered into her microphone. “As promised, I was going to host my first livestream when we reached one hundred thousand subscribers, which we did last week.” She smiled at the camera, one of those smiles that reached her eyes. Azriel could feel himself smile back. Which was stupid. She couldn’t see him. “Tonight, you can make requests or ask questions in the comments, and I will answer a few of your questions,” she continued. She was still moving the brush over the screen. The combination of her whispering voice and the visual trigger of the brush made Azriel tingle all over.

Most comments were very nice; telling her that she helped them sleep, or wanting her to say hello to them. People asked her about her favorite color and if she had any pets (lilac and no). One person asked her to do something called hand sounds, and Azriel had never in his life appreciated hands rubbing together as much as he did at that very moment. Maybe it was something with the setting on her microphone, but the sound was like a wave of pleasure in his brain.

He could feel himself relax. But then, of course, the nasty comments started.

HybernCoolKid Show a little skin babyyyy. Those tits look perky af

MortalGraysen Trying to look so innocent when you’re a fucking slut

Amarantha_utm I would honestly rather watch paint dry

Azriel could feel his blood boil. He recognized the names from the video he had watched last night. Why didn’t she just block them? On the screen, he could tell that Flower Girl had seen the messages; her face fell for just a second. And one second was all it took for Azriel to suddenly feel very protective. He was just about to go tell them to go fuck themselves when he saw that he wasn’t the only one with that idea. The comment section was flooded with love for her and in just a matter of moments, the mean comments were drowned in a sea of heart emojis. Flower Girl smiled at the screen, silently thanking all of her followers for the love. But she didn’t address the hate. She just kept going as if nothing had happened. There were a few more nasty comments during the livestream, but the same thing happened every time; her followers love-bombed her. Azriel was happy to see that most people seemed decent enough, but god, she really needed to learn how to block people.

Before he could think about it, he clicked the link in her description that led to her Instagram. Her username was the same on that app, and it was mainly used to tell her followers when a new video was uploaded. Azriel quickly looked at his own feed, making sure that there was nothing embarrassing. There wasn’t. He didn’t post very often, and when he did he usually posted pictures of food.

He clicked the button for her DMs, and before he could talk himself out of it, he wrote her a message.

Shadowsinger Hey! I just watched your livestream (it was great!) but I couldn’t help but notice some really rude comments. I hope you don’t find this weird, but have you tried blocking them? If you don’t know how, I could send you a link that will describe how to do it. God, this is weird, isn’t it? If this message makes you uncomfortable, just delete it. I’m sorry. But if you need help with blocking those douchebags, please tell me.

He sent it without even reading it and as soon as it was out in cyberspace, he groaned. What the fuck was he doing? She wasn’t his friend. She wasn’t his anything. Yet, there was something that drew him to her. Maybe it was the fact that she helped him sleep? Yes, that had to be it. It was either that or witchcraft, and Azriel didn’t believe in the occult.

Azriel was just about to put his phone in another room and go die from embarrassment when he saw that she had answered his DM. He was afraid to open it. What if she told him to fuck off? He would never be able to watch her videos again, and then he would never again feel rested.

FlowerGirlAsmr Hello! I recognized your username from one of my videos! I’m happy that you enjoyed the livestream :) I have blocked them multiple times, but they keep coming back. But thank you for offering to help me. That is very sweet!  Ps: The lasagna on your feed looks delicious.

Azriel stared at the message dumbfounded. She had answered him. And she didn’t tell him to fuck off. She had remembered his username. And she thought that his food looked delicious. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so nervous. Should he tell her that after watching her video he had the best night’s sleep of his life?

Probably not. That might sound creepy.

Shadowsinger Yeah, I commented last night. Have you tried blocking words from appearing in your comments? If you did that, you might not have to endure such nasty comments.  (Yes, the lasagna was very delicious)

He was staring at his message. Did he sound stupid?

Yeah, he definitely sounded stupid.  The lasagna was very delicious ? Why did he add that?

Stupid, stupid, stupid

But despite his stupidity, she answered.

FlowerGirlASMR You can do that?? I had no idea! I am not very good at computers. Honestly, I have to google every single thing about YouTube because I understand nothing, haha. How do I block words?

Shadowsinger I’ll send you a link that describes the process!

He sent her the link and waited for a few minutes, feeling happy to help her.

FlowerGirlASMR I hope you don’t think I’m stupid, but I understood absolutely nothing :( Is there a link for dummies?

Azriel laughed at the last part of her message.

Shadowsinger Unfortunately not. But if you want, I could help you.

She didn’t answer him for a while after that. Azriel was staring at his phone, trying to will a message to appear. Did he cross a line?

FlowerGirlASMR I won’t give you the details to my account. We don’t know each other.

Oh god. She thought that he was trying to scam her or something. Fuck.

Shadowsinger I don’t need to log into your account.

He sent the message quickly.

Shadowsinger I could guide you if you like? I work in IT so I’m used to just guiding people through these things.

FlowerGirlASMR How could we do that? I’m not very good at understanding instructions when they are written…

Azriel had an idea and it was both brilliant and idiotic. He typed quickly before the logical part of his brain told him to stop helping this girl he didn’t know.

Shadowsinger I could give you my number and guide you through the phone? I could share my screen with you so you could follow along like that if you are more of a visual learner. You could call me with a hidden number.

He added the last sentence to make her feel safer. And because he didn’t trust himself to have access to her number.

Again, he had to wait for a small eternity before her message popped up.

FlowerGirlASMR That would be great! Could I call you tomorrow at 10.00?

He didn’t even check his schedule before typing “Yes.”

She answered with a smiley.

Azriel sent her his number and she said that she would call, and that was that.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Azriel muttered to himself and got back to bed.

He opened the youtube app, and one of her videos was the first one he saw. His finger hovered above the video. Would it be weird to watch her now that they had messaged each other? He decided to click another ASMR video instead. And then another. And then another.

After 2 hours, he realized that all ASMR was not equal.

So he gave in and clicked on one of her videos. Flower Girl ASMR’s face filled his screen. “Hello my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered, and Azriel thought that she was the loveliest person he had ever seen.

Five minutes later, he was fast asleep.