#and he was REFUSING bc he couldn’t climb onto my shoulder first there like he always does | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kamoniwa · 4 years

Text

⟼ a little madness

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: yokai!kuroo/demon!akaashi/human!reader/werewolf!semi

⇢ au: college!au

⇢ summary: you, your friends, and some friends of your friends all get tricked by one tendou satori into visiting an abandoned amusement park for halloween. it turns out it isn’t ghosts you need to worry about, though.

⇥ kinktober masterlist

⇢ warnings: gangbang, noncon to consensual, lots of reluctance, mind break if you squint?, technical temperature play, unprotected sex, creampie, the boys are real gentle in breaking you down

⇢ word count: 11,695

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: don’t really think noncon is my forte but practice makes perfect. is the pairing self-indulgent? fat yes. does this fic make total sense? not really sure. did i have fun writing it? hell yeah. also big thank you to @ishuzoku for helping me come up with the flyer bc my og id was garbage lmao.

Furrowing your brows, you looked at Tendo with a mix of exasperation and unadulterated dismay.

“An abandoned amusement park. On Halloween?” Kaori asked before you could, eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. “You cannot be serious, Tendo.”

If he was put off by your reactions, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was probably relishing in it, and said, “Yes, yes I am. It’ll be fun. Come on, do you really just wanna get drunk at a boring house party on Halloween?”

You snorted at that, stirring your coffee as you said, “As opposed to getting murdered at an amusement park? That’s like, straight out of a horror movie, Tendo.”

“You guys are so boring,” he whined, slumping forward across the table. Shirabu grumbled under his breath, glaring at Tendo as he nudged his drink closer to Shirabu’s textbook. “Look, it’ll be so cool! Exploring all the abandoned funhouses and imagine how freaky the haunted houses will be! Just think about it, okay?”

The looks everyone exchanged said they had and had already made up their minds, but you nodded anyway, if for no other reason than to appease him.

A moment later, your alarm went off and you bid them goodbye, walking towards the door with Shirabu for your next lecture. You were sure as shit not going to an abandoned anything this weekend.

Except somehow, against all odds, you were piled up in the back of Konoha’s car, crammed beside someone who had been introduced to you as Akaashi Keiji. He was a friend of Bokuto’s and Konoha’s and, upon hearing about your adventure, asked if he could tag along. If you had to peg him, he was more the librarian type than a ghost hunter type-- soft spoken and well mannered with pretty blue eyes that closed slightly when he smiled.

In the front seat were Konoha-- driving-- and Yachi, currently fighting with the radio and Konoha’s phone.

In the car behind you was someone named Kuroo-- also a friend of Bokuto and Akaashi-- Kaori, Goshiki, and Semi-- a friend of Shirabu, Goshiki, and Tendo. Kuroo was almost ecstatic to be going, but Semi had seemed like he would rather be doing anything else as he climbed into the passenger seat of Kuroo’s car.

The car in front contained Tendo, Bokuto, Yukie, and-- god bless him-- Shirabu. You were sure he was losing his mind as Tendo guided him towards the location of the amusement park. The details on how exactly this had come about were lost on you, but you vaguely recalled a drunken bet made two nights ago and a video that Tendo refused to share properly, but assured you was proof that the group had agreed to the terms of said bet and then lost. Spectacularly. Supposedly.

“So, how did you meet everyone?” Akaashi asked, turning to look at you. The scenery outside was turning quickly from civilization to wilderness, the trees growing thicker the further you drove until you couldn’t tell one trunk from the next.

Humming, you rested your chin in your hand, bracing your elbow on the door. This was the worst part of meeting someone new during a trip-- tedious small talk. But you had to start somewhere, so you said, “I met Kaori in one of our classes and ‘Toka-- er, Yachi--” The girl turned around at the sound of her name and waved. “-- is my roommate. They kind of introduced me to everyone else.”

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how they had become your core group of friends. From loud and boisterous Bokuto to sullen and taciturn Shirabu, you adored all of them, but you had had your own group of friends before meeting them. Most of those old friends had faded from sight as you found yourself absorbed in your new ones and, while a part of you felt bad, it was just a part of life.

“What about you?” you asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “How do you know them?”

Konoha snickered from the front seat and Akaashi cut him a glare before turning back to you. “I’ve been friends with Konoha, Bo, and Tetsuro since highschool. Kaori and Yukie were our managers,” he said.

Konoha made a turn onto a road who’s name sign had long since fallen off the rusty pole, and you wondered just how far out you had traveled. It didn’t feel like it had been long since you left, but you recognized nothing around you and there was no sign of life.

“So, everyone but ‘Toka and I were friends in highschool, huh?” You chuckled. “What are the odds?”

Akaashi laughed with you, fiddling with his fingers as he turned back to look out his window.

The car was now filled with the sound of music, overtaking the silence that fell between the four of you. Konoha was focused on driving and you knew Yachi was more than a little nervous-- you had almost expected her to back out and accept whatever payback Tendo had planned for it afterwards.

“Do any of you guys know anything about this place?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin on Yachi’s seat. Through the windshield, you could see Tendo’s shaved head and Bokuto’s spiky locks in the backseat, and worried for poor Shirabu’s sanity. “How did Tendo even know this place existed?”

“It’s an old legend,” Akaashi spoke up softly.

Both you and Yachi turned to look at him, the latter’s breath hitching because everyone knew when those words were said, the story was going to be unpleasant.

Konoha cursed as he hit a pothole, muttering Tendo’s name under his breath as he righted the car between the faded lane lines, and Akaashi smiled at that before looking back to you.

“I doubt most people have heard of it,” he began, popping his knuckles one at a time. “It’s more of a local thing, really.”

“Well then how do you know about it?” you asked curiously, quirking a brow. You knew Bokuto grew up in Tokyo, which meant Akaashi had as well, and you were well outside of the city limits.

Akaashi smiled, tipping his head to the side and for the first time there was something other than soft indifference in it. “I enjoy these types of places and legends. It’s a hobby, you might say. This particular amusement park was meant to be scary in nature and didn’t stay open for long due to unexplained deaths and disappearances.”

Yachi squeaked, and you cast her a glance before resting your hand on her shoulder. This was probably not the best story for someone as easily scared as she was, but it was too late now, and you knew there was curiosity beneath the fear.

“That sounds way too vague,” you said, lips curling up at the corners. “That’s what everyone says about places like this. It’s not scary.”

Your skepticism was met with laughter and he said, “True. The police at the time pinned the problems on faulty attractions or poor background checks, saying there must have been a serial killer hired without anyone realizing. Sounds to me like they just couldn’t figure out what was causing it.”

You rolled your eyes, nodding along. If the park was as old as Tendo said, it could really have been faulty attractions, but you weren’t buying the serial killer story. It sounded too far-fetched compared to being crushed by an unstable support beam.

Akaashi continued, voice dropping in what might have been a scary attempt at atmosphere if the sun wasn’t framing his pretty features in a golden glow behind him. “The locals all said that the place was haunted, too many deaths had built up negative energy, trapping the spirits of those killed there. Unable to escape, they grew angry and the deaths continued until authorities labeled the park unsafe and banned any more visitors. And then--”

“What the hell?” Konoha cut him off, hitting the brakes a little harder than necessary.

Akaashi’s seat belt locked and he grunted, rubbing at the new red mark on his neck as he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Dunno,” Konoha replied, putting the car in park. “Sorry about that. Shirabu is getting out of the car.”

The car behind you pulled up as you were getting out, eyes wide as you watched Tendo lay a map out on the trunk of Shirabu’s car.

“We’re lost,” you said, sighing in exasperation.

A tall figure blocked out the sun in front of you and you squinted up into the face of Kuroo. He was giving you a catlike grin, ruffling his messy rooster hair as he said, “Sure seems that way, princess. This place is in the middle of nowhere. I’ll be surprised if we even find it.” He guided you over to the car where the others were gathered, snickering at the look of surprise on your face. “What?”

“You know about this place too?” you asked, glancing at Akaashi on the other side of the car. He cast you a small, closed eyed smile. “Akaashi was telling us about it in the car.”

Kuroo chuckled, raising a brow at his friend. “Yeah, being friends with Akaashi has its share of hazards.”

“Look, I’m pretty sure we’re here,” Tendo said, interrupting your conversation. He was pointing to a small line that looked just like any other on the map, aside from the major roadways and cities. If he was right, you were a decent ways out of the city and your watch read 1:01pm. “If we just follow this road and then this one, it’ll lead us straight past the village and to the park.”

Shirabu looked skeptical, spinning the map around to look at it as well. He wasn’t exactly wrong but how could he really tell? All the smaller roads looked the same and they couldn’t even confirm the name of the road because there was no sign. It had also been ages since they last saw a house or even another car, so asking anyone was out of the question too.

“This is stupid,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. No one besides Tendo really wanted to be there-- he ignored the fact that Kuroo was just as excited as his weirdo friend to be going and that Akaashi had jumped at the opportunity as well-- and it would be so much easier to just turn around and go to Hinata’s party. “We should just go home before we get lost.”

Tendo frowned at that, sharing a look with Kuroo before saying, “We aren’t lost*. It’s not much further now. Just trust me.”

The others were all inclined to agree with Shirabu, you included, but arguing with Tendo was like arguing with a brick wall-- pointless. He had already tricked you into agreeing to this endeavor and at this point backing out would be both a waste of time and gas. Shirabu was too smart to get lost anyway but, if you were lucky, Tendo was wrong and you wouldn’t be able to find the place at all.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to find it?” Yachi asked once you were safely back in the car.

Akaashi hummed beside you, but you said, “God I hope not. I was looking forward to Hinata’s party and if we get back quick enough we might still make it.”

Konoha looked at you in the rearview, eyes crinkled as he snickered. “What, are you scared, _____? Afraid the ghosts are gonna get ya?”

Scoffing, you dug through your bag for your phone. A check an hour ago had revealed one bar, but now the words ‘No Service’ blazed across the service banner. “No, I’m not scared. There are just a thousand better things to be doing that than breaking my neck on rusty amusement park rides.”

“Sounds like cowardice to me,” he answered, laughing at you through the mirror.

Sticking your tongue out at him, you turned back to the window, sighing as the scenery passed by in a blur. Konoha and Akaashi talked a lot about volleyball, Yachi pitching in occasionally. You knew she had managed her highschool volleyball team and knew everyone else in the group to some degree, but most everything sports related went over your head.

Still, Akaashi made some effort to get to know you, asking about highschool and what classes you were taking. You told him about your major and asked what his was, finding out he was a literature major and constantly busy, explaining why you had never met him before. He, Kuroo, and Semi were the busiest out of all their friends, often skipping out on get togethers in order to study, work, or-- in Semi’s case-- practice with his band.

A little while later, while Yachi and Konoha were having a heated discussion about their favorite subjects, you caught the first glimpse of something besides trees. Turning to look out the windshield, you saw brake lights already lighting up and the car began to slow.

“Well, we found the village, at least,” Tendo said, reading the faded sign displaying the name of the town. “I didn’t expect it to be abandoned too, though.”

Everyone was gathered in the middle of the road, looking down the mainstreet of the village. Windows were busted out and boarded up, paint faded on rotten clapboards, and roofs missing tiles or riddled with holes. The street was littered with potholes and the whole town had an eerie sense of unnatural quiet. Everyone shifted on their heels, slowly making their way back towards the cars without a word and piling in.

Even Tendo looked unnerved.

The town disappeared behind you but in the distance you could see the towering track of a roller coaster above the treeline. Even from so far away you could see that the paint was faded off of it, the sun filtering through clouds and casting the whole area in shades of grey. To you, it seemed like the forest was darker, the trees packed more closely together, and your heart began to thump in your chest.

“You okay?” Akaashi’s gentle voice asked in your ear. His hand landed on your shoulder, colder than expected, and you shivered underneath his touch. “You look like you’ve already seen a ghost.”

You nodded, looking over to find him giving you a look of amused concern, one corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just nervous. That town was creepy as hell and it freaked me out a little.”

“Me too!” Yachi squeaked from the front seat, turning around to give you a pleading look. “Don’t you dare leave me, _____.”

Laughter filled the car then and you patted Yachi on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ‘Toka.”

The towering sign for the park appeared up ahead and the car fell silent all over again as brake lights lit up again. Broken glass and gravel littered the parking lot, which was smaller than expected for how big the park looked.

Everyone seemed to hesitate on getting out of the cars. Tendo was the first, followed by Kuroo, and then Akaashi. Like it was a signal, the rest of you followed, Yachi clinging onto your hand and Kuroo and Akaashi seeming to stand behind you protectively, close enough that you could feel warmth radiating off them.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Goshiki asked, eyeing the ticket booth with disdain. The paint on it, like everything else, was faded, the wood rotten and the window and door busted out. The latter creaked on its hinges, filling the still air with an unsettling noise that mixed with the faint sounds of creaking metal and leaves fluttering in the wind.

Everyone shuffled back towards the cars a little at his question, but Tendo took a step forward, resting his hand on the turnstile. “Since we’re actually here, may as well take a look around.”

Without another moment of hesitation, he hopped over it, peering around with an unusually quiet interest. It was the first time since you had met Tendo that he had nothing to say, his already pale face seemingly devoid of color, making his vibrant, sleepy eyes pop out even more.

Groaning, you, Shirabu, and Goshiki stepped forward, dragging Yachi with you as you climbed over the turnstile as well. You couldn’t just let Tendo wander off into the dangerous park alone. The others followed suit, muffled whispers and conversations floating through the air as they spread out in the area.

The forest had started taking back over through the concrete, weeds and grass sprouting up through the cracks and pushing the cobblestones up and out of place. Vines of ivy and moss hung from the powerpoles, vendor booths, and some attractions further back, swaying in the gentle breeze. The buildings were dark inside, but through the gloom you could make out mannequins and shelves devoid of merchandise.

The bell dinged on the first one Tendo pushed open-- a souvenir shop. It was empty except for dust and garbage, as were the next few you entered.

Slowly but surely the group made their way further into the park, Yachi clinging onto you the whole time. Akaashi and Kuroo were right behind the two of you, Shirabu and Semi in front, forming a kind of guard while Tendo and Bokuto led the way. Kaori clung to Goshiki, who looked like he was putting on a brave front despite his pink cheeks and the nervousness in his eyes.

For all his grumbling, Shirabu looked interested as he eyed all the buildings and machinery. It was quiet, devoid even of the sound of birdsong or humming bugs, and it unsettled you.

“Oh look, it’s the pirate ship ride!” Bokuto yelled suddenly, breaking the deathly silence.

Everyone jumped, Shirabu hissing at him to shut up while Yukie shrieked, latching onto him. Bokuto had the decency to look abashed but still steered the group towards the derelict platform, testing his weight on the creaky metal stairs on his way up.

The deck of the ship was littered with leaves and dust, the seats worn down and showing stuffing and springs after however many years left in the element. There were signs of rust on the metal and the whole thing shifted slightly to emit a creak.

“Um, Bo, I don’t think that’s safe,” Kuroo called out, grabbing your arm to stop you from following up behind him.

Tendo and Goshiki were up beside him, examining the boat itself and, before anyone knew it, the former had hopped into it.

“Tendo!” Shirabu called, a trace of panic in his voice. His fingers were wrapped around the railing, paint flakes coming away under his touch hand as he prepared to spring up the stairs, but everyone’s eyes were locked on Tendo’s precarious creep down the middle aisle. “Get out of there before you get hurt, idiot!”

“It’s fine, Shirabu,” he called, now standing at the bow. “It’s kinda cool actually. I can see more of the park from here.”

Bokuto landed with a thump a moment later, a louder creak ringing out than when lanky Tendo had landed, and everyone took a collective breath and held it.

But as before, it held, and he joined Tendo up by the bow.

“Wow, he’s right!” he called, holding his hand above his eyes like a visor and peering out over the park. It was certainly bigger than he imagined for being in the middle of nowhere. “There’s a house over that way!”

“Probably the haunted house,” Tendo said, straining to see what Bokuto was looking at. In the distance were two stilted, twisted steeples painted in different hues. One was flamboyant and bright, the other dark and dreary, even compared to the state of disrepair of the rest of the park. “I see a funhouse too, I think. Looks pretty freaky. Wanna check ‘em out?”

“Hell yeah,” Bokuto shouted, whipping around to look at the rest of you.

Shirabu looked ready to blow a gasket, and Yachi looked ready to faint, but everyone else looked intrigued. Even you couldn’t help but be a little curious about it, having free range to explore the most interesting rides in the park. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to be able to see what they were like without restraint?

The sun was just beginning to fade behind the treeline, turning the clouds a thin shade of orange, but the lure of seeing something interesting had dissolved any real fear.

The two men met Goshiki on the platform and made their way back down to the rest of the group, eyes shining bright with the promise of adventure.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad!” Tendo said as if the stunt he just pulled hadn’t taken years off all your lives. Jumping haphazardly onto a decade old, rusted out death trap attraction at an abandoned amusement park hours from the nearest hospital wasn’t going to earn him any genius awards.

On the way towards the supposed attractions, you came across the carousel. Its metal panels were tarnished, the paint worn away from them and the animals, the mirrors grimy with dirt. Vines and ivy climbed up everywhere. The platform shifted when Kuroo stepped onto it, Tendo hot on his heels followed closely by Bokuto.

“Let’s go see, ‘Toka,” you said, tugging her forward by the hand. Kaori took your other one, squeezing, while Akaashi guided you with a gentle hand on your back.

“Look at this,” someone said, and you turned to find Semi holding a faded paper. “It looks like a poster claiming someone was kidnapping people.”

“How the hell is it still here?” Konoha asked, peering at it around Semi’s arm. “It should have disintegrated a long damn time ago.”

“Dunno,” Semi said with a frown. Trying to see the paper, you were crowded against Semi by Yachi and Kaori and flinched when you realized how hot he was. “It was wedged in the frame of the mirror.”

The whole thing was faded but still legible, due presumably to being tucked into the mirror, and appeared to be a flyer issued by the park itself.

Due to the recent disappearances, park security has been tightened. Please stay aware of your surroundings and report and suspicious activity immediately.

“You were right, Akaashi,” you said, glancing up at the man standing behind you. “They really did think someone was kidnapping people.”

“A lot of the people were never found,” Semi said, folding the sheet up neatly and tucking into his pocket. “It’s not surprising they thought that.”

“Ohhhh, maybe the bodies are still here,” Tendo said, wiggling his fingers over Konoha’s shoulders. “Maybe it was actually the workers kidnapping people and they kept the bodies in a secret place.”

“Like where?” Shirabu asked, giving him an exasperated, skeptical look. It was getting late and they were wasting time just hanging around. He wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of being in the park after dark, going to possibly the scariest attraction in the place, but if they were going to do it, they needed to just get it done. “The authorities probably tore this place apart looking for them.”

Tendo shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Maybe they hid them in the haunted house. Maybe there’s a hidden room somewhere that only the workers knew how to open.”

“Could you not?” Yukie asked, slapping Tendo on the arm. “We’re going there, in case you forgot, pea brain. Way to freak us out.”

Yachi was clinging onto Kaori now, staring at Tendo with wide, frightened eyes and he almost looked repentant.

“Or, you know, could be anywhere. The haunted house would be a pretty obvious place to hide it, wouldn’t it?” he said, rubbing the back of his head. Beckoning to Yachi, she went reluctantly, letting Tendo tuck her under his arm. “Don’t worry, Yach. I’ll protect you, ‘kay?”

You and Kaori snickered at the shade of red her face turned, and Shirabu sighed.

“Can we just get going before it gets too late?” he asked, turning and leading the way down the path. The shadows were slowly lengthening, orange mixing with shades of pink and purple in the sky.

Semi fell into step beside you, Yukie on your other side. Goshiki and Konoha were having a conversation about the derelict rollercoaster to the right, and you allowed your attention to drift to it. It was eerie, the faded paint and rusted metal tracks looming like a foreboding beacon above you. Staring the way you were, your foot caught a displaced cobblestone and you went sprawling with a yelp.

Before you could smack the ground, a strong, warm hand wrapped around your upper arm and hauled you back up. It hurt, causing a sharp ache in your shoulder, but it still hurt less than the concrete probably would have. Looking up at your savior, you gave him a half smile.

“Thanks, Semi,” you said, rubbing your shoulder.

But he was frowning at you-- not that that was any different than the look he’d worn all day-- but this one was marred by soft concern. “Are you alright? You’re awfully cold.”

“O-Oh. No, I’m fine. Just got distracted by the coaster,” you said, giggling in embarrassment. “It is a bit chilly though, now that you mention it. I didn’t notice.”

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sound of a zipper being drawn down. A weight settled across your shoulders, surrounding you with an unfamiliar cologne, and your cheeks heated up at the realization that he had given you his jacket.

“That’s okay, Semi, really,” you said, shrugging the jacket off. “It isn’t that bad, and it’s my own fault. I left mine in the car.”

“No worries, _____,” he said, and for the first time you could see a small smile on his face in the dim light. “I’m not cold, so you can take it.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, pulling it back around your shoulders. It was warm and you smiled when you caught him looking at you. He was wearing a peculiar look, kind but almost possessive, and he licked his lips once before looking forward again.

You shivered, unsure if you were just seeing things. The park had rattled your nerves and Semi was just being nice. You didn’t know him well enough to make a judgement call like that and forced down the uneasiness, taking your place beside him again.

“Smooth move, klutz,” Konoha quipped, nudging your back. Goshiki and Shirabu snickered and you flipped them off over your shoulder, looping your other arm with Yukie.

The steepled spires of the haunted house came into view, beside which stood the funhouse, like Tendo said. Both looked terrifying in the dying light of the sun. Like everything else, the paint was almost gone, shingles missing from the roofs which were adorned with holes.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Semi’s arm, pressing yourself to it. He glanced at you for a moment, a soft smile flitting across his face before looking at Tendo, who was staring between the two buildings.

“I wanna go in the funhouse,” Tendo said, turning back to the rest of the group. Setting his hands on his hips, he looked around at everyone. “Should we go as a group?” Kuroo shifted, pointing his feet towards the haunted house. “I kinda wanna go in there, actually.”

“Well no one should go anywhere alone,” Shirabu said firmly, and everyone nodded in agreement. If someone got hurt, no one would know for ages and then there was the long ride back on top of it.

“So we’ll split up. Everyone pick a house,” Tendo said, clapping his hands.

Yukie’s arm around yours disappeared and she scurried over to Tendo, looking at you apologetically. Yachi took her place instead, looking for all the world like she was going to collapse from fright, and you gave her a concerned look.

“I’m going wherever you go,” she said, and you raised a brow.

Before you could answer, Kuroo’s arm slung around your shoulders, looming over Yachi’s tiny form. “It looks like everyone’s decided. Pretty even split. Let’s meet back here in--” He checked his watch. “Two hours? That should be enough time to see everything.”

You opened your mouth to object, but Tendo nodded while Shirabu set the timer on his watch. “Everyone be careful, please. We really can’t afford any injuries.”

Yachi looked up at the dark house looming before you while the other group made their way towards the funhouse.

You could hear Tendo’s voice echo back, saying, “That’s the reason we have you here, Shirabu. You’re a doctor and all.”

Shirabu said something in return, but it was lost in the distance as you were herded towards the haunted house. The doors hung open, swinging in the breeze and creaking. It seemed like the house sucked all the warmth from the air the closer you got to it, and you squeezed Semi’s arm in yours.

“Scared, princess?” Kuroo whispered in your ear, raising the hairs on the back of your neck when his warm breath met your cold skin. “You shouldn’t be. We’re here with you.”

The steps leading into it sagged beneath your weight, the wood softer than it should’ve been and it came as no surprise when one broke beneath Semi’s weight. He cursed while you and Yachi pulled back, keeping him from falling over and potentially hurting himself. It took Akaashi and Kuroo both to pull him up out of the hole and a quick check revealed his jeans had protected his leg.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, looking up into Semi’s unamused face. He was wearing a hard scowl, his grip on you iron clad now as he guided you up the steps.

“Sure,” he said, eyes softening when he looked down at you. “Just annoyed.”

Inside, the light from your phones seemed to be swallowed by the darkness. The dust was thick and the air musty and humid. Cobwebs hung from everything, casting long shadows into the darkness beyond the halo of your flashlights.

Yachi yelped, tripping over a rotted track board and would have dragged you down if you weren’t holding onto Semi so tightly. His heat was almost a comfort now, driving away the persistent chill that seemed to emanate from the ramshackle walls. You couldn’t tell where the fabricated deterioration ended and true rot began.

“This way then?” Akaashi asked, leading the way into the first door. It was the kitchen area, set up to look like a butcher shop. A thick layer of dust settled over everything, motes flurrying through the painfully white light from your phones in an eerie dance that made it even harder to see.

Old props lay on the worn countertops, splotches of what was likely-- hopefully-- fake blood a dark black on the faded wood and laminate. Someone had a hand on your back while Akaashi examined a chain hanging from the ceiling, something hanging from the end of it. It made a strange noise when he pushed it, a crackly, grinding noise like it was rusty. It wouldn’t be a surprise, with the humidity as high as it is.

“That’s a little unsettling,” Kuroo admitted, and you all jumped when a loud crash rang out somewhere further down.

“Now would be the time to leave if we were in a horror movie,” you hinted through gritted teeth, even as Kuroo stepped back out into the hall. He scanned the darkness, his phone hanging by his side, the light pointed towards the floor. “What do you expect to see anyway, genius?”

He turned back to wink before disappearing into the dark and you groaned, straining your eyes to see anything. His light was lost in the gloom and you released Yachi’s arm, taking a step forward. Semi allowed himself to be dragged along with you while Goshiki held Yachi, petting her hair as she whimpered.

Swearing, you and Semi trudged down the hallway, listening for any noises but heard nothing besides the sounds of an old building settling. Your voice caught in your throat when you opened your mouth to call for Kuroo, your ire failing in the face of the oppressive darkness in the heart of the house. Swiping a cobweb off your face, you shined your phone around, lighting up a destroyed living room area, two hallways, and a staircase.

“You don’t think he went upstairs, do you?” Semi whispered, following your line of sight.

Swallowing, you said, “God I fuckin’ hope not. This is so creepy, can’t we just leave him?”

He chuckled against his will, a quiet, rough noise as he tried to stifle it. “‘Fraid not. I don’t wanna deal with the cops.”

Heaving a sigh, you pointed the light down to the floor and found no sign of footprints in the thick dust. Flashing it behind you, you saw your own and Semi’s clearly visible and frowned. “Hey, look.”

Semi scoured the floor, waving his light all around you. “He definitely came this way.”

Nodding, you pointed the light back in front of you, down the hallway, but it was unable to break more than a few inches of darkness. “Okay, now I’m really freaked out. Where is he?”

New light joined your meager one, shuffling footsteps coming to a stop just behind you.

Akaashi’s hand landed on your shoulder, peering over your head at where you were staring.

“This way,” Semi said after a moment of silence. It was broken only by Yachi’s occasional sniffle and you wondered if you shouldn’t just return to the front door and let Semi and Akaashi handle the rescue. But gentle pressure on your arm and shoulder guided you down, sniffling at the dust before you broke out into a sneeze.

The floor creaked beneath your feet, making the already eerie feeling worse as you crept down the hall. There were faded, torn paintings lining the walls, a few false doors, and windows painted black and boarded up. You couldn’t tell if the paint peeling up the walls was due to age or intent, but it certainly didn’t help settle your unease.

“Careful,” Semi said suddenly, jerking you sideways into him. The cold hand slid off your shoulder and a light revealed a hole in the middle of the floor, where you had been about to step.

“Thanks,” you breathed, swallowing harshly. The dust was starting to sting your eyes and you repressed another sneeze, rubbing your nose.

Skirting around the hole, it opened into another room, what appeared to be a library. Overstuffed armchairs littered the room, the shelves lining the walls stacked with what were likely fake books. There was no sign of Kuroo, but Semi led you further into the room carefully.

He wasn’t careful enough, though.

Once second you were clinging to him, the next you heard a crack and then you were experiencing the most curious sensation. Your stomach swooped as the light disappeared, and you realized belatedly that you were falling. Something warm, almost scalding wrapped around you, and your fall stopped short with a grunt of impact.

You lay there stunned for several long moments, head spinning and heart beating hard enough that you could feel it in your ears. The dark was only furthering your disorientation and you only realized you were laying on something when it moved beneath you.

Sitting up, you felt something slump over your shoulders before coughing filled your ears.

“Semi?” you whispered hoarsely. Above you, you registered screaming and looked up only to be blinded by light.

Semi grunted behind you but didn’t move, breathing heavy against your back. From above, you could hear muted conversation before the shrieking stopped.

“_____, Semi, are you both okay?” Akaashi’s concerned voice reached your ringing ears, and you nodded in response.

It took you a moment to realize he probably couldn’t see you, calling up, “Yeah, I think so. Semi--”

“‘M fine,” he yelled, though he sounded winded.

“Are you sure?” you asked, wrapping a hand around the wrist dangling in front of you. A few feet away lay your phone, face down, the light muted but visible, and you sighed in relief. “You caught me, are you sure*?”

Semi chuckled, a rough noise. “Yeah, I’m sure. Trust me.”

“You guys stay there,” Akaashi commanded, then turned back to Goshiki and Yachi to say something. “I’ll find a way down to you.”

He disappeared and you scrambled forward, snatching your phone up. Moving back to the relative safety of Semi’s presence, you shined it around.

The basement, you decided upon seeing the array of monster props and torture machines, was perhaps the most terrifying part of the house. It was only heightened by your adrenaline rush, the shadows seeming to jump out to your paranoid mind.

As the adrenaline wore off, you took stock of your extremities. Semi really had cushioned you-- nothing hurt-- and you turned to face him.

In the light, he really did look fine, even his breathing had evened out, and he looked back at you with a smirk. “Told you. I’m tougher than you think.”

“I’m beginning to realize that,” you admitted, getting to your feet. You didn’t let Semi get far, linking your arm with his and clinging to him, much to his amusement.

His eyes adjusted to the dark faster than yours and he located his phone near the base of a rusty filing cabinet. The screen was cracked-- which he cursed-- but it still worked, and he turned the flashlight back on.

“This is creepy as fuck,” he muttered, thumping the model of a skeletal doctor to see the dust swirl. There was a medical table in the center of the room with a light looming over it. He assumed there was supposed to be a body laying on said table and, in the dark, it was a scary thought that it was no longer there. “I hope Akaashi hurries up. I don’t like it here.”

You couldn’t stifle the small giggle, though you covered your mouth in a poor attempt. It was the nerves, you were sure, because as he moved away you held tighter, stumbling after him. He tried one door, the handle stiff enough that you recognized it to be fake. There was a set of metal double doors on the other side of the room and those swung open with an eerie grinding noise, scraping across the concrete floor.

The hallways extended to either direction, cells lining the wall in front of you and you shuddered. “Let’s go, Semi, please,” you begged, tugging him down to the left. It was the same direction that you had come from on the floor above and hoped that it would lead you to a staircase or something*.

Semi went along reluctantly, flashing his light in all the cells you passed. Most were empty, besides the occasional bed or other prop. Some contained chains mounted in the wall and his eyes flashed to you.

The hallway opened up into what may have been a waiting room if most of the furniture hadn’t been utterly destroyed. As you scanned the area, there was a noise from up ahead and you jerked to a stop, scurrying back to Semi’s side. Peeking around him while he stared down the hall, you kept a tight grip on his arm, feeling the muscles flex and tense beneath your hand. A shadow moved in the light and you nearly screamed as Kuroo stepped into view, followed closely by Akaashi.

Neither carried a light and your heart leapt in your throat when you caught a momentary flash of light reflecting off of Kuroo’s eyes before it disappeared.

Still hiding behind Semi, the four of you regarded each other in silence for a moment, before Kuroo chuckled.

“Well, this is certainly convenient, though I didn’t expect you to get involved,” he said, leaning sideways against the wall. He looked as relaxed as usual while Akaashi lurked behind him, staring at you peeking around Semi’s arm.

He held out a hand to you but you held back, suddenly unsure of Kuroo’s words. With your heart in your throat, you looked up into Semi’s relaxed, impassive face. He made no moves, just watched the other two linger in front of your only escape route.

Then he shrugged.

“Dumb luck.”

The men burst into laughter and you squeaked, taking a step back from Semi. Before you could get anywhere, his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you forward.

“Easy, kitten. We don’t wanna hurt you,” Kuroo said, stepping further into the room. His eyes lit up once again in the light from your flashlight, mischievous brown turning solid gold. His pupils narrowed and elongated, his smile seeming to become more sharp as he stared down at you.

You breathed in sharply, taking a step back into Semi’s chest. Regardless of whether he was in on whatever they had planned, he was the safest option as opposed to whatever the hell Kuroo was.

The grip on your wrist loosened but came to your shoulders instead, keeping you in place with a warning squeeze. You had already guessed he was tough, given he had taken the full brunt of the impact earlier, but you now suspected he wasn’t human either.

Akaashi came forward last, looking as placid and calm as ever, cold fingertips stroking down your cheek.

You shivered.

None of these men were human, if you had to hazard a guess. Staring up at them, you felt your heart drop.

“W-Where are ‘Toka and Goshiki?” you asked, and were proud that your voice barely cracked. Maybe if you reminded them people would be looking for you, they would back off, allowing you to escape.

Kuroo chuckled, flipping the zipper of your-- Semi’s-- jacket up in what would have been a cute manner under different circumstances. “Keiji here sent them looking for the others in the funhouse, but they’ll never find the doorway down here. Tendo was right, there are lots of hidden doors in this place.”

“What are you? What are you going to-- to d-do to me?” you asked quickly, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as he started to tug the zipper down. You were stalling at best, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. If there was any chance of escape, you couldn’t figure it out. You had no idea where this door was and you had the impression you wouldn’t be able to outrun them anyway.

“I don’t suppose it would hurt to tell you,” he answered, taking a step closer. You tried to shrink away, huddling down into Semi’s oversized jacket, but it only seemed to entice them. “I am a yokai, I assume you know what that is? Akaashi is your run of the mill demon.”

If that offended Akaashi, he didn’t show it, simply widening his smile and blinking slowly. His once serene blue eyes turned pitch black and when he blinked again, they were normal.

“I’m just a werewolf,” Semi said, breathing against your ear. His hands slid down, catching the zipper of his jacket between his fingers and drawing the zipper down slowly.

“W-Wait, please,” you tried, grabbing and tugging at his wrist to no avail. He was far stronger, and you were like a fly in comparison. “Please, can we just go?”

Kuroo cupped your cheek, a moderate temperature compared to the other two, and his smile seemed to soften a fraction. “No, kitten. Keiji and I have been waiting for this for far too long. The wolf probably just likes how you smell.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but the deep, pointed inhale Semi took against your neck seemed to verify the statement. The jacket fell to the floor with barely a whisper and then your phone was placed face up on a table, beside the men’s, and the combined light filled the room.

It felt like you couldn’t get enough air as warm hands skimmed down your stomach, stretching the soft fabric of your t-shirt out, before settling on your hips. Lips met your neck, tentative at first, trailing up to your jaw, causing you to shiver.

The heat radiating off of Semi and Kuroo was getting to you, Semi’s soft lips flitting over pleasure spots causing your back to arch. You didn’t want to like it, but when Kuroo’s hands slipped up your shirt and over your ribs, your muscles tensed in unwanted arousal. Your nipples were already peaking inside your bra, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the first graze of teeth on your skin.

“W-Wa-ait--” you breathed and, for a moment, you thought they really would stop because they both paused.

It was over in a moment, a soft kiss pressed to your other cheek as Kuroo pushed your bra up over your tits. His hands were soft as they cupped the tender flesh, giving gentle squeezes that went straight to your core, as much as you protested. “Not gonna happen, kitten. May as well enjoy it. We’ll take good care of you.”

A new sensation joined the heat surrounding you then, Kuroo moving to the side to allow Akaashi to join in. His hands were cold compared to the other two, one on your side and one cupping your unoccupied breast. The difference was enough to make you gasp, back arching on its own into their touch, and they at least had the decency not to snicker.

“You really do smell good, princess,” Semi whispered in your ear, nipping the lobe. “I can smell everything, even how wet you’re getting for us.”

Craning your neck away from him only opened you up to another smattering of kisses and you hated that he was right. They were getting to you, their gentle touches on your body doing everything right, like they had been your lovers for years rather than men you just met today. It made it harder to think than it already was, mind still racing in a futile effort to formulate some way to escape, but even you could recognize your body giving up.

Your shirt came up and over your head, disappearing somewhere outside of your vision. There was a collective intake from the men in front of you, and Semi groaned over your shoulder.

“I knew you would be so pretty, kitten,” Kuroo cooed, palming one tit again. He relished in the way you twitched when he pinched your nipple, then he cupped both, bouncing and watching them jiggle. “Been watching you all day, we couldn’t wait to get our hands on you.”

Akaashi was the first to lean over, wrapping cool lips around one pert bud, and Kuroo stepped back to watch your teeth sink into your lip to stifle any noises.

“Feel good, princess?” Semi asked, and chuckled when you shook your head. “It will soon, then. We won’t hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good.”

The worst part was, you were beginning to enjoy it. It was so tempting to cave, to just let them have their way with you. They were gentle, surprisingly so, and it was knocking down whatever resistance you had left at an alarming rate.

Semi’s hands were almost scalding against your sides, squeezing and kneading as he suckled at your neck, feeling you whine in your throat. “There you go. Just let go.”

The clasp of your bra came loose, and you weren’t even sure who had done it, before it was slid down your arms and dumped, presumably with your shirt.

There were two sets of lips attached to each nipple, your nails digging into your palms to keep from tangling your fingers in someone’s hair but you were losing the will to fight. Your panties were embarrassingly wet, no matter how much your mind insisted you didn’t like it, and you broke your silence when cold fingers drifted down to undo the button of your jeans.

“No please,” you begged, wiggling your hips in your first real display of resistance. Hands clamped down to still them in an iron grip, and a hand clasped your jaw, forcing you to look Kuroo in the eyes.

“What wrong, kitten? You’ve been so good up til now,” he said, stroking your lower lip with his thumb. There were imprints of your teeth in the skin, and he ached to kiss you, but it would have to wait.

“I-I don’t w-want--” you stuttered, tears burning the corners of your eyes as your zipper was pulled down.

Semi interrupted you then, tilting your head just so that he could kiss the corner of your mouth, smirking. “She’s embarrassed because of how wet she is.” Dropping his voice to barely a whisper, he said, “I can smell you, princess. You want this, don’t deny it.”

Shaking your head feebly, you whined when Semi pressed his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your lips again. It was enough to distract you from your jeans sliding down your legs, until they pooled at your ankles and Akaashi had to tug your shoes off. Your jeans hit the floor shortly afterwards, the air startlingly cool against your now bare skin only to be covered with warmth as the men caged you in again.

It started with two fleeting touches to your inner thighs, which you tried to stop by squeezing them together only for them to pried apart in an instant. Semi took the opportunity to lay another languid kiss to the corner of your mouth, tongue flicking out against your lips.

For a moment, you turned into it only to jerk away, looking in the opposite direction. You knew what they were trying to do and you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing you beg for something you didn’t want. You wondered briefly where the others were and why you could hear nothing from above, until warm hands cupped your tits again.

You bit down on your lip again when Semi circled your nipples with his thumbs, massaging your breasts as he rolled them between his fingers. It was hard to keep quiet when it felt so good, especially when Kuroo and Akaashi were teasing your inner thighs, so close your aching cunt.

Your hips rocked of their own accord, your mind too preoccupied with the warm touches on your tender nipples and stifling your noises, but all three of your attackers smirked.

“Ask, pretty girl,” Akaashi said, speaking for the first time.

His voice combined with his fleeting, cold touch against the soaked lips of your cunt caused a gasp to break free, hips rolling up in a jerky manner against your will. Your ears burned when they laughed and your teeth sank into your lip again. It was driving you insane, they were so close but you refused to beg for it.

“Aw, did we upset you, kitten?” Kuroo cooed, placing a wet kiss against your hip. “We’re sorry. You’re just so cute we can’t help it. Come on, ask us. Ask us to touch this pretty little pussy and we’ll make it up to you.”

Another swipe across your clit timed with a tug on your nipples broke the seal a second time.

“S-Semi--”

“There she goes,” Semi whispered, tilting your head around to look at him. Tears were spilling down your cheeks as you looked up at him with wide, resigned eyes. His eyes dropped to your parted lips for a moment and you swallowed, blinking the tears away, but didn’t struggle.

The first kiss was tentative, tongue ghosting between your parted lips to test you for a reaction. You only whined into the kiss, leaning in and he delved into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours as he tasted you.

When he pulled away, you hiccupped, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“Please, just touch me. Fuck me, do whatever. I can’t--” you whispered, thighs aching from how tense you had been for god knew how long. It was too much to hold out, not when you were so wet and aching for it anyway. They knew what they were doing, their gentle teasing and buildup working to break down any fight you had and it had worked flawlessly.

You melted into Semi as Kuroo lifted one leg over his shoulder. Akaashi left a trail of cool kisses down your inner thigh while Kuroo kissed up the opposite one. You didn’t know whether to tremble or whine, so you did both when his nose bumped your clit, and they chuckled again.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?” Akaashi asked, and you might have mistook it for affection in another situation. “Just relax.”

As if you had a choice. Hot breathe puffed across your folds, teasing just a little more until you were practically dripping on his lips. Only then did his tongue swipe across your clit, your hips jerking harshly. His hot tongue was replaced with a cold one, the two of them taking turns lapping at your clit at such a languid pace that it was more torturous than not being touched at all.

“Fuck, please, stop teasing,” you cried, voice cracking as your back arched. You were desperate at this point, willing to beg or do whatever they wanted. You weren’t getting out of it without doing so anyway, so you might as well enjoy it. “Kuroo, Akaashi, please.”

A sharp pinch to your nipples made you squeal just before Semi devoured your mouth. You could feel the aggravation in the kiss, the way his teeth clacked against yours and his tongue pressed against yours. You made muffled noises against him, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair.

At the same time, Kuroo latched onto your clit properly, and your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as you rocked your hips against his feverish suckling. The noises he was making filled the quiet space, grunts and would-be moans that terminated against your clit as he worked to make you cum.

Your head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen and intense pleasure. Kuroo wasn’t giving you an inch and your slick hole fluttered around nothing, until something swirled around your entrance before slipping in.

You forgot about the kiss, Semi’s lips hovering against yours as you came with a cry around cold fingers. The temperature difference between Akaashi’s fingers and Kuroo’s lips was mind numbing, your eyelids flickering, trying to stay open before giving in. You didn’t bother to be quiet, letting your moans bounce off the walls. Maybe it would draw the others to you, and you could still get out of this.

Instead of withdrawing his fingers, Akaashi slipped another one in beside the first, kitten licking your still sensitive clit and listening to you whine for him to “Stop, please, too much.” He only smirked, continuing to lap until you relaxed, though the stream of noises never stopped.

There was a moment of hesitation as Kuroo stood, cocking his head in Semi’s direction. With your attention on your throbbing clit and Akaashi’s almost icy touch, you missed the way Semi beckoned to him. Their lips met briefly, allowing Semi to get a taste of you on his lips before Semi dragged him into a deeper one, tongues meeting in a heated tangle. Both men were hard, Semi grinding his clothed erection against the cheek of your ass, the chafing fabric unnoticed against your soft skin.

You squirmed against him when Akaashi crooked his fingers just right inside you, grazing over the swollen sweet spot inside you again and again until you were on the verge of another orgasm. It seemed like no matter how long his fingers stayed inside you, they never heated up. You weren’t even sure if the cold of his tongue flicking over your clit was pleasurable or not but it was such constant pressure that you hurtled towards your second orgasm. Kuroo was quick to stifle it, delving into your mouth for you to taste what remained of you on his tongue.

You came with a cry, convulsing around Akaashi’s fingers for a second time so hard you became light headed. He continued to pet that spot inside you until you were squirming to get away, tugging roughly at his hair.

Your legs shook when he let you down, only Semi’s strong grip keeping you upright. The sound of belt buckles clanging brought you down quickly, and trepidation set your heart racing again. There was no stopping it, but you found yourself trying to back up anyway.

“Ah,” Kuroo tutted, taking you from Semi’s arm and kissing the crown of your head like he was comforting you. “Don’t start that. We aren’t going to hurt you, kitten.”

No, they certainly hadn’t yet, and you had no choice but to trust his words. Something hard pressed against your ass, hotter even than the rest of Semi. You instinctively jerked away, pressing into Kuroo only to feel something slip between your thighs.

“Excited, aren’t we?” Kuroo drawled, and you could feel the condescension dripping off of him. Semi pressed to your back again, shielding you from the cold, while Kuroo asked, “How are we gonna take her? Semi, you kinda threw a wrench in things, can’t lie.”

Semi shrugged against your back, letting his cock settle between your thighs. You whined, jerking your hips instinctively away from the heat against your folds, but it only served to make him grind into you.

“I want this sweet cunt,” Semi snarled, cupping your jaw in a tight grip and tilting your head away, baring your throat to him. He licked a stripe from your shoulder to just beneath your ear before kissing the soft skin, and you shivered at the possessiveness in his tone.

“Alright, wolfboy smells a mate,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. “Akaashi?”

The last of the trio stepped forward again, skimming his fingers down your cheek before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I’m okay with whatever you want, Kuroo. Just wanna feel her around me.”

There was something dark in his eyes that belied his passive words. He was deferring to Kuroo to get things moving, you were almost sure. Like the rest of him, his cock was cool against your thigh, more like a glass dildo you kept at home than a cock attached to a man.

“That makes things easy then,” Kuroo said, clapping his hands and giving you that mischievous smile. If you didn’t know any better-- you didn’t-- you would say his teeth were a little sharper, the canines more pronounced than before. His eyes certainly hadn’t changed, maintaining that almost glowing golden color this whole time. “Semi, lay on the couch. Keiji, you can take her from behind. I want her mouth.”

He sounded like he was giving out instructions to his employees rather than fucking a very reluctant person, but the other two followed his instructions without question. It was an odd sensation, to be talked about as if you weren’t there, as if you had no say over what was happening to you.

Not that you did.

It wasn’t until you were straddling Semi that you realized something. In addition to being hotter than average, he was larger than average, peeking out from between your folds to drip precum just below his bellybutton. The way your stomach swooped made you nauseous and tears fell down your cheeks all over again.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asked, wiping them away as best he could. You wouldn’t be fooled by the concern in his tone; he wouldn’t stop anyway.

You turned your face away only to jump when a finger slipped your cunt, cool to the touch, followed by a second, only to be removed a second later. They moved instead to your slick rear entrance, circling and massaging until it gave way, eased by your previous orgasms. You fell forward, bracing yourself over Semi, who held your rocking hips still. Two fingers filled you, the stretch no more than a sting but it was uncomfortable nonetheless when you didn’t want it.

Akaashi’s other hand came down, long fingers wrapping around your throat just beneath your chin, pulling you back up to your knees. “Good girl,” he whispered in your ear before forcing your head around so he could capture your lips.

They parted naturally when his tongue glided across them, allowing him access without thought. You couldn’t place his taste; it was like he’d just eaten ice before kissing you, and you moaned into it.

Kuroo, who until then had been content to watch, groaned and stood from the dilapidated chair he had been lounging in. One hand wrapped around your wrist, moving your hand to wrap around his aching cock, desperate for some kind of relief. Your palm was soft against him, and he spit on it twice for good measure before allowing you to curl your fingers around him again. They did so automatically, squeezing tight and he hissed through gritted teeth, slit pupils narrowing further as he watched Akaashi’s tongue delve into your mouth like he wanted his cock to.

All the while, Semi was forcing you to slide along his shaft, slow, calculated moves designed to drag your clit back and forth against him. He could feel you trembling above him, your hands curled into fists against his chest, hips moving with his hands. You dripped down his cock, covering him in your slick and he almost growled at the heady scent. Unlike the other two, he could smell how bad you wanted it and it was driving him wild.

“Akaashi, hurry up,” he snapped, digging his nails into your soft hips hard enough to leave marks if he wasn’t careful.

Akaashi hummed in disapproval, pulling from your mouth to stare impassively at the werewolf. “I don’t want to hurt her, Semi.”

Yet, he withdrew his fingers and you whined at the loss.

“Finally,” Semi hissed, helping Akaashi lift you up so he could slick his cock up against your cunt before settling against your rear hole. “You go first.”

Your toes curled tight enough to cramp as Akaashi gave you a warning nudge before splitting you open. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as you stared up into the cobwebbed ceiling, waiting for him to bottom out. Thighs trembling in Semi’s hold, you fell back against Akaashi’s chest as his hips met your ass.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaving cool kisses along your shoulder and neck. Goosebumps were raising up your arms and back, and he would have felt bad if you weren’t squeezing around his cock so tight while Semi positioned himself at your dripping hole.

You couldn’t decide if you really wanted two cocks, weren’t sure if you could even take two, but Semi was stretching you so wide you were crying out broken babbles none of them could make out as he seated you flush against his hips. You twitched above him, fluttered around him, squeezed rhythmically while you tried weakly to get away.

The sensation of fullness was one you had never experienced before. Even just Semi’s cock was more than you had ever taken, let alone Akaashi’s cock in your inexperienced asshole. You blinked rapidly, unable to decide if you liked it or not before a hand wound in your hair and you were pulled down.

Kuroo’s cock bobbed in your face and your jaw dropped automatically, allowing him to smear precum around your lips. He was more salty than bitter as he slipped into your mouth, stuffing himself as far as he could before you started gagging. Pulling back, he gave you a small reprieve to gasp for air before filling your mouth again. There was no fighting his thrusts, you had to force your throat to relax or choke. A mix of drool and tears spilled down your chin as a thick vein dragged against your tongue, dripping off to the floor. In the back of your foggy mind you were disgusted.

When they felt you relax around Kuroo’s cock, his hips moving in a steady rhythm to fuck your throat, Akaashi and Semi moved.

You spasmed around Kuroo when Semi lifted you up and dropped you back down, your hips meeting with a wet slap, his cock stifling your scream. Akaashi pulled out then, a little more careful as he stuffed himself back in, but the constant push and pull of their hips soon spread fire through your body. Kuroo was heavy on your tongue, Semi and Akaashi bumping and grinding against each other through the thin wall separating your cunt and ass, Semi’s curls stimulating your throbbing, sensitive clit.

You couldn’t fathom how you were careening towards a third orgasm, but Semi’s cock was so thick he couldn’t help but drag along the swollen, gummy sweet spot inside you. Akaashi’s low, pleasured moans in your ear gave you a vague sense of pride. These gorgeous men wanted you, were moaning for you.

It was enough to make you forget this wasn’t right.

Kuroo thought you were moaning, your throat vibrating around his cock as he facefucked you with abandon. The tight sleeve of your throat only grew tighter when Akaashi’s hand slipped between your legs to pet your clit and Kuroo grunted.

“Keep that up, kitten, and you’re gonna make me cum,” he said, holding your nose down in his curls for a few seconds just to feel you spasm around him.

Semi and Akaashi felt the benefits of it, both your holes clenching around them as you gagged. Semi took the opportunity to grind deep inside you, rolling his hips up so that he pushed against your cervix.

Your thighs trembled around him, a squeal stifled around Kuroo’s cock as you came hard, jerking in Semi’s hold. He snarled, bouncing you on his cock with abandon as Akaashi slammed into you, spreading your clenching hole without care as he moaned.

Kuroo grunted, pumping into your mouth a few more times before pressing your nose into his pelvis and cumming, his lips parted in an ‘o’ and his head tipping back. You had no choice but to swallow until he pulled out and spilled the remnant all over your face, smirking as it mixed with your tears and drool to drip off your chin.

Semi’s back arched off the couch, strong hands pulling you down to sit flush with his hips as he spilled inside you. Your eyes grew wide at the intense heat filling your womb, the warmth rushing up through you at the same time Akaashi came in your ass. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as his cum offset the heat of Semi’s, and your vision swam for a moment from overstimulation.

Semi caught you as you collapsed forward, cradling you to his chest regardless of the mess, petting your hair.

Akaashi slipped out of you, sharing a small smirk with Kuroo as he sought out your clothes.

“Give me my shirt,” Semi said, catching it from the air when Akaashi threw it. He forced you to sit up, watching you sway with a twisted sense of pride, and wiped the mess from your face. Akaashi and Kuroo took you from there, helping you to dress while you leaned against them, unable to keep from snickering at the state they’d left you in.

“Can you walk, kitten?” Kuroo asked, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Or do you need someone to carry you?”

“I-I can w-walk,” you stuttered, throat raspy. You frowned and grabbed it, swallowing with a wince.

“Good girl,” Kuroo said, dropping a kiss on your lips and smirked when you leaned after him as he pulled away. “We don’t need to worry about you telling anyone, do we?”

Shaking your head, you allowed Semi to wrap an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to bathe in his warmth as Kuroo led the way up the hidden stairs a little ways down the hall they had been blocking earlier. At the top of the stairs, you could hear voices calling your names and perked up, trying to follow the echoes in the darkness.

“This way,” Kuroo said, leading the way though there wasn’t a speck of light in sight. Your own phone was tucked safely in the pocket of Semi’s jacket, which he had taken back. “Keiji, give me your phone. Appearances.”

Right, couldn’t let the humans know.

Everyone crowded around you, throwing questions all at once, until Shirabu lost his temper. He insisted on looking you and Semi over, just to determine for sure nothing was the matter.

He seemed a little concerned by how out of it you were, and asked if you hit your head.

Three sets of eyes landed on you, all carrying a different weight as they waited for you to speak.

“Just tired, Shirabu,” you murmured, hiding your face in Semi’s side. “It took ages for them to find us. Can we go home now?”

The tension eased, though you kept your face hidden, allowing him to guide you blindly down the hallway.

It was even colder outside than earlier, and Kuroo took over the spot on your other side, gently shooing Yachi towards the other. She had insisted on keeping you company, watching you with wide, worried eyes while Akaashi and Kuroo whispered together behind her.

Even now, she watched the way the three men hovered around you with curious concern. They treated you like a precious object-- or a possession that needed to be protected.

You nodded in response to something Kuroo said, trying-- if possible-- to curl even closer into Semi. Akaashi hovered in the background, pretty face as impassive as ever until he caught Yachi looking at him.

His lips curled up in a smile, his face softening ever so slightly, and she relaxed. Whatever had happened to you down there, it seemed to spark something in the three men.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad.

#🖤.kuroo #🖤.akaashi #🖤.semi #tw noncon #tw reluctance

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heytherejulietx · 3 years

Text

Gold - Bughead

@riverdalepromptathon week 10

Masterlists

Read on AO3 here!

Requests are OPEN!

Prompts;

Daydreaming.

Gold.

Notes - ten weeks in and this is my first time taking part in the promptathon… oops. i’m glad i started though because this fic was so fun to write and i love it so much. though i swear i’ve got like three fics that end the same way this does. oh well, i still like it. enjoy. :)

Warnings - N/A.

Word count - 1.7k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken @crazyninjalight @literarygetaway21 @bc-jh22

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A hand in hers. Lips pressed to her hair. A cold golden band slipping over her ring finger. The thoughts swirled around in her barely-coherent mind as Betty attempted to wake up. Her eyelids fluttered underneath the gentle sunlight that peeked through the curtains to lay across her face and she had to turn her head to the left to get the light off of her eyelids. With a quiet yawn and a stretch of her arms she blinked her eyes open with a gentle smile when she saw her snoozing boyfriend buried underneath their light copper - almost gold - bedsheets beside her.

Betty propped herself up against the headboard and sighed, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms for a moment. The memory (or was it her imagination?) of the golden ring made her look down at her hand, though no ring could be seen. She closed her eyes and let her head lean back against the headboard behind her. Had she been dreaming that Jughead had proposed to her?

Just the thought of him proposing made her smile warmly to herself. Betty and Jughead had been together for a good few years again after their high school sweethearts phase had ended for seven years. They had their own house, they had a cat, they both had stable jobs and things to do; far from old worries of serial killers and cults and aliens. They were finally living normal lives. Or, as normal as it could get for them.

The icing on the cake would be to get married to Jughead. It would be the perfect addition to their lives. Of course, eventually Betty also wanted children, though she knew how Jughead felt about that topic. After everything with his dad, he needed to be one-hundred percent ready before he could even think of going through with that next step in their lives, and Betty completely understood that. They had their whole lives ahead of them for that.

Jughead shifted in his sleep beside her and she opened her eyes to look at him with a soft smile. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. There was a time in their lives when the only peace either of them could get was when they were asleep in each other’s arms, and Betty was glad that they didn’t have to live like that anymore. No worry of serial killers or solving murders or devastating breakups. Just them. And their cat, of course.

Almost as if Toffee knew that Betty was thinking of her, a meow could be heard beside the bed before the fluffy creature jumped up onto the bed with Betty, meowing as she climbed into her lap.

“Good morning,” Betty mumbled with a soft smile as she scratched the back of Toffee’s neck, leaning her head down enough to allow the fluffy white cat to nudge the end of her nose with it’s own. With a fond smile towards the creature she ran her hand down her back and stopped at her tail, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Want some breakfast?”

At the mention of food Toffee meowed again and Betty smiled, waiting for Toffee to jump off of the bed so she could get up too. Shuffling into her slippers she slipped on one of Jughead’s shirts before she followed a meowing Toffee out of the bedroom, letting Jughead sleep for a little longer.

Toffee zigzagged between Betty’s legs on the way to the kitchen, meowing loudly on the way. Managing not to trip over her cat by the time she got there Betty reached up towards one of the cabinets in the kitchen and pulled out a tin of wet food, scrunching her nose up in disgust at the smell as she emptied it into Toffee’s bowl before she sat it back on the floor.

With her cat now eating happily Betty moved around the kitchen, gathering what she would need to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. Though as she moved around the room she still couldn’t help but think back to her dream. Of course they had spoken about marriage before; when they had gotten back together again they had both agreed that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, and that certainly included marriage, right?

If they got married then she would no longer be Miss. Cooper - she would be Mrs. Jones. The thought alone had her smiling widely at the frying pan in front of her as she sat it on the stove, an egg in her other hand. It would officially make her a part of his family, although she already knew how welcome she was into the Jones household. Betty was well aware that Jughead welcomed her into his household with open arms from day one when he was living at the trailer, though over time - through staying at the trailer some nights and then living in the same house as them - she grew close with his family too. Jellybean seemed like a little sister to her, even if she took some warming up to, and FP was like a father to her - more so than her own. After everything that had happened with Hal (she refused to refer to him as dad) FP treated her just as his own. And when she saw the man for the first time in seven years he greeted her like she was his daughter. A smile and open arms to hug her immediately. A kiss to her head and a mumble of “I missed you so much, Betty.” He liked her for who she was, not just for Jughead.

If they got married would FP walk her down the aisle? Would he dance with her at the reception? Would he gladly accept her as his daughter-in-law?

Getting along with Jughead’s family would be important, of course, but simply just having Jughead as her husband would be amazing in itself. They already acted like a married couple, but she knew life with him as her husband would be perfect. She could imagine small things like him referring to her as “Mrs. Jones”, calling her his wife and not just his girlfriend, always wearing matching wedding rings so they have something to connect to even when they aren’t together. Holidays together in a secluded cabin, slow dancing at parties, anniversary celebrations; she wanted it all.

She wanted to be married to him.

“You know,” a pair of arms snaked around her waist and held her into an embrace, bringing her out of her daydream. “If you want to cook the eggs, you have to crack them into the pan and not just stare at them.” His voice, though groggy with sleep, held a teasing undertone to it, and she smiled fondly to herself as she shook her head.

“I was just daydreaming. Got away from myself.” Betty mumbled, closing her eyes with a soft sigh as she felt kisses being placed to the back of her neck and wherever her shoulder was exposed.

“Was it about me?” Jughead teased again, and moved his hands to her hips to spin her to face him with a smile.

“It was actually.” Betty giggled, slipping her arms around his waist to tuck herself into him properly, shutting her eyes again as he dropped a kiss to her temple.

“Oh yeah? I’m flattered,” Jughead held her tightly against himself, his hand running across her back underneath the shirt she was wearing. “Can I ask why?”

“I had a nice dream about you.” Betty said softly, smiling to herself as she held onto him a bit tighter, tilting her head upwards slightly to leave a gentle kiss to the bottom of his jawline.

“A nice dream or a nice dream?” He teased, and chuckled as she gently nudged his side.

“A nice dream. It was very sweet. I don’t remember much about it but I know it made me really happy.” Betty said softly.

She looked up at Jughead as he hummed and leaned back slightly, and she leaned into his hand as he lifted it to rest against her cheek. It was moments like that when she knew that being married to Jughead would be perfect. They didn’t need to go on dates all the time or do fancy things to be happy with each other. Just having each other’s company was enough for them. All they needed was each other.

His hand cupped her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her and Betty smiled against his lips as her hands gently gripped onto his shoulders. They stood there for a few minutes, enjoying gentle touches and soft whispers between each other which only they would get, before they both felt fur brushing against their legs and an impatient meow following.

Betty pulled away with a pout as she looked down at Toffee who was looking directly at Jughead. “She likes you more than me.” She complained.

Jughead chuckled as he leaned down to lift Toffee into his arms, letting the cat nudge his face as she started purring. “I am very likeable.” He joked.

Betty fondly rolled her eyes and turned away from him and back towards the stove to turn it on, actually starting to fix their breakfast that time without getting distracted. “Of all people you don’t have to tell me that.” She pointed out, and heard him laugh behind her as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“Good point.”

As she focused on the eggs, she didn’t see Jughead move across the kitchen to where he had left his work bag on the table from the day before. She missed his hand reaching into one of the side pockets from which he pulled a velvet ring box. She didn’t see the sun reflecting on the golden band as he opened the box to check it was still inside. As Betty stirred the eggs Jughead slipped the ring box into his jacket which was hanging on one of the coat hooks by the door way; the jacket he’d be wearing out later that day when he took her out for lunch at their favourite restaurant. Where he would hopefully quite literally make a dream come true.

#amber’s writing #riverdalepromptathon #riverdalepromptathonweek10 #fyeahbughead #riverdale #bughead #bughead fluff #bughead one shot #bughead fanfiction #bughead fic #bettycooper #betty cooper #betty cooper x jughead jones #jughead #jugheadjones #jughead jones #jughead jones x betty cooper

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town Pt. 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

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

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

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

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

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

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

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

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

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

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

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

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bracing yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

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

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

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

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

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

“You’re a simp.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I should go back to my place!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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puppy-phum · 3 years

Text

some heihua for the soul

so the update for Binding isn’t happening today bc my brain is complete mush after trying to aggressively finish my thesis yesterday and i decided to give my brain two days off bc of that. also, i promised @ashenwren some time to beta read the ending part (which they already did but! now i need some time with it myself) so i am leaving everybody to wait until saturday.

meanwhile, i am offering yall a sneak peek/first look at my heihua fic which is very loosely tied to my pingxie. basically, this is just me playing around with hei xiazi as a character and his and xiao hua’s dynamic’s more... tender side.

i know that @jockvillagersonly and ashen have already read this which has been amazing so thank you for your love ♥ but take this again ^^ also thanks to @cross-d-a for listening to me ramble about heihua and sharing this idea with me. and thank you to @i-am-just-a-kiddo who i’m doing all of this for ♥ you are the best parent-in-law for these two and this fandom!

It’s a bad week for him.

First, it’s the girl he finds while raiding a warehouse full of smuggled weapons and possibly, most likely, drugs. She’s maybe twelve, eyes wide and hair messy, bones poking her skin where Hei Xiazi can see her elbows flashing under her short sleeves. There are bruises around her wrists and burn marks on the inside of her arms. She doesn’t speak but she doesn’t have to, all of her screaming of experiences worthy of a hundred years instead of a dozen.

She presses her face into her hands when Hei Xiazi fires his gun, and he feels something come loose inside of him at the broken, aborted noise she makes that rings louder than the shot itself.

Hei Xiazi carries her kicking and screaming out of the warehouse, leaving behind the slowly ending gun fight and the smell of gasoline. She only goes silent once Hei Xiazi puts her down, flinching bodily away from him but not going far. She hovers, fingers slowly curling around the hem of his long jacket while they wait, shoulders hunching against the cold. Hei Xiazi offers her his jacket with a smile, buys her a sandwich which she then throws up, and helps her into a hospital once they’re safe to leave.

No one else stays behind with her. All the other people they found from that warehouse scattered as soon as the fight began and only she remained, lost in the thought of having to leave the premises that had become her world. She has no family, no house, no money. Hei Xiazi watches her leave with the social workers, bones of her wrists like twigs threatening to snap even after some proper meals and eyes so big they seem to swallow the light around her. She still hasn’t said a word. Hei Xiazi doubts she ever will.

Her pale face looks like a ghost as she turns to give Hei Xiazi one last glance over her shoulder, and that’s what she becomes to him once he goes home and puts that warehouse out of his mind. It’s hard and he feels himself haunted, and whatever it was that got loose in his chest rattles like the tail of a snake.

Then, he hears about Su Wan. Hears about the mission that went south with the three youngsters. Hears about Su Wan getting hurt.

It isn’t anything new in their line of business to get hurt, to even die. When he first met the boy in the desert, he predicted he would find him six feet under after only a day. There was too much softness in Su Wan, too much trust, too much naivete. He had a big brain and clever ideas but his core was gooey, leaking out in way too telling bursts, leaving nothing hidden.

Su Wan had reminded Hei Xiazi of young Wu Xie. Even his floundering with his knife had reminded him of Wu Xie. Even his adaptability had been annoyingly similar to Wu Xie’s, and Hei Xiazi had questioned his taste in students. At least the boy had paid better. At least the boy hadn’t been wishing to die.

He had not expected, after knowing all of that, to experience such fear when he first heard that Su Wan had gotten himself stabbed and had almost bled out in a cave, with only Li Cu and Yang Hao to look after himself and a saving bed of a hospital hours away. His hands had shook, making it impossible to hold anything while trying to breathe, and he had quickly been reminded of the little girl, torn open and going a bit feral just because she didn’t know what to do.

It was a surprisingly new thing to care. As surprising as the fact that he still knew of such things.

“I thought I had taught you better, kid,” he says as he goes to the hospital, in the middle of the night of all things, having to cover Su Wan’s mouth so that he doesn’t scream and wake up the better half of the city. The boy’s eyes are wide and heartbeat rapid under his fingers where he can feel it pulsing against Su Wan’s jaw. Then the boy is scrambling at his fingers to speak from between them. He pulls his hand away.

“Hei-ye!” the boy whispers fervently, like an anchor casted in water. “I thought you were out of the country!”

“I was until yesterday when I heard that you got stabbed,” he explains, voice leaning more towards mockery than any actual care. Su Wan knows what that means. The boy knows more than anyone else has ever known about a person like Hei Xiazi. It’s a strange thing but Hei Xiazi has come to almost like it.

“I’m fine!” the boy chirps, lighting up like a lightbulb. Hei Xiazi helps him sit in his bed, snatching a chair for himself from the corner, and then evaluates the damage. Su Wan is smiling while a thick roll of bandages circle his stomach. There are at least thirty stitches there, curving along his side. Some more adorn his bicep where he tried to evade another blade. A darkening bruise is making his cheek swell, casting an extra shadow under his chin.

Hei Xiazi sighs and closes his eyes when Su Wan starts to tell the story, his voice a soft whisper made even softer with lingering sleep. The beep of the machines tell Hei Xiazi the boy is alive. The painful thrum of his own heart tells him he’s alive too.

Su Wan falls asleep holding onto Hei Xiazi’s sleeve. He cannot remember how the boy got the leather between his fingers but prying his hold away is like bending steel. It feels impossible and burns equal amounts.

Finally, he slips back into the cold night.

He doesn’t go to his apartment, the one he’s currently occupying, his few belongings strewn across the floor and nothing making the place feel like his. Even after years and years and years, some part of him still feels sick at the thought of emptiness. He’s tried his hardest to carve his bones empty and chest clean but after each year spent alone or with someone or wanting, he realizes it’s a battle he cannot win. There’s something terribly strong under his ribs. It refuses to die even before his curse of immortality and the knowledge that goes beyond his comprehension. It refuses to die even when facing the cold, cruel world.

The walls surrounding the Xie Manor are high but not high enough to keep him at bay. If they were, he would’ve never come here. He would’ve never returned, not after he once left.

Climbing up the wall of the manor to the third floor makes his lungs burn, but then he’s pushing the window open already, stepping silently onto the polished floor.

“Xiazi,” a familiar voice says, not even pretending to sound sleepy. “It’s three in the morning. Is it really a suitable time to be visiting the head of Xie family?”

Hei Xiazi smiles, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it onto the back of a chair beside him. The air in the room feels chilly with the window open but he likes to hear the noises from outside and he likes the line of silver painted onto the floor and across the luxurious double bed. He likes that he can pretend his vision is so clear just because of the moon.

“Hua’er-ye,” he says back, voice like honey because he loves to tease this man and loves how the tone makes his perfect eyebrows pinch. “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”

“I would dream you naked at least, not dripping mud all over my floors.”

“As you wish,” he says and reaches for his own belt before moving closer to the bed, toeing his shoes off on the first two steps.

Xie Yuchen is warm but firm when Hei Xiazi meets his body, crashing into his lips and then slipping hands down his silk covered spine. He hums, hiding his laugh. He’s always loved the absolute brilliance and practicality and strength of this man but under all that, Xie Yuchen is a little spoiled. A rich family head. A powerful man with more money than Hei Xiazi could possibly imagine. He’s never tried, not really caring. For all his acting, he’s never gone for Xie Yuchen for his money.

He takes care of helping Xie Yuchen out of his expensive pajamas, kissing him wet and shivering after each uncovered piece of skin. There is something beautiful about Xie Yuchen in the stark light of the moon, eyes burning bright and the line of his throat like an invitation. Hei Xiazi wishes he could tell him that, sometimes, but he’s preferred to seal his lips. His poetry would not suit the ears of Xie Yuchen.

He’s never been one for pretty words, crude and almost barbaric instead, tongue made out of barbwire and mind of a strategic plan. Between them, all those edges exist in harmony, and so he’s never felt the need for anything more, enjoying the simplicity of just being.

Ironically, as the sun is already rising, coloring the horizon with its colorless light, he still descends into words. It’s like something is pulling them out of his chest, and when there’s a force outside of his control beneath his ribs, he cannot do anything but unravel upon Xie Yuchen’s white satin sheets.

“There was this girl,” he says, looking into the still remaining dark – or as dark as anything can be for his eyes, that comfort taken from him ages ago. “I saved her from a warehouse a couple of days ago. She didn’t speak, couldn’t eat because she’d been kept hungry for so long. There were burn marks on her arms, probably from cigarettes or a lighter. They told me she was thirteen. She didn’t look like she was thirteen.”

Xie Yuchen’s hands are on his back, brushing lightly against his shoulder blades, drawing something there. His heartbeat is steady under Hei Xiazi’s cheek and his skin burns, burns, burns. He remembers how he had looked at that girl in the eyes and seen himself there.

“I remember,” he says quietly, closing his eyes, “feeling the same burn on my skin. I have no memories of when or why but I know there were cigarettes. I know her pain. I know the scars.”

“Were you a child back then?” Xie Yuchen asks, his body a strong, sturdy thing against him. A rock. A mountain. He never thought he would feel lost in this world but there is something about himself in every child he’s ever saved, in all of their wide, fearful eyes, in all of their screams, their desperate fight, their bared teeth and messy heads of hair. There’s something about him in all of their thrumming, wild panic, like a bird under their skin; in their desperation to get away, to find a place to belong, to find safety and food and trust. To heal a body that has not been their own or has felt like an enemy or a liability or a curse.

He cannot remember the time he was a child, cannot remember the time before he went blind and began to see too much, cannot remember being anything but this eternal man on the outskirts of the world. He cannot remember ever having a family or feeling the absence of it.

But then, there’s this echo in his mind. It rings back from the eyes of every child he’s ever tried to help. He thinks, maybe, he still knows how he lost.

“I only remember being burned,” he says. “I only remember the pain and being afraid. And isn’t that a stupid thing to remember when it could be so many things?” He laughs, as much as it can be a laugh when something twists inside of his chest, bringing tightly together that something that was let loose. He chokes on it, feeling his voice die down. Xie Yuchen turns beside him so that they both lie on their sides, looking at each other. The line of the moon falls over Xie Yuchen’s hips and almost lands on Hei Xiazi’s waiting hand.

“Bad things linger,” Xie Yuchen says with a certainty of a man who knows this to be true. During the years, Hei Xiazi has learned a couple of the bad things that happened to this proud man. “But you are turning them into something good.”

“And how much does it change to save a couple of children?” he huffs, tired of the heart that cannot leave him at peace.

“For them, everything.”

#dmbj #the lost tomb #heihua #hei xiazi #xiao hua #all feedback is appreciated i suppose #just wanted to share this here #expect binding on saturday!#enjoy your weekend everybody!!#also yes i will die #for hxz adopting random kids #cross your brain was so lovely #for providing me with this #my fic

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seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

You Need Hands: Part of the Prize Buck Series

Warnings: smut, talking about abusive relationships, talking about drug use, unsafe bondage practices bc i am not a sex guru i am a writer of two flawed people, codependancy, praising

Klaus is surprised, to say the least when you come into the apartment raging, fingernails chewed off and eyes red as if you'd been crying on your walk home from work. Work was your only place, save for home, where you seemed truly happy. He notices your shaking and the barely contained rage behind the clench of your jaw.

“Hey! Hey, is everything alright?” he puts a hand out to stop you from pacing, and you turn on him, eyes glassy and red.

“Do you know what she said about us?”

What the fuck? Who would have said that? You talk to his siblings. Your boss. And. Oh. Okay, you talk to Gwen, your roommate from your University days that you recently gotten in touch with again. Klaus doesn't like her. It’s hard to get on Klaus’ bad side, but she seemed… pushy. Not pushy. What's the word he’s trying to use? Controlling? Scheming? Yeah, those are the ones. Accuracy cuts deeper, you always tell him. He pets your arm, feeble in trying to calm you down but after a few ragged open-mouthed breaths, you’re ready.

“She called us Sid and Nancy,” you continue, “She said we live in a sex den above a bodega slowly killing each other, if not outright doing it. She thinks you’re gonna get me high again. She basically met up with me up to judge me and tell me everything I’m doing wrong. I didn't even get to tell her about that paella we made last week for your whole family.”

“Oh, she’s kidding right? I’d make a terrible Nancy.” That makes you pause in your tracks, confusion lighting up your features.

“No- Klaus she thinks you’re Sid.”

“I’m not Sid.” He reaffirms, pulling you in and wrapping his arms around your frame. Noticing how the candlelight catches on your hair, making you look like a biblical angel, one of those terrifying fiery things, hard to look at but you’re all his. He knows how you feel right now, better than anyone. He’s used to being the one discounted and lectured. His own siblings, as much as he loves them dearly, only just started trusting him in the span of the past two years. It felt like something divine, that despite how mean and secluded you were at first, how you trusted him so deeply so quickly. He’d known you for almost a year, and in that year dragged you to another century, gotten you involved in a cult, exposed you to his family, ghosts, challenging and difficult situations other people could have easily cracked under without disease plaguing their mind. Klaus is capable of great cruelty and recklessness, he knows it. He knows you shouldn't trust someone who has seen and done the frankly fucked up shit he has, but you do. And he trusts you fully in turn, if not more. Even when you refused to be open with him, pushed him away; the days when you would have rather stuck pins in your hand than speak to him because he was loud and you were too weak to handle it.

He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding when he feels your head dip and fall against his chest.

“Is she right?” your voice is far away, empty. Needing some empty comfort. “Are we killing each other? Do we suck?”

“Hey, c’mon, don't be upset,” he shushes you, “We’re good for each other. We have jobs! No relapses! Bet your ex could never say that.” He couldn't, your ex was part of the reason you were here, which Klaus wasn't exactly upset about because it meant he had you and no one else did, but you probably could have benefitted from years free from an active addiction that was more or less funded by the competitive nature of your work and home life.

“I’m not upset. I’m pissed.”

That solves it for Klaus. When you're pissed, you clam up. He doesn't want to emotionally lose you for the rest of the day, or worse, the whole weekend.

“We’re not killing each other,” he confirms, “Pretty sure you can't kill me anyway.”

You snort and swat at his ribs, but then your hand doesn't leave him after the hit, instead slinking from his side to his back, coming to rest on his shoulder blade. You're holding him, which means he hasn't lost you.

“Oh, wicked thing, I’ll show you how good I am for you.”

You sigh, and feeling the pricking of your nails on his back, he takes that as permission. His hand begins roaming your body, groping at your chest, squeezing at your ass as you grab onto him, holding him for stability as he keeps moving, his large hands making you moan.

“Klaus…” you trail off. What are you trying to say? What are you asking for? You don't know.

“How many days have you been clean?” He whispers against your skin.

“One hundred and ninety three.” You know it exactly.

“See? She’s wrong,” and he goes back to peppering your face with kisses as his hands work to pull your skirt out of the way. Its dirty the way he pulls your clothes out of the way to fondle at you, to rub against your cunt through your underwear, to pull that underwear aside and find you wet and waiting. His other arm wrapped around the small of your back, holding your rumpled skirt gathered in his hand.

“I’ll be real good for you,” he affirms, slipping a finger into you, and then another. You grip onto his shoulders now, enough to keep you standing when your legs want to crumble under his thrusting. He pushes in with ease, like you were made to take his fingers, your breath hitching and tiny whines falling from your lips. His forehead dips to press against yours, sweat beginning to form on his brow. Its dizzying, how deep his long fingers can be inside you, how full and whole you feel as he holds you against him, making you shake and moan as he props you up, letting you feel like a ragdoll at his mercy.

“Hey,” he nudges you with his nose, “Hey, Lover, look over there.”

He shifts his head to the left, and your head follows. You're face to face with the image of yourself in the cheap and grimy thrift shop mirror you had bought. You see how strong his lean muscles are, how they move against you, hold you close and safe.

“Look how fuckin’ good you look.” You nod, you have to agree, heavy bedroom eyes stare back at you, your lips parted almost pornographically. Is this how Klaus sees you all the time? He picks up the pace, eagerly moving his hips along with his hand, needing to feel some release and friction himself as he works you over, your voice raising an octave as he gets rougher, until your eyes close tightly; your body stiffens, shakes, and you can hear him praising you. You're doing so well, that's it, all for me, right on my hand, you're so sexy. Your voice comes out in a shudder. Trying to thank him as your muscles twitch and you look into his beautiful green eyes.

“No, no, no, shhhh,” he hushes you again, smoothing your hair down as he leads you to walk on wobbly legs over to the bed to sit, not bothering to fix your skirt. Your eyebrow quirks as he moves to remove his belt fully, not just unbuckle it to remove his pants.

But you wise up quickly, watching him grab your hands and start to wrap the belt around your wrists. You have bondage rope somewhere around here, but this is hot, and he told you to be quiet, so you don’t make a sound. He moves your hands at the wrist, checking for you to make sure the belt won't hurt you, then pushes you back onto the bed, staring at invisible patterns on the ceiling as you lift your hand for them, belted wrists landing at the other edge of the bed. You can feel him push your skirt up even more, then you feel his skin on yours, his bare thighs rubbing against the inside of yours, then the sensation of Klaus rubbing his cock against you. Fuck, you love his cock. You love him. He watches your expression, your gasps, your sighs from lips plumped by bruising, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs against you. You're a fucking goddess. He doesn't deserve you, despite trying to carnally prove that he does. Youre so fucking good, you’ve helped better each other. Fuck what anyone says. He just hopes you believe it too.

“So fuckin’ good, Lover. Oh, I’m gonna worship this cunt,” he sighs, more to himself than you.

“Don’t make me wait, Klaus,” you command, but then whine as he enters you. Everything feels like so much, so much.

“Sensitive, Fraulein?”

“I can handle it.”

“Of course you can,” he agrees, setting his pace

He hikes one of your legs up onto his hip, then hikes his leg up onto the bed, getting a better angle to fuck you, but also to lean in and kiss you, his mustache brushing your chin, lips attaching themselves to the underside of your jaw as he kisses you fully, pressing his love into your skin.

He covers your body with his own, protective, possessive, and devoted; he fucks you through another high, making you scream into his mouth as he doesn’t slow his pace, once again shushing you and singing your praises. I love you, you look so good like this, let me live the rest of my life like this between your thighs. You want to let him take, and take, and take. Such a thoughtful, loving, loyal person. He gives. You want him to give.

“Klaus,” you sound breathless, “Klaus, come inside me, please.”

You beg, wanting him completely. He lifts your other leg, before climbing completely on the bed with you, his sweaty chest dropping against yours, palming at your breast as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, needing to feel the closeness of you as he comes.

He comes quietly, with a staggered gasp and your lips kissing his hair. One of his hands finds yours bound above your head, and grasps them both in his. He kisses your neck as he stills, body relaxing as he comes down.

You stay like that for almost a half hour before the phone on the wall rings and snaps you out of your loving haze.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #prize buck series

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Note

can i get some GOOD headcanons on kageyama, kuroo, oikawa, and terushima drunkingly confessing time there best friend? similar to how tsukki did it in the number neighbors au 🥰🥰🥰

drunk confessions w/ kageyama, kuroo, oikawa, and terushima

— k. tobio

OK HEAR ME OUT

kags is the type to be hella emotional when he’s drunk, like full on sobbing or just being moody for no reason

it’s definitely not that bad at first, i would think he could handle his alcohol pretty well but once he get a couple shots in THAT’S when moody kags come in

with you being the designated sober for the group, you had to not drink ofc

out of everyone else in the group he’s one of the more difficult ones

near the end of the might where you had to take everyone home, you literally had to force a sobbing kageyama into the uber

“wHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DAMN CUTE FOR?”

homie would be choking in between sobs as you literally apologize to the driver

ngl it’s kinda hilarious

drunk kags = simp kags

“y/n ur so pwetty 🥺👉🏻👈🏻”

like DEADASS HES AN ENTIRELY NEW PERSON

but if he isn’t showering you with compliments, he would be crying into your shoulder about how stressed he has been bc of volleyball

“coach said my sets are getting weird 😔😔”

and then you would sit there awkwardly laughing as you tried your best comforting him

you would run your hands through his hair and he’s literally about to self combust from the contact

by the time your uber arrives to his apartment, trying to pull him out of the car is harder than pushing him into it

his six foot one ass really be making it harder than it should be

once you do finally get him out of the car, he’s completely slumped over you and you try your best to lead him back to his place

his muscular arms strategically placed around and over your shoulders as his feet basically drag on the ground

“y/n~ where are we going?”

“back to your apartment, tobio.”

this is the part where he groans and immediately starts resisting

the thing is it doesnt last long considering he’s completely fucking drained, if anything the moment you past by the threshold into his apartment he was already halfway unconscious

your muscles strained guiding him to his bedroom to which your literally just plop him onto his bed

you sigh to yourself as you felt immediate relief on your body

after a beat or two passed to regain some strength and energy, you tug on kag’s body again to make him properly lay on the bed rather than being at the cusp of falling off

“you’re so fucking heavy, tobio.” you pull his bedsheets over him, “also don’t get out of bed or else i’ll kick you.”

honestly he looked so cute as he was in the process of passing out

“y/n?” he called out before you could leave his side

“hm?”

it was then his right hand would find yours and pull it close to him, mumbling: “you treat me so well, y/n... no wonder why i’ve been in love with you since high school.”

perhaps you ended up not leaving his side that night

— k. tetsurou

homie won’t leave you alone while you guys are out drinking

HES VERY PROTECTIVE

he literally refuses to leave your side as both of you were drinking

i would say kuroo has a pretty strong alcohol tolerance but ngl yours is stronger fr

this obviously led to kuroo getting completely shitfaced at a much quicker pace than you and when he’s drunk, it’s obvious

like REALLY obvious

he’s most definitely a giggly drunk

he probably laughs at every little thing with that obnoxious hyena laugh you love to hear so much

if there was ever a moment you two did split up, you would immediately know where he was the moment his loud ass laughs literally thundered throughout the entire bar

“excuse me, have you seen my friend? he’s tall, has black hair that look’s like a chicken’s—”

*CUE LOUDASS HYENA LAUGH FROM ACROSS THE BAR*

“oop- nevermind”

you were literally on your way to fetch him as it was getting super late and the both of you needed to go home when you saw him stumbling farther away from you

“kuroo! where the hell are you going?” you would shout over the loud conversating crowds and music

he ultimately didn’t hear you as he continued walking towards the bar

you grumbled as your eyes stay locked on his large figure to which he starts climbing a bar stool

“oh my fucking god—kuroo!!”

this dude literally CLIMBS ONTO THE BAR

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!” he yells over the large crowd, everyone’s attention is on him and you were immediately struck with second-hand embarrassment

“MAY I HAVE YOU ATTENTION PLEASE! I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT I AM LITERALY HEAD OVER HEELS FOR MY FRIEND Y/N!!”

when i tell you were wanted to drop dead then and there

your eyes widened in shock, your mouth parted, and you stood there completely paralyzed as kuroo points you out in the crowd

everyone surounding you turn towards your figure and your cheeks immediately flushed a bright red and your heart suddenly beating a thousand beats per minute

“IVE LIKED YOU FOR AGES.” kuroo continues, “AND I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU FELT THE SAME”

silence filled the club like a wet blanket as you nervously chuckle

this was so awkward like it’s not even funny

“well?” a random guy from across the bar shouted

you purse your lips, “if i say yes, would you get off the bar and take me out on a real date?”

the biggest smile melted upon kuroo’s lips as he laughs

he jumps off the bar and practically cuts through the crowd just to pull you into the tightest hug you’ve ever received

“god, you’re so drunk.”

“it was my only way of getting myself to finally say it.”

— o. tooru

if you think this boy has attitude when he’s sober just wait until he’s drunk

like literally he’s so mfing sassy and for what reason ??

i dont even think this boy drinks that much let alone has a high tolerance of alcohol

oikawa’s a lightweight (i said what i said 😤)

literally if he downs anything more than three shots, he’s a literal goner

not to mention HES ABSOLUTELY WILD

drunk oikawa — the wild, sassy one

i’d say he’s pretty loud, but def not as loud or confident enough like kuroo to stand on a mfing bar and confess his love

nah, if anything, oikawa’s more rowdy when it’s a party at someone else’s house

he knows to keep himself in check if he’s drinking in public (like he knows from experience and almost got arrested one time for public indecency but it izz what it izz)

so he practically learned to control himself, but if it’s a house party ??

GIRL, YOU GOT A WHOLE STORM COMIN

knowing that it’s at a friend’s house, especially if it’s your house, he’s letting himself get completely loose

he knows you’ll take care of him anyway

throughout the night he’s literally messing around with friends, maybe a game of beer pong would usually get him drunk

put once the party’s over, he would usually be the last one to leave as he was left on your couch passed out

you didn’t even notice he was there until he started snoring

you couldn’t help but laugh at his adorable unconscious state, it was almost as if you wanted to leave him be, but you knew he had to get back home

so you stroll towards his slumped figure on the couch and kneeled on the ground

his cheek was pressed up again one of the cushions and he was dribbling a bit of saliva but you ultimately chose to ignore it

“oikawa,” you muttered as you rubbed his shoulder and shook it

he wouldn’t really respond for the first few times, but after repeating his name after a while, he would start to stir

he would groan and could barely open his eyes

half-lidded, a smile forms on his lips at the mere sight of you

“hey there gorgeous.” he slurrs through his teeth as he continued to stir

“c’mon, get up you gotta get up and go home. i called an uber for you.”

you tried helping him get up, but he just plops down again

“why can’t i stay wit you?”

“cause you don’t live here.”

“i would if we were together.”

your brows furrow in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i always wanted to live with someone i really liked... and that’s you.” his words were almost incoherent how slurred they were through his drunkened state

“you like me?” you asked just to reassure what he mumbled was truly what you heard

he nods as you brush his tangled jungle of hair out of his face

there was a deep onset of crimson blush that appeared on your cheeks as he did so, your heart beat quickening it’s speed as you sighed in contrnt

“you act like i didn’t know this whole time. you’re quite obvious about your feelings, oikawa.”

— t. yuuji

you and terushima were club regulars

each weekend you were out with him club and bar hopping just for the fun of it

but lately, the more often you do things the more desensitized and bored you get of the same activities over and over again

you and terushima sat in both of your car ready to drive to downtown where all the clubs were when you both lazily sighed

“i’m not really in the mood for loud music and socializing.” you would confess, ready to perhaps hear terushima’s jests of you being a party pooper

but instead he sighs and agrees to your surprise as he’s typically the one dragging you to these places anyway

“same,” he mutters. “i think i’d just hangout with you tonight.”

there was a slight tone in his voice as he peaked at you that you couldnt exactly pinpoint as if you were waiting for the catch

“i still wanna drink though.” he added, there it was

“good call”

from then on you stopped by a convinient store where you and terushima buy the cheapest six pack of canned beer

in the end alcohol was alcohol and you both didnt care about the quality

this was the only case in which you had a lower tolerance than terushima as he could literally handle the strongest of liquors and still act sober

it’s kinda scary as sometimes you can never tell whether or not he’s actually drunk

but as he is a sober drunk, the only way you can tell that he’s absolutely blasted is that he becomes brutally honest with you

that brutal honesty sometimes comes with a childish offhanded joke that you would roll your eyes to

not to mention he sometimes becomes a bit of a perv too

“your ass looks better in the dress you wore last weekend” was one example

and because you both wanted some quiet for once on a late saturday night, you drove all the way to the park where it was quiet enough for you two to relax

terushima had held your hand to help you walk up the steep hill to the top of the park in which oversees a great view of tokyo

with it’s pretty city lights shining upon you two, you and terushima settle yourselves on a bench and crack open your beers

you and him cheers as you two silently sipped at the alcohol

by the time both of you were in your third can of beer, it was obvious terushima was completely wasted

“not gonna lie,” oh here it comes, “your driving sucks.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his honesty

a laugh that he likes so much, it sounded like heaven to his ears and he wanted to make you laugh again and again

“i mean, you’re the one whose making me drive you everywhere all the time.”

he scoffs, humming in response as his half-lidded eyes flickered towards you, admiring how the moonlight reflected upon your face as you breathed in the sky

“you’re so beautiful,” he practically whispers.

“hmm?” you turn towars him with you eyes coated in honey

god he was in deep

“i like you.”

it honestly shocked you at first as your eyes widened into saucers

it was straight and brutally honest confession

just how you like it

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #kageyama tobio #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima headcanons

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tickle-bugs · 4 years

Text

Incentive

Summary: Eleanor refuses to do the worksheet that Chidi’s assigned--not out of her usual stubbornness, but out of an overwhelming case of the butterflies. Simone provides an incentive that Eleanor can’t refuse.

I got assigned my darling @peachytickles!!!!! PEACH!!!! I hope you like this bc they’ve been in my head rent!!!! free!!!!!! Happy wooluhwoo month I love you endlessly <33 Huge thank you to @ticklishraspberries for organizing Femslash Feb!! This was an absolute blast :D

“Eleanor, you’re being ridiculous.” Chidi crossed his arms.

“Don’t care. I’m not doing it.” Eleanor slid the sheet of paper back towards Chidi.

“Eleanor-”

“Say my name again and I’ll start throwing stuff, I swear.” She glared at him but he didn’t flinch.

“Simone needs this data for her study.” He slid the worksheet towards Eleanor, leaving his hand pressed down on the paper so she couldn’t fling it off the desk. Rude.

“Perhaps we could do it together? I’m never averse to a good study sesh.” Tahani beamed, tucking her fancy pen behind her ear.

“I’ll pass.” Eleanor slipped out of the classroom, a sour taste on her tongue.

It’s not that she didn’t want to be helpful--she really did want to be more than the mean lady who sold scams to the elderly--but they were asking far too much of her.

Picture a person that you deeply care for. Answer the following with that person, and that person only, in mind.

She couldn’t even get past the first question without Simone’s stupid beautiful face overwhelming her. Her crush was easy to manage at first, but it had grown into an unavoidable monster over the last few weeks. The other day, Eleanor had heard Simone’s laugh in the other room and snapped a pencil in the middle of a lecture. She drifted off at night imagining Simone wrapping her up in her arms and worming her fingers beneath her shirt, whispering teases into Eleanor’s sensitive ears.

God, she was so forking screwed.

Her legs drew her to Simone’s door, hovering just outside the door frame. She was clearly deep in thought--she had a habit of biting her lip when she concentrated.

“Knock knock,” Eleanor accompanied the phrase with the gesture, immediately cringing at her own corniness.

“I’d say ‘who’s there’ but, well, I already know the answer. Come in.” Simone waved her in with a smile.

“I’m not doing the worksheet.” Eleanor shoved her hands in her pockets, glaring a hole through Simone’s forehead.

“Okay.” Simone resumed her typing. Huh.

“It’s dumb and way too personal.”

“...okay.” Simone raised her eyebrow.

“You can get your data from the others. I’m not doing it.” Eleanor spun on her heel and stormed towards the door. Don’t let me leave, don’t let me leave, don’t let me-

“What if I offered a reward?” Simone pushed her chair out and stood. Eleanor whirled around.

“What could you possibly-”

“I’ll give you tickles until you tap out.” Simone said, oozing nonchalance, as if she hadn't dropped an earth-shattering statement.

“Wh--why would I want that?” Eleanor cursed herself for the break in her voice.

“Okay, not going to point out the obvious in your behavior for the past forever, but it’s pretty obvious you’re a physically affectionate person. Tickling isn’t that uncommon of a desire, y’know? You crave closeness with the people you care about, but the study is getting in the way, and this worksheet is your latest enemy. I get it, Eleanor. It’s not weird.” Simone leaned on her desk, smiling warmly, and Eleanor couldn’t for the life of her get her vocal chords to function.

“You don’t have to do it. I’m just giving you an incentive. It’s up to you if you finish the sheet.” Simone held out the folded worksheet, waving it a little in encouragement. Eleanor snatched it and shoved it in her pocket, cheeks burning.

“Whatever,” Eleanor mumbled, speeding out of the room before she could do anything embarrassing, like agreeing to Simone’s terms. Though, she supposed she already had.

Ah, fork.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Come in.” Simone took a loud slurp of her smoothie--probably pineapple, judging by the color--and took a few more clacks at her keyboard before looking up. Eleanor held the crumpled worksheet out towards her, cheeks blazing pink, and Simone took it, brushing Eleanor’s fingers with her own.

“Thank you.” Simone beamed, skimming through her answers. She murmured the answers aloud in an incoherent blur, pausing between irrelevant words to make quiet noises of approval.

“Don’t mention it.”

“I believe I promised you a reward.” Simone rounded the desk, positively sparkling with playfulness.

“Yep.” Eleanor coughed, shuffling backwards a little.

“Any ideas for a safe word?” Simone put her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly.

“Do we need one?” Eleanor didn’t mean to squeak, she really didn’t, but the sight of Simone stretching and cracking her fingers was nearly too much for her to handle.

“Well, yeah! Otherwise I’d be stopping every time you said ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and I assume that’s going to happen quite a bit.”

“How about...neuron?” Eleanor’s knees hit the back of the couch--couch? How’d they cross the room so fast?--and she fell with an oomf. Simone climbed on top of her, settling her weight firmly across Eleanor’s thighs.

“Perfect.” Simone grinned down at her, fingers poised.

Oh man. Oh man.

“Where are you ticklish? I’m sure I’ll figure it out myself, but you could give me a few hints.” Simone swooped her fingers in, just barely skimming Eleanor’s t-shirt, and she squealed, hiding her face behind her hands. She’d imagined this for months, hypothesized what that word would sound like falling from Simone’s smirking lips, but nothing could ever compare to this.

“No,” Eleanor squeaked, peeking between her fingers.

“No? Then you leave me no choice.” Simone sighed, fingers latching onto Eleanor’s ribs like magnets. Eleanor burst into squeaky cackles, arching hard into the sofa.

“S-Sim--”

“Sound it out, you can do it. Si-mone.” She vibrated her fingers into the divots between Eleanor’s ribs.

“Stop!”

“I’m barely even touching you!” Simone laughed, trailing her fingers up and down her ribcage like a xylophone. Eleanor shimmied in place, elbows pressed firmly to her sides, but she couldn’t block out Simone’s accursed fingers.

“T-Tickles!” A strange gurgling noise escaped from Eleanor’s throat and her next bout of laughter turned deeper, more desperate.

“Well yeah, Captain Obvious.” Simone launched a flurry of pinches and pokes across Eleanor’s stomach, paying careful attention to the spots that made her fold and twist.

“Hmm, we’ve hit some good spots, but we’re missing something here. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me?” Simone leaned close, close enough for Eleanor to smell her perfume, and god she was going to die here, under the tickly touches of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. She deserved Good Person Points for this. Not even the strongest soldier would survive being able to see the slight gloss of Simone’s chapstick without completely falling apart.

“N-No!” She bucked until she flipped herself over. Simone tipped back, grabbing the back of Eleanor’s leg for balance, and she squealed.

“I am absolutely going to need you to do that again,” Simone whispered, eyes wide. Eleanor turned to protest, but Simone already pinned down her left leg, scribbling over the back of her knee. Eleanor was beyond grateful for the way the couch cushions muffled her screamy, hiccupy giggles. If anyone else heard her, she’d die on the spot.

“You are the worst-”

“That’s not very nice. I am giving you what you wanted, y’know.” Simone scratched one finger in the dead-center of the pit of Eleanor’s knee. She screeched, kicking wildly, and caught Simone in the shoulder a few times with her heel. She twisted hard, nearly taking both of them to the floor, but she ended up dangling off of the couch, with Simone still anchoring her lower half to the cushions.

“Rude,” Simone scoffed, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye, and Eleanor suddenly became very aware of the way her shirt had slid up to reveal bare skin.

“Wait, nonono-”

“I think you owe me an apology,” Simone singsonged, slowly wiggling her fingers just over Eleanor’s skin. Every once in a while, she’d trail her fingers lightly over Eleanor’s stomach just to watch her muscles quiver with panicky, anticipatory giggles.

“Fork off-”

“Nono, try something like…’Simone is the greatest ever’. That has a nice ring to it, yeah?” Simone smoothed her hands over Eleanor’s skin, taking firm hold of her waistline, and when it appeared she had nothing to say past a protestive scrunch of the nose, Simone squeezed.

“No!” Eleanor’s laughter overtook her as she batted at Simone’s hands, stuck in a loop of laughter-filled sit-ups while she tried to free herself from Simone’s hands.

“Again with the rudeness. I’m wounded, Eleanor.” Simone held one hand over her heart while the other pressed into a particularly devastating spot on her side. Eleanor lunged, latching onto Simone’s hands.

“Gotcha.” Eleanor grinned.

“Checkmate.” Simone twisted her wrists until Eleanor’s grip faltered, drinking in the look of panic on her face before plunging her hands under her arms.

“N-Neuron!” Eleanor wheezed, tapping Simone’s wrist. Simone hauled her back up onto the couch, rubbing a soothing hand over her leg.

“Are you okay?” Simone leaned down to catch Eleanor’s gaze, searching for any unease or discomfort in her expression.

“Yes! Yeah, that was perfect.” Eleanor ran a hand through her frizzed-out hair, laughing a little in disbelief. The gentle burn of laughter in her chest felt incredible. She let Simone help her up and lead her to the door, absolutely floating on endorphins.

“This doesn’t have to be a one time thing. My door is always open.” Simone leaned forward, little by little, until they were nose to nose. She tilted her head, eyes flicking down to Eleanor’s lips, as if asking for permission. Oh. Eleanor quickly kissed her before she could squander the opportunity.

So the smoothie was pineapple. Nice.

“Y-Yeah. No problemo.” Eleanor cleared her throat, grinning like an idiot. She pecked Simone on the nose, emboldened by dopamine, and slid out of the office. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind her that she registered what had just happened.

“No problemo? Really?” Eleanor hissed, smacking herself in the forehead, but there was a little bounce in her step as she made her way down the hall.

#my fics #femfebtkl2021 #the good place #ticklish!eleanor #elmone #Eleanor Shellstrop #simone garnett #i hope u like this bby!!!!!!

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tintinwrites · 4 years

Text

dar’manda | Din Djarin x Reader | Part Two

A/N: I want to say that this isn’t going to actually be Din x Reader romance for quite a few chapters!! Right now you are merely there to help him as a friend bc this is about a man finding himself, not y’all banging bc ~ooh his looks~ you’ve barely even looked at him lol.

Rating: T

Warning: Naughty words. Slight mentions of blood. Mando is almost catatonic. Helmetless Mando but not in the way or for the reasons you think.

Word count: 2,509, apparently!!

Summary: You go back to Cara to take the Child and upon seeing Mando, she decides to help. Both of you are pretty useless as far as she can tell.

Part One

GIF credit: kanouchi

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

You’d been the one who needed to pilot the ship off the planet, not exactly wanting people to discover the men then somehow know it was you two.

You were kind of freaking out too, but you climbed up the ladder to the cockpit anyway and brought the Razor Crest into the air, putting it on autopilot when the planet was no longer seen behind you.

Mando was sitting in the same spot when you returned to the lower level of the ship and you leaned against the wall in a spot outside of his vision — he was staring at the floor with your jacket still on his head — to watch him with secret sympathy.

Your eyes slid to the item you’d grabbed during your escape that you supposed he did not notice yet, walking over to look at it, running your thumbs over the shining metal.

It never did express emotions when on him, but somehow it seemed pretty emotionless now.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, then turned and walked to stand in front of him quietly, your hands very timidly holding the helmet out as if you were the one who carelessly took it off him.

His eyes rose to stare at it and then looked at you, but you didn’t look at him.

“You can put it back on. I won’t tell anyone...and I will go if that’s what you want me to do.”

“I can’t put it back on.”

“No one will know.”

“I will know.”

There was some anger in his voice which was nicer than his silence, but you wondered how much of it was directed at you as he tugged your jacket off his head.

You knew he was gentler than one might think for a bounty hunter, patient with his foundling, but you were sure that it was partly your fault that he was seen and that he probably hated you now.

Why wouldn’t you stumble back the moment he stood up, seeming bigger than usual?

His nostrils flared at your speed to get out of his way like he was some sort of monster; he dropped your jacket on the bed and walked past you, his cape brushing you as he moved down the corridor to the ladder. “We need to get the kid.”

You watched the back of his head as he disappeared into the cockpit, then sat down on the bed and put his helmet down as you pulled your jacket into your lap.

Your fingers ran over the stains from his gloves and the blood of those men that was on his skin; it was by far the most comfortable, best looking jacket you owned.

Mando’s helmet was a statement piece in a different sort of way, not a statement to draw eyes to him but one that said who he was and what he believed in.

And you looked at his face and now he could never wear his helmet, and you let your dirty jacket fall to the floor as you stood up, stepping on it and...sitting back down.

He wouldn’t want you in the cockpit where you might stare at him, make sure even more that he couldn’t wear his helmet by gawking at the features that hadn’t been seen by another person since he was young.

You stayed where you were on the bed, staring at your jacket for a moment and then putting the helmet in your lap, looking into the visor that now seemed empty even though you’d never been able to see into it before.

Maybe if you walked away from him, he might decide to put it back on.

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

The Razor Crest had been on the ground for quite a few minutes and Mando had yet to step a foot onto the ramp.

He was staring — or you were pretty sure he was since you wouldn’t really look at him — down the ramp at the grass below, and you imagined he was thinking that walking on another planet with his helmet off was some sort of rite that wasn’t his to perform.

“Would you like me to go get him?” You asked gently.

He said nothing and you decided to grab the baby from Cara yourself, which would honestly be a good excuse to drop him off at the ramp then run as fast as you could to allow Mando the possibility of putting his helmet back on as if nobody had seen him.

If he did put it on then find out where you ran to be sure no one would be able to tell anyone what he looked like, you would let him.

You wanted him to be able to abide by the beliefs that built him.

Cara swung the door open when your hand was lifted to knock on it, the Child on her hip and rage in her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”

You were silent for a moment with your hand still raised and she took the moment to look around, seeing you were alone.

Between the amount of time it took you to deal with the quarry, Mando not being at the door with you, and the look on your face, her own features slowly turned serious.

“Where’s Mando?” Her voice was soft and almost timid if anything about her could be considered timid.

“He, um…” Tears swam in your eyes because how were you supposed to tell her that his helmet was taken off and he was now...what was he now? Was the story yours to tell?

Her eyes left yours to stare behind you slightly wide, her lips parted, and you looked over your shoulder to see Mando walking towards you.

What you could see out of your peripheral vision that still refused to properly look at him was an entirely stoic man in armor as he walked past you to stand in front of Cara, plucking the child from her grip then turning around to walk straight back to the ship.

Cara practically gaped at him until he disappeared out of view then looked at you with confusion written all over her face.

She blinked once and said in a hesitant voice, “He’s hot.”

It was her attempt at a joke to ease the obvious tension, but even she knew it was halfhearted.

“What happened?” She asked instead, watching you closely.

“—it’s all my fault.” You didn’t mean to start sobbing right there on the doorstep and Cara definitely looked a little panicked, glancing around and quickly yanking you inside by your wrist.

It was clear that she was trying to be understanding where she wasn’t used to dealing with people’s emotions, though she was a little rough as she pushed you down into the chair nearest to the door at a little dining table.

She allowed you to sit there and cry for a moment since you probably wouldn’t be able to formulate any words around your sobs, looking around awkwardly.

When you were letting out the occasional whimper, she pulled the other chair closer and sat down in front of you, leaning her arm on the table. “Tell me what happened.”

You wrung your hands, looking down.

“That bounty who was supposed to be this hard to hunt guy worth a bunch of credits? It was all a set up. There were four men and they...I don’t know, they figured out some way to make sure the puck went to Mando. They wanted the Child.” You glanced up to see Cara’s brow was furrowed at this information.

“Oh, shit,” she murmured.

“I know, and their leader wanted to kill Mando, too, and bring him in to someone who wanted his ‘head on a stick’ or something. He tried to make me tell him where the Child was, then he tried to convince Mando by threatening to shoot me. When that didn’t work…” You were starting to become a little bit emotional again and Cara let you take a moment before you spoke again,

“He started asking if I’d ever seen him without his helmet on and he was saying all these gross things, then he...started to take the helmet off. I tried to look away and they wouldn’t let me, they held me still, and he said he’d kill Mando if I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to look, I didn’t, but I saw him and now he can never put it on again and it’s my fault.” A tear plopped onto your pant leg.

“There was blood on his face.”

“He went into this...I don’t know, this rage? And he killed them. Maybe he could put his helmet back on if he killed me too. I was thinking maybe I would stay here and then he could go— ow!”

You rubbed your upper arm where Cara had lightly punched it, looking at her bemusedly — it still hurt even if it was light.

She looked sympathetic as you told her why Mando’s helmet was gone, but now her eyes were stern with no room for argument.

“First of all, it’s not your fault. You didn’t take his helmet off and you looked at him to keep them from killing him. They might be dead, but I saw him too, remember? Do you think it’s fair for him to be abandoned by his partner when he can’t put his helmet back on anyway?”

“I guess.”

“Second of all, crying about it and running away aren’t going to fix this. His helmet was taken off and he needs your help, not for you to run from him.”

“You’re right. Of course.”

That he needed help, but you weren’t sure if she was right about it not being your fault.

You wondered if it would have been kinder of you to close your eyes and let him be killed by that man rather than look at his face.

Why didn’t he just tell you to leave that way no one would ever know he was seen without his helmet?

I will know.

“You’ll figure it out. We will. Obviously neither of you are all that capable of figuring things out right now since you’re crying and what little personality Mando had seems to have disappeared, so…” There was a little smirk playing on Cara’s lips and you smiled a little at her attempts to be light.

“Maybe it would have been smarter if you went with him and I stayed with the baby, then none of this would have happened.” She was a better partner than you and you were sure Mando knew that now, he probably didn’t want you to ever come along with him again.

“All you can do now is see what he needs and that’s not being abandoned by people he knows when the only other thing he knew was his creed.” She stood from the chair to walk around her tiny living space.

“You’re coming?” You asked as she began putting things into a small sack.

“I told you that we’d figure it out.”

“—thank you.”

You didn’t know Cara as well as you would have liked since you were usually off hunting quarries with Mando or taking care of the kid, but it was nice to have a friendly face around to help you.

He’d willingly showed his face to her, so maybe you could leave to allow him a life where he chose who saw him if nothing else and you wouldn’t be there as a reminder of his beliefs being ripped away from him.

That was something you could think about later since you would have someone there as another brain to figure out what Mando could do now or if there was any way he could possibly put his helmet back on.

Maybe she would also come to the conclusion that it was your fault and you should leave.

Part of you was hoping the Razor Crest wouldn’t be there when you walked to it, but it was right there where you left it with the ramp left open carelessly. You saw Cara eye the helmet on the bed and the bloodied jacket on the floor as you walked through to the ladder that lead to the cockpit.

Cara climbed up first and you followed, seeing the back of Mando’s head tilted down as the Child gently patted at and played with his cheeks.

He looked up at the sound of boots on the metal flooring, and you quickly looked away when he glanced over his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” He grunted at Cara.

“I’m here to help you out, but if you’re gonna be a dick…” She turned to walk away jokingly, thinking he would sass her about it.

When he said nothing and simply looked back at the ship’s dashboard, her worried look fell on you.

You looked guilty when you met her gaze like you were the reason for his mood.

“Look, Mando, I know that quarry was a setup and they took off your helmet, but there has to be some sort of rule when it’s taken off against your will, right?”

“There isn’t.”

“Do you know that for sure?”

“Of course.”

“Because you know all the rules.”

“Maybe.”

Cara looked like she wanted to jump him right there, but she took a small step back to be sure she didn’t do that and seemed to remind herself that he needed some extra patience right now.

Now was not the time to wrestle with him until he agreed with her.

“I think we should go to the covert and ask someone who knows.”

“There isn’t any way.”

She crossed her arms, glaring slightly. “You’re gonna sit here and be stubborn instead of go find out if there’s some loophole you didn’t know about.”

He was silent; unreadable, either mulling over her words or no longer wanting to talk to her because she was right.

And though you were pretty sure he probably didn’t care for your opinion anymore, you said very softly, “I think it’s a good idea to go to the covert, you never know if you might be able to put it back on unless you ask someone.”

It was still quiet aside from the Child cooing a little as it reached for Mando’s chin.

“Fine,” he said after a couple moments, leaning forward to push some buttons on the dash to put in the coordinates for Nevarro.

Cara smiled in satisfaction then gave you a reassuring look as she moved to go down the ladder, presumably wanting to put her pack away.

You smiled, too.

Maybe you would go to the covert and they would say that it didn’t count when the helmet was removed against your will, that he could put it back on and return to the creed he knew.

He might want you to go to be sure that you wouldn’t interfere with him again, but he wouldn’t have a reason to hate you.

#din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin fic

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whump-only · 3 years

Text

a friend visits

cw: referenced non-con, threat of non-con, trauma, slavery

Where Hunter is v angsty bc Lorelei cannot be trusted! But can a stranger?

---

The doorbell rang and Hunter, on a panicked whim, slid into the closet. He felt stupid for trapping himself, knowing Lorelei would punish him for acting like an animal if he was found.

Hunter listened as Lorelei laughed with someone in the kitchen. Their muffled voices shifted into the dining room, and Hunter knew he should take the chance to leave without Lorelei noticing. But all of his sleepless nights suddenly weighed down on him. The quiet darkness enveloped him and dulled his buzzing fear. Hunter sank deeper into the closet and fell asleep.

Hunter woke to Lorelei calling him. He pushed away the now heavy and stifling coats, spilled into the hallway, fumbled to replace the shoes he’d knocked over. Breathless, he finally stood at attention in the doorway to the dining room.

Only then did Hunter remember Lorelei was with someone else— a woman. A woman! It’d been so long since he’d been in the same room as one, that’d he’d grouped them into that vast category of ‘things on TV.’ Her presence made him feel so powerfully self conscious that he snapped his focus onto Lorelei instead.

“There he is.” Lorelei was leaning on the table, his face flushed red. Hunter barely had a second to register panic that Lorelei was drunk before Lorelei curled one finger. Come here.

Hunter moved to his master, but jumped in surprise as someone—the woman— grabbed Hunter’s pant leg and pulled. He shuffled to her, finding himself unable to look at her directly.

“Let’s see him,” she hummed, “Turn around for me.” Hunter did as she asked, feeling hot prickles all over his skin.

She let go. “You picked a good one, Lore. He’s cute.”

“I know,” Lorelei said warmly. Hunter grabbed the table, suddenly unsure if he was drunk too.

“He’d be tall too, if he stood up straight,” she said and Hunter jumped into good posture, embarrassed. Lorelei was smiling loosely and didn’t seem to mind that Hunter forgot.

“See?” the woman said and Lorelei hummed.

“You cooked an excellent dinner. I thought it was delicious,” the woman said and it took Hunter a moment to realize she was talking to him.

He was choked by surprise. “Ah— thank you miss.” He bowed his head. She kept staring at his reddening face.

She continued. “And this place is spotless. Is this all just for me or is it always this clean?”

Hunter glowed.

“Stop it, Bri. You’re gonna make me have to reward him,” Lorelei said. Hunter went still. Reward. No. He didn’t want that. Not from Lorelei.

“Well, I insist. For such a good helper,” the woman said and Hunter wanted to beg her to stop, it would be bad, Lorelei was drunk, please stop.

Lorelei leaned back, eyes half lidded. “What do good boys get?”

Hunter cringed, panic swelling at the thought of Lorelei pinning him into the floor, that’s a good boy—

“How about a piece of the cake?” the woman said.

“Well, we could. Would you like that, Hunter?” Lorelei said, with his testing smile.

Hunter’s throat closed at cake. This must be another one of Lorelei’s plans, Hunter realized. It had to be, it always was. Did she know about what cake did to him? She wanted this, to make Hunter feel heat and then touch him? He shook his head. No. Please no.

The woman’s smile weakened. “First pet I’ve met who’s not a fan of cake.”

Lorelei shrugged. “Ehh. Sweets make him nervous. He thinks they’re drugged.”

“Drugged?” The woman said. “What do you mean, like medicine?”

“Like aphrodisiac. Or tranquilizer. Or both,” Lorelei said.

“Lore. Really?” she said, with an edge of disgust, which sent a spike of defiance through Hunter, momentarily halting his sickened shame.

“...What? Come on. We have fun,” Lorelei said and Hunter thought he’d throw up.

The woman sighed. “Come here, cutie.”

Hunter obediently drew close, hungry for another scrap of pity, yearning for her to stand between him and Lorelei for another second. He liked the way her hair fell over her shoulders, shiny like Misha’s. Unlike Misha, her skin looked as though it’d be soft if he touched it.

She looked up at him, sleepy but serious. “Lorelei, close your ears. What would be a good reward for you?”

Hunter stood up straight, trying to puzzle through his options but his mind remained stupidly blank.

Then Lorelei said loudly, “Best gift I can give him is my absence. Right, Hunter?”

Hunter knew the mean gleam in Lorelei’s eyes without seeing it, could sense the sharpness of the trap that was just set.

She frowned, “Lorelei. I didn’t ask you,” then looked expectantly back up at Hunter. “You can tell me. What should your reward be?”

Hunter swelled with appreciation for her but then it cooled. He couldn’t know if this was a trick. She was Lorelei’s friend, wasn’t she? Hunter remembered. “A-anything you want, miss,” Hunter said.

“I knew you’d say that,” she said, “Because you’re very good. But I know you’re thinking of something. I won’t tell your master. You can whisper it in my ear.” She flashed a grin at Lorelei.

Hunter’s stomach was knotted up so tight it hurt. Two little rings hung from her ear. She could trick him. She could tell Lorelei, get Hunter in trouble.

But Hunter wanted—needed— someone to care. To take his side. He whispered into her ear. “Can— can I sleep alone in the closet? Please?”

The woman smiled big again. “That’s a good choice. I could probably arrange that.”

“Thank you miss!” Hunter said forcefully.

“What’d he say!” Lorelei demanded.

“Nothing. That’s between us,” the woman said and stood up. She walked coolly into the kitchen and Hunter resisted the urge to bound after her.

Lorelei leaned over the table and pointed a finger at Hunter. “I’m gonna find out.”

Hunter didn’t doubt this. Lorelei could wring anything out of Hunter. He half expected Lorelei to jump over the table and lock his hands around Hunter’s neck...

The woman, re-entered, holding a box. “Stop it, Lore. He just wanted the cake.”

Hunter was stunned. She placed the box on the table and pulled open the lid, and sure enough, there was a half eaten chocolate cake inside.

She gestured toward the cake. “Go ahead. As big of a piece as you want. Just like you asked.”

Was this a trick after all? Or—? Hunter grabbed a fork, pulled the flimsy box close, heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t remember if he actually requested the cake. “Thank you, miss.” He gripped the fork tightly so it wouldn’t shake and stuffed a bite into his mouth.

The piece of cake sat heavily in Hunter’s mouth, refusing to go down his tight throat. He tried to smile.

“Told you,” she said sweetly, wrapping an arm around Lorelei.

“Hah. He loves you already,” Lorelei replied, leaning into her.

“Good,” she said, and planted a kiss on Lorelei’s head. “Ready for bed, Lorey?”

Hunter felt a lurch of disgust from the way they touched each other.

Lorelei looked up at her. “You’re sleeping over?”

“If you want me to,” she replied.

Lorelei stood up to kiss her and Hunter focused awkwardly on pressing his fork into the cake.

“Of course I want you to,” Lorelei muttered.

Lorelei led her to the bedroom and Hunter stood to start clearing the dishes.

“Hey,” she called, at the threshold of the bedroom. “You should get some sleep too.” He thought he saw her wink before she closed the door behind herself.

“Yes ma’am!” he called after her. After a beat, he felt a strange, overwhelming sadness he couldn’t place.

Hunter carefully put the cake back in the fridge and their dinner dishes in the sink. He wiped down the table, dumped the leftover wine from the glasses.

He then climbed back into the closet and lay awake for a long time before finally falling asleep.

More here

#hunter and lorelei #referenced noncon #slavery #whump writing #master/pet #creepy whumper

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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years

Text

Birthday Treat (Soft! Yandere Hoseok)

203 - Are you teasing me, love? You know how I get when you tease me.

207 - It’s not fair - stop that, stop doing that! You’re mine!

209 - The way you say my name feels so fucking good... keep saying it.

Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, DO NOT READ IF BELOW 18, (subtle) Yandere behaviour, possessive themes, penetrative sex

Word Count: 1.8K

a/n: thank you to @love-and-other-possibilities for requesting 203, 207 and 209 with hoseok, hope you like it!! the ending is bad bc i can't do endings but ah well :/ and also a very happy birthday to our hope, literally the only man to ever exist, Jung Hoseok <3

Birthday Treat

Upon reentering the bedroom, you were greeted with the amusing sight of Hoseok sprawled across the bed. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, as they had been ever since you discreetly slipped out of his arms a few minutes ago. He was not awake enough to stop you, but it seemed he had thrown a little unconscious tantrum in your absence, judging by the way the sheets had tangled around his ankles.

You bit down a smile, setting the plate you were carrying on the bedside table, before bracing your hands on either side of him and leaning in. His eyelashes fluttered as your breath fanned across his face and you idly wondered what he was dreaming about. You, probably.

Your theory was proved correct when you ducked down to blow on the shell of his ear. Your name slipped out of his mouth in a whine and, before you even got to start running your tongue along his skin, his arms wrapped around you and twisted your torso until you were pinned underneath him.

“Sunshine,” He breathed, his voice low and gravelly from just having woken up. Your core clenched pleasantly at his tone, something he probably guessed at, hence the sleepy smirk fixed to his face.

“Why did you run away before I woke up? You’ve never done that before.” The words were muttered into your neck as he ran his nose along the column of it, and you tilted your head absently to give him better access, prompting a low rumble of approval from him.

“Well, today’s a special day, Hobi.” You replied evenly, as if you couldn’t feel his hands caressing along your side, moving gradually lower and lower.

“Oh, really? Why is today special?” He asked, the corners of his mouth pulling upwards as his hands tugged your waistband.

“Isn’t it obvious?” At his smirk, you continued. “It’s special because it’s a Tuesday.”

He pulled away, an expression of confusion lingering on his face for a moment before melting into a knowing smile as he sat back on his heels.

“Oh, really, sunshine? Why are Tuesday’s so special?”

“Well,” You began, lifting up your fingers to tick things off, “I got my first job on a Tuesday, I saw my first snow on a Tuesday, I met you on a Tuesday…” That caused Hoseok’s smirk to melt into a genuine smile, and his eyes shone fondly as he tugged you onto his lap.

“Wow, Tuesday’s do sound kinda special, huh? But, you know the other reason why today’s special?” He prompted, and you rolled your eyes with a giggle before giving in.

“Of course I do. It’s your birthday.”

He smiled triumphantly. “Correct, sunshine. It’s my birthday, and that means I should get a gift, right?” His head tilted suggestively, and you bit your lip, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

“Yeah, I actually had something in mind… it’s what I was preparing earlier…” Your made your tone deliberately sultry, and his eyes widened slightly as his arms tightened around you.

“That- that’s good. Great. Okay. Show me.” He commanded, licking his lips as you pulled back.

You shifted off the bed and, much to Hoseok’s confusion, you twisted round and grabbed the plate on the bedside table, presenting it to him with a flourish.

“Kimchi egg skillet!” You announced, relishing his bewildered expression. “Your favourite! I’ve been practising all week.”

You refused to acknowledge the eyebrow Hoseok raised at you expectantly as you set the plate down on his lap, still warm from where you had vacated it mere seconds ago.

“Go on, see if you like how it tastes.” You encouraged gleefully.

“You know, I think there are other things I’d like to taste…” He remarked, staring at the apex of your thighs pointedly. You tutted at him disapprovingly.

“No way, I did not waste twelve eggs trying to make that only for it to go to waste.”

Hoseok huffed out an amused breath. “Are you teasing me, love? You know how I get when you tease me.”

“No, how could you suggest such a thing?” You asked, scandalised, making Hoseok almost choke on his breakfast as he laughed.

.......

“I actually have a few birthday presents for you today.” You called out to Hoseok. Your voice was raised since he was in the sitting room, leafing through that day’s newspaper. You were still in the bedroom, fixing the finishing touches to your outfit.

“Oh really?” He asked sarcastically, “Are you going to bake cookies for me as well?”

“It isn’t cookies, but I’d like to think it’ll taste as sweet.” You purred, leaving the bedroom door ajar and leaning against the frame seductively.

As soon as you had seen the red babydoll set on the website, you knew it would drive Hoseok insane. And it seemed you were right, judging by the way his fists clenched so hard he ripped his paper. He didn’t seem to notice, letting it fall to the floor as he stood abruptly, eyes fixed on your lace-wrapped body.

“Fuck.” He ground out, and his voice… you had to remind yourself to stay focused.

“Do you like it?” You asked innocently, twirling around. You heard a sharp inhale as he saw the back — a completely sheer panel of lace, making no attempt to conceal your thong.

When you faced him again, Hoseok’s eyes were dark and intense, like he was one step away from devouring you.

“So, what were you thinking for lunch, maybe pizza?” He groaned as you strode into the kitchen, stalking after you purposely.

“Sunshine, don’t do this to me.” He whined, eyes raking up and down your body almost desperately.

“What ever do you mean, Hoseok?” You asked, darting behind the kitchen counter.

“Stop teasing, c’mon, it’s my birthday.”

“Teasing?” You repeated cluelessly, leaning over across the counter as if you wanted to hear him better. His eyes immediately were drawn to your chest, before snapping back up exasperatedly.

“It’s not fair- stop that, stop doing that!” He burst out suddenly as you bit your lip in faux-sympathy. You allowed the lip to slip out from between your teeth, to Hoseok’s relief.

You began running your tongue slowly over your lips to soothe the swollen skin, and Hoseok’s tether snapped. He crossed around the end of the counter and cornered you, bringing his hands up either side of your head to cage you against the cabinet.

“You’re mine.” He growled. Your breath caught in your throat as he started sucking on your throat fiercely, marking you. “If I tell you to stop doing something, you stop. Your body is mine. You obey me. That’s what good girls do.”

“Maybe I don’t - ah, fuck, Hoseok - maybe I don’t want to be a - mmh - a good girl.” You panted as his teeth grazed the sensitive underside of your jaw.

“Yes, I can see that.” Hoseok muttered derisively, pulling on the fabric of the lace teddy insistently, “Only bad girls wear things like these, right? You want me to treat you like a bad girl?” Your reply was lost in a wanton moan and he snorted, “You know what? It doesn’t matter what you want. Your body is mine, I can do what I want with it.”

He ripped off the lingerie, flinging it over his shoulder without a second glance, leaving you to shiver as your skin was exposed to the cool air. He pulled back as if he was simply viewing you like you were a masterpiece at a gallery, prohibited from human contact.

“Hoseok,” you whined, trying to entice him back to finish what he had started, but it seemed your roles were now reversed. Hoseok was the tease, simply watching as you writhed in desperation, not daring to move towards him because he told you to stay, and you knew that your body was his, and not your own.

You whispered his name again pleadingly and he finally relented, pressing you against the wall again and dipping his hand into your panties. His rough fingers were a relief, filling the emptiness inside you as they ruthlessly rubbed over that spot that made the coiling heat in your stomach start to unravel deliciously.

You chanted his name in a litany of prayers as he pumped two, no, three fingers into you, stretching you out impatiently.

“I’m ready, please, I’m ready, just- fuck, Hoseok - just fuck me. Please.” You begged. Hoseok swore against your lips, hands withdrawing and you sobbed in relief when you heard his belt buckle clatter as it hit the floor.

“The way you say my name feels so fucking good… keep saying it.” He told you as he pushed in slowly. Even when you were so immersed in the feeling of him stretching you out and filling you up so deeply, you knew to obey him.

“So good, Hoseok. Feels so good - ah!” He positioned his hips in a way that each thrust pressed on a bundle of nerves within you. He was relentless, pounding into you as you bounced against the wall, having no choice but to just take it.

“You’re mine.” Hoseok hissed against your throat, before continuing the pattern of purpling kisses he had left.

“Yours, only yours, always, Hoseok.” You babbled, climbing higher and higher to your peak. When his other hand came down to fiddle with your clit, you shattered around him. He didn’t pause in his thrusts, even when the oversensitivity made you scream. He just kept pounding and, soon enough, you were nearing your climax again.

“So fucking tight, baby, fuck. You were made for this, made for me. You’re mine.” He kept repeating mindlessly as he shoved himself into you over and over, uncaring of whether you enjoyed it or not, and why should he, your body was made for his enjoyment, not the other way around.

Regardless, when you tightened and spasmed around him a second time, your cry of his name echoing in his ears, he finally came, pumping his seed into you as you panted and writhed on his cock. After a moment, he slipped out of you and the two of you fell into each other in a mess of sweat and come and exhaustion.

“Did you… like your birthday present?” You panted, and Hoseok somehow mustered the energy to give you one of his brilliant smiles that had brightened up your day more times than you could count.

“Of course I did, sunshine. I can’t wait to spend every birthday like this with you. I love you.”

#yandere #yandere bts #bts hoseok #bts jhope #bts hoseok x reader #bts jhope x reader #yandere hoseok #yandere hobi #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #jung hoseok #bts jung hoseok #bts hoseok smut #bts jhope smut #bts smut #bts reader insert

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justauthoring · 4 years

Text

Warmth (NRT Bonus Chapter)

Request(s): Ok I have a bonus scene request that can wait like until it's open again(if it's closed) bc I'll prob forget about it if I send in later: can you make a bonus scene or a headcannon about how did Scott feel when YN was having those very serious thoughts? Because they can definitely feel each other's emotions, and I just wondered how Scott felt about it. I can actually even imagine him blaming himself so hard after she asks him to kill her bc he prob never realized that what he (1/2)

was feeling all those times were actually YN, BECAUSE SO MUCH WAS HAPPENING THE PACK WAS SEPARATED AND HE WAS LOOSING HIS FRIENDS THAT IT NEVER CLICKED TO HIM THAT THOSE SINKING FEELINGS WERE ACTUALLY FROM YN? OH MY GOD????? (2/2)

if there won't be a NRT chapter where the pack finds out about y/n's suicidal thoughts, can there be a bonus chapter with it?? 👉👈

Requested by: @andyl394 & @lemontenciulek Word Count: 1,479 Please don’t plagiarize my work!

He hadn’t meant to tell them. Not really at least.

Maybe he had. But Scott couldn’t get it out of his head; the way you had all but begged him to kill you. His own twin sister... and you’d been so sure, so desperate, there had been no doubt in you in that moment that you wanted to die.

And maybe that’s what scared him the most; that you’d wanted to die.

Maybe you still did. Because even if everything was technically over and things were looking better, the sinking feeling hadn’t left his chest. He thought it would. He thought that with the Dread Doctors gone and Theo no longer a threat, that he’d feel better. But he’s come to understand that the sinking feeling in the pit of his chest had never been his own.

It had been yours. He’d been so distracted and focused on everything that wasn’t you that he hadn’t even realized. And he hated himself for it. Because even if it was justified, that with everything that had been going on; namely the pack separating and him losing his friends, he’d failed to recognize that you were going through just as much on your own. If not more.

Definitely more.

Scott thought the feeling would be gone. That things were better. They weren’t. The sinking pit in him hadn’t lessened and he knew it was because maybe a part of you still doubted yourself.

Still feared who you were.

And he wasn’t going to fail you again as your brother. Wasn’t going to ignore the clear signs that he knew and felt existed. He owed you that much for how often you’d been there for him; supporting him. It was time he returned the favour and even if you’d begged him not to tell anyone, Scott truly felt that this wasn’t something you could just get through on your own.

You needed your friends.

And it didn’t matter if you and Stiles were at a dead end, something Scott didn’t even really understand himself. He didn’t want to pry on what had happened between the two of you and he knew that as much as it didn’t matter to him, it didn’t matter to Stiles either.

Scott knew Stiles still loved you just like you still loved him, even if the both of you didn’t know. Or refused to tell each other. And he knew Stiles would never not be there for you.

Telling them all, having all their eyes on him was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

But nothing was harder then seeing the look of fear in your eyes as you came to the pack meeting that day and realized everyone’s focus was on you.

You climb off of Scott’s motorcycle, oblivious at first as you hand him the extra helmet, stepping forward with a soft smile towards your friends. Lydias there, as well as Malia, and Stiles of course. Your first clue that something was different was the fact that Liam wasn’t there. He was absent. The second clue was that their eyes were all on you, and they all wore similar looking frowns. They all looked distraught and it didn’t make any sense to you why.

You glance back at Scott instinctively, chest tightening in nerves as you start pulling the sleeves of your jacket down your hands anxiously. You pause in your step, brows furrowing but then Scott’s walking past you and he’s coaxing you towards the table the rest of your friends are sat at. His smile is warm, but you know him too well not to notice the nervous expression in his eyes.

“Where’s... Where’s Liam?” You question softly, taking a seat next to Scott, Lydia on the other side of you.

“He, um,” Scott halts in the middle of his explanation, shaking his head. “I felt it best it was just us.”

Lips parting, you shake your head. “What does that mean?” Then, you glance around at the rest, puzzled. “What is this?”

Lydia pulls your focus on her by setting her hand over your own, squeezing gently. “Y/N, we, um... we know...”

Blinking, you swallow thickly. “What exactly do you know?”

“That you tried to kill yourself.”

Body seizing, your eyes are pulled to Stiles as he’s the one who so bluntly says the words. It’s the first time you’ve properly met his gaze since you sat down, and despite the shock of what he’d so bluntly said to you, you realize he looks like he might just cry. He looks hurt even, deeply upset.

He doesn’t stop there. “That you tried to get Scott to kill you—“

“Stiles!”

It’s Scott who hisses at Stiles, forcing him to a stop. But you don’t even properly hear it. Your gaze lowers to your lap and your heart starts to pound rapidly you realize as you feel it hit your chest erratically.

“Y/N,” you purse your lips as Scott calls for your attention, keeping your eyes trained on your lap. “I...—“

“I told you not to tell anyone,” you cut in, meeting his eyes with your own watery ones. You hadn’t even realized they started tearing until you realized you were staring a blurred version of your brother. “You promised me you wouldn’t.”

His lips part but he stammers for any kind of a response.

“I’m glad he told us,” Malia cuts in, leaning forward as you blink over at her. “I can’t believe you wanted to go through something like that alone...”

Her words hang in the air. Your eyes flicker from her across the rest, taking in everyone. And suddenly a bout of guilt floods you when you take in the hurt in their eyes. You hadn’t wanted to tell them, partly, because you knew they’d react like this...

Lips parting, you sniffle, “I’m... I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“Did you not tell us because you didn’t think we’d understand?”

“I didn’t want to tell anyone,” you shrug, shaking your head at Lydia. “Not even Scott,” you ignore the way he glances over at you. “I... I didn’t want to make it about me. There were more important things happening.”

“Nothing’s more important than you,” Stiles mumbles, but he refuses to meet your eyes. You pause at his words, shoulders falling as your lips part, unsure of how to respond.

“I think,” Scott speaks up, causing you to reluctantly then away from Stiles. “I think they just want to know if you’re okay. I... I want to know if you’re okay.”

Biting your lip, you glance towards your lap once more, fiddling with your fingers. “I am,” you whisper and then at the looks you receive, you shake your head. “Truly, or-or I’m getting better,” you assure softly. “I wasn’t and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I was... I was just scared. I—“ Your voice cracks and your resolve falls.

Lydia’s up on her feet instantly and you fall against her as her arms come around you, pulling you close. You let out a sob against her, feeling like a fool for falling apart so easily but at the same time, feeling loved.

You didn’t really just how badly you wanted to feel loved.

Another shadow falls next to you, and pulling back, you realize it’s Malia. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up until you see her standing before you, her lips curved into a deep frown as she takes a step towards you. Swallowing thickly, you return her hug, holding onto her tightly.

And as you embrace them, you don’t notice the way Scott glances over Stiles, or the way they glance at one another. You don’t realize just how guilty Stiles feels in that moment, coming to the realization that he’d left you when you needed him the most. He hadn’t known you’d been going through something so... so... terrifying. If he had, he probably could’ve understood.

Could’ve been there for you...

“We’re here for you, Y/N,” Lydia says softly as you pull back from Malia and turn to her. “Just like how you’re always there for us.”

Smiling faintly, you turn to Malia who nods firmly, smiling softly down at you; confirming Lydia’s words.

Then, your gaze drifts and you find yourself turning to Stiles. His eyes are already on you, but neither of you say anything. There’s something in his eyes, something you can’t understand. But you don’t dwell on it long before a figure falls before you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, swallowing thickly as you glance up at Scott. “For everything, Scott.”

And he smiles, nodding as he steps towards you.

For once, Scott feels as if he was finally able to be there for you.

Even if things weren’t great now, even if you were scared... you had your friends now too. And they’d be able to help.

Let me know what you thought?

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bigbrotherlouis · 4 years

Note

the bag of chips scene from 'i ate you up the day we first spoke' for the director's cut meme!

whoohoo i actually loved writing this scene and i’m so glad someone asked about it yeeee

(director’s cut meme)

everything eases back into normal. tk picks nolan up for practice, because nolan’s car is inexplicably always out of gas, (this is true, i read an article about it somewhere) and ties nolan’s ties for him on game days, and follows him into his living room to eat all the good snacks nolan hides on increasingly higher shelves.

“how did you even get those?” he asks when he comes out of the washroom and finds travis eating illegal all-dressed his mom had sent down in his last care package. he’s pretty sure they were hidden, like, on top of the cupboards this time. he literally had to throw them up there. (food, when you move countries, is a really big deal. i always want to keep the mutlicultural aspect of a lot of hockey players in mind, because i was a young multicutural person in the united states, and home foods is usually a good way to do it. all-dressed are pretty distinctly canadian, and my cousin gets her parents to send them to her in california, so i borrowed that from her. also i liked the image of TK climbing on the counters to try and get at a bag of chips.)

tk shrugs and crams a handful of chips into his mouth. “smart thinking.”

“those are mine.”

“i don’t see you eating them,” tk says smugly and nolan thinks about it for precisely point two seconds before he launches himself at the sofa. (no thoughts, head empty)

it’s a familiar ritual, this one. tk cackles, going limp so he can noodle off the cushions onto the floor, the bag still clamped in his hand. he scrabbles backwards until he’s out of reach of nolan’s admittedly long arms.

“sucks to suck, babe,” he gloats, except nolan is not emphatically giving up, those are his chips, and he’s not going to let his idiot of a best friend eat them all. tk grunts when nolan lands on his lower half, hard, and pins down his legs so he can’t escape. he sits on tk’s knees and ignores the yelling. (travis “has never shut up once in his life” konecny strikes again)

“mine,” he says savagely, snatching the bag out of his hands. tk huffs, shoving at his legs.

“it’s rude— not to— share— fuck, patty, what are you doing in the gym?”

“some of us don’t skip leg day.”

“yeah, well, some of us aren’t built like a fuckin’ ox,” tk complains, as if he’s not just as in shape as nolan is. “i can’t even fuckin’ pinch you because you’re wearing jeans.”

“now who’s the smart think— fuck!” (not you, pat. not tk either but still not you.) he shouts, flinching and rubbing at his side. that pinch is definitely going to bruise. tk uses it as a distraction to roll them, nolan’s shoulders thudding painfully against the floor, and straddles nolan’s stomach with his thighs. there’s another struggle but tk gets hold of nolan’s arms, pins them under his knees so nolan’s fists are at his sides. he’s effectively trapped. (too many nolans but what do you do when writing m/m. also this isn’t specific to this scene, but especially in hockey with all its nicknames, i like to write people’s internal narrative with whatever name they probably think of themselves as. that’s why nolan isn’t pat/patty here, and why tk is usually not travis)

“still me,” tk says, grinning at him with undisguised glee. he works the chips free and sits up, putting his weight just under nolan’s ribs so all the breath gets knocked out of him for a second.

“fucker,” nolan hisses, trying and failing to wriggle his way out. “what the fuck, teeks?”

“that’s what you get for not growing up with brothers, bro. gotta fight to survive. survival skills.”

“bud, you don’t even know. sisters have nails and they’re not fucking afraid to use them,” nolan says, his best murder glare in effect. he probably still has the scars in some places. (i know i do) tk snorts.

“sorry, i don’t see you scratching me here,” he says.

“let me go and i’ll scratch you up real good,” he threatens and then his brain catches up with his mouth, his face going red as he realises what he’s maybe implied. “uh.”

tk doesn’t take the obvious chirp, just raises an eyebrow. there’s a considering look on his face, one that makes nolan want to squirm more and it settles somewhere down deep in his stomach. (so i wrote this scene because i needed a turn for both of them, relationship-wise. iirc, there’s been a few places where tk’s interest might be noticeable, but nothing super concrete for pat or for the reader. meanwhile, on tk’s side, he needed clear signals that pat’s into him before he tries to tell him again.)

“uh,” he says again because his brain is just fucking offline and his arms are still locked under travis’ legs and travis burns hot because nolan can feel it against his skin, through his t-shirt, and this is all going to get incredibly, incredibly awkward in about three seconds. (unfortunately, i love a good run-on sentence to build tension) he’s pretty sure popping a boner because a teammate is sitting on you is, like, not something you can get away with by laughing.

tk shifts, sitting up the tiniest bit, and reaches out the hand that’s not currently occupied with the fuckin’ chips— probably all crushed to hell now, anyway (foreshadowing!! also strategic last mention here so we know that tk is still holding them, and then they aren’t mentioned until the shoe drops for optimal dramatic effect) — and brushes his fingers against nolan’s cheek. he traces the blush from his cheekbone carefully down his neck, pausing to thumb at his jaw, and then bumps his fingers against his collar, where it disappears down into his shirt. (i really liked building the tension here. also this is fully just projection bc i would love to touch patty’s blush once in my life)

“you’re glowing, pat,” he says, so soft, and it makes nolan go redder. he glowers at a spot by tk’s ear, unwilling to look him in the face and see whatever is written there. (would tk actually tell nolan he’s glowing? probably not, but fictionally it gives the reader a good picture of what nolan looks like to someone else. i didn’t want to overuse red-- which didn’t quite feel like a strong enough word-- or blush, so glowing it was.) tk hooks his index into the collar and there’s a moment when nolan thinks he’s going to pull it down, see if his blush goes all the way down his chest— it does, if he’s embarrassed enough. it’s fucking terrible— and he turns his head away, dragging in a breath through his nose. he’s, like, so incredibly fucked that he can’t even think about it without going dizzy. (you’ll probably see this a lot if you look for it in my writing, but i like to add in a “like” or something similarly bro-ish when things get particularly emotionally fraught, to keep it more realistic. also i think it’s funny. anyway, i like the contrast of tk not being able to take his eyes away from something he wanted and nolan not being able to look at it. characterisation, wahey!) it’s better to just not look.

of course, it’s the exact opposite of what tk wants.

“hey,” he says. “look at me.”

nolan refuses, a muscle ticking in his jaw. (this is hot to me idc) tk lets go of his collar to pull on his hair instead, just a little tug of a piece by his ear, and nolan can’t quite bite back the punched-out sound that he lets out. (also hot.)

“look at me,” tk says again, an edge to his voice, and nolan does. tk won’t stop until he does, he knows that well enough. (another look at their dynamic and how well they know each other) he lifts his chin, just a tiny bit, because he’s not going to do anything without a fight. tk’s hand tightens in his hair and it keeps him in place, nailed— ha— to the floor. (i write for the people whose brains make inappropriate jokes at the wrong moments) he couldn’t move if he wanted to, watches helplessly as tk leans down.

the hope in his chest is so thick, nolan thinks it might actually smother him, stop his heart. he’s breathing fast and shallow, almost on the verge of panting, and jesus fuck, isn’t that embarrassing. he’s so desperate, he could squirm with it and he briefly remembers travis months ago, writhing on his very rug and how much nolan wanted to help. he can smell snow again, sharp in the back of his nose. (this does the double work of calling back to an earlier scene-- ya girl loves a good callback-- and also building the anticipation some more. the snow reference reminds the reader that this is still a werewolf au, even in the midst of this. also, once when i was like fifteen, i read something about how to write kisses/romance and it talked about picking one or two aspects of the kiss to focus on-- breathing, hands, the feeling of someone’s mouth, etc. i still use that advice.)

tk shifts his weight and nolan has enough time to think holy fuck, is this happening? before travis fucking konecny upends the bag of all dressed-flavoured crumbs all over his face. (OKAY a lot going on here! it’s one of my favourite moments, really. first of all, here’s the resolution of all the chips talk! sure, i could’ve just abandoned them, but the subverting of expectations was a lot more fun and the story still wasn’t quite ready for them to kiss yet. second, this is tk chickening out. he had two choices and he chose violence. or, like, the buddies option, which is amusing to me because this is not buddies, boys. finally, the full name was necessary to convey nolan’s disappointment and anger, as was the full description of the chips. nolan is upset, and he’s going to notice these things, and that shows up in his internal narrative.)

“got ‘em,” he crows over nolan’s sputtering, letting himself get bucked off onto the floor. nolan wipes furiously at his face, all his feelings a confusing mix of horny and angry and confused, all with the thick overtone of humiliation.

“you’re a fucking dick,” he says and it’s flat, but tk is gloating too much to care. (he’s not, he’s trying to cover, but nolan’s too embarrassed to realise)

“you should’ve seen your face, pat.”

nolan glares daggers at the carpet, the chips spread out everywhere. it’s going to be a bitch to clean up. tk had better help. (makes sure the punch landed, and to give a final resolution.)

he leans against the sofa and waits for tk to tire himself out, listening to the laughter and trying not to get too angry or, like, cry. his neck feels hot, prickling uneasily. he rubs at it with his hand, startles when tk kicks him gently in the ankle. (in order for tk to not come out of this looking like an asshole, i needed him to make up his obliviousness by being observant in other times. and in order for tk to notice patty being mad, i needed to give patty actions that could be noticed, like not laughing along with the joke)

“sorry if i made you mad,” tk says quietly, all the giggles finally worked out of him. “you looked tense (no shit bud) and i thought it would make you laugh.”

it’s not tk’s fault nolan thought he was gonna, like, kiss him. (”like” again, to break up a too-honest moment) it was a dick move but tk doesn't have a cruel bone in his body, so: “it’s fine,” he mumbles and shrugs his shoulder. “it was funny.”

tk preens for a second. “i know.”

“you owe me a bag now.”

“i’ll buy you a family-sized pack. i’m sure they’ll ship it down here, amazon or ups or somethin’.” (patty’s attempting to be normal and tk is attempting to make amends.)

nolan nods and scratches at his face, tipping his head against the couch cushions. (little motions like him scratching his face aren’t super necessary for like plot or development, but it helps humanize characters and i like to add them in whenever i can, as long as it’s not overkill. they can also be helpful in pointing to emotional state without directly saying it.) it’s quiet for a few seconds, just the sound of them breathing heavier than usual, and it would be so normal. should be normal, by all counts, but nolan still kind of wants to crawl into a hole for while. wants to push tk out of the apartment and eat ice cream and google ‘how to stop a crush,’ like his sisters used to do when they were upset. he’s already googled it, a few days ago, and there was nothing but maybe someone’s offered good advice since then. (people make an impact on you, and family even more so, and i always like reminders of how close nolan seems to be with his sisters. also, it’s funny.)

tk flicks him on the wrist. (this is something that tk does consistently through the story, and even though it’s not super important to this scene, it establishes a behaviour in the larger story. that’s important too!)

“pat,” he says and it sounds it’s not the first time. nolan blinks.

“yeah?”

“i just asked you if you were hungry.”

“oh. uh. no, not really,” he answers truthfully. tk wrinkles his nose.

“do you, like, have anything in your fridge to eat?”

“mm, probably not.”

“typical,” tk mutters under his breath, as if he ever has anything regularly stocked besides protein powder and bacon. (protein rich foods that are easy to eat after a full moon, or after a workout) at least nolan has eggs pretty consistently. (also a protein rich food that’s less easy to eat after a full moon, but are easy to make when you aren’t a werewolf) “wanna go get sushi?”

nolan thinks about it. shoves his sweaty hair behind his ear and considers going out to their favourite place and pretending he’s not still fucking mortified. and, like, a little turned on. it makes him nauseous. (i get such physical reactions to emotional things that i write everyone into having them)

“no,” he says. he’s not facing tk but he can still see him deflate, his shoulders hunching over. “i don’t— no.”

“okay. that’s… okay.”

“i think i’m getting a migraine,” lies nolan. “think i’m just gonna lay down.”

“do you need me to stay with you? keep you company?”

nolan’s shaking his head before tk even finishes the thought. “no, trav. i’m fine, i promise.” (the trav here works as a signal that something isn’t right! it’s why tk looks at him for so long in the next line.)

tk studies him for a long minute, his eyes searching the side of patty’s face presented to him. nolan keeps his expression as blank as possible and stares hard at his feet.

“text me if you need anything,” he says finally, the words coming out slow and gentle. it’s a lot to handle. “i’ll come back.”

“i know. i will.” he won’t, but that’s not for tk to know. he doesn’t move when tk goes out the door, squeezes his eyes shut when the door doesn’t slam into its frame, (tk’s taking care of him, still!) and decides to leave the pile of crumbs to deal with later. (the climax of this scene happened a while ago so this is another little reminder of what happened, just so it’s solidified in the reader’s head after the longish comedown. i end scenes a LOT like this-- two actions, and then a callback-- because they’re simple and effective, and usually sound great!) /fin

ahh thank you so much for asking!! this was really fun to, like, process through and remember my logic for! i was actually really nervous writing this scene, because i knew the tension and the break had to be PERFECT for it to land right. but i do like how it turned out so at least there’s that. ily!!

#it took longer to write but i had fun!!#thank you caitlyn!!!!!!#fic talk #hockey rpf #hockey bros #my fic #hockey #tk/patty #idiots to lovers #cactusandfir #long post

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uncomfortable-writers · 5 years

Text

Lovebirds (Pietro x Reader)

(Gif credit to owner)

Fandom: Marvel

Character: Pietro Maximoff

Persona: Female

Word Count: 2,077

Request: i love love love your blog and was thinking if you could write a fanfic with pietro maximoff where reader and him are best friends (secretly in love with each other) and tony (who is reader's legal guardian bc she moved away from home to be avenger's computer engineer & has been training with them) teams up with others in teasing you two to finally fess up & team calls them smth like "slavic lovebirds" since reader is also from some slavic/balkan country? and talks a lot in her native language?

A/N - <3

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　

Begrudgingly, you stalked your way towards Tony’s lab. The cup of coffee in your hand growing colder by the second mirrored the ever souring expression on your face. You were not a morning person, not in the slightest. Raising your ID pass to the scanner the door opened with a click, “Good morning (Y/N)”, FRIDAY greeted cheerily, you grunted in response.

“Ah! (Y/N), just the person I need!”, Tony’s voice hollered loudly, he turned to face you and a lopsided grin formed on his face, “Someone got out of the wrong side of bed today”. Your frown deeped, “Заткнись“ (Shut up), with a sharp retort you took a swig of the lukewarm beverage. Tony stopped his tinkering momentarily to raise a bushy eyebrow at you, “Come again?”, he asked, spanner pointing accusingly at you. You couldn’t help but to smile at your mentor, “I said, what can I help you with?”. Half a smile pulled at his lips, “Huh..right. Can you take a look at this please?”.

You were quietly helping Tony, listening to his instructions carefully and following them still stuck in your bad mood although it wasn’t all doom and gloom.

It was fast approaching your first year of studying under the Iron Man himself. Being handpicked for an internship at Stark Industries was a dream come true for you but the end of the world for your family. Your mother and father continuously refused the applications sent through the post even going as far as to change the P.O box; it seemed nothing could sway their minds to allow their precious, (and only), daughter to leave the nest. That was until Tony Stark showed up on your doorstep. Your parents were unable to resist his charming ways, he had an answer to every question they’d asked. They had one last thing to ask. Tony had to become your legal guardian in order for you to move into the Avengers Compound and Tony agreed in a heartbeat, already feeling proud from the potential you’d shown in the tests leading up to the internship. Afterall there was no safer place in the galaxy than with the world’s only team of superheroes.

“Earth to (Y/N)”, Tony clicked his fingers in front of your face, “Something the matter kiddo?”. The recollection of events was disrupted, you answered with a sharp hum, “Just tired”. Your fingers tapped flawlessly away at the laptop placed on the workbench as you carefully documented Tony’s work. His brown eyes glanced up at you as he toyed with the machinery, “Are you sleeping okay?”, a brief expression of worry on his face, “Do you think you need to see a doctor? I can get Bruce to come give you a checkup?”. You half smiled at the Avenger, “Just tired”, you emphasised before working away in silence. Tony nodded in sympathy, knowing all too well the feeling.

The lesson passed with few comments from both parties as Tony opted to let you work in peace.

Suddenly the door opened to reveal no one. The papers scattered around the lab rustled as a precise wind flew past the desks, coming to a stop at your side. “Hey (Y/N)”, the accented voice drifted through the workspace, it belonged to the silver-haired Sokovian who you’d grown so fondly of these past months. In an instant your mood picked up.

“Hey Pietro!”, a wide, toothy grin settled on your face as you stopped your work to look up at the taller man, he was already smiling down at you, “How are you?”, Quicksilver asked politely. “I’m pretty good actually, how’re you?”. Pietro opened his mouth but he never got the words out to finish his sentence. A smirk pulled at the corner of Tony’s lips which he tried hard to bite back, “Well someone’s perked up, thought you were tired?”, his eyes darted between the two of you as he stopped his work to watch the scene unfold. A ghost of a blush painted the apples of your cheeks, smiling sheepishly at your mentor you replied, “Yeah I was but that was hours ago”.

Sassily, Tony placed his hands on his hips, “It was literally ten minutes ago (Y/N)”, he didn’t give you a chance to respond as his attention was then directed to Pietro, “And you. Why’re you interrupting our lesson?”. Now it was Pietro’s turn to be coy, “I came to bring (Y/N) a cup of coffee”. Tony looked at Pietro then to his hands and then to the desk, “I don’t see one”.

You wouldn’t of been able to tell that Pietro had dashed off had it not been for the slight movement of your hair, the rustle of papers and the fact that he now had in his hands your favourite mug, “Sorry I forgot it”. You beamed up at Pietro, eagerly you took the warm cup, “Thank you”. “Any time”, he grinned back. It was almost like Tony wasn’t there for you were both staring into each other’s eyes and smiling like crazy. “Alright alright”, Tony stated tapping his fingers against the workbench, “Stop flirting. You brought (Y/N) her coffee now dash off, we’ve got a lesson to continue”.

In a flash both your face and Pietro’s turned such a shade of red that it matched the colour of Tony’s Iron Man suit. “Yeah, yeah Stark”, Pietro rolled his eyes coolly as he tried to play off his embarrassment. Meanwhile you reluctantly returned to your laptop to hide your fluster. Slowly, but surely, Pietro made his way towards the exit, all without using his powers, “So, catch ya later for movie night?”, Pietro called, hope evident on his face. You nodded eagerly, “See ya at seven!”.

Pietro left the room and it fell into silence again until Tony couldn’t resist making a quip, “Ah so that’s why you’re so tired”.

//////////\\\\\\\\\\\

You were humming in the kitchen, wiggling your hips to the tune in your head. Your mood really improved once Pietro reminded you of movie night. It was like a shared ritual which happened whenever Pietro had free time, it wasn’t easy being an Avenger. Gathering snacks was an equally important part of said ritual almost as important as the film you were watching, (Pietro mostly let you stick on whatever you wanted without much protest, mostly).

Being so caught up in your happy state you didn’t hear Pietro enter the kitchen; one of his many advantages of being able to move so fast.

He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his lips upturned in a smile as he watched you swaying about the kitchen. You were reaching up at the top shelf on the cupboard knowing it was where the silver-haired man kept his favourite snacks, but as he was at least a foot taller than you, it was impossible to get them without parkouring onto the side. Just as you were about to climb onto the counter he decided it was time to make an appearance.

“эй принцесса”,(Hey Princess) Pietro suddenly appeared next to you, looking just as dapper as ever, “нужна помощь?”, (Need a hand?). You rolled your eyes up at him frivolously, “Мне бы не понадобилась помощь, если бы кто-то не решил прятать вещи на верхней полкеь”, (I wouldn’t need help if someone hadn’t decided to of hide stuff on the top shelf). Pietro chuckled at your remark, “Last time I left things where people could reach Clint ate my entire emergency stash”, he recalled the memory with a faint frown on his face which soon ebbed away when his blue eyes focused on you again, “So do you want help or not?”. You couldn’t resist the cheeky grin which graced Pietro’s face, “I’m not grow anytime soon”, you smirked with a shrug of your shoulders. Quicksilver’s hands were played on your hips in less than a second, it was like they were perfectly sculpted to your figure. The warmth they gave off was delicious, you tried to ignore the feeling as he lifted you. You made quick work of gathering the snacks. They clanged loudly as they hit the side. Pietro lowered you to the floor where he kept one hand firmly on your hip, you didn’t mind as you leaned into his chest. It was like second nature.

Natasha observed the scene, a warm smile on her face.

“Don’t mind me interrupting”, she said softly, her steps even lighter as she crossed the doorway into the kitchen. You jumped away from Pietro like he had burnt you, “Дерьмо! Вы почти дали мне сердечный приступ“, (Shit! You almost gave me a heart attack), you clutched dramatically at your chest, trying to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “Будь немного громче в следующий раз“, (Be a little louder next time), Pietro chided wanting nothing more than to pull you back into his chest. Natasha grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, her teasing expression never fading, “Sorry for interrupting”. You quickly stuttered a reply, “T-There was n-nothing to interrupt”.

As she was leaving the room, she paused to look back at you two, “Не волнуйся, я не скажу Тони”, (Don’t worry, I won’t tell Tony). As soon as the words left her mouth, she was off.

Breathing in through his nose Pietro quickly recovered the mood, “Well grab the snacks and lets get going love”.

A few moments later and you were on the couch in front of the giant, flat screen T.V.. You’d just shoved in Cinderella. Pietro patted the empty space next to him as he held up the large fluffy blanket, he tilted his head as he waited expectantly. You waddled over and jumped into the space, practically leaching into his side as the movie started to play. His hand traced patterns into your thigh as you placed your head on his chest, “Удобная принцесса?”, (Comfortable Princess?). “Конечно”, (Of course). Happy with your answer, he rested his head on top of yours.

You and Quicksilver were too engrossed in each other’s company, the movie to realise that you had company.

“They’re cute aren’t they”, Tony watched fondly content that his adoptive daughter was happy. Natasha gave him the side eye, “They really are, but isn’t it a little weird to be spying on them?”. Tony smirked at her, “Not spying, just passing by”.

Pietro was finally building up the nerve to confess something, he hadn’t been focusing on the film just on the fact that in this moment everything felt right. He coughed awkwardly to grab you attention, “Hmm?”, you pushed off of his chest so you were face to face with him. “I’ve just been thinking y’know”, Pietro seemed to look everywhere but at you. “You? Thinking? That’s dangerous”, you teased, unable to keep the giggle spilling from your lips as his face screwed up. “I like you (Y/N)”, his voice was a mere whisper. You’re heart sped up but you tried to dismiss it as Pietro just showing his affection, “I like you too”. He sighed and moved his hand from your thigh to cover your own, “Нет, я имею в виду, ты мне нравишься больше, чем друг”, (No I mean I like you more than a friend). Your eyebrows raised to your hairline. Never in a million years did you imagine Pietro would like you in the same way too, “ты мне тоже нравишься”, (I like you too).

“What do you think they’re talking about?”, Tony quietly asked Nat. Now it was her turn to smirk at the billionaire, “You don’t wanna know”. This caught Tony’s attention, “Um excuse me what do you mean?”. Natasha just nodded at the couch, where Pietro was leaning in, both of your lips puckered.

“There will be absolutely no making out sessions on my favourite couch”, Tony whined suddenly making his presence known. For the second time today you jumped apart, “Aww come on Tony, did you have to ruin the moment?”, you moaned burying your face into Pietro’s chest. “What else was I supposed to do? Let you go full on washing machine mode while you’re sat in my favourite spot? I don’t think so”, Tony goaded, “FRIDAY’s gonna keep an eye out, she catches anymore funny business and its bedtime for the both of you”. Natasha entered the room before you or Pietro could respond, she wrapped a tiny hand around Tony’s arm and started to pull him away from the door, “C’mon Tony leave the Slavic lovebirds alone”.

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff fanfic #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #reader insert #female reader #reader x pietro #reader x pietro maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfic #uncomfortable writers #mcu #aaron taylor johnson

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fuckcanontbh · 5 years

Text

confessions in plain sight *stozier*

So this is for @ceftali in @stoziersecretsanta gift exchange! Sorry if this is late for you, but it is officially two hours into Christmas for me! This is my first time writing these characters so I apologize for any OOC-ness that happens. This is also my first contribution to the fandom, I hope you enjoy!

Note: bold lettering is Richie’s handwriting, words in [brackets] are actual song lyrics. Does contain swearing.

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The sun beat down on the group, water dripped from their hair, and despite everything huge smiles were on everyone's faces as Mike told a story from the farm. Today was the first day of summer, so all of their backpacks crowded the space as well. Soon enough the group would be dry enough to get dressed and hang out in the club house until dinner time.

"Look, all I'm saying is that half of the problems in horror movies could be fixed if the characters weren't such idiots. I mean, really? If you see the murderer, why would you scream so he sees you?" Eddie's voice was the only noise as the group headed down into the club house. "Y-yeah. But you have to t-th-think that it's for dramatic e-effect. The character's can't always have a s-s-satis-satisfying ending." The group's leader argued further with Eddie, the two of them continuing their debate in a corner of the clubhouse.

"You're actually going to be starting school with us next year, Mike? Maybe now you'll actually believe us on how crazy school can be! All the stories we've told you about Richie and Bev are true, and Richie told me he's got some crazy stuff planned for our senior year!" Ben's excited voice came from another side of the clubhouse, Mike and Bev sitting in front of him on bean bags the group had added when winter made the ground too cold and hard to sit on comfortably. Stan watched all of this happen and then his eyes fell on Richie, who was unusually quiet as he sat in the hammock, reaching into his bookbag for something. "What are you looking for?" Richie jumped at Stan's voice, but quickly pulled a comic out of his bag. "Nothing but the newest X-Men comic, Stanny my boy, you'll never believe the kind of shit Storm cooks up this time!" Stan peered down at Richie, but the boy's grin seemed genuine so he shrugged and sat down, looking over Richie's shoulder. ~ "Alright, we'll see you tomorrow! Meeting at my house at four, right?" Beverly had already made her way up the ladder, but Ben was still waiting for an answer from Richie and Stan. "Haystack, you know I'll be there. Can't let your mom miss me too much!" Stan's hand reached out to smack Richie before he could stop it. "Tell everyone Richie has been uninvited." Ben simply laughed at their antics and shook his head as he climbed out into the little bit of sunlight left.

"We should probably head out soon, did you want to come over for dinner?" The blonde stood and brushed imaginary dust off his shirt and khakis. "Uh, hell yeah! Mrs. Uris makes the best food around here! Don't tell Ben I said that, his mom's cookies are good as hell." "Yeah, yeah. C'mon Trashmouth, I think mom is making meatballs and spaghetti squash." ~ Stan's house had been Richie Tozier free for about thirty minutes when Stan noticed Richie had left his bookbag next to his bed in his haste for dinner. The zipper was mostly undone and everything was one trip away from being all over Stan's floor. The boy rolled his eyes and bent down to zip it up when a small notebook caught his eyes. The book itself was simple on the outside, but it looked like a bunch of random things were also stuck into the book, making it thicker than it needed to be. It also looked like it was almost full, a slim part of the back of the notebook was still flat.

"Just leave it alone, Stan, it's none of your business." The boy brushed his teeth and put on his matching blue and white striped pajamas before climbing into bed. Minutes seemed to drag on forever before Stan stopped fighting himself and turned on his lamp before he grabbed the notebook. "It's probably just some dumb jokes Richie's thought of...or maybe some songs he's working on?" ~ 'Science HW due Thurs 28th' 'hang out after school @ quarry' '[Somewhere I'd never ever known, right at the back of my head, it hit me like a flashlight lighthouse beam of light]' ~ "Seems like it's just somewhere for him to put all his thoughts. Wonder who the song's about..." With the idea that the book was just a glance at Richie's mind as it worked a mile a minute, Stan continued reading. ~ 'Bev is the best!! girl offered me smokes even after i had to convince her skipping mrs. hepburns class was a good idea.' 'FUCK BOWERS' 'Math HW due Tues 4th' '[Cause you talk to me and it goes over my head...]' 'operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams walk her to class!! maybe walk her home sometimes? don't offer too much help bc bev hates that! write more of his sappy poems' 'gotta stop with the your mom jokes, not funny anymore' 'why is history so boring? REMINDER: ask ben to explain' 'start saving money-no more big spending at the arcade' ~ Stan scoffed at the thought of the curly haired boy giving up his favorite past time. "What's he even need to save money for anyway? He's already gotten that truck of his." ~ 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, wed, fri' 'do i have an "it" factor? don't wanna miss out on making my mark on the world.' 'i don't even think he knows he does it. soft little smile on his face when he gets to a difficult problem, who does he think he is???' 'ma and dad fought all last night again. big bill asked what was up but i didn't want to talk about it. comedy is a good distraction' 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, tues, wed, fri' 'glad i saved up some money, had to buy groceries again. ma's getting real bad again. haven't seen dad in a few days.' 'can't believe i got lucky enough to have such good friends. billy invited us all over for a horror movie marathon, ben and bev were put in charge of snacks. seems operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams is in motion. good for him! now if only i could get bill, mike, eddie, and stan lovers...' '[you've been on my mind boy girl since the flood]' 'ma passed out on the couch last night, guess it's a good thing i'm a lot bigger now. carried her to bed then went for a drive.' 'i swear he gets prettier the more i look at him' 'haystack just told me he scored a date!!!' 'HW due wed 18th' 'dad came home last night. got a good earful from him. maybe i should just stop talking? not like i got the nickname 'trashmouth' for something good. wonder if anyone would even notice' 'taught myself how to make chicken alfredo, actually got ma to eat with me.' 'i think i'm gonna tell him' 'nope. not gonna tell him. there's no way it would end good. out of all of our friends he's the least likely to want me' 'they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to love at all. but then it's 2 am and all you can think about is him, and you know he isn't thinking about you' ~ Stan snapped the book shut and quickly shoved it back into Richie's bag, thoughts flooding his mind. "Who is this boy Richie is crushing on? Is it Eddie? Eddie does yell at him a lot...and they have a bunch of classes together." "I didn't know things had gotten so bad at home. Mrs. Tozier used to be a saint.." "Is Richie okay?" He couldn't pin point why, but as he clicked his lamp off, Stan's chest hurt, but before a tear could escape his eyes he rolled over and pulled his covers up to his chin. ~ "Hey Rich, you left this at my house last night." Stan held the bag in-between them, his eyes refusing to meet Richie's, his chest still tight like the night before. "Stan the Man! My savior, got some important goods in here!" The blonde's eyebrows raised, finally looking at Richie's face just for the boy to look away quickly. "Can't lose my comic so soon now can I?"

"My mom made cookies!!" Ben walked into the living room, plate piled with chocolate chip cookies in his hands. "Ben Handsome, you are nothing if not the son of a saint, if you know what I mean." Richie dived for the plate, one cookie already in his mouth and three in his hands.

"Beep, beep, Richie!" Eddie scoffed and bumped the boy's shoulder, taking one cookie from Ben's plate. Stan watched as Richie's shoulders deflated, and the brunet ate his second cookie much slower. Before he could say anything Mike and Beverly's voices took everyone's attention towards the TV.

"We're not doing more horror movies, we did that like two weeks ago!" Beverly was swatting at the movies in Mike's hands, trying to reach across him to put her VHS into the VCR player. "She's not w-wr-wrong Mike. Let's just do the Disney marathon." At Bill's words Mike sighed and gave in, backing away from the TV so suddenly that Beverly fell forward slightly.

"Did you see that foul play my good man? Foul play I say!" Richie nudged Bill just to be shrugged off as the boy grabbed a cookie and moved to sit on the couch. ~ "I think I'm gonna go ahead and head home you guys. I'm getting one of those notorious Tozier headaches." Richie stood behind the couch as the credits to Bambi played, bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, bye Richie." "See ya, Trashmouth." "I think I'm gonna head out too, gotta help my mom clean up a bit before my aunt stays with us." "Dang, bye Stan." "Have fun with that Stan!" ~ "Hey Rich, think you can give me a ride?" The boy nodded and started his truck, hurriedly throwing a couple things behind the bench seat of his truck.

"Only the best for a prince, amiright?" If Stan didn't know better he'd say Richie's ears had gone a little pink. His truck started and he pulled out of Ben's driveway onto the road.

"Are you actually getting a headache Richie? Cause if not, I wanna talk.." His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter but Richie put on a smile and glanced at Stan.

"Always knew you could see through me. Don't know if we can have this conversation without your mother though, she wanted to be the one to break the news."

"Oh shut up asshole." Despite his words Stan felt himself smiling as Richie snickered.

"I just want to say I'm sorry first. Because I shouldn't have pried. But I thought it was just gonna be stupid stuff. Maybe some black mail material."

"Wait, you read my fucking journal? Stanley that's fucked dude! I would never do that to you. I can't believe you went through my bag. Guess straight cut Stan isn't as honest a man as I thought. Dude, what is your problem?"

A red light had stopped them, and Richie was able to look at Stan in the eye now, his brown eyes angry, but also coming off as slightly panicked.

"Look, I really didn't mean to get into your heavy shit. I thought it was just gonna be full of those little doodles you do in class and some new song lyrics. I didn't read too much of it Just a couple pages, maybe three tops! It's just got me worried about you."

"What did you read Stanley? Worried I'm sick? I can't really say I'm surprised." Brown eyes rolled and he clicked his tongue as he pulled forward.

"Sick? What- no. I'm worried about your mom and dad."

"You know that's none of your fucking business. We're just fine at the Tozier residence. Nothing has changed, Went works all the time and Ma takes care of the house. Don't start talking like you know anything about them. Get out of my car, Uris."

"Rich-"

"No, I said I'd give you a ride home, and here we are. The Uris residence. Go help your mom clean up and figure out how to stay out of other people's business."

Stan sighed and hung his head as he got out of the truck, only turning his head towards the street when Richie sped off, a cloud of smoke following him. ~ "Beverly, I really messed up the other day." "Sweetheart, Richie is known for the theatrics, don't let it get you down." "Yeah, Stan, that boy is like a rubber ball, he'll bounce back."

A shaky hand worked it's way through blonde curls, brown eyes bounced around the room, landing on Bev sitting in the window smoking, the radio sitting next to her turned down quiet enough for them to talk over, and Mike sitting criss cross on the bed.

"Stan, what even happened? I have never seen you this worried over some little fight with Richie."

"Look, I know it was wrong, but I accidentally read his very personal journal." Stan cringed as he said the words, already feeling Mike's eyes on him when Beverly whipped her head in his direction.

"How do you accidentally read someone's journal man?" "What did you read Stan?

Mike and Bev spoke at the same time, and Bev's cigarette was out before Stan could explain.

"Look, he's just got some shit going on at home, and he doesn't want to bother us with it...andIthinkhemighthaveacrushonEddie." "What was that last part?" "I think he mighthaveacrushonEddie." "Stan, breathe sweetheart we aren't gonna yell at you." "I think he might have a crush on Eddie and I'm not sure why I'm upset about it."

Mike and Bev shared a knowing look over Stan's down tilt head, Bev's eyebrows raised in a silent question that Mike answered with a nod.

"You may be one of the smartest most oblivious person I've met Stanley Uris." "You've had that boy wrapped around your finger since you became friends in second grade." "Guess you just didn't realize he had you around his finger as well."

Mike's words stung at first, but when Beverly pointed out who Richie's crush was, Stan's face lit up like a light. His cheeks dusted with pink as he met their eyes.

"You're being serious. Fuck, now I've really messed up. He thinks I hate him!" ~ "This is such a bad fucking idea. He hates you right now Stan." With a sigh the boy threw the first stone at the second floor window. It took three stones for Richie Tozier to open his window, and only one glance to see Stan before he was retreating again.

"Wait, Richie! Please, I just want to talk. Can we go for a ride?" Stan watched with bated breath as the shadow at the window hovered another moment before it retreated.

"Called that one."

And then Richie was climbing down the siding of his house.

"Be careful! Why didn't you use the front door dumbass?" All Stan got in response was an eye roll and a thumb pointing to the car in the drive way, Went was home.

"Oh." "Yeah, oh. Let's go. Been itching to go somewhere anyway." ~ The only sound in the truck was the two boys' breathing and a soft static from the radio. Stan swallowed air and watched as they passed the movie theatre.

"Look, I really am sorry. I just want you to talk to us more. You're acting like some shitty parenting is where we draw the line, have you completely forgotten that fucking clown?"

"I know. Sorry for being a brat the other day. I just don't like people to see that stuff, I have a reputation ya know? Comedian first, dumbass second, and softie never." Richie turned left, leading to the outskirts of town.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to ruin this perfect "class clown" persona you've got going on."

"Stanley Uris, did you just use air quotes to describe my entire personality to me?"

A chuckle escaped Richie and the truck air suddenly felt much lighter. "You're a lot more than that you know. You're more than some shitty but perfect timed your mom jokes. We keep you around for a lot more than a laugh." "What else am I good at Stan? All I do is mouth off and tell bad jokes." Brown curls came down from Richie's bun as he shook his head, leading the two of them past a sign asking visitors to come back to Derry.

"They may be bad jokes, but they still make us laugh. You're always the first one to put aside time for any of us, all we have to do is ask. And- stop shaking your head. Who took the time when we were all younger to listen to Eddie explain which of his inhalers were for what and how to administer them? Who learned how to cut hair just to help Bev save money and keep it trimmed? Who helped Mike shear the sheep when Spring started just so he could hang out with us sooner? Who practiced endless tongue twister with Bill to help with his stutter? Who did all that? Richie Tozier did. You give us everything and never expect anything back. All I wanna do is give back. God knows you deserve it."

"Hey now, don't bring the big man into this conversation." Despite the levity of what he was saying, Stan could hear the tears on the other boy's voice.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You just have such a big heart, and I think sometimes you don't know what to do with it...I saw the notes about a boy. You know we wouldn't judge you for that! Shit, none of us batted an eye when Big Bill came out as bisexual, so why would we care. You deserve to be happy, Rich. I just want you to be happy."

The more he spoke, the quieter Stan's voice became and the louder his blood rushed in his ears. Silence enveloped the truck again, and soon the tires came to a stop over a patch of grass.

"Did you mean all of that?"

Richie Tozier was not a small boy anymore, he was all long limbs of 6'2, and had developed a jawline sharp enough to cut a man, but right now, in the dim light of his dashboard, swallowed by a grey hoodie and hunched over, Richie Tozier reminded Stan of that scared boy in the sewers.

"Every last word. And I think you should know that a little birdie told me that I might be the inspiration for some of those lovely lyrics in your book..." Glasses nearly flew off Richie's face with how quickly he shot his head up, worried brown eyes magnified by the lenses.

"Bev, that bitch."

"I wouldn't say that quite yet. She pointed something else out to me too. She said I've had you wrapped around my finger since we met in second grade, but she also said that you've had me wrapped around your finger for a while now too. And I've got to say, she's right. Can't believe she knows me better than both of us. But yeah, Rich, you've had me wrapped around your finger since you told my mom at age six that she had better get used to you because you'd be around for a while."

Richie put the truck in park, unbuckled and shifted to be more in the middle of the truck, and the yellow of the radio highlighted the pink on his cheeks perfectly. "Stan...I don't really know what to say. Still can't believe she ratted me out like that."

"Say you're gonna let us in more. Say she was right. Say you want to give this a shot.”

"I want to give this a shot. I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since we were twelve." A warm hand gently took Stan's as he spoke, squeezing gently before he scooted just a bit closer.

"Slow down there Tozier, I've only just opened my eyes to the fact that you might be it for me, let me catch up before we start tossing the L word around. Buy me dinner first at least."

A genuine chuckle and Richie moved back to his seat, his hand still in Stan's. "How bout a late dinner at-", brown eyes glanced at the clock,"-nearly one a.m?" "Lead the way, Tozier. I'll be right with you."

#stozier #it #secret santa #this is my first contribution to the fandom #im so nervous rn #send help #thanks

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