#and when it finally seems resolved they still keep just dragging it OUT like oh my god please just put us out of our misery

[uitzinnigmp3]

yay for noah and finn understanding anaïs and standing up for her but oh my god not this AGAIN. yes we know hanne & the rest are mad at anaïs. we know she feels guilty. we FUCKING KNOW. and where is bobbie in all this? she now knows that anaïs confessed but besides being shocked in the bathroom she's not doing anything or talking to anaïs? finn & noah are all of us saying that they should talk lmao. also that comment from ada was so ..... girl pls. YOU let HIM go, remember? and if you want him back then you could uhh. tell him? maybe? god i know these are children but theyre soooo infuriating sometimes lmao

[bunnys-kisses]

bear den

bear!john price

cw: pwp/smut, hybrid!au, bunny!reader, bear!price, scenting, breeding, biting, headlock, doggy style, dirty talk, reverse cowgirl

bunny says and you'll never catch me alive!

edit: part two

to be with a bear was something interesting. especially one as much of a lover as price. oh price was just perfect all over. those blue eyes that made you feel protected and warm. that strong grip of his as he bullied his cock into you. he was a strong, with a bit of softness to him and hairy all over. he loved tugging on your little bunny ears while he slammed his cock into your sweet pussy.

the first time you met him. it was quite scary. the dead of winter deep within the woods you called home. you managed to get your way into the warmth of his cabin/den. but your mother told you to never enter the den of a bear. what you soon saw was the lumbering form of bear hybrid.

"what are you doin' here?" he grumbled. his voice heavy was sleep. he was in hibernation after all. but his cock was hard in his sweat pants. he yawned, "if you're gonna make yourself at home. it's gonna cost ya."

the curious bunny gave head to the hairy bear. a tale as old as time. but the notion of bunny cunt seemed to entice the bear and he grabbed you by the ears and dragged you back into his den. the smell of bear was a lot for you, the dominate scent even made you iron resolve crumble. the wetness in your worn panties.

'this'll do." he grumbled as he tossed you on the bed. he got you under the covers. tore off your meager clothes and fucked your bunny hole half asleep. you on the other hand were wide awake. the breath taken out of you. he got through two rounds before his sleepiness took over and he went back to sleep.

he kept you after that, he told you a little bunny like you needed to be protected. who knew what was out there, in the deep darkness of the forest. so you spent the following seasons with him.

you became his lover, he even planted a carrot garden for you when the snow melted. oh he loved his bunny. he loved to tug on your cotton tail or take you by the face to look at him while he had you pressed up against the side of the cabin and your back bent.

but when winter came, he made sure his bunny was taken care of while he was asleep. bunnies could hibernate if they felt safe enough, but you wouldn't be dead to the world if you did.

but in all fairness, the smell of bunny in his cabin didn't keep him asleep for long. you woke up in the morning, snow was pressed up against the window. but the sun shined in.

the smell of price in your bedroom was overwhelming. the room was small, but the big was large. but price's hairy body still made you feel small on the bed. so the smell of the bear hung heavy. the bed had every blanket, pillow, sweater, stuffed animals, anything else he could find to make his nest. the final piece was you. where he tucked you in and snuggled you until he eventually dozed off.

you had been asleep for over a day now, you looked over and saw him sound asleep. you reached for him and kissed him on the nose. his arm was heavy over you. you shifted in your spot and got out from under him.

but you couldn't get out of bed. as he grabbed you by the tail. "where ya goin', love.' he said with sleep heavy in his voice, "i didn't tell ya you could leave." then you were dragged back into bed with a 'hmfph'.

he snuggled you back into his arms, "you don't have my smell on ya." he grumbled as he rubbed his face up against your bare chest. there was no point in having clothes on while in the nest. you were under so many layers you were already warm enough.

"john!" you squeaked as his tongue came out and started to lick across your pulse, "it's only us in the entire area. plus it's only to the kitchen."

"no." he said, he ran his teeth across your pulse, "gotta smell like me." you made a noise as he, in tired trance, got you on your hands and knees. the weight of the blankets and his larger body kept you pinned to the soft mattress.

"john!" you whined, "c'mon!"

he grumbled something. his cock slid up and down your pussy as he tried to push it into you. you arched your back in anticipation. poor price, his head was full of sleepy cotton. he relied on instinct and right now it was directing him to breed his little nest mate.

you moaned, to have your face buried in the pillow. that reeked of your lover only made you wet between your legs. as if the leftover cum from your lover wasn't enough lube for his impressive size. he was big all over. so different from your tiny bunny self, no wondered he wanted to protect you.

and breed you.

your heart raced as he finally got his cock into you. he sank into your sweet cunt. he groaned as he leaned over you and put his arm around your neck and bent your back. his thrusts were sloppy, there was no rhyme or reason, only what felt good.

"you feel so good, love.' he grumbled, "always so perfect for me." his gaze was unfocused, his voice sleepy and slurred, "a good little bunny for me. with your cotton tail and those ears. my girl though, right? all mine? not gonna have ya run off with a coyote or somethin'. keep ya home, keep ya full." he gave you a lazy smile as our eyes met. he leaned in and licked across your cheek. his bear ears twitched at the taste of your soft skin against his rough tongue.

your core throbbed, the entire feeling. the coziness of your den that you shared with price left you feel soft and warm. you were comfortable and safe, so why not let price breed you? you were already so soft and warm, let your brain let it go and accept him.

he held you close to him, bent to his liking to have the best angle of your pussy. his broad paws were all over you, he held your throat and around your middle as he thrusted up into you.

"john." you whimpered, your focus was hazy and your thoughts dripped away like melted snow. the sun shined thought the window of your den, it bathed you in a bright glow.

"i know. i know." he purred, he blinked to get a little more awake, "so small. i could crush ya easily. poor little bunny got caught up with a big bad bear. now she sharin' a nest with him and letting him bully her sweet little cunny."

his words made your brain mushy.

the bed creaked under your love making, he still held you like a toy for his pleasure. he lazily made out with you as he moved you up and down his cock. he groaned, his lips close against yours, "my girl. my little bunny. i love the feeling of ya around me."

you made small noises and hearty pants as the movements continued. as he kept ramming against your sweet sex. you were a right fit for him. after all these months you still were so good for him.

he watched your focus come in and out. your tongue stuck a little out of your mouth. the little bunny had her brains fucked out, oh no! he let go of you. his hands on you as he maneuvered your once more and got you into a reverse cowgirl. the blankets were kicked to the bottom of the bed.

he was propped up against the headboard and kept you in his lap. his cock buried into your slick pussy. he held onto your hips and bounced you on his cock. he wished he could see your breasts bounce with every thrust, but to watch the sweat drip down your back.

your nest got heated, your scent bled a little bit into the air of the room. it was musky and comforting. to be fucked by a bear was something unlike anything you could describe. he just fit you so right.

"good girl."

"john."

"i know, i know." he groaned. the rush of pleasure raced through his body as it did yours. he felt the same euphoric of having his cock buried into his sweet mate. he made sure that his scent was all over you, he was certain it would stick this time.

you leaned forward and held onto the covers that were between his legs. he watched how your pussy swallowed up his cock with each movements of your hips. he licked his lips as he moved your faster.

he watched your cotton-tail twitch, it almost made him cum at that moment. he continued to move your hips, the rush of climax almost washed over him.

the two of you made love like animals in your nest that he had built for you. to protect you. his cock throbbed in your cunt and with a few more thrusts he finished inside of you.

"ah!" you whined as you arched your back. you came as well and clutched onto the sheets. your toes curled and you felt your heart racing.

price felt content as he smothered you in his pecs. they were softer and hairy. he had gotten a little thicker for the winter. you made a soft noise as you were buried in them.

"john."

"i know bunny, i got ya. now sh, time to go back to sleep." he purred as he grabbed the blankets with one hand but kept you to him with the other. he buried you back under the nest of blankets.

yeah, that sounded like a great idea. you weren't even too sure if you could walk if you got up. so with the glow of the morning sun peeking through your window, you fell back asleep with your face in your mate's chest.

-

it was spring now. but you and your bear mate have been slow to wake up for it. price still was in a tired mindset, constantly cuddled up to your partially swollen belly. you were only four months, but price still adored how you carried his cub.

he made a gruff noise and cuddled up with your middle further. his facial hair which had grown over hibernation brushed up against your exposed middle. such a cute little bunny and her adoring mate.

you ran your fingers through your hair as you heard the birds chirp outside and the sound of melting snow. next winter it would be you, price and your little cub all sharing a nest to sleep soundly through the winter <3

xoxo,

bunny

part two <3

[miriamladyvoid]

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My ask: Yes, orders are finally open! >:D I can request a scenario of Diasomnia Boys x (fem) reader listening to her sing with a sad voice the song of "The other woman" by Lana del Rey (you can refuse if the request does not convince you, your writing always makes my day )

Sure! I’ll do my best! And thank you, that’s so nice of you to say! I hope you don’t mind, but I made them headcanons instead. (I think. I’m not very good with fanfic lingo.) It was just easier for me at the moment.

The reason The Prefect/Reader feels a connection to the song is up to you, obviously. (Example, They were cheated on in the past, one of their parents cheated on the other, or they just like the song.)

Diasomnia, Not The Other Woman. Fem!Reader. Established relationship.

A soft, sad voice met his ears, making him perk up. He was pretty sure he’d never heard the song before. Looking up, he saw his beloved bustling around her dorm, dusting and putting random junk Grim and the Ghosts left lying around into a trunk she had dragged out of the other room.

What could she have experienced in her life to make her sing such a song with such feelings behind it?

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was pretty sure she forgot he was there.

He was scared that she somehow thought she was the “other woman” to him.

“My Dearest, what song is that?”

Nearly let out a sigh of relief when she explained that it wasn’t a song she came up with and was instead a song performed by an artist she enjoyed in her original world.

Offered to play his violin for her sometime.

She got super excited when she got the idea about singing along while he played the Violin, and he liked the idea himself.

Might or might not have fantasies about playing along while she sings their future children to sleep, now. (Nope, definitely does not.)

But something that definitely did happen is that Malleus was determined never to have her feel such sad feelings because of him. (He already was, but his resolve strengthened. You know, you know.)

Silver

It would’ve lulled him back to sleep if he wasn’t concerned about how sad she sounded as she sang it.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” “Yup!”

Her voice took on it’s usual tone.

When he asked about it she told him that the song was from a artist in her home world, but she felt a connection to it.

He didn’t ask for the reason, he was sure she would tell him one day when she was ready.

He began to help her tidy up, only to begin to fall asleep after awhile.

But he was still awake enough to register her giggling and leading him back over to the sofa and putting a blanket over him.

When he felt her lips meet his cheek and heard her whisper a “I love you sleep well”. He smiled, falling asleep for real to the sound of her lovely voice.

Sebek Zigvolt

(Okay, but in all seriousness, (Sorta, I’m mostly joking here) MC would be the other woman… Next to Malleus.)

What song is that?! Is this your way of telling me you think I’m cheating on you?!”

She began to die laughing and explained that it was a song from her home world.

“Oh…”

She stopped singing for a while until he said, “You can… Keep singing, if you want.”

She tried not to laugh at his bashful way of asking her to keep singing, and continued with the song.

Later, Sebek decided to tell her about some of the lullabies Lilia used to sing to him, Malleus and Silver.

Because he wants her to sing to him. A fact that he hints at, but can never seem to bring himself to say plainly.

Boy’s way of “hinting” is pretty much just asking her how one song or another went, doesn’t matter if he’s the one who taught her all the words, he’s forgotten them, and no! He can’t look them up! You look them up!

Sebek really does like her voice, it holds power behind it, meaning you can always hear the emotion behind it.

He’d like to hear her sing along with his master’s playing someday. (Did you really think Malleus wouldn’t have something to do with this?)

Lilia Vanrouge

You have a lovely voice my darling.”

She squealed in surprise as his lips brushed aginst her ear. Earning a laugh from him in the process.

He figured it was a song from her original world, so he asked her about it.

She started talking about how she sympathize with the woman in the song.

Lilia decides to teach her some of his favorite songs. And asks her to teach him some more songs from her world.

He likes the idea of singing together.

Soon, he can join in with a number of songs she taught him whenever she starts to hum, and vice-versa.

They sound great together. The other members of Diasomnia, or the ghosts or Ramshackle, always get a smile on their face when they hear the voice of The Diasomnia Vice Housewarden and The Ramshackle Prefect harmonizing together. (Grim likes it to, but doesn’t care to admit it.)

The original publication and writing belongs to @hiddenbythefakepinksnow (Post recovered) 31/10/22

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Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: Adonis: Sorrowful Reminiscences. Second Banner: Birch Betula: Remorse. Third Banner: Fern Filices: Concealed Love.

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 6

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, description of grotesque creatures, some monster smut (light), and some dubcon (lightly). Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

This part unveils a new evil!

There's a new threat, but your old friends are close by. Who knows what happens after...

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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Like a faded picture that has been imprisoned in the depths of a drawer for decades, the vision is projected as faintly on the canvases of your eyelids. As if it were just a vision born on the plastic soil of a dream, nothing else, the memory that takes shape in your head seems so unbelievable. This horrible place has been holding you in its embrace hot with the stench of death for so long, that the images left from the real world seem to your brain like the remnants of a life that never existed. However, you're sure that the melodious children's laughter ringing in your ears is real, and you know that it belongs to someone who was once important to you. In this friendly fantasy world, there is no decay and no blood, only the inviting rays of the sun, which guide you to the surface with warm fingers, as you frolic under the cool foams, mimicking a mermaid. You paddle nimbly with your little hands as the princess of the secret underwater realm, and each tiny shell and grain of sand greets you as a subject of your kingdom as you swim above them. And when someone pulls you out of your adventure and lifts you back into the air, warm from the summer heat, you sulk and argue, trying to get free, but whoever the stranger is, they only respond with amused laughter. And your heart almost sinks at the fact that only blurred spots dance in front of your eyes when you look up at the figure who kisses the top of your little head and hugs you so tenderly. Because you know you should know her, but nothing breaks through the darkness in your skull apart from the feeling of loss that gnaws at your insides.

Although for a moment you don't understand why your own mind is turning against you, but even your frozen shock is penetrated by a faint recognition, that there is a reason why this is exactly the memory that arose in you after the many horrors you experienced. And it seems a very cruel trick from your subconscious that now, when an unknown force drags you deeper and deeper toward the bottomless pits of the icy water, it calls up this exact one out of the many mementos slowly fading to nothingness. Because you know that now the sun-tanned hand won't rush to your aid to save you from the frosty, otherworldly empire that is drawing you closer and closer to its gate made of torn bodies with each passing second.

And as if you just woke up from an unwanted slumber, you realize that no matter how much you want to linger on the soft lap of soothing reminders of the past, and no matter how much all your instincts protest against letting the false security of the images dancing on your eyelids slip away, you have other things to do. Oh, how easy it would be to let it end like this, rocking in the heavy arms of the cool water, finally die without rough hands trying to bask in the warmth of your still living organs. But you have work to do. And this ultimately breaks your body out of the shock injected into you by the unknown attacker, which pulled you under the surface, heavy with rot and death.

As soon as your resolve finally pushes you back from the temptation of the soft, shapeless drifting of unconsciousness, the shortness of breath tightening your chest reaches your senses, and your mouth opens in a desperate gasp before you can stop the reflexive movement. And as the cold water breaks through your lips and you feel the musty taste of mud on your tongue, your jaw snaps shut with such alarmed speed that you swear that you feel your teeth cracking. However, a stray sip of water that has gone astray still finds its way into your trachea, and as it pushes along the soft tissues like a thousand tiny blades, you would instinctively start to cough, but you're only able to ease the pressure of a force squeezing your ribs for a few pathetic seconds.

Your eyes open in fear, and you can see the taunting invitation of the moon's pale light even through the sting of the water blurring your vision, and you can almost feel how mockingly the silvery beams laugh at your torment. And as you become aware of with what frightening certainty the last faintly twinkling trace of the starry sky starts to disappear, your brain catches up with the facts, and even through the lack of oxygen, you understand painfully fast that the fragile thread of your life will soon come to a pitiful end and break under the cruel weight of the waves gathering above you. And because of this, your body, for the umpteenth time during the night, surges you towards action, and as the cocktail of stress hormones in your veins revives, you try to propel yourself upwards with almost instinctive movements. But no matter how you paddle with your hands, just as your legs would also join in the frantic work, the alien creature wrapped around your ankle tightens its grip even more, and the suppressed scream that is born in your lungs only echoes in your skull, when you feel how cruelly its spikes drill into your bruised flesh. You can sense, quite horrified, how the poison, similar to liquid fire, creeps through the boundary of the skin and muscles pulsing with agony. And you know that whatever this formless beast tries to inject into your body, soon it will help tip you back into oblivion so that you allow yourself to be driven into the predator's waiting claws with a willing daze.

Your hands rush towards the wretched monster holding your feet captive, and even you're surprised when you grab hold of the sleek extensions of a seaweed-like plant. And even though the army of thorns rising from the slippery tissue cut into your palm, you don't care about how the suffering radiates through your arm like a lightning strike, instead, gritting your teeth, you try to loosen your shackles, because it's only a matter of time before your luck runs out and you're back in that goddamn car again. Crimson drops of blood emerge like snakes from under the wounded skin, and the more fiercely you fight with the cursed seaweed, the cerise fluid surrounds you like a vague mist, casting your figure, wild from the fury of the struggle, into the midst of blood-red clouds.

All your nerves are occupied by the heat of your battle, because you feel it all too well how the merciless iron fist around your chest is closing, as if someone had thrown you into a press, and the metal plates weighing on you were trying to slowly drive your ribs into the living flesh. And you would swear that even through the gurgle of liquid against your eardrums, you can hear the horrible, almost insidious snapping of the hair-thin cracks running down your bones, as if a heavy boot were treading on freshly fallen branches.

But even through your despair, it occurs to you how strange it is that the crackles travel into your ears through the roar of the water so clearly, even though you know that nothing but the sound of bubbles could penetrate the chaos created by your panic. And when you catch a pale spot moving from the corner of your eye, like an uncertain vision dancing on the edge of your consciousness, you stop chasing your release for a minute. First, through the hazy clouds cast by your blood, you see a broken form unfolding, looking more like the dried remains of a wind-twisted and battered tree than anything else. However, when the tormented figure seems to be approaching, and the scarlet veil finally fades due to your immobility, then the shock cuts through even the tension of air that is stuck in your throat. Because your brain, fighting with hypoxia, understands that the creature is swimming closer to you with measured laziness, which may have previously feasted on the disintegrating corpses washed to the surface.

A pair of milky white eyes take shape from the dark, endless void with an almost otherworldly light, and the hunger looming in them paints the mouth so dreadful, which stretches into an impossibly wide snarl with cruel joy when it discovers in you its prey frozen in fear. As if the corners of its mouth were trying to get around the elongated head, splitting the dry, ashy skin on its skull like grotesque cuts. Yet, your eyes are immediately drawn to the pale gums and the sharp teeth protruding from them, stained a dirty brown by the rotting pieces of meat sitting on them. And as the twisted, thin body floats closer, a series of dim, tormented blots appear behind it, like an army of faithful shadows, which absorb the rays of moonlight piercing the water, bringing an ominous night to the desolate realm of the lake.

And it doesn't take much time, just a mere fleeting second, and you become sure that you have to flee, because these horrible devilish beings will clean the pliant network of muscles and tendons from your bones before suffocation has a chance to push you into the saving ignorance of unconsciousness. That's why the fierceness of survival awakens in you anew, and even you yourself can't believe the power that terror stirs in you, when you almost tear the tentacles of the stubborn seaweed from you, and the adrenaline that settles on your nerves doesn't allow the pain caused by the attack of the thorns stabbing into your palm to reach you. And if you'd have time, you would burst into tears of joy when the damned plant finally releases your ankle, but you have no time to be relieved, because you see the cautious advance of the distorted beasts squirming in the corner of your eyes, and you can feel the small waves on your skin that their excitedly grinding teeth create.

You're almost desperately try to swim towards the surface, and although the force of the pressure gnawing at your insides increases with each hasty movement, and small black spots slowly crawl into your field of vision, you don't care about the agony that crushes the soft tissues of your internal organs. When your hand finally breaks through the mirror-smooth border of the lake's surface for the first time, and your fingers are caressed by the prickle of the cold night air, then all the suffering that has tried to push you into the silky lap of another death disappears. And perhaps you've never been so happy to see the moon sprawled out like a divine being in the middle of this imaginary world, and you're not at all bothered by the sardonic glee with which its sparkling, silvery gaze follows how you begin to swallow the life-giving oxygen like a pitiful fish on dry land. Although you forcefully cough out the remnants of the water that have strayed into your airways, as soon as the first sip of air fills your chest aching with burning stinging, and the specks squirming in front of your eyes vanish, you have the strength to focus on the way out. And you know that you don't have time to hesitate any longer, because you can see the moving outline of the unknown monsters gathering below you.

You run your gaze along the landscape shrouded in dreadful stillness, and you feel your stomach flutter with gratitude when you discover how seductively close the line of the shallow shore stretches behind you. You only wildly hope that you're able to outrun these horrible creatures, as you put each of your tired limbs to work and start swimming without any delay, because it only takes one of these awful beings to catch you, and your remains will be reduced to tiny crumbs of bones and viscera. And despite the fact that you've met your end countless times, you know that each of your deaths would pale in comparison to being torn to pieces alive by these infernal abominations. Perhaps this is the motivation that breaks through the last barrier in your consciousness and helps to get your body to move with an unprecedented urgency, and this is what dulls the ear-splitting scream-like noise of the frenzy unfolding behind you.

The few minutes seem like millennia until you finally reach the swampy ground, and you stumble to your feet, yanking your shoes from the mud's stubborn grip with an angry cry as you clumsily drag yourself ashore. And as you finally make it to the edge of the wet sand, you drop to your knees, panting, allowing yourself a few meager seconds to rest before you're forced to run again from the evils that stalk you. Because you’re sure that whatever the tentacled creature was, it's still lurking in the depths of the abyss, and the two murderers can also be breathing down your neck thanks to the terrible sidequest you've fallen into. Almost instinctively, your hand sinks into the pocket of the soaked pants, and when you find the disconcertingly untouched map, you feel a heavy weight lift off your heart. All you have to do is to lie low a bit, and then calmly set off to look for the next clue, which can finally get you out of this ever-deepening madness.

But when that bone-shaking scream blasts into the silence of the night once again, you wince reflexively, like a startled animal that has finally realized that the predator will soon wrap its foul-smelling jaws around its neck. And although by now you should have gotten used to the fact that this goddamn place always lulls you into a mirage-like illusion of tranquility with the promise of a moment of ease, only to avenge its mercy all the more cruelly, yet now fear claws into your insides with the same force as if you were experiencing the terrors of this nightmare for the first time. Because when you glance back, you see the cloudy eyes break through from under the velvety, rippling veil of the water, like faintly looming ghosts that were vomited out by the mouth of the lake opening to the other world, to drag you with them into the pits of insatiable hell. One of the gruesome figures emerges from the waves rocking like liquid obsidian, and its sickly thin body straightens amid gut-wrenching crackles, as if every single bone would slide into place on top of another, crumbling under the withered tissue. But even though the beast looks ungainly, when its mouth full of sharp teeth opens and that high-pitched, whistle-like screech rushes out of it, you clamp your hands to your ears to try to dull the pain of the head-splitting sound, and with the pain piercing your eardrums, you realize that if you don't get away now, then those teeth will be painted ruby by your intestines next time.

However, before you can even move, the howling stops, and it takes a few moments for your mind to register what is happening. And when you discover that pair of glowing red eyes appear behind the enraged army of monsters, you wish these bastards would rip you apart alive, because maybe that would be a more pleasant death than what those smoldering irises have in store for you. Because there is such a hungry temper dancing in them that settles into the aggressive movement with which the stranger takes hold of the head of the menacing water creature about to attack, lifting it up into the air. His huge palm swallows its face green from algae, and the way his strong hand clenches around the abomination's skull seems almost pitifully simple, as if the wretch would be nothing more than a worm to be trampled upon. And you feel how your insides convulse with nausea when the stomach-turning crunch, with which the bones shatter into pieces, reaches your ear canals, and you desperately try to swallow back the bitter bile pooling in your mouth, as, after a wet splash, you see the soft, pink flesh spilling out between the hooded monster's long fingers.

It seems that this makes the other grotesque entities understand that something more terrifying than them has arrived, and they swim back to the protective shelter of the lake with such ready submission, as if they were trying to hide from the sight of their angry king, before he would erupt into a frightening rage. Through the dread slowly bubbling under your skin, you realize that maybe this man really is their ruler, since the horde of malformed forces living in the water turned against you after he first surfaced behind the sea of mutilated bodies. And perhaps there is some woefully obvious logic in this, since the game wouldn't have allowed this new location to appear if there hadn't been an even more horrible surprise waiting for you in it. When the last of his terrified subjects finally disappears, the giant starts towards you with lazy steps, and with each passing meter it becomes more and more noticeable, how the hard muscles weave through every terrible corner of his tall figure, and suddenly it becomes painfully clear to you that even the bloodthirsty shadows skulking in the forest would offer greater safety if you threw yourself into the arms of formless darkness now.

You try to get up shaking, because you understand that you're just hanging another death flag on your forehead with your hesitation, but as soon as you put weight on your wounded leg, a bitter pain shoots into your ankle, as if someone were trying to twist your foot around its axis with their bare hands, and from the stars dancing before your eyes, you helplessly let your knees buckle and help you fall back into the mud with a dull thud. And even though you try to relieve the persistent throbbing of the white-hot pain with the air inhaled through your nose, by the time your head clears enough to be able to get yourself to move, your body, trembling with agony, is already swallowed up by the all-consuming shadow of the man towering over you, and you know that you’re done for. You don't have to turn around to know that the hooded monster has finally stalked you down, because you can see the black blanket with which his large figure covers the ground decorated with small stones and plants washed up on the shore.

You don't even dare to move for a little bit, and you feel ridiculously stupid for offering yourself on a silver platter with your person immobilized by terror. As if you were willingly present your chest to him so that he can tear out your scared, beating heart, but you can't even twitch, because, with the pounding of your pulse in your ears, the fear spreads through every inch of your body, pushing every muscle fiber into paralyzed helplessness. And you feel how the blood freezes in your veins, when a terribly sweet scent snakes its way into your nose, like the smell of the juices of rotten fruit left under the rays of the summer sun, which at the same time enters your head and covers the frightened upheaval in your skull under some inexplicable hazy fog, and tightens your stomach in a death-tight grip. Although this strange smell brings you closer to dizziness, even in the confused daze that descends upon you, you can perfectly detect when an unknown creature glides onto your shoulder with a damp springiness, then slowly slithers its way up the graceful line of your neck like a curious leech. You're unable to restrain the reflexive movement that makes you cringe in alarm under the curious touch of the uninvited guest, and even though every fiber of your body turns to stone, you raise your eyes to the intruder despite the anxiety gathering in the pit of your stomach. And when you discover the pitch-black tentacle shining with a velvety light, and the purple suckers lined up on them, which breathe unsolicited kisses to the valley of your cleavage, you yelp and charge forward to try to crawl away from the monster with such panicked clumsiness, like a wounded wild animal trying to escape from the wolf with its last breath.

However, no matter how hard you try to break free, the fear raging in your body only leads to an uncoordinated shuffling, and you fall to your stomach on the fish-smelling ground, hissing from the ache that rips through your ankle. Your mouth fills with tiny grains of wet sand, but you don't mind the sour taste on your tongue, because it penetrates your terror much more clearly when you feel the searing heat of another body behind you, seeping through the thin material of your soaked t-shirt like a contagious disease. And you know that the end of the night has arrived, because when you see a giant hand sinking into the mud next to your head, you recognize, along with the horrible delusions flooding into your mind, that you already lost your chance of survival when you waded into that damn lake.

And the newcomer doesn't leave you a moment to recover from your shock, because you just got rid of the intrusion of the sticky organ, you feel the tentacle breaking under the battered fabric of your top, and you can't stop the terrified tremor that moves into your limbs in time, when the probing caress of the feelers passes through the tense arch of your spine. The tenderness with which he traces the small valley between your shoulder blades is almost stomach-churning, because you're aware that with one careless movement, he could unfurl the row of vertebrae from under your skin like fresh peas from their shell. And you know that he only wants to lull your vigilance with the fleeting gentleness with which the appendage moves towards the line of your ribs to try to migrate to your chest, like a lover who wants to explore the lush curves of his beloved's body. And your brain, stuck in the fear of death, is relieved a little when the sleek arm finds an obstacle in the moldy ground, but the small joy that takes hold in you is pitifully short-lived, because your attacker only grabs your hips with a frustrated grunt and pulls you up with such light carelessness, which you wouldn't be able to fight even if the horrors of the night didn't weigh on your every cell like a leaden blanket. And as his fingers sink into the soft flesh, you feel that following the touch of restrained power, the mark of his hand will soon be ingrained into you with a purple color.

Still, you’re much more horrified, and goosebumps run over every defenseless inch of your body, as the clammy limb reaches your bra on its path, and a startled squeak gets stuck behind your quivering lips that is elicited from you by the attack of the slimy organ burrowing under the soft material. You don't dare tear your eyes away from the pebble shining with a dull light, which rises orphaned from a small sand dune in front of you, because you're terrified that if you follow how the monster takes what your vulnerable body offers to him unwillingly, you will sink even deeper in the muddy swamp of terror. Yet every nerve ending in you is sharpened when you feel the cold, slick flesh sliding against the soft mound of your breast. And there is something repulsively intimate about how one of the suckers latches onto your nipple with an almost insatiable hunger, as if this monster wasn't holding you in the trap of his strong body for the first time. As if he's got his hand on a delicacy, the nectar of which he has tasted at some point, and now the longing for the tantalizing aroma on his tongue would drive him forward. But your brain cannot understand why this absurd thought awakens in you, because it's unable to focus on anything other than the involuntary shiver that runs along your spine when it sucks the sensitive skin that has become its prey with an almost playful lewdness. And this small act is enough for the miserable moan, that has been crawling up your throat on foul feet until now, to finally break through your mouth.

And as if this one sound would feed the horrible man's unquenchable greed, for you shudder in horror, as another tentacle wanders over the nervously heaving line of your belly with slow laziness, and for a terrible moment it just flirtatiously skims along the waistline of your pants. But his patience doesn't last long, because he pushes under your jeans with an almost violent want, and you don't even have time to react, the limb sinks under the damp material of your panties with such insidious speed. Your consciousness can't keep up with the siege on your body, but it still fills you with agony as the lush flame of desire flares up in your stomach, as one of the suckers closes around your clit. And the muddled whine that creeps up your trachea is unfamiliar even to your own ears, when the wet pressure increases around the sensitive bundle of nerves, because you would rather bite your own tongue in shame, but the shock that rolls over you is too strong to resist the pull of the sensation.

But when you feel the feeler gliding between the silky petals and almost curiously circling the entrance of your pussy throbbing with scorching heat, then the fire of protest rekindles in you, and you set your hands on the damp ground to brace yourself against the beast. But even though your unexpected opposition gives you momentum, it feels like you hit a concrete wall, the man's chest swelling with hard muscles press against your back with such unshakable confidence, and you become aware painfully soon what kind of fun you've made him have, when the hardness that bulges in his crotch pushes against your bottom. And he, perhaps mistakenly, perhaps on purpose, sees your pathetic attempt as an invitation, and the deep, throaty groan rings in your ears, with which he thrusts his cock against you with impatient fervor, like a damned animal ready to mate. And as his huge hand clamp down on your hips with an almost vise-like force, even the stray idea of escape suddenly seems like a ridiculously far-fetched dream, because his fingers will crush all your fragile bones to dust before letting you get lost into the night. But even though the icy poison of dread sneaks into your every brain cell, you know you have to take flight, since the goal hasn't changed. You have to survive. And if you stay here, you voluntarily count down the minutes until the moment of your death, which, no matter what sweet torment the game promises, you know it's coming.

And as if he would sense that he cannot drive away the stillborn idea of resistance from you with his insidious tactics, that hurtful, syrupy smell appears again, which fills your nose with such a vicious intrusion that you have no chance to understand what is happening, because as soon as the dark fog spreads over your brain, the burning tingle that sends liquid flames into your core saturates every inch of you. An almost drunken intoxication settles on you, and it's only a dull fear in the back of your mind that he might be using some kind of pheromones to deter you from running away, but even though you recognize the diabolical method with which he traps you, you're no longer able to pull yourself together. The desperate demand of lust stirs up in you too strongly, and suddenly it doesn't seem alarming at all, as the tip of the tentacle that ventured into your underwear teasingly slips into your wet heat just for a moment. And you don't even have enough common sense to understand how terribly pitiful it is that you willingly squeeze your trembling body against the stranger like a bitch in heat.

And if the hooded man didn't suddenly freeze over you, you wouldn't even notice what was happening around you, because his presence settles on every single one of your senses, as if someone would drip hot wax on you, slowly closing you in an impenetrable shell, condemning you to eternal lustful suffering. But as vehemently as he started, your attacker ends his torturous game as abruptly, and as the impenetrable veil of the treacly essence in your head is inexplicably replaced by the metallic smell of blood, then your consciousness is able to clear. And although it takes a few excruciating moments before your brain is finally capable of receiving the stimuli from the outside world, then you can hear quite well the pain-filled, enraged groan that breaks out of the monster's mouth, as a large knife lands in the sand with a dull thud a few short seconds later.

And there is nothing tender about the way the long appendages terrorizing you disappear and one hand smoothes on your back to pin you down to the ground, almost ramming you into the cold embrace of the wet soil, and for a moment the air is forced from your lungs, as his huge palm spreads between your shoulder blades with warning roughness. And you understand the silent instruction even without words, and the revived stabbing of fear escaping into your limbs helps to force you into corpse-like immobility. And that's when you hear the soft crunch of the autumn leaves, as something treads through them to sneak cautiously closer to you in the distance. Your frightened gaze is immediately fixed on the trees rising beyond the shore, but for a tense second, you see nothing but darkness shrouded in eerie silence. However, the man notices what you don't, and his robust figure towers over you so possessively, like a rabid animal protecting its prey, and you don't even feel like more than a piece of meat, which the cruel world of the game has turned into such an irresistible reward.

"Get the fuck back into the lake, König!" A deep voice breaks through the heavy quietness of the forest, and you would recognize Johnny's hoarse baritone out of a thousand, because you have been lucky enough to taste the danger of its deceptive bloodlust too many times. But now, as the outline of his body unfolds from under the black veil of shadows among the vegetation, you recognize the murderous anger, the icy tension of which sits in the line of his broad shoulders. And although you only see a distant figure moving out of the corner of your eye, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach immediately tells you that Simon is the one who stalks through the tangle of wild bushes like a big cat about to pounce. "She's ours."

And you can feel on your back how that angry voice resonates through the chest of the beast holding you down, with which he finally responds to the appearance of the uninvited visitors. And for a minute that seems like an eternity, nothing happens, and being stuck in this horrible anticipation, the panic awakens in you, which makes your brain finally able to form meaningful thoughts, and you can spot that tiny little detail that has been resting in front of your nose until now so happily. Because the man's hand is still resting in front of you, digging into the mud, and when you see the row of red beads adorning the thick wrist, the spark of recognition lights up in your head. After all, this terrible place doesn't place anything unnecessarily, and the crimson glimmer that brings the bracelet to life under the silvery rays of the moonlight cannot be a mere coincidence. This is a clue, and perhaps this whole horrible torture has prepared this moment. And you feel in your gut that you have to get it.

Therefore, taking advantage of the fact that the hooded creature is centering all its attention on the enemy hiding in the thick of the trees, one of your hands moves with cautious slowness to crawl toward the jewel, and every single one of your senses is keenly focusing to see when will the creature above you, who is becoming more and more furious, notice what you’re preparing in such great secrecy. And as your fingers get caught in the thin cord of the precious object, you look up in terror at the behemoth above you, and the pounding of your heart in your ears quiets down slightly when you see how unceasingly it scans the emptiness behind the thick trunks. And you only see it in your periphery, as something with a metallic glint shoots out from the infinity of the forest, and that's enough for the tentacles lurking above you to act on their own, wild with rage, certainly working to save their owner from an attack intended to be fatal. However, this one act unleashes all hell, because the monster suddenly loses its patience and launches forward with an aggressive roar like a demonic beast thirsty for blood, and he doesn't even notice how the bracelet is torn off him as he pushes forward toward his opponents who are hiding behind the vegetation.

And you know that you have no time to waste, because it's only a matter of time before the bloodshed unfolds and you become an unwilling participant, from which there will be no way out, only certain death and another miserable awakening in the back seat of the car. So, forcing the will into your limbs, you push yourself up onto your knees, and a series of dark spots swim into your vision, as a knife-like pain shoots into your ankle even from this harmless movement. But you swallow the scream that is about to escape your lips, because if you draw the attention of these scumbags to you now, all your chances of escape will be gone. That's why, overcoming the throbbing ache, you reach towards the pearls scattered in the sand, and as you collect the ruby spheres in your palm, they glow up in red, leaving behind a cool tingling sensation. The smoldering light travels along your arm, and as if guided by an invisible force, reaches your tortured leg, and you watch in amazement as the bruises drawn by the violence disappear from the skin in the wake of the faint glow. It takes a second for you to realize what has happened, and when you notice the sounds of the fight unfolding in the forest, you hastily put your treasure in the safety of your pocket. You'll have time to wonder what the hell is going on when you finally manage to disappear from your pursuers again.

That's why you just spring up nimbly and head towards the multitude of trees, hoping that the battle, drowned in increasingly violent shouts, will drag on long enough for them to lose track of you. Because the night is still long, and you're quite sure that no matter where your path leads, more horrors will be waiting for you, because this damned place will do everything to lock you in the glass cage of its fictional world. But with the map and the pearls in your pocket, the hope, that you might live to see the dawn and you get out of here, finally rekindles in you.

[restwellsoon]

Nothing in Particular | 2 - Commitment, or Lack Thereof

Pairing: Omota Uramichi x F!Reader

Summary: A series of unexpected encounters and misunderstandings causes you to fill a large and gaping hole in Uramichi’s life.

Minors and blank blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

With the director calling an end to the final scene, the kids surrounded Uramichi and the mascots, not wanting the day to be over just yet. Taking advantage of their commotion, you thought it’d be best to make things less awkward by leaving then, but it was such a shame that you had to go. A guy that’s good with kids was totally your type.

With one of the kids still latching onto his leg, Usahara ribbed Uramichi. “Hey! I didn't expect you to be that hurt about not getting invited to the gokon. Usually you decline, so I didn’t bother, but y’know, you’ll always be my best wingman after Kumatani.”

“What a silly rabbit!” Uramichi commented, finally deciding that the best way to get the child off him was to gently shake them off. The kid only squeezed his leg harder, thinking they were playing around. Uramichi smiled through his frustration.

“He thinks he can date like a grown up!” The child made a face at the word ‘date.’ “Aren’t you only five, Usao-kun? I think it’s best to stay care-free and innocent for as long as possible. Before you know it, your parents will be badgering you non-stop about why you can’t keep a steady girlfriend or why they aren’t grandparents yet!”

Aw, shit. Usahara forgot that he was still in the mascot outfit. “Right, hippity-hop!” He said, going back to that high-pitched voice that made his throat hurt. “Oniisan knows best!”��

To make the kids forget about how he broke character, he ushered them towards the exit with the promise of stickers, glancing back to see that Uramichi approved of his method of saving face.

Searching back towards the cameras, Uramichi saw that you were already gone. This was probably his only chance to talk to you. 

–

As luck would have it, he didn’t run into you on the way to his dressing room, and with all of the noise he heard from Utano’s, he didn’t dare to go there either.

He followed his usual routine of changing into his street clothes and smoking a cig before heading home. The only thing unusual was the knock on his door. It definitely wasn’t Iketeru or Usahara. It’s probably one of the assistant directors, he thought. Quickly, he pulled down his shirt as he waited for someone to burst in with some ridiculous demand. At this point, he was used to working overtime for some bullshit reason. 

Instead Uramichi was met with silence.

Well, whatever it was, wasn’t that important then. It was odd but not odd enough for him to dwell on it.

Smokes in hand, he resolved to ask Utano for your number the next time they were together in private. In his mind, it was efficient. He wouldn’t have to bug her on their day off, and he’d get the immediate pay off of finally having a way to contact you.

“Oh!” A voice squeaked as he opened the door. “Um, uh–hi!”

In his shock, Uramichi dropped his lighter, and the two of you nearly brushed hands while picking it up. He tucked it in his back pocket.

“Hey,” he said back. Did his thoughts cause you to manifest at his door? No, no, no. He was being irrational. Obviously you were the one who knocked earlier.

When you snuck out of Utano’s dressing room, you decided to be straightforward with Uramichi instead of bullshitting around, making things awkward and dragged out. But with each minute that passed after knocking, your resolve shrunk. You had waited patiently to be called in, but there was only silence. You weren’t sure if you’d seem too desperate if you knocked again. Maybe he had already left.

“Uh, I know it’s scripted but your speech to the kids was inspiring,” you started off. You thought back to work. People usually were more receptive to things if you complimented them first.

Uramichi was grateful that you didn’t know the inner workings of MHK. The amount of money they spent in post-prod to edit out some of his ramblings was absurd. 

“It even got through to a grown up like me,” you chuckled nervously.

You had to admit that up close, he’d lost that TV glow aura. His eyes weren’t shining, mouth drawn into a neutral line. Right. It must be exhausting to keep up that overly cheerful and enthusiastic persona. You shouldn’t drag this out longer than necessary.

Clearing your throat, you got to the point. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. Maybe we could meet up soon and talk?”

When was the last time Uramichi talked to someone outside of work or in a situation that wasn’t transactional? Maybe a week ago… when you two were talking late at night. Oh.

The sound of Utano calling out your name made both of you turn.

His lack of reaction was nerve racking. Nonetheless, you continued on even if it led to your embarrassment. He was right. You had to take accountability for your actions. Pulling out your phone, you asked for his number. And in shock, he gave it to you.

“Saved!” You told him with a smile and a wave. “I’ll text you soon to arrange everything.”

–

The rest of Uramichi’s evening was spent in a daze. He kept forgetting what rep he was on at the gym, doubling the amount of exercise he normally did. Thinking the sauna would help him gather his thoughts, he spent extra time there too–a bad idea; he kept repeating this afternoon in his head while sweating like crazy.

The result of his daze was an exceptionally good pump and glowing skin. Women, men, and even babies stared as he left the gym. It was a rare occurrence to see someone that was TV-star handsome walking down the street.

“What a hottie,” someone whispered to their friend as they walked past him. He had his ear buds in though, so he was oblivious.

“A shame though,” their friend said, “Just look at those eyes! It’s not fair that someone who’s so obviously dead inside can have such refreshing skin.”

You said that you’d text him soon, but what exactly did you mean? Soon, as in today? Well, you were supposed to get dinner with Utano. Maybe you meant after that. But ‘soon’ was such a vague concept. He recalled all the times he had told others that he’d love to catch up soon or talk to them soon. They were all lies to get them off his back. ‘Soon’ wasn’t just in a few days, a few weeks, or even months. Usually adults used the word ‘soon’ as a euphemism for ‘never’!

Was that what you were doing with him? Then why go through all the trouble?

His thoughts took him to the entrance of Cat Kick. Well, he usually grabbed a beer before heading to bed anyway. Besides, he didn’t really mind Nekota’s company either. Maybe hanging out at the bar could distract him.

“Your aura seems especially glowing today,” Nekota beamed at him while drying a glass. “Something good happen today at work?

Pulling up in a seat near the middle, Uramichi deadpanned, “Absolutely not.”

Luckily Nekota had already set down the glass. He might have dropped it in shock otherwise. “Is–is that so? Well, if you’d like to tell me, I’m willing to listen. It only took me two divorces, but I finally understand what my ex-wives meant.” Uramichi already felt as if he couldn’t relate to the bartender. “It feels good to be heard!”

Not the type to kiss and tell, Uramichi chose to keep the situation as vague as possible. “I got involved with someone, and it’s… concerning.”

Oh, this was good. Concerning, huh? Nekota leaned over the counter to hear better. Who was this mysterious person?

“I’m waiting for further instructions, but I haven’t heard anything yet. Their timeline was vague, and I have no way of contacting them directly. I guess I’m having a difficult time because I’m anticipating the worst.”

Nekota couldn’t imagine Uramichi being involved with any suspicious crowds. From what Usahara and Kumatani told him, Uramichi was pretty straight-laced during college and at work. He wondered what could have changed. It was always the ones you least expected, he thought, shaking his head. If anything, he thought it was more likely that Usahara or Kikaku would be involved in something sketchy.

Used to the weird looks that Nekota gave him, Uramichi decided that it’d be best not to ask what he was thinking. “You were right,” he told him, admitting that it felt good to confide in someone.

Ding!

He perked up as his phone notified him of a new message, eyes impatiently reading what he’d been waiting for all day.

Your text read like some HR-approved abomination. 

Good evening, Mr. Omota, I’d like to schedule a meeting between us to discuss what happened that night after the konbini. Please let me know what your availability is, though I would prefer to meet at your earliest convenience. My schedule is flexible. Thank you and good night

You even signed your text with your full name.

“Everything okay?” Nekota asked.

Uramichi was sweating, looking more flushed than usual when he drank, with a very concerning look on his face. He downed half of his beer and set his phone down. 

“I thought I wanted to be contacted immediately, but now that I’ve received their message, I don’t know how to respond.” There were no emojis, no stickers, no gifs, just very formal and polite language. The complete opposite of how you were in person. “How do you understand tone through text?”

Nekota shrugged. “Sometimes you just need to know the person.” 

Uramichi gave him a look. It was the same look Nekota’s ex-wives used to give him, that look that said ‘You useless fucking bastard!’

“Buuuut if you’re not that close, how about you establish your own tone? Then they can clarify or agree with you from there! For example, sometimes my ex-wives will text me, asking when they’ll get their alimony checks. No emojis, no stickers, nothing! So to set the tone, I text them something like this.”

Uramichi shouldn’t have made the mistake of looking at Nekota’s screen. The text thread he showed as an example was embarrassing.

Ex-wifey #1: You haven’t paid us this month. Ex-wifey#2: Yeah, you’re late again.

“See, you can’t tell if they’re mad or stating facts, right?” He didn’t give Uramichi time to ask why it couldn’t be both. “Well, since I wasn’t able to tell what kind of mood they were in, I tried to set up a positive vibe between us.”

Nekota: Yeah, I’m not paying for alimony this month ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

“See, this expression shows that I’m wincing in pain, an apology of sorts, and showing my remorse. The heart means I’m asking for their forgiveness and grace.”

Unsure of how to respond, Uramichi could only give him a baffled ‘huh.’ Nekota failed to address their responses after–bastard, loser, deadbeat.

“Well, thanks for the advice and listening,” he told him, pushing his paid off bill to Nekota. “I’m gonna head out for the night. Gotta figure out what to say.”

–

Dinner with Utano seemed more like an inquisition. Now out of an environment where her co-workers could eavesdrop, she grilled you on what happened after she left last week.

“I just kissed him. That’s all!”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Because I wanted to!” You said, exasperated. The woman could be persistent when it came to matters of the heart outside of marriage. “Maybe I wanted to do something reckless to feel alive? He’s good-looking and nice and the mood was just right,” you gestured wildly, “I don’t know!”

Apparently that was an acceptable answer.

Her eyes darkened as her voice lowered, looks solemn as she spoke. “I’m just concerned that you don’t realize who you’re messing around with.”

“Is he scary?” You asked in all seriousness. He didn’t give that vibe at all, but you were known to have been deceived by men too many times in the past.

Utano tried to think of the proper word to describe Uramichi. He wasn’t scary, but just… dark? Jaded? They felt close to what she was trying to say but not quite. Unable to think of the word, she just answered with a simple no.

“He can be… a little intense.”

You sighed, “Is that so? Intense like…?” You mentioned that guy you went on two dates with a few years back. Utano shook her head no. You gave her another example of some weirdo you casually dated. Again, it was a no.

“Then what’s the fuss about? I’m gonna text him when I get home so we can move on.”

–

You were sweating, realizing how fucking stupid you sounded. You were forced to live with your foolishness because Uramichi had that utterly diabolic feature that showed when he read your text. He apparently read it immediately after you sent it, and it’d been nearly two hours since without a response. It was difficult fighting the urge to check your phone every ten minutes, so you gave in, somehow embarrassing yourself further with each peek at the one-sided text thread.

Ding!

Nearly throwing your phone across the room, you weren’t sure if you were relieved or afraid about him finally responding.

Hi, I usually get off work around 4 - 5 pm most days. My next day off isn’t until Sunday though, and I already have plans. Is tomorrow too soon? I can text you when I get off work 〃◉ᴗ◉〃

Agonizing over what emoji to send, he settled on that one, hoping that Nekota’s advice would work, as shitty as it was.

Wow, you text very cutely. As expected of a taiso no oniisan. I’ll be waiting for your text then. Good night.

–

“No, it’s actually not fine. I have an appointment after work,” Uramichi said for the sixth time in a row. He was getting dragged into another task unrelated to his own again.

Left alone in the merchandising department’s office, he texted you that he had to work overtime today.

And he used that same excuse for the rest of the week.

Here he was telling the kids about taking responsibility for their actions and yet he couldn’t even maintain a small commitment to meet up with you! What an utterly despicable oniisan he was.

And it was at that moment that he remembered the lesson that Iketeru and Utano were teaching the kids through song: If you break a commitment, that’s called being flakey.That yes for next time might just turn into a maybe~

Uramichi sighed, deciding that it’d be best to meet up with you on Sunday.

“It’s weird, right?” Usahara whispered to Kumatani and Iketeru. “Dude’s been on his phone so much lately, but everyone he talks to is here?”

“Is it that difficult to imagine me having a life outside of work?” Uramichi asked, approaching them.

Everyone looked away. What normally would have resulted in anger was postponed as a beep from his phone caught his attention. He turned away from them to read it.

I’m free anytime after 3. Let’s meet at the tea place near OK Market.

–

Good afternoon ☼ ◉‿◉ I’m about to leave, and I’ll text you once I’m there! Ok

You were so used to Uramichi’s cute style of texting that you had to fight back the visceral reaction to communicating with him in-person. His voice sounded smoother than you remembered and there was something pleasant about listening to his even tone as he greeted you from inside the store.

“Order whatever you want,” you told him as you queued up in line. “It’s on me.”

Settling into a secluded corner, you both relished the brief respite you got from the heat and humidity. Naturally both of you ordered something iced to beat the weather.

“How was work?” You asked him, then took a quick sip of your drink after. “It seems like you’re in a busy season, huh?”

It’d been so long since someone asked Uramichi how work was. Was his niece the last one who asked when he visited his sister’s family a few months ago? Everyone he hung out with already knew how work was because he worked with them. How depressing.

“Sort of,” he said vaguely. “I can’t complain though.” More like he didn’t want to complain too much and bore you.

“Aw, it’s fine if you do want to complain though,” you reassured him, “after all…”

After all, what? After all, you kissed him and he might have hated it? After all, you kissed him and he wanted you to take responsibility by publicly apologizing to him? Your head spun as you realized how weird you sounded.

“After all,” you cleared your throat, “I was the one who asked you about work in the first place.”

“It’s fine,” Uramichi quickly shut you down. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Luckily you chose a more quiet tea shop so there’d be limited witnesses to your humiliation. “Well, the kiss…” you fumbled, “I wanted to apologize for kissing you. I was having a good time while we were drinking–which is no excuse by the way–and I thought you were funny and cute and–ugh, what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry if you hated it and were disgusted by my behavior. I’ll take responsibility by doing whatever it takes to make it right with you.”

Daring to look back at Uramichi, the summer sun highlighted his hair in gold despite the window between them. He looked at you with amusement.

“...and what if I didn’t hate that kiss as much as you thought?”

There you went, trying to process what he had meant. Uramichi was used to see your face animated, voice fluctuating, that it was odd to see you so still and quiet.

“Then I guess I’d kiss you again,” you admitted before adding, “if you wanted to.”

It was Uramichi’s turn to be embarrassed. His plan had backfired. You looked so flustered in your apology that you didn’t seem to hear him saying that you could stop. It was the only thing he could think of to lighten the mood. He had intended it as a joke, not a serious answer. Couldn’t you hear that in his voice? …Unless you were the one that was joking? Well shit, his embarrassment turned to shame, then spiraled into depression.

“Well, I guess your silence means that you don’t want to, huh?” You laughed off the hurt of putting yourself out there and getting rejected. Did he set you up as part of your punishment?

“No,” he said, “I want to. I… just wasn’t sure if you were serious or not.”

“...oh.”

You were regretting how secluded your spot was as the reality of both your words sunk in. It was a tight little space, and all you needed to do was lean across just a little bit and… 

Finishing off your drink, you stood, fighting against the sexual tension that kept you two glued to your seats.

“I’m glad we talked things out,” you said quickly, giving him a bow. “I have to go now.”

So suddenly? “Where are you going?” he asked.

You tried to think of a quick excuse, looking outside for inspiration. A grandmother walked by with a bag full of daikon. 

“Grocery shopping!” You said until you realized how that made you look. Did you set up the meeting place for your own convenience? OK Market was right beside the tea shop. “I really wanna make curry today.”

Uramichi perked up. “Oh, me too!”

‘Me too’ as in he was going to the grocery store, or ‘me too' as in he wanted to make curry? He thought it’d be a good excuse to spend more time together until he remembered that he told you that he was busy today. Would you think that these were the big plans that he had? 

Opening your mouth, he expected the worst.

“Should we… go together then?” You shyly suggested. “We’re going to the same place anyway.”

–

Despite its name, OK Market exceeded expectations and was the premier grocery store of the neighborhood, having Japanese staples as well as a solid selection of international items. You grabbed a basket for the two of you.

Despite his agreement to go with you, Uramichi trailed behind you, as if he was reluctant to be there. You felt bad and tried to make him feel more at ease.

“So how do you like your curry, Omota?” You asked, perusing the vegetable aisle first. You had to remind yourself to get two of each veg–potatoes, onions, and carrots–since you were shopping for more than just your usual self.

“It doesn’t really matter,” he said, finally edging closer to you. 

“What?” You laughed, dropping the necessary veggies into the basket. Earlier Uramichi had taken it from you, and now it acted as a barrier between you. “I guess you’re easy to please then.”

He looked down, unable to help that he didn’t have many preferences. Would it have been better to say that he liked all versions of curry?

Giving him a glance, you realized that your words had gone over his head. You thought you were being obvious. You even strategically placed the vegetables in a way that would show off your intentions. A particularly thick carrot laid in-between two onions.

Smiling to offset your internal sigh, you said, “Katsu curry it is then!” before heading to the spice and frozen food aisles.

After his earlier response, you figured he probably didn’t have a preferred roux brand either. You liked to mix brands anyway to get a better flavor.

“Hey,” Uramichi started as you looked for any brands that might be on sale, “why don’t you call me by my name?”

Did he not like his surname? You wondered, not realizing how closely he stood behind you.

Objectively, you knew he was handsome since you met him. The sunlight hitting him at the tea shop reminded you of that fact too. Yet there was something about the look in his eyes and the way he leaned into you that made you self-conscious. Right! It was as if you were in an otome game and he was the main lead that you were struggling to win over!

Unsure of what he wanted, you asked, “Did you… want me to call you Uramichi oniisan?”

It was the only logical answer you could have come up with. Even Utano called him that! So he was probably more comfortable being called that than his last name.

Maybe he was suffering from heat stroke. There was no way his face could feel this hot this often in the summer. Did he really have to say it?

“You called me Michi before.”

His eyes reminded you of a puppy pouting. So cute! …But not cute enough to make you forget about your horrible behavior that night. 

“You can call me that if you want,” he said, “ornot. Uramichi is fine, but so is Omota.” He felt like Usahara, and he was grossing himself out. He tried to redeem himself by saying that he didn’t want to force any social closeness at all if you weren’t comfortable.

Trying to forget about the embarrassing nickname you had given him, you missed the rare occurrence of the Uramichi Omota spazzing out. All you could think about was that you didn’t want to call him anything at all.

Turning back to the boxes of curry roux, you said nonchalantly, “Okay, oniisan. You can call me by my name too.”

Realizing what you said, you dropped the box of roux in your hand, subsequently knocking down several more boxes.

“Are you okay?” Uramichi asked while using your first name. You were convinced that you were in a slice-of-life otome. How else could you explain this incredibly hot, fit, nice, and single man being interested in? You crouched down to pick up the fallen boxes, wishing you could crawl into a hole.

“I’m fine!” You said, voice chipper despite your thoughts. “While I’m picking these up, why don’t you get us a cart? There’s more sales than I thought today and I’d hate to have you carry something so heavy!”

Dutifully, Uramichi left to exchange the basket for a cart while you recovered your senses.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” A little girl whispered, tugging on her older brother’s shirt. Uramichi tried to walk past them. There’s no way they were talking about him, right?

“Stop staring, Akane!” Her sibling hissed. “That’s not the guy from that TV show you watch. It’s clearly some dude trying to make dinner with his girlfriend.” 

He pointed to the direction Uramichi was walking in as proof, unable to see that he was clearly wrong by both of your awkward posturing.

–

“You really don’t have to walk me back to my place,” you insisted, grabbing your bag of groceries from him. In the end, you were pleased that he had gone with you. You saved a decent amount of change by taking advantage of sales. No food would be wasted either! It was a win despite the hardships (getting embarrassed on several occasions).

“It’s fine. I don’t have any plans,” he told you, forgetting again, that he originally told you that he was busy.

“Same,” you sighed, before lamenting about how tomorrow was already Monday. 

“After meeting with you, I was going to watch that one show on NipponTV that everyone’s been talking about. I don’t really like it, but it gives me something to talk about with my co-workers,” you admitted.

He laughed, “I’ve been watching it too and feel the same way.”

“Are you planning on watching tonight’s episode?” You asked, an idea in mind. Your heart had already forgotten all the shame it had gone through today. “You should stay over then! We can have curry for dinner and watch the show.”

And for the second time today, Uramichi found himself accepting your offer.

–

The inside of your apartment was an unknown place to a bachelor over 30. Uramichi took in all the sights from the neatly organized shoes in the entryway to the feminine touches of florals and personal interests.

“Bathroom’s to the left, if you want to freshen up,” you said before taking his bag to set his groceries on the counter. “I have a patio too, if you want to smoke.”

After he returned from both a smoke and freshening up, he met you in the kitchen. You delegated him to rinsing the rice and cooking it as you continued to chop the veggies for the roux.

“I’m happy you agreed to dinner,” you told him, in-between cuts before heating up oil on a large pot. You threw in the onions when you deemed it hot enough. “It’s nice to share a meal with people at home every once in a while. It makes things less depressing when you live alone.”

You threw in the carrots and potatoes next after the onions browned, stirring for a second before adding water to boil. You glanced back to see him drinking the glass of water you left out for him.

It was more than nice, Uramichi wished he had the courage to say, this was like a forgotten dream. He had grown so used to a dark, empty home. All of the colors, scents, and smells of yours was perfect. His ears tried to pick up the different sounds: you humming softly to yourself, the boiling of the pot, the sizzle of the chicken katsu getting fried. 

“Yeah, I’m happy that I can have dinner with you.”

Checking the settings on the stove, you made sure that it wasn’t on high heat as ‘with you’ echoed in-between your ears.

“I’ll make some extra servings so you can take them home too,” you beamed.

–

“Ugh, I’m so full,” you groaned, taking the spot beside Uramichi on your couch. He edged to the other end to give you more room.

“Thanks for dinner, by the way. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.”

“You’re a busy man,” you tried to justify, getting what he was hinting at. It was easy to fall for those ready-made meals at the market when you’re single. “I’m glad you liked it though.”

The tension from the tea shop crept in as you flipped through TV channels to find that show. You sat in silence trying to focus on your task instead of the man beside you. Uramichi, on the other hand, found you far more interesting than the screen.

With your eyes trained on the screen ahead, you had this furrowed look of concentration. If it was any other setting, he’d call you studios or serious. At home, you looked silly, knowing that you were focusing so hard on finding the correct channel.

He thought about earlier. You wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to kiss you. But when was the perfect time? It could be now, he thought, as you changed channels. Or maybe it was best for later? 

“NipponTV is on Channel 29,” he told you, taking you out of your misery, “and The Silly Circumstances and Conditions that I Met Your Parent Under comes on at six.”

You hummed, “Ah, we have another half-hour until then.”

Another half-hour to watch a different show. Another half-hour to grab dessert. Another half-hour to down a beer. Another half-hour to fuck.

Nope!

No, no, no, no, no.

You pushed the thoughts out of your head before your imagination would run wild. Sweet, innocent Uramichi was sitting beside you, oblivious to your lewdness.

The sound of the opening credits took your attention. Uramichi was already on his phone, showing you his screen that said that tonight’s episode would start earlier because it was the season finale. 

“Oh… That’s great.”

Settling back into the couch, you spread your arm across the space between you and Uramichi. Your hand laid out barely a touch away from his, open and inviting. Uramichi curled his fingers in deep thought before relaxing them again. He gave you a side-glance but you weren’t looking. Then, smoothly before he lost courage, he took your hand in his.

The rough cover of Uramichi’s hand on yours made you turn his way. He was looking at the screen intently, but there was only an ad about another drama on. Slyly, you scooted closer so both your arms could relax, being careful so you wouldn’t break his grip. 

Beside him now, you smiled when you saw how red his ears were. 

–

 Pushing a bag of to-go containers towards him, you said apologetically, “I hope you don’t mind. These were all that I had.” The set you put the katsu curry in was purple with little cats.

“It’s fine,” he waved off. Secretly, Uramichi was touched that you put such care into packing up the food for him. It was as if you were sending him off to work with some homemade bentos–except it really wasn’t and he tried to not look at your actions too closely.

Expecting him to leave right away, he surprised you when he turned around, mentioning that he forgot something. 

His mouth met yours in a heated kiss. This was the opportunity he was waiting for. And this time, he was the one leaning on your door as you slotted yourself between his legs, pleased with what you felt there.

There wasn’t an unexpected noise that tore you apart. It was the need for air instead.

“Good night,” he said, giving you one more peck.

–

Uramichi was pleased with his day until he got home, taking the food containers out of the bag. He forgot that he asked you to put extra onions in the curry. The Uramichi of the past lacked the foresight of knowing that you’d kiss. Now he worried that his breath might have reeked. Even if the kiss was brief, it could have left a bad impression. His immediate reaction was to apologize (even though he forgot that you ate the same thing as him, making your breath the same). 

Ding! His screen lit up on your text thread before he could even send anything.

Thanks for today, Michi ♡ The kiss was a very pleasant surprise

He was relieved. His onion-breath didn’t seem to bother you. And! You called him by his name, even adding a heart at the end. He was worried for nothing.

You’re welcome 〃◉ᴗ◉〃We should do this again

“What a relief,” you sighed, grateful for two things. One–Uramichi responded quickly instead of letting you suffer on ‘Read.’ Two–He wanted to see you again.

Ok

Return to

the Main Masterlist

[willowedhepatica]

Avatrice + snowed in?

A robin wants to escape the storm. It's skittering, wings flapping in hectic motion between the cup of Beatrice palms.

Ava had left the window open.

It thrums, small chest heaving against her hand and Beatrice wonders if it's afraid or simply fights by simple compulsion.

Like she fought the grip of her parents' control to finally find herself amongst sisters.

"You're safe." She whispers, thumb brushing.

Their eyes are black. Small but wide as it looks up at her with a form of indignation.

How strange it felt to see herself in a bird.

"Beatrice?"

She looks up to find Ava standing by the doorstep. Her eyes flick to the open window, then to the wet spot to the floor and at last to the bird in her hand.

"You forgot to close the window." Beatrice says.

Ava walks closer. "Oh my god, did it fly inside?"

"It did. I believe it was trying to seek shelter."

Her eyes glint with awe. She's still ignoring the open window. The storm. The way the hair on her neck stands on end by the cold. "Bea, I need to hold it."

"It needs to be released outside."

Her head tilts to the side and she rocks forward on the heels of her feet. "Come on, just for a minute? I'll let it go afterwards." Her eyes are pleading, soft but still stubborn and Beatrice can physically feel her resolve slip.

Christ.

"Fine." She says, giving in far too easily for her own liking.

Their fingers brush as she transfers it to Ava's hands and she holds on just long enough to make sure it doesn't escape. Her skin tingles from the contact. Her hand curls by her side as she watches Ava bring it closer to her chest.

"She's gorgeous."

"It's a male. You can see by the bright rustic colour on his chest and yellow bill. Females are generally much duller in appearance."

"Oh, sorry." Instead of directing the apology to Beatrice she directs it towards the bird.

He doesn't seem at all amused.

Ava's nose crinkle. "I'm not sure he likes us very much."

"He probably just feels trapped." Beatrice mumbles, more so to herself than anyone else. The snow had come down for days. They hadn't been able to go anywhere for a while and it's making Ava restless. And bored. So bored that the most interesting thing was a bird flying into their living room.

"Can we keep it?"

"Absolutely not."

There's a pause where it looks like she's gearing up to protest.

The bird chirps, stirring in her grip and she looks down and sighs. "Alright, okay. Fine." She walks up to the window, opening it a little wider so she could lean out and release it.

It bursts from her uncupped hands and into its element, dipping past the little store on the other side of the street, wingbeats spasming before it disappears between a large pine tree weighted by snow.

She closes it after her and the room goes silent. The sound of the wind whistling as it drags against treetops seize to exist.

As if they were in a space completely detached from everything around them. From the world.

How risky that could be. How invisible Beatrice could feel.

Maybe now - in this span of time, she could dare to be bold. She could dare to finally, finally, break that tension that seemed to lay between them.

The thread could loosen and she could take a step forward.

“Ava-”

“You know, if I were a bird I think I would want to be a robin.”

Beatrice brows crinkle. Ava always had a talent for catching her off guard. “Why?”

Ava shrugs. “Rumours say they appear when loved ones are near.”

It's said so casually Beatrice has to repeat it in her head a few times before processing it. Loved one? Did Ava believe…

Ava's eyes fall to the space between her neck and her collarbone. “Bea…” She walks closer, Beatrice breath stutters when she leans forward, body close and fingers brushing over the collar of her shirt before she straightens up. “It dropped one of its feathers.”

She exhales. “Ava.”

The feather is brown, pinched between her thumb and index finger as she inspects it with more attention than Beatrice thinks it deserved.

She's right here.

“This one is definitely going in my collection.”

Beatrice huffs, something between a laugh and pure bewilderment. “Ava.”

Ever since they came to Switzerland, Ava had had a tendency to collect small trinkets that normally would be uninteresting. Like the smooth black stone from the lake where they trained or a broken part of a wine bottle she dropped on her first week as a bartender.

Finally, Ava turns her attention towards her, lips setting into that adorably confused frown. “What?”

“Do you believe the robin flew in here for a reason?” She's not sure why she asks. Not sure why a part of her wants to know. That itching, restless part who couldn't stop analysing everything between them like that would make a connection.

“Do you want there to be a reason?” The question seems genuine, curious even.

Her hands ball into fists. She inclines her head.

“Hey.” In the next breath Ava is in front of her, taking her hand in her own. She's gentle, nudging at her fingers to make her open up. Her thumb skims over her palm in a hesitant motion. “I was joking, promise. I mean if I was a bird I would probably just fly headfirst into class or some shit, so not a good fit for me.”

Beatrice huffs, not helping the small smile that slowly tugs free. “You know that's not at all what I mean.”

“I know.” She laughs, eyes softening. “It's okay.”

It's okay. It's okay.

Her chest swells. She exhales, breath shaky as she search for some sort of hesitance. Ava is looking back at her, unmoving - for a change - seeing if she gets it. It's okay. For so long she'd held herself back, refusing to get close to anyone or anything. For so long she's been terrified to let her guard down.

But Ava takes her hand and it's like everything falls apart. All her restraints. All her doubts. Leaving only her left in its entirety.

Ava watches her as if she knows. As if she understands.

For once, it doesn't scare her.

She intertwines her fingers with hers.

“Okay.”

[baileyjane3769]

Original Copy is on Quotev, for a better viewing experience and chapter by chapter reading head on over to my Quotev page @BobbyWolf3769 or click the link here

***

When a game is over and all hidden things have been found, what is there left to do? Move on. That's what you would have liked to have done after finishing the disappointing secret ending of a popular otome game. But when the story is over, and all things were said and done, you find yourself trapped in that very game. Faced with the task to keep everyone alive, can you make it to the end without falling in love?

Long read ahead

Chapter Twelve

Misconceptions Cleared

Monday came faster than you hoped it would. This past weekend had been the most fun you’ve had since coming to this world, but now it was time to get back to the plot because, despite how normal he seemed to act, Akui Minato was still an unpredictable factor who you knew for a fact was capable of killing for the smallest of reasons. This week Suzuki Kaito will fall in love with Yuki, and you need to come up with a way to stop that from happening.

You didn’t plan on waking up early that morning, Makino was already saved so there was really no reason to get up extra early just to make it to class early enough to watch her. Your mother had different plans though.

“Y/n, wake up, your father’s taking you to school today,” your mother said from her place at your door.

Listlessly, you sat up in bed. “Taking me to school? But doesn’t he have work…?” you questioned through a yawn, wiping away the sleepiness from your eyes.

“Oh he still has work, that’s why you need to hurry and get ready so that you two can leave on time.”

“Leave on time…?” you mumbled, brain still trying to wake up. “What time is it anyways?” You crane your neck to catch a glimpse of your alarm clock. “Seven-twenty!? Mama!” In an instant, all tiredness left your body as you snapped your head back to face your mom. “It’s so early, why does Dad need to take me anyways?”

Already expecting this reaction, your mother already took the liberty to start walking away, leading to you having to chase after her as she said, “I don’t trust the management of that school of yours, and if it wasn’t the only school close enough that took your exam scores then I would have transferred you already. So for the time being, your father will be taking you to school. Besides,” we were already down stairs and in the dining room, “walking around too much isn’t good for you.”

“But I was walking around just fine Saturday.”

“Yes, but by the time you got back home you looked and acted completely exhausted. Your doctor wanted you to take things easily for a while, you’re lucky I even let you leave at all. Now then,” she said, pulling out a chair, “hurry and eat so that you can get ready for school.”

‘I just got played, didn’t I?’

After begrudgingly finishing off your breakfast, you dragged your feet to your room so that you could get dressed. Along the way, you figured that you should probably text Yuki that you won’t be able to walk with them for the foreseeable future. You already tried asking if your father could pick up the two along the way, but you were immediately shot down with the excuse that he barely had enough time to drop you off, so picking up your classmates was out of the question.

‘Let me walk to school then if it’s such a hassle…’ you thought with a pout having just finished putting on the uniform’s red bow. Now that you actually put the entire uniform on, it finally set in that you would be going back to school after being in that whole fiasco last week. "Great, I’m going to get clombered again with all those nosy student’s questions.”

You shot a quick text to Yuki and briefly explained the situation. If this was still in the game's plot then Yuki would be wide awake right now from the excitement and resolve of her new goal to find the murderer, but no murder happened, so you can assume she is still peacefully sleeping right now. She will surely be late again.

‘That’s how it should be,’ you thought bitterly to yourself. ‘If it wasn’t for Akui’s selfish actions the lives of these innocent people wouldn’t have to change so drastically. I will make sure that no harm will come to anybody here, so that the only thing people like Yuki will have to worry about is oversleeping and being late to class’

The drive to school was probably the shortest drive you have ever been on. What was originally about a ten minute walk turned into less than a three minute drive. You were so early that the person in charge of opening the school's gate was just barely opening it, and it wasn’t even eight yet. On the bright side it gave you loads of time before hoards of students started bombarding you with questions and concerns.

You waved goodbye to your father, wondering what you’re going to do for the next forty minutes, when a sleek-black car pulled up. You were about to question who else could be here this early in the morning when it struck you. There is only one person you could think of who was willing to be this early to school. Fukumoto Akihiko.

Just as you predicted, it was indeed Akihiko who stepped out of the fancy, and no doubt expensive, car. He said a few words to his chauffeur before closing the door and straightening his back, locking eyes with you in that moment. His eyes widened for only a fraction of a second before he went back to his composed persona. “Hello, L/n-san, you’re quiet early today, even under normal circumstances. Is there an important occasion?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just my Mom doesn't trust the school anymore, or something like that, so she had my Dad drop me off before work,” you replied. “He goes to work early which means I need to be at school early.”

“I see…” Akihiko looked like he wanted to say something else but was hesitant, so you decided to wait for him to continue, which he did by adding a quick, “How are you feeling?” His face showed that of concern mixed with what you could only assume was regret. Clearly, he felt that he was in some way responsible for what happened to you, which you could understand especially after what he told you last week.

“I’m doing much better now, thanks for asking, but some things are gonna need more time to fully heal,” you said in response, referring not only to your cast bound hand but also your mental health. What Makino did to you was still something that you were trying to get over, coupled with the ever looming threat of Akui, there was an unshakable feeling of being overwhelmed that you did your best to bury.

Despite the polite smile that you wore on your face, the look in your eyes clearly told Akihiko that you were somewhere else entirely, at least mentally you were. He felt like there was something he could say or do to comfort and help you, but at the same time there was a distance between the two of you that kept him from reaching out. You are just classmates after all, at least for now.

Realizing that you were spacing out, you quickly shook your head to rid yourself of any negative thoughts. “Anyways, I’m probably going to walk around for a bit, enjoy the peace before the interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” Akihiko questioned with the slightest tilt of his head and quirk of his brow.

“Oh, sorry, it’s nothing. That’s just what I have taken to calling the bomb rush of questions that our classmates have for me every time I come back from an injury I sustained,” you sheepishly admitted, shifting your weight slightly between each foot and avoiding eye contact.

Akihiko seemed to grimace slightly at the thought of those students, rolling his eyes as he said, “Yes, now I understand what you mean. They clearly don’t have any respect for the feelings of others and lack any basic etiquette. Not only are they a disturbance but are clearly making you uncomfortable as well.” It seems that this particular group of gossiping students really got on Akihiko’s nerves. With an irritated huff, he pushed up his glasses and said, “I have some things I need to handle before going back to class, so I hope you enjoy your walk, and I’ll see you in class then.” He gave a curt bow, which you reciprocated, before walking away.

Despite how hurried and irritated he seemed as he left, you knew that he didn’t mean any offense by it. Bad manners was something he couldn’t stand, and the students that tended to bombard you clearly demonstrated those bad manners, so in a way you could understand his irritability. ‘Still though,’ you begin to think to yourself, ‘he needs to learn how to handle his emotions better if he plans on taking over his father’s company. Even if I wasn’t offended by his attitude near the end, someone else easily could.’ You gently chided him in your head. ‘Too bad we aren’t close enough for me to tell him that myself.’

Now that you were alone again, you decided that it was time to do what you originally planned with all this extra free time that you had; you were going to explore the school using the layout that Akihiko provided for you last week. You still had trouble remembering where everything was, probably due to the fact that you have only been in school for one whole day since coming here. There was never any time for you to properly utilize the layout sheet like you originally wanted, so you figured that you might as well make good use of this free time that you found yourself with.

The school itself was a pretty decent size, with three floors and structured in a popular square way. Understanding how the hallways worked was pretty simple as most year groups were either down the same hall or on the same floor. There were, of course, a few exceptions like the Home Economics classroom, the science labs, and a few other rooms that weren’t grade specific. Some of the more popular clubs also had rooms to themselves. You also were able to figure out where the teacher’s lounge was, which would definitely be helpful if you ever need to find them.

As you continued to walk around you were always mindful of the times so that you wouldn’t be late, but you also didn’t want to arrive too early because if you did then you would surely be surrounded by that mob again. Eventually, you started to feel a bit peckish from all the walking and figured that it wouldn’t hurt to buy a simple drink from the vending machines that you came across that rested beneath an underpass.

You heard about how big on vending machines Japan was but you never expected for them to be this diverse. The wide variety of drink options ranging from different teas, juices, and milk options; you didn’t know what to pick. Many of which were brands that you never heard of, and you didn’t want to waste your money on something that you turned out to not like.

“Maybe milk would be the safest option…” you ponder quietly to yourself. “But then again juice would be tastier…”

“Having trouble there?”

“ACk!” A hand flew up to your mouth to try and cover for the loud, high pitched sound that left your mouth. Your hair tickled your cheek with how quickly you turned to face the boy who scared you, who actually turned out to be Kaneko Fuyuhiko.

“My bad, my bad. I didn’t mean to startle you like that,” he said with a good natured chuckle.

“Kaneko-kun? What brings you here?” you asked with a hand placed over your chest to calm your heart.

“I happened to see you standing around and figured it was a good time to talk to you, I mean, without your guard dog around you, that is.”

“Guard dog? What do you-oh! Are you talking about Kobayashi-chan?” you asked in a breathy tone, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

It seemed Fuyuhiko also found the notion humorous, as he also had to suppress a chuckle of his own when he spoke. “Yeah, sorry if that came out as rude, but you have to admit the nickname suits her.”

“It’s no worries, but it’s probably a good idea to not call her that to her face.”

“You’re probably right, anyways, what are you doing?” Fuyukiho asked, side-eyeing the vending machines you stood next to. “Picking out a drink?” Tentatively, you began to rub the nape of your neck as you said, “Yeah, I’m just a bit indecisive about what I want. There are so many choices, and I feel like I want to try something different, but I also don’t want to waste my money on a drink I won’t like.” You had brought a hand up to your chin now, staring very thoughtfully at the vending machines.

Fuykiho found your seriousness to be both amusing and endearing and couldn’t help but chuckle at your expression. “Here,” he started, “why don’t I pick out a drink for you to try, I’ll pay for it, so that way you don’t have to feel like you wasted any money if you turn out to not like it.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. You really shouldn’t have to--” you tried to protest but he was already inserting the correct amount of money and clicked a button before you could even finish.

“Now it’s paid for, and here,” he held out the drink, “this is for you.” He wore such a proud smile that you didn’t have the heart to reject his offer, so you took the drink. Turning it around in your hand, you discover that it was a strawberry milk tea that he selected. The bottle was cool to the touch. “Go ahead, try it,” Fuyuhiko said with a nod of his head.

You side-eyed him as you hesitantly cracked the top of the bottle before taking a tentative sip of the drink. The first thing you noticed was how sweet the drink actually was. The strawberry flavor was subtle but still present as the drink had an overall refreshing taste to it without the expected artificial taste that strawberry flavored things tended to have. ‘This isn’t half bad.’

“So,” Fuyuhiko drawled expectantly, “how is it?”

You hummed in thought, pretending to have to think about it even though you already knew that you liked the drink. “I’d say it’s pretty decent.”

“Really? Just decent?”

“Yup, just decent.”

“Alright then, Miss Just Decent, class will be starting soon, so do you want to walk together?”

Slightly surprised with the sudden offer, you think about it for a moment before agreeing. “Sure, as long as we take the longer route.”

“Oh, does someone want to spend more time with me?” Fuyuhiko cheekily asked with a slightly flirty undertone. “Why, L/n-chan, I’m flattered.”

You could feel the heat rising up through your neck after realizing how you just sounded. “I-I don’t mean it like that! I just didn’t want to get to class too early because of how many people usually swarm me.” With each passing second of your rambling you could feel your face grow hotter and hotter. “Not that walking with you is such a bad thing, of course. You’ve been very nice to me so far, and I don’t mean to offend you or anything. You know what? Imma stop talking now…” You finished off, picking up your pace with short and quick steps.

“Wait, hold up,” he said with a chuckle, picking up his own pace to catch up with you. “I was wondering where that shy girl I first met was.”

“Hm? What do you mean?” you asked, having calmed down after noting he was probably just teasing you.

“Well, when we first, officially, met you seemed more shy and quiet than what you have been acting like. I was beginning to wonder if I said something to offend you, but I’m glad to see that’s not the case,” he concluded with a bold grin.

“Oh, that,” you began. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call myself shy, socially awkward is probably a better word. Besides, you kind of caught me off guard back then, and I wasn’t expecting you to be so close--” the words got caught in your throat as you turned to face Fuyuhiko only to realize that his face was only inches apart from yours, so close that you could feel his warm breath lightly fan your face. “Eek!” you yelped and jumped back slightly. You just got your face to cool down, but now it felt like it was on fire.

“Pfft--hahaha!” Finding humor in your very flustered form, Fuyuhiko couldn’t help but double over in laughter. Meanwhile, you were left gaping like a fish, and a quick glance at your expression caused another wave of laughter to emit from the flirty blond. “Sorry, sorry. It was too good an opportunity to pass up,” he humorously stated, wiping a few tears from his eyes. “Man, you’re a real character, you know that, L/n-chan?”

Having once again calmed down, you couldn't help but to playfully scoff at him. “Yeah, well then you’re a real piece of work, Kaneko-kun.” 

He only laughed again at your response.

Talking to him felt a lot easier now that you don’t feel so self conscious about being watched by all of your classmates. It wasn’t like anything you had expected, but it was no wonder seeing how Yuki was always blowing him off during the beginning of their relationship. While she at first tried to be polite with turning him down, him constantly trying to put the moves on her only fueled her anger. Of course she later comes to understand him and he is able to understand her, but for a while it was hard to picture them getting along, which made it hard for you to picture getting along with him. Needless to say, you were glad to be wrong.

‘Fuyuhiko is surprisingly easy to talk to, but I still need to figure out how to divert his interest away from Yuki.’

“So how are you feeling?” Fuyuhiko quietly asked after calming down from his laughing fit.

Already knowing what he meant, you took a second to collect yourself and to figure out what you wanted to say. “I guess I’m feeling better now. I mean, it no longer hurts if that’s what you're asking,” you finally say with some hesitance.

“That’s good. I don’t know many of the details but I heard it was bad,” he let out a nervous chuckle but you could tell there was no humor behind it this time. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when he got close to your face he could tell that you were wearing more product than before, proof that, while you may say you’re fine, Makino’s assault was still affecting your life.

From there the two of you dropped the topic of your attack, and instead chose to focus on more light hearted conversation.

It didn’t take too long before it was close to the time that class usually started, and by then you and Fuyuhiko were already by your classroom doors. Despite that fact, you felt that you were a few too many minutes early, even after changing your shoes, so you still felt that there was a risk of being swarmed by your fellow classmates, but you also figured that there was no point in walking around for another five minutes when you were already here. You waved bye to Fuyuhiko and had to shoo him away when he insisted on sticking around for a few minutes to talk in class, but you knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea. If you did enter class with the Kaneko Fuyuhiko then you were sure that you would get questioned by both your classmates and Yuki.

After he had left you took in a deep breath and braced yourself slightly when you opened the door, completely expecting to be mobbed. But the crowd never came and neither did the onslaught of questions. While your classmates did look up from their seats, and clearly looked like they wanted to go up to you, they remained seated and silent, each sharing a look of hesitance amongst themselves.

Confused but not displeased, you made your way to your seat. During your rather short walk, you casted a quick glance around the room, noting the behaviors of the classmates who you knew best. Yuki, whose face held an excited look when you two locked eyes, and Akihiko, who had his chin rested in the palm of his hand as he stared off to the side.

You half expected for your classmates to go back to how they normally are at some point as you went through your classes, but they all remained distant despite the obvious look of desperation in their eyes, desperate for answers from you. It wasn’t until lunch time rolled around that you got an answer as to why.

“Fukumoto-san is really weird sometimes, but I can sort of see how our classmates can respect him,” Yuki suddenly said after setting her bento down on her lap.

Pausing mid bite, you bring down your chopsticks and ask, “Really? What made you change your mind?”

“Oh, I guess you don’t know.”

This piqued your curiosity even more.

“It was Fukumoto-san who got all our classmates to stop bothering you. You should have seen it, that boy can be real scary when he wants to.”

You didn’t know what to make of this new information. In a way you were touched, but this was something that you never expected from him. Though you shouldn't be surprised, there was a reason why he was voted class president, and eventually student body president, after all.

‘As a video game character he annoyed me. But as a real person, he isn’t half bad.’ You weren’t sure why, but the thought of Akihiko going out of his way to make you comfortable made you happy.

When lunch was over, Yuki and yourself started heading in the direction of the Home Economics class, where you would finally be able to experience your Home Econ class after almost a week of missing it due to all sorts of circumstances. But unfortunately you would have to bear witness to Yuki and Suzuki becoming partners and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Your life would have been a thousand times easier if you could, but nothing ever seems to come easy to you.

In other news, you would also be seeing your lab partner again. Like you, she was a background character who held no importance to the plot of the story, but unlike her you have no choice but to insert yourself into the plot to save everyone's skins. Because she held little importance you couldn’t remember her name, but you remember her to be rather plain looking. Rude as that may sound, it was just hard to compare anyone to the main characters who were specifically designed to be eye-catching and gorgeous.

As the two of you neared the classroom, an anxious knot twisted in your stomach at the notion of what is to come. It wasn’t like you were about to enter some dangerous situation, but the idea of Suzuki meeting Yuki and falling in love made you sick. Or rather, the notion of that love being the reason for his death made you sick. You still needed to come up with a plan to prevent that from happening, but how?

Entering the classroom, your eyes immediately darting over to the direction of Suzuki for a brief moment as a lump formed in your throat. Before you could break down crying for seemingly no reason, you quickly made your way over to your station where your seatmate stood waiting. Now that you could see her in person, after all this time, you could finally put a clear face to her, but you have yet to remember her name. 'It was a long the lines of Nano E something.'

As you approach, the plain looking girl with brown, almost black, hair and matching eyes stared up at you with a soft, almost sympathetic, look. "I'm glad to see you're back, partner. How are you feeling?"

[transboysokka]

I’ve lost control of my life it is now 2:30am

(Chris watches Twilight Eclipse for the first time)

Okay fuck it it’s 12:30 am let’s start the annoying love triangle one (I’m guessing)

All I know about anything for the rest of the franchise is bella and Edward will be married and she’ll become a vampire either before or after that and also they will have a creepy baby but I think all that happens in the last book so NO guesses for this movie

At least the budget and therefore quality seem to be getting bigger/better each time

Another cheesy quote from Bella to open us out aight

Like idk she’s a student and I feel like students shouldn’t gotta worry about this marriage shit? Not in high school

It should be illegal to get married before 25 when your brain finishes developing btw

They’re both gonna be so annoying aren’t they, her with wanting to turn and him with wanting to get married, just kill me now

Anyway are they gonna finally resolve that one crazy lady vampire issue from the first movie bc that was really such a tiny problem to drag our

So is it jacob or jake what does he prefer

The music is a little better (so far) at least

Oh fuck not Edward controlling Bella’s movements and friendships GET AWAY FROM HIM BELLA

I get that Charlie has beef w Edward like girl same but also I feel bad for Edward lol

Mom sees that Edward is creepy too

Bella’s lying out in the sun but still just as pale okay

So jealous of T-shirt quilts

Dramatic ass vampire family nothing ever changes

Just get rid of this red hair chick so we can move onto the Vampiric Council villain plot

Teamwork!

More annoyed about Edward wanting to save Bella’s soul now that I know it’s Mormon propaganda tbhhhh

The thing w the Jacob v Edward drama that I never understood all those years ago is that they’re BOTH bad people!!

I still say they’d make a killer polycule

But I do love the “Edward is my boyfriend, Jacob is my best friend, and they’re jealous of each other”

Loving the lady werewolf

But how many are there now it seems like Too Much

Oh imprinting got it cool

WAIT I SWEAR I saw somewhere that Jacob ends up imprinting on Bella and Edwards daughter?????

Anyway at least lautner is kinda losing the accent at this point. Makes him less annoying

Unresolved Victoria plot, unresolved volturi plot, and now someone new???

Cross-species teamwork to help protect Bella how cute

Loving the historical flashbacks actually, I’d love a movie on the lore

WAIT FUCK jasper is SOKKA in that awful shyamalan avatar movie I’m sndkldjdsjkslskshdhdjdkd

JACOB why would you kiss her she just said she doesn’t love you I hate every man in this franchise

Clueless Charlie is pretty great

Rosalie has been nothing but spout straight up facts this entire franchise so far

Wow what a terribly tragic backstory though damn

So amused that they keep talking about defeating newborns lolol

Why would jasper know more about them than anyone else? They’ve all been newborns at some point? Is it bc he’s the most recently turned?

Oh good, explanation

Oh NOW he has an accent? lmao

Since when does he control emotions, have we seen that yet??

Ugh Jacob just DROP IT

Hahaha the father-daughter talks are so good

Listening to Debussy in preparation for seeing depussy nice

Oh DAMN he cockblocked himself. The damn Mormon influence again

It DOES make sense with the era he’s from etc etc

I just know the fangirlies were going crazy in the theatre w this whole sequence

oh NOW she says yes okayyyy

Okay seriously why is Jacob allergic to shirts

Cuddle for warmth. Classic fanfic trope oh all THREE of them should cuddle

“I am hotter than you” wow the fan girls are losing their minds

Anyway like we all know I stan rpats but he IS a goofy looking guy and I am constantly surprised he got cast for this role

Jacob doesn’t know how not to be a creep Jesus

Nice convo Jacob and Edward now kiss

But anyway that was actually super boring

Are they not even gonna SHOW the battle lmao

This movie feels super long am I wrong?

This fake ass snow

He’s literally making her say she loves him grossssss

What is any of this for like she’s less than 30 minutes of screen time away from marrying Edward right?? What was the ENTIRE point of that Jacob kiss

I actually do like how chill Edward was about it though lol

That is NOT Bryce Dallas Howard why doesn’t it look like her

What’s with the metallic clanking sounds when they die

This would be a great time for bella to get hurt and have to be turned, just saying

Oh DAMN did Bella use the trick from the werewolf story nice

Lol I had no idea vampires were so flammable

No idea what just happened to Jacob tbh like he doesn’t LOOK hurt

Why did they have to kill the girl jesus

The second movie was a gay allegory but this one is a trans allegory for sure

ok so yeah that’s another one done I guess lol

[moemoemammon]

yay! requests are open! y'know that thing where the s/o being so weak for their partner? I wanted to request the demon bros being weak for their s/o? does that make sense?

like, for example, MC would pout a little, and say 'pwease 🥺' and the demon bros would be like, 'yes, go on, what do you want from me? would you like my-' they'd just be so weak for mc.

I hope that makes sense! also, if it's too much characters, you can just do mammon and satan :) thank you ;3

Their One Weakness: MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer is known as the cruel eldest of the brothers. A sadist whose word is law, whose will can only be bent by Lord Diavolo himself. And yet since you came to the Devildom, all you ever seemed to do was the opposite of what he asked. Yet he still came to love you. He wonders if he spoils you too much...

Especially when you always seem to get your way one way or another. When you proposed the chaotic idea of a massive get together between the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall, Lucifer immediately said no. It’d be way too noisy and he had things to do.

But THEN... You fixed him with those damn EYES of yours.... The big eyes filled with sparkles and hopes that pleaded to him.... stop staring at him with them big ol eyes-

Lucifer REFUSES to acknowledge how cute you are when you look at him like that. Well, verbally anyway. You look like a kicked puppy...and he loves puppies...

"............I suppose if we prepare right now and get a dinner menu ready, it could be possible. And if you pout any harder you might pull a muscle, and I doubt I could explain that to Lord Diavolo. Now, go tell the others what you have planned."

Mammon

Mammon is practically the biggest MC simp in the world. You always occupy his thoughts any time of the day. 'Oh, MC would probably like one of these'. 'MC's always eatin' this for lunch. I'll grab one.' 'This would be way less borin' if MC were around...'

But as the Tsundere 🤢 king of the Devildom, there's no way he'll admit to any of that! So what if he's head over heels for you?! That doesn't mean he's gonna be all weak in the knees the moment you-

Wait, you're saying that because he lost a bet yesterday and promised he'd take you out to Ristorante Six and pay for the whole thing, now he's gotta pay up?!?! No way! He doesn't remember what you're talking about, and that voice recording you've got on your phone is clearly fake!

Mammon's dead set on weaseling out of his promise, until you freeze him in place with your pouty face... then you hit him with a "please..?" and the Avatar of Greed swears he might die right then and there.

"Tch..! Damn it, I ain't got a choice when ya look at me like that!!! What're ya playin' at, pulling' my heartstrings like that?! Hurry up and get dressed so we can go! A-and ya better eat your fill, too!"

Levi

The founder of the top secret MC Cult Fanclub, there's not much that could keep Levi from becoming putty in your hands. He's used to idolizing the objects of his affection, and you're no exception!

So when it comes to bending to your will, he's definitely the easiest. Except when it comes to n-...normie stuff...

Seriously, do you think someone like HIM should be going to The Fall?!?! No way! Not in a million, billion, trillion years!!!! You shouldn't get him to go to that crowded club even if you dragged him there!!!

Then... you hit him with the cute act... You declare your loyalty to him as his beloved Henry, fixing him with a pleading look that shoots him straight through the heart, and... GAH, HE'S GOT NO CHOICE!!!!!

"At... at least help me choose something to wear..! I don't know how I'm supposed to dress for normie stuff like this!!! Aaah... I wanna stay home, b-but when you say something like that, I just can't win-!"

Satan

Satan openly admits to how he likes to spoil you. It's cute seeing how big your grin becomes when he gives you something you wanted, and how happy you are when he takes you out for the evening.

But there are some things even he doesn't want to do, like when you suggest going to a chess tournament with Lucifer. You've been pressured by Lucifer wanting to attend, but figured it'd be easier to sit through with someone else. So why not Satan, who'd mentioned liking chess?

Yeah... he'd go if Lucifer weren't involved. As much as he'd love to go and pull some strings to ruin the match for the dear eldest, he's got something else planned involving a well timed glue bomb and Lucifer's study. So he'll pass.

Or so he thought, until you started poking your fingers together and mentioned how you'd hoped you could both enjoy it together. Kind of like a date..? Gah, his heart and its weakness for unconventional dates-!!!!

"...I... suppose I could go. It’d be nice to study how Lucifer plays, so I can finally beat him. Don't you think the look on his face will be priceless? And if you're there as well, I'll be able to stomach watching his face for an hour."

Asmo

Asmo LOVES you more than aaanyone!! There's no one who loves you more, you know? Why, he wants to involve you in every aspect of his life, and actively tries to do just that! He's even tried dragging you into the tub with him a few times...

And when it comes to spoiling you, he loves it! He's always the one being spoiled, so it makes him giddy when he can give a little back. If there's anything you want from him, just tell him and he'll make it happen!

Eh? You want to play fangol? With HIM?? Um... pass. You know he just got his nails done, right? Asmo's not really a fan of running around with a ball and getting knocked to the ground, so... no thanks! ❤️

Wait, don't make that face! What're you looking so glum for?? He'll kiss your sadness away, and- Eh?! You don't want a kiss?? You really wanna play THAT badly?????

"....You really don't have me mistaken for Beel, right..? You really want to play with ME? ...Haaaah, fine! I'll play one game with you, and in exchange, you have to spend all of tomorrow with moi! Sounds good, right~? Now let me see if Satan will let me borrow some of his clothes...urgh..."

Beel

As a 'go with the flow' guy, there's not much Beel won't do with you, even if it's not really something he's interested in. As long as he has you around and a surplus of snacks, he's fine with anything.

Until you suggest going to Majolish to try on some stylish outfits. You mention how Beel wears variations of the same thing all the time, so it's time for an update! He thinks you're spending too much time with Asmo...

Beel isn't really into tight, itchy, stiff fabrics like the 'stylish' things they sell at Majolish, and decides he'd much rather go to Hell's Kitchen instead. He's hungry. Are you hungry?

'Stop changing the subject'? Ah.. damn it 😔 Wait, now you're saying you just wanted to buy fancy outfits because you were planning to take him to Ristorante Six?! You can't tell if he's blushing over your consideration or the idea of food, but now Beel's looking through the clothes with earnest.

"I didn't know you were the winner of that 'all you can eat' coupon lottery. When I didn't win I was pretty upset, but I'm glad to know it was you. Even if these clothes are weird, I'll wear them. Can you pick something good for me?"

Belphie

Belphie likes to spoil you in more subtle ways, instead of simping as hard as his brothers. He's still as much of a sucker for you as they are though, much to his dismay. All you have to do is smile and you've got him wrapped around your gross human finger.

But when you mention wanting to go biking with Lord Diavolo and wanting him to come along, Belphie suddenly discovers that his ears don't work anymore. Anyway, goodnight-

Hey, stop poking him like that. Can't you see an deaf man is trying to sleep here?? And what's with that face..? You're pouting so hard you look like you're going to explode. It's cute, but Belphie can close his eyes an not see it.

But then you scoot into bed with him and hold him from behind, and the sleepy demon starts feeling his resolve crumble. You have some dirty tactics, huh..? Getting all cozy with him just because he's got a soft spot for you...

"...............Why Diavolo of all people..? I'd prefer anyone over him. Ugh... Hey, they still rent out those two person bikes, don't they? I'll only go if I can ride on that with you. I'll sit right behind you and cheer you on, okay? ..What's with that look? I'm joking...maybe."

[saturnscribe]

But First, Dessert

Harvey x Reader; established relationship. 18+ minors DNI

A/N: This is an ao3 mirror. I won’t be linking it, I’d like to keep the two accounts separate. I don’t have any warnings, I had just meant to write a fluffy drabble where SDV Harvey... has dessert before dinner.

The doctors’ usual steady fingers trembled slightly as they played over the fabric of your underwear. He’d seemed so confident up until now, surprisingly so. The way he pushed you into the room with a searing kiss, how he tore at your blouse, nearly popping a button off it. Harvey’s mouth was hot as it trailed down your chest, leaving the occasional mark you wish he’d make darker. His hands were hungry as they slid into your bra, down your sides. He was quick to pull your pants off, thrown into some corner of the room. But now, with you clad in your panties, he seemed unsure.

“What’s wrong,” you push yourself off the bed, weight resting on your elbows. Your question seems to snap him out of his thoughts, and Harvey looks up with a heated stare.

“Nothing,” he licks his lips and hooks his thumbs into the cotton material of your underwear. The shake in his hands slowly ebb. You shift your weight to help him work the last bit of fabric off your hips and down your legs. As it reaches past your knees’ he tears it off and throws it behind his shoulder, lost to the rest of the room. Not losing momentum, Harvey hooks his hands behind your knees, pulls them apart and pushes them up, up, up to where it’s parallel with your head. There’s little to no strain, you’ve always taken pride in your flexibility. But this was new.

Without thinking, you clasp your knees together. You’ve never been so exposed, and it comes as a shock. For once, you feel heat bloom in your face and work its way down your chest.

“H-Harvey!” A hand darts to cover your sex. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him. You trust him, but you’re confused and exposed. Confusion and anxiety swim between your ribs, but you make no move to break his hold. While Harvey’s grip is firm, you know he’d let you escape if you wanted. There seems to be a moment where he expects you to push him away, but after a beat the doctor smiles at you and moves to press a kiss into your thigh.

Your hips buck and thighs press tightly together. The spot is sensitive, just under your knee. Some unknown feeling swirls in your chest. It’s a mix of too many things and you can’t put a word to it until Harvey presses his lips onto your skin again. It’s lower this time, and your breath hitches in your throat. You look down at him, and you nearly jump as he meets your gaze. 0 You fist the blankets beneath you as you suck in another breath between your teeth.

The doctor frees a hand, and you keep your leg in held place. He moves to take his glasses off, but stops to take you in. There’s a sheen of sweat over your exposed skin. Your hand still covers yourself, but the way you hold yourself open, just as he left you, does something to him. There’s a hard look in his eyes you’ve never seen before and you feel yourself twitch. It’s definitely something you’ll have to explore at a later date. This whole thing was something new to explore. Harvey has come at you with an energy like this before, lustful in a way you wouldn’t have expected. But this was different; there seemed to be something new sparking between you.

“Thank you,” he hums, returning to you without his glasses. His hand returns to the soft patch below your knee. Harvey thumb rubs a small circle into your knee in a show of appreciation, followed by a nip into the underside of your thigh, taking note of the way you twitch beneath him. He presses a gentle kiss to the same spot, and begins to work his way down with another, and another. Harvey revels in the way you shake and gasp in his hold and eagerly skips few inches down your open thighs to press a final kiss to your knuckles. It wasn’t hard to guess where he was working towards, but the gravity of it still knocks the breath out of your lungs. He doesn’t ask permission with his words, but the slow and gentle kisses he presses to your knuckles is question enough. Your fingers twitch with a moments’ hesitation before falling away.

He sighs hard in relief, eyes dropping from yours to the wet heat between your legs. Harvey takes a moment, almost admiring. The intensity of his stare eats at you. You were never comfortable enough to really explore yourself past your fingers and the occasional toy, and you wished he’d move a bit faster. It was uncomfortable having him watch you so closely, but before you could show your discomfort, Harvey leans in. His tongue is thick and wet, the heat of his mouth searing. He licks you from your entrance to your clit, a groan falling between you as he passes the exposed nub. Harvey moves closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders in a fluid motion. His free hand holds your hips tight, feeling and trying to restrain the buck of your hips at the action. You pant hard, squirming in his grip. He repeats the action slow and purposeful, trying to read your reactions.

It’s hard to think as he laps at you, taking note of every hitched breath and moan. Harvey always watched you carefully and worked hard to make you happy, but in this moment, it was paying off in ways you could have never imagined. The way he pressed you into the bed was maddening, you wanted to move into him, to get more friction, to guide his mouth to where you needed him the most. But he took his time with you, perhaps reveled in the fact he was solely in charge of your desire. His tongue works in circles and slow drags, enjoying the way your legs tense around him.

Your moan echoes through the cabin when he sucks at your exposed clit. Over the last few minutes, all you received were teasing passes, along or against the nub, or the faintest pressure against your opening. All teases, until now, where he feasts like a starved man. Your hands fly into his hair, finally giving into your desire and tugging him closer. A growl forces itself between your sex and up the expanse of you, a desperate moan meeting the sound in return. Harveys' tongue works you in broken rhythm, but his eagerness makes up for any inexperience. You throb, and clench around nothing, before giving his hair an experimental tug. Another sound pours from him, and he presses your hips further into the bed.

Your head knocks back with a loud whine, head pressing further into the mattress as he moves from your sensitive clit to press his tongue against your entrance. He pries you open slowly, moving in a rhythm meant to tear you apart. You had expected him to move as quickly as he had done before, but Harvey takes his time with the push and pull of his tongue and lips, working you open wet and sloppy.

Your fingers curl tightly into his hair as you begin to break. It was a wonder how you managed to last this long, never having someone’s mouth on you before. He was a bit clumsy, but he more than made up for it. Harvey was eager and paid close attention to you for so long, and it felt so good, but this was something else entirely. He fucks you on his tongue, spurred on by the way you squirm against him. Your fingers tug on auburn strands as pleasure twists in your gut. You need more and you don’t know how to ask for it. You’re not even sure if you can ask for it. His actions pull you apart, and your thoughts are hazy. He’s doing so much for you and you’re not sure you should ask. You didn’t want him to think what he was doing wasn’t enough, and there was no way you could really express yourself in this state.

He moans into you again, slowly pulling out of your heat. His tongue finds itself on your clit again, body convulsing with sensitivity.

“Please,” you whine, the sound thick and desperate. You fix yourself on the word and repeat it again and again, begging without real direction.

Harvey moves a hand from your hip and glides it down across your thigh. Your stomach flips as he pets the inside of your thigh. You’re suddenly aware of how damp the space is between your upper thighs is, and you move to cover your face out of embarrassment. Your boyfriend allows the action with a dark chuckle and moves his hand slowly between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he purrs, fingers teasing your folds. “All this for me? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You make the most beautiful sounds. I can tell you’re loving it.” He nips the inside of your thigh, and you cry out again. You’re hips shake, but you press yourself closer to his face now that you have the room to do so.

“Patient, love.” Deft fingers dig into your hips and a shaky breath leaves you. There’s a lot to explore outside of tonight, you decide.

Kisses are pressed into the soft skin of your thigh, and he works up to the place you need him most. Harvey’s fingers begin to part your lips. He works slowly, taking time in building the moment up.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers between your legs, fingers finally sliding in. There’s a slight burn in the stretch of his two fingers, but you’re more than ready for them. Your moan breaks off as the heat of his mouth returns to you. He’s true to his word, as he gives you exactly what you were asking for. The push of his fingers is almost enough to get you off, but you do your best to keep together. The doctor had quite a way with you, and you knew there would be a reward for waiting.

He doesn’t make you wait long. Harvey’s mouth continues, spurred on by the way you cry and thrash about, all because of his mouth and fingers. The hand at your waist no longer holds you down but wraps around the fingers of your free hand. The other lays in his hair, pushing his head to wherever you need him most. He lets you guide him as he moves his fingers, looking for that sweet spot against your inner wall. He knows he’s found it when you sob, clenching tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” You cry as his fingers work purposefully against the spot deep inside you. Your resolve crumbles quickly, and you rock in tandem with his ministrations. This is what you’ve needed. He knew how to find that spot with ease. It might come from his profession, or previous partners but that didn’t matter. The only thing that did was his precision, eagerness, and ability to absolutely drive you wild when he found that spot.

Sounds pour from you unrestrained. Each thrust of his finger, every curl of his tongue, brings you closer to the edge. Your body strings tight, legs tensing at Harvey’s shoulders, your hand gripping tightly at his hair. Your voice pitches higher, hips pressing firmer into him. He notices the signs and doubles in his efforts. Fingers moving rough into you, mimicking the pace he’d set if he was fucking you properly.

It doesn’t take long after that for your orgasm to rush over you. It hits harder than you expect, your body arching sharply off the bed with a broken cry. You’re faintly aware of Harvey holding you tight with both hands, pressing your hips flushed against him as he works you through your orgasm. His tongue continues, hungry to milk you of your release. A second wave washes over you, a sob escaping your parted lips. You tremble against him, the only thing keeping you upright is his hold. Half your body is slumped into the damp mattress, your grip still tight in his hair. It takes a moment, but with your free hand you manage to pat his forearm in a silent request for no more.

Harvey pulls off you with a gasp, the sound lost in your breathless pants. You continue to tremble, sensitive in all the best ways and still halfway on some other plane. He takes notice and can’t hold back a smile, knowing he was able to bring you to this point. The man slides up your body, presses a wet kiss to your cheek and pulls you into a gentle embrace. He then pushes the hair out of your face and peppers kisses to the newly exposed skin, wanting to shower you in affection.

“Are you doing alright?” He asks softly, hands roaming your body. Harvey always made sure to stay by you until you calmed, post orgasm. He’d clean you if the opportunity arose. Made sure you were hydrated and loved. It was another thing about him that made you feel so lucky, this night aside. You nod in assurance, words still escaping you.

He pets and kisses you as you slowly come down. In the beginning, you had assured him all the attention wasn’t necessary, but you’ve grown to appreciate it. It was a welcome routine. When Harvey was sure you were with him, he offers you a slow kiss, and leaves the shared space of your bed. He wasn’t gone long and returns with a glass of water. He offers to help you sit upright, but you turn it down. You lift yourself upright with wobbling arms, your strength having left with the force of your orgasm. Harvey stands in front you as you drink your water, and when you sit it down, he’s on you again.

During your kiss, you feel a heavy weight against your thigh, and you know there’s business left unfinished. But when your fingers brush against the side of his length, Harvey chuckles and pulls his hips away.

“Not now, love. I wanted to take care of you. Don’t mind it, it has a mind of its own.”

You whine into the kiss, finding it unfair. Taking care of him wasn’t a chore, and Harvey knew it. He knew how much you loved to drop to your knees and service him. Loved the weight of him on your tongue, the feel of him pushing into the tight channel of your throat. The thought of it alone was getting you excited.

“Are you sure?” You ask, fingers brushing along the outside of his thigh.

“Yes.” His laugh is hearty, and it fills you. You love him so much, every little thing about him. His giving nature, how unselfish and loyal he was. You loved each shared cup of coffee, intimate look, and hold. It might be early, but you had plans to visit a certain merchant the next rainy season.

“Now that we’ve had dessert, let me get started on dinner for you.” Harvey kisses you deeply, taking your breath away.

[littlefreya]

As I was saying

Summary: You recently found out that you’re pregnant and Henry is being all sorts of over-protective and annoying about it and won’t shut up about what you should or shouldn’t eat. So you find a creative way to shut him up...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity thought it’s mention that Henry is taller)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, RPF, fluff to smut, early pregnancy, blow job, bodily fluids, slight FemDom/SubMale, My overuse of poetic sex metaphors, cottagecore!

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts from it.

A/N: This story was born out of a convo I had with my sweet @the-soot-sprite​ about the photo above. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ my solid rock who betas all my work and to @firefly-graphics​ for the dividers

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my story. I work hard on each one of them and your validation means the world to me. 🖤

As I was Saying

Henry’s velvety voice carried through the cottage like seductive vapours of honey liqueur. It wasn’t often that he'd sing a blissful tune so casually out of the blue—after earth-shattering sex perhaps, which indeed you had the night before. However, this morning, his chants were laced with a new flavour of sugary bliss. 

Two little pink stripes. That's all it took for his eyes to shimmer the way precious cobalt is kissed by a moonlight glow.

Sneaking about in the mien of a curious little mouse, you trod after the pleasant tune of his voice, which was now accompanied by a soft rustle. Wander laved your face once you leaned against the kitchen door frame, peering at the prodigious man who stood in front of the open fridge. 

Preoccupied, he appeared to be ransacking through the shelves with the song ‘Cheek to Cheek’ thrumming on his tongue.

“Heaven... I'm in heaven…”  

Fingers clutching at the edge of the wall, you pressed into the chilled surface with a relaxed smirk, lingering on the irresistible view when your ease of mind faded with a blink of an eye — while methodically rummaging through the fridge, Henry threw fresh food straight into an open trash can.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice rising to a high-pitched yip. 

Henry made a soft flex; the muscles of his back rippled in a tidal motion. Though acknowledging your presence, he proceeded to hover a finger over different products. 

“Cleaning up the fridge," he answered absentmindedly.

With a soft shove, there went your French cheese. 

“That’s brand new!” you protested and rushed toward him, alarmed. 

Towering over the trash can, you considered diving in to salvage the precious bulk of cheese from the dreary pit. Henry glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, testing your resolve while his claw grabbed some papaya salad leftovers and pushed it over the edge of the shelf, joining the rest of the discarded meals. 

“It is,” he nodded and closed the refrigerator door, carrying on to the high cabinets. With a slight wrinkle between his brows and a hand scratching the stubbles of his dimpled chin, he narrowed his eyes to scrutinise the items carefully. “I'm pregnant-proofing the kitchen. I called Hanna while you were asleep. She created a proper daily menu for you with the dos and don’ts: less sugar, more veggies and protein.” 

It took you a moment to process his words, your eyes narrowing while asking, “Hanna? As in Hanna, your nutritionist?”

Henry nodded at your question, a faint crease lining his cheek. “That’s the one. Don't worry, princess, she specialises with pregnant women.”

Unwittingly, a somewhat inhuman growl sounded in your chest. You were only getting used to the idea of developing another person inside you, and here stood your husband, already seeing fit to dictate your diet. Slithering into the narrow space between the heavy man and the counter, you tilted your chin to meet his stare while your fists pressed into your hips assertively. 

“Listen here, Cavill! You might have jizzed me one too many and succeeded in putting a baby in there, but this is still my body. I can take care of my own pregnancy diet.”

With an arm stretched above your head, Henry offered a charming display of pearly whites to pacify your strained nerves. His dimples nearly managed to beguile your senses when your eyes flared at the sight of what was held between his long fingers.

“No! Henry, no! Not the coffee!”

“Oh, I’m afraid so, my love. You shouldn’t have any caffeine at your current state.” Despite his argument, the tenderness of his gaze stroked upon your face like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Lazily it dropped to your belly, the cascading heat cradling your unborn child. 

Words of protest left you for a sliver of a moment, too in awe of the dreamy grin on his face. 

Thoughts of how beautiful you’d look rounded and full with his child illuminated him that you swore his skin developed a glow over the night. Didn’t they always say women are radiant when they are pregnant? Well, it seemed that in your case, it applied to your husband as well.

The charming haze of bliss almost swallowed you up; but you quickly slapped yourself back into reality, reaching a hand in an attempt to stop Henry from throwing away your delicacy. Though taller, Henry held his hand far out of reach, a hint of a smugness stretching his lips.

“A pregnant woman is allowed to have a little bit of caffeine!” You muttered and sent both hands in an attempt to retrieve the box while Henry teased you by throwing it from one hand to the other, further fueling your annoyance. 

Vexed to the point of frustration, you stood still and sighed, “you know what else is bad for the baby?” 

Henry paused his foolish games and tilted his head as he waited to hear your answer.

“His father at the morgue after I’ll kill him. Now stop that and hand it over! A pregnant woman can have a cup a day, according to Google.” 

“Nope,” Henry clicked his tongue, his laughter replaced with a severe stare. “Love, I know they say it’s okay to have a teeny bit, but I’ve been doing some research while you were asleep, and it’s not recommended. Caffeine increases heart rate and blood pressure, which is not good for you nor for the baby. It also increases urination, which may cause dehydration.”

Clenching your jaw at the onslaught of information he bestowed, you watched his lips move while none of his words registered. Preoccupied with the rules of a “healthy” pregnancy, Henry was set on being the practical one, completely forgetting to enjoy the moment. And damn, it was the moment to celebrate. All you wanted right now was to stay in bed for a day, ride your handsome husband to hell and back and eat as much ice cream as possible.

“Everything you eat from now on goes to our baby,” Henry proceeded to lecture on a thing you were perfectly aware of.

Ire found you within seconds, embroiled with pregnancy hormones which made him further intolerable at the moment— intolerable

... and delicious.  

Soaked with hunger, your eyes raked his sight: the thickness of his muscles was apparent beneath a plain black t-shirt and those good old grey sweats outlined the source of your current predicament. Your fingers twitched just from thinking about it, mimicking the sensation of squeezing its girth and eliciting those low groans that made your heart flutter. 

But his chatter still interrupted your sultry thoughts. If only there was a way to get him to shut up, you mused. Then your eyes focused on the soft bulge that winked back at your hungry glare.

Unaware, Henry turned toward the table to grab a bulk of informative documents he printed earlier in order to educate you of your pregnancy, he licked his thumb and began to read through, “As I was saying….”

Hastily, you exploited his lack of attention and took a step forward, your fingers latching around the hem of his sweats. With one swift movement, you fell to your knees and tugged his trousers along. 

Lost in his passionate speech, Henry was still muttering nonsense when your hand seized him; but as the lushness of your tongue bedded his soft cock without warning, all that could be heard in the kitchen was a husky gasp. 

Feeling the warm silky flesh swell and harden within your mouth, you sent your eyes up to peer at him, admiring the sight. Nothing spoke of your power better than the wrinkle between his shut eyes and his mouth agape with all air draining from his lungs. There you were, lowered to your knees with a maw full of his cock and yet, he was the one who lost his ability to speak and had his legs quaking of need. 

Unable to help yourself, you sent one palm to feel the tremor that ran through the muscles of his thighs while the other cradled his heavy sac. 

“Uh……” he finally managed to utter, a groan of bemused bliss pushing itself between his parted lips. “What… what are you doing?” 

You crooked an eyebrow in response and answered by dragging your mouth along the length of his shaft. Your pillowy lips ran across ridges and thrumming veins, your jaw loosening until you felt him deep in the back of your throat. 

Locked in the cavernous cage of your maw, he tightened his gut and shuddered with pleasure. Though, the low unbridled groans that sputtered from his chest fueled your enticement just as so; memories of how the same thick girth that brimmed your mouth would split open your narrow canal made both your eyes and abandoned cunt tear of desperation.

It always beguiled you how much arousal could be found in bringing him to his rapture without touching yourself. The harder he throbbed on your velvety serpent, the more you soaked.  

With fervent strokes, you feasted on the briny flavour of his cock; the tendons vibrated with bliss while your tongue twirled and pushed around them. You pulled, sucked, and pumped him in your warm mouth, milking the senses of a man infinitely stronger—a man who succeeded in conquering your womb yet now crumbled to nothing at the touch of your tongue.

“Fuck…. Babe… keep going,” Henry breathed out a plea. The documents held by his hand slipped between his fingers as he pressed his palm to the cabinet with a thud, and began to rock his hips back and forth to fuck back into your mouth. Like feathers, the white slips floated around you, landing onto the ground while you worked him to his ecstasy.  

His other hand found your head, caressing lovingly and trying to take control: yet his strength waned and his head fell back with a moan. Faster, harder, you sucked your husband to the point of submission while hums of admiration laced around his rigid length. Your eyes beamed as you watched his resolve shatter. Your fingertips toyed with the coarse hair at the apex of his thighs, your thumb seeking the tendon at the base of his cock and pressing into it, urging him to spill his gift down your throat.

“I’m going to… I’m going to…. In your throat… fuck.”

With a guttural grunt, he thickened against your tongue; the overflow of salty-sweet cream glazed your mouth and then flowed down your flaring throat.

The room thrummed with the buzz of the refrigerator, Henry’s heavy exhales - these were the sounds of your triumph. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you cracked a smile and neatly pulled his trousers back on before you rose to stand straight. 

Overwhelmed and drenched in sweat, your husband scrutinised you while you reached for the box of capsules and tilted your head.

“You were saying?”

[earlgreydream]

i hate you.

| 1940s!bucky x reader | fluff | smut |

requested. greaser!bucky au. enemies(?) to lovers. @fitzfiles​ and i are shamelessly indulgent

bucky made up his mind, he was going to win you over. 

Bucky Barnes was the asshole across the street with the stupid loud motorcycle and white tees and leather jackets. You hated him. 

“Hey, doll.” 

You heard it every day when you came walking home from school, books in hand. And every day, it irritated you. You would scowl at Bucky, and he would flash his stupid smirk and wink at you. 

You’d see him shirtless at night, smoking out on his porch. Once, he caught you staring out the window, and he’d teased you about it the next day on your way off to school. 

“Checking me out last night, doll?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s Y/N. And no I wasn’t checking you out. I was watching you die slowly of lung cancer,” you snarked, making him throw his head back with laughter. 

“If smoking doesn’t kill you, I will,” you muttered before going inside of your house.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You screamed, throwing your front door open. You were wrapped in a blanket over your thin pajamas, and you were infuriated.

“What?” He called with a stupid amused look on his face.

“It’s five in the fucking morning! Stop revving the engine on your motorcycle! You’re waking up the whole neighbourhood!” 

“You’re the one screaming.”

“I hate you,” you seethed. 

Without breaking eye contact, he revved the engine again. You were so irritated you could cry, and you resolved yourself to go back inside, refusing to let Bucky get the satisfaction of seeing your reaction to his antagonizing. 

This had gone on for months. You were able to ignore him most of the time, but he was persistent. Your friends joked that he was in love with you, but you couldn’t imagine it. Bucky was delighted to get you worked up, and he was proud of himself for it.

“You’ve all lost your bloody minds,” you assured your friends, dragging them inside as Bucky whistled at you from across the street.

“He’s just my annoying neighbor.”

Bucky seemed to be always washing his yellow car in his driveway. You’d come home and see him shirtless, in low-rise jeans that showed off v-lines, bent over the hood of his soapy car. If it wasn’t the car, it was his motorcycle. He always winked at you or blew you a kiss, making you shake your head or roll your eyes.

 You hated to see him washing his car, because it made it that much more difficult to deny how incredibly gorgeous he was. 

Bucky delighted in getting you worked up. He loved to see your cheeks flush pink and the way your nose scrunched up at his banter. He had a crush on you, ever since he moved in, and he always loved your attention, even if he got it by antagonizing you.

Bucky did intend to get in your good favor, but you had made up your mind that you didn’t like him. Bucky was determined, and loved a challenge.

Bucky decided his opportunity to win you over was when it was pouring down rain. The morning had started out sunny when you’d walked to school, but the weather had turned rapidly mid-morning. 

He got in his yellow car, and drove to the college in town, parking outside and going into the lobby with an umbrella. He leaned against a railing, waiting for you to get out of your class, to give you a lift and keep you from getting soaked and ruining your books.

As soon as it started to rain, you’d fretted about getting home. You didn’t have any friends that drove, and you had been debating whether to wait out the rain or just brave it and get wet.

You definitely didn’t expect to see your neighbour leaning against the railing in the front lobby. 

“Hey, doll.” He grinned, standing when you approached him. He had ignored the stares of the other girls, everything else disappearing when he saw you. 

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you sighed, blushing at the stares you got, everyone hearing his term of endearment for you. 

“I brought my car, I didn’t want you to ruin your books and get wet by walking home in the rain,” he answered honestly, surprising you.

“You drove here to pick me up?”

Bucky nodded, and you fought off a small smile. You didn’t like him, and you were annoyed, but the gesture was thoughtful, and much appreciated. You rationalized the soft feelings by claiming it was basic decency, and it was necessary that you had to take him up on his offer.

“Okay.” 

You took his arm and he opened his umbrella, keeping you dry as he helped you into the passenger seat of his yellow car. You set your books on the dash, leaning back against the leather seat. As he drove, the radio played smooth jazz, surprising you a bit, as Bucky didn’t seem like the jazz type.

“Bucky, you’ve missed the turn.” You said, and he only smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Your heart rate increased as he drove into the city and you whipped your head to look at him.

“Where are you taking me? I thought you were taking me home!”

“I am taking you home, eventually,” Bucky grinned, and you could’ve screamed.

“You can’t just abduct me! Where are we going?! I will throw myself from your moving car!” You snapped, panicking. 

“I’m not abducting you! I’m taking you to have some fun, because all you do is study and it’s made you wound tight!”

“You’re kidding me. I’ve got to write a paper!” You cried, and Bucky just laughed, shaking his head.

“Just relax, Y/N.” 

You gave him a scathing look, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You’re insufferable.”

“Most say charming.”

You followed Bucky into a roller rink, rolling your eyes but secretly excited about rollerskating. You slipped your feet into white skates, thankful today you had chosen to wear pants. 

You stepped onto the rink with Bucky right behind you. It had been a while since you skated, and you were a bit unsteady on your feet. You pushed forward, putting your arms out for balance as you tried to get used to the feeling of the wheels under your feet.

“Careful!” Bucky exclaimed when you nearly fell, catching your waist to steady you. You gasped, your hands going to his arms for balance. A blush spread across your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the gentle, caring way he touched you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, pushing off his arms and skating smoothly around. He fell in rhythm beside you, skating to the music. 

He tried to show off by skating backwards, but lost his balance and fell, making you shriek. You moved toward him quickly, and held out your hands to help him up.

“Are you alright?” You asked, and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” 

You decided you’d had enough then, and the two of you resorted to eating pizza at a parlor down the street, Bucky insisting on you needing dinner before you went home. You shivered as you stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant, coming out of the warm summer evening. Bucky slipped his black leather jacket from his arms and put it on you when he noticed. You whispered a soft thank-you, pulling it tightly around your smaller body. It smelled faintly of smoke and castile soap, like him. 

Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight of you wearing his clothes, his heart stirring as you hugged it around you.  

“Feel better?” Bucky asked as you bit into a slice of pizza.

“I’m not going to let you take credit for loosening me up.” 

“Oh, I haven’t even tried to loosen you up yet.” He joked, making you choke on your water. You glared at him for the suggestive comment, and he smirked. 

You blushed at the insinuation, images of intimacy with Bucky flashing through your mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you shifted under his gaze.

“Smartass. You still abducted me.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

You took another bite of your pizza, finally breaking the intense eye contact. 

Even though you had enjoyed the night with Bucky in the city, and you’d gone home full of butterflies, he had quickly managed to get back on your nerves. 

Bucky’s friends came over to party, and they were loud, obnoxious, and kept you (and half the neighbourhood) up with their partying the night before you had a presentation at college. You were infuriated when you complained to Bucky, and he told you that you should’ve just come to party with them, since you were up anyways. 

Then there was the fact that Bucky kept revving the engine of his damned motorcycle. You hated it, especially early in the morning when you were trying to peacefully trying to pour a cup of coffee. 

You couldn’t stand him, and he just made you mad. 

You hated his motorcycle, and you hated his arrogance. You hated how everyone dropped to their knees at his every whim. You hated when you’d see him painting his fence or working on his car outside, and he’d pull his shirt off when he saw you looking. You hated that Bucky smoked. 

Mostly, you hated how everything Bucky did gave you butterflies. 

Bucky adored the way your brow knit together when you glared at him. He adored the blush of your cheeks and the way you huffed in annoyance. He loved to see your eyes glitter with emotion whenever he got under your skin. He adored the way your eyes lingered on him whenever he was shirtless in the yard.

Bucky adored you.

The night was particularly warm. The summer heat had everyone on edge, and you and Bucky were no exception. The moon was the only light in the starless sky, a dark stillness settling over your neighbourhood. It was incredibly late, but you couldn’t sleep like everyone else. You had been enjoying the quiet loneliness of the night when Bucky had gone outside to the sidewalk. He was shirtless as he lit a cigarette, grinning at you. 

“Hey, doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, feeling like a broken record.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he blew smoke into the air, and you stood up off your porch swing. You walked across your small lawn quickly, until you were standing in the street. 

“You shouldn’t smoke, it will kill you,” you quipped, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t stand in the street, a car can come and kill you.” Bucky said back, though there was a tone of seriousness to his voice.

“It’s the middle of the night, no one is going to-”

Bucky suddenly grabbed you and yanked you toward him, making you shriek. Less than half a second later, a car without its headlights on came flying down the street. 

Your eyes were wide with fright, unable to process that Bucky had just pulled you from in front of a car. His eyes blazed with emotion, and you tried to shove off of him. 

“You almost fucking died! I told you not to stand in the damned street!” Bucky snapped at you, raising his voice. 

“Don’t yell at me! I wouldn’t have been in the street if you weren’t such an asshole!” you shouted back, your eyes and throat burning, making your entire body tremble. 

“Why are you so fucking difficult?!” Bucky’s fear at seeing you almost get hit by a car in front of him fueled his emotion, and he didn’t mean to yell at you, but the feelings were boiling over. 

“Because you make me so mad, and because I love you, you idiot!” You screamed before you could stop yourself. When you said the words out loud, you realized you meant them, more than you meant any of the anger. 

There was a deafening silence, and it was too late to take it back.

“Bucky, I-” you stammered, but he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, pulling you into him. 

Passion lit like a fire between you, and you reached up and held his face, kissing him back with force. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moving in sync with you, swallowing your small noises. He cradled your jaw as his mouth moved with yours, drawing you even closer.

The heat practically suffocated you, and you were completely lost in Bucky. He tasted like smoke and coffee, and his body was pressed against your own, overwhelming you with need. His hands slid down to squeeze your ass, and you rolled your hips against his as you moaned. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered when the two of you finally broke for air. He wasted no time before mouthing along your jaw, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. 

Your hands ran down his toned chest, before hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging his hips closer against yours, wanting to feel him hardening against you. The heat between your legs was spreading, and you were aching for him. 

Bucky groaned against your neck as you ground against him, and he backed you up against his car, needing to ground the two of you. He could hear your small, breathy pants by his ear and you were practically shaking with need. 

“Bucky, please touch me,” you begged, months of sexual frustration pouring out all at once. Who was he to deny you? He kissed you deeply, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing him against your front. 

Your breath hitched when he slipped his hand into your waistband, cupping your sex. You spread your legs a bit, and he slipped his fingers through your folds, tracing the shape of you. 

He hardened at the sound of your soft moans and the feeling of you twitching against his fingertips. Neither of you cared that you were outside, on display for anyone who woke up in the night. 

He found your clit, stroking it softly while you made out, swallowing all of your sexy noises. You were overwhelmed by what he could do with just his fingers, and you somehow needed him closer, even though your bodies were pressed against each other. Your body was buzzing with pleasure from his small touches alone, and you were having the same effect on him. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathed, lightly biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he eased a finger inside of you. He pumped slowly, and you took him in easily with how turned on you were. 

“I know, doll, but I gotta warm you up first so I don’t hurt you.” He kissed your jaw, and a short laugh escaped you. 

“Cheeky,” you hummed, palming over his crotch, making him push two fingers into you all at once. The air caught in your throat, but you kept feeling him up as he curled his fingers forward into your g-spot. 

The way you were moaning his name was driving him wild, and he couldn’t draw out the foreplay anymore. You pulled your shirt over your head, thankful you had forgone a bra. Your shirt was discarded in the driveway, and Bucky tugged your bottoms down easily before lifting your nude body up onto the hood of his car. You leaned forward, undoing the button on his jeans and helping him out of them, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was. 

Bucky grinned at you, able to read your mind, your thoughts evident in your startled expression. His ego definitely didn’t need the boost, and you blushed when you realized he was grinning at your observation. 

Your tongue nervously darted out over your lips, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered you to lay down on the cool metal, making you shudder when it came into contact with your hot skin. 

You exhaled softly as his hands skimmed down your body in an attempt to ease your nerves. He leaned down and kissed you gently, bending your legs up to your chest. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll,” Bucky promised, and he meant it. You nodded, your head falling back as he slowly rocked into you. 

Your vision focused in on the moon hanging above you in the sky, and you didn’t care about being outside, even as the warm breeze ruffled your hair. 

“Bucky... fuck,” you whined, arching your back, pushing yourself further onto him. Your knees went over his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as he rocked his hips against yours. 

The slow, deep rhythm had you struggling to breathe, pleasure rolling through your body in thick waves. Bucky was overwhelmed by the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him, tight as he fucked into you all the way. 

“That’s my girl,” Bucky praised you as you pushed down to meet his powerful thrusts. 

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, and you felt pressure building low in your belly as he repeatedly hit the spots inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were moaning his name and writhing below him, the sight making him nearly explode.

“Y/N,” Bucky gasped out, fucking into you roughly, one of his hands rubbing your clit to help you along before he couldn’t fight off his own orgasm any longer. 

With the added stimulation, the pressure snapped inside of you, making you squeeze around him and come with a scream, not caring if you stirred the neighbours. 

Let them see Bucky taking you on the hood of his car. 

Your name fell from Bucky’s lips like worship, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and forcing you to contract around him pushed him over the edge. He came inside of you, painting you with his release and prolonging your own pleasure.

You looked down at him once the buzzing pleasure started to subside, a sleepy smile on your face. He grinned at you, pulling you up into a sweet kiss. 

“Still hate me, doll?”

[atozfic]

lessons in law.

⎘ pairing: fem!reader x choi san.

⎘ genre: dilf!san, lawyer!san, tutor!san, law-student!reader, smut, all parties are of legal age!!

⎘ warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, light name calling, mentions of punishment, san is a simp in denial.

⎘ description: sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with an oral exam.

⎘ word count: 1.6k

⎘ author’s note: this was supposed to be a less-than-500-words timestamp. 🧍‍♂️

⎘ taglist: @yunhobabygurl, @eonghwa, @iusrene, @nari-nim, @couchpotatoaniki, @vanishingboots, @yoheyyosup, @spacepiratehongjoong, @rainteez02​ unable to tag: @harry-the-pottypus

masterlist.

navigation.

© atozfic, 2021.

“for a d-defamation lawsuit to turn out success- fuck!” from the moment your resolve slips, you regret it, almost going as far as to complain verbally, if you didn’t already know better.

talking back will only get you punished, and not in the way of whips and chains and all things spice, but in the way of being left high and dry, pussy wet and unfilled. 

cold air brushes up against your sensitive folds as the man beneath your desk pulls away from your sopping core. you glance down in time to catch the way he swipes his tongue over his lips, collecting the juices you’ve covered him in, in as little as the three minutes he’s been down there.

he’s looking at you with one eyebrow raised, expectantly, awaiting you to correct the error of your ways.

“did i tell you to stop reading, princess?” his voice, the way the gruff in it curls over his words and his beautiful lips move as he speaks, sends a fresh rush of arousal down your nerves.

“no, mr. choi.”

“and what did you do?” 

“stop-” you start, only to do the very thing you said when you jolt in your seat, moments after he’d blown air onto your pulsating heat, torturing you with the minimum amount of pressure against your clit. it takes a deep, calming breath on your end to centre yourself again. “i stopped reading.”

“tsk.” his response worries you. so vague, you’re yet to figure out if he’s going to even bother continuing with the pleasure he was giving you. as if sensing your unsure nature, the drag of his pointer finger over your soaked entrance becomes his answer to the unasked question. “how am i supposed to know you’re studying the notes i gave you if you do that, hmm? do it again and we’ll have to cut the tutoring lesson short today.”

he could have whispered the words and you still would have heard him loud and clear. your eyes reluctantly snap back to the textbook instead of staring down at the sight of him between your legs, hair perfectly slicked back and begging to be messed up, tie undone and hanging from his neck, shirt sleeves rolled up his arms and straining against the muscles of his forearms.

“the act of defamation occurs when someone makes a false and harmful statement...” you begin reciting the words again, after you’d cleared your throat.

as san’s face lowers back onto your aching cunt, you remind yourself over and over to read, just read. that’s all he wants you to do and, in exchange, he’ll take you to heaven with his tongue. but oh, it is so much easier said than done. your hands soon find a grip on the edge of the desk, a place to root yourself down while his tongue drags over you lazily.

“there’s two different types of defamation-” his tongue teases at your hole and you want to beg him, scream at him to shove it- or any other part of him- into your cunt, walls clenching around nothing but your own wetness, causing it to ooze out onto your tutor’s waiting tongue. “libel is the name given to any defamatory words that are written...”

“my princess has the prettiest pussy.” a hand snakes it’s way up your leg, wrapping a tight grip around your thigh before he props it onto his shoulder. when his tongue finally breeches your walls again, it’s at a whole new angle than earlier, and that alone has you wishing you could throw the textbook off your desk only for you to bend over it while mr. choi takes you from behind.

“slander is spoken defamation, and often more trickier to prove in court...” instead, you keep reading so that he’ll keep eating.

“what would your dad say if he knew this is what you use our tutoring sessions for, huh?” san continues to taunt you between licks of your cunt, switching his focus between your hole and your clit. he’s trying to get you to disobey him. “if he knew his dear friend who he asked to help his pretty little daughter get accepted into his law firm has actually been teaching her how to take a proper cock? oh, and just imagine his face if he knew that i fucked you under his very own roof.”

“d- defamation cases are often costly and are a long procedure...” you can’t help it when, instinctually, your hand flies down to tangle itself in his perfectly done hair. instead of pushing you away like you’d thought he would have, san only closes his eyes and let’s out a moan as you tug his hair, face nestling itself deeper between your legs and causing his nose to bump against your clit.

“you have no idea how much i think about you, baby.” his free hand lands on your heat, cupping it as he pulls back to stare up at you. “got me wishing i could have you every hour of the day. that you were mine alone to touch, and fuck, and kiss.”

“w-what would-” you become brave suddenly, spurred on by the moment of vulnerability from the man between your legs, looking so much more at your mercy than ever before, like he’s begging to worship the only goddess he’ll ever know. “your son, or your ex-wife, say if they knew you were doing this, hmm? that you took on an apprentice only to corrupt her?”

“you were corrupted long before i got my hands on you, y/n.” he smirks up at you, only to chuckle when he thrusts a finger into your cunt, no warning, and you gasp, tugging on his hair again. “the only thing i’ve done is show you how good sex can be when you’re doing it with someone experienced instead of some sweaty frat-boy who finishes in two minutes and doesn’t even know where your clit is.”

“you’d be surprised, some of them are better than you give them credit.” you’re lying, without an ounce of shame about it. and it’s more than worth it to see the way his eyes darken, his eyebrows frown, his hand picks up the speed that his finger thrusts into you.

no warning comes when he inserts a second finger. 

“really? can they make you beg for their cock like a bitch in heat?” he doesn’t bother to stall any longer, head diving back down between your legs to shut you up.

his mouth latches onto your clit, rolling it between his lips and prodding at it with his tongue while he continues to fuck you with his hand. a third finger enters you and you throw your head back, body curling off the leather of your desk chair while you tighten your grip on san’s hair.

“mr. choi, please.” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for.

“yeah, just like that. a little slut begging to be fucked full, that’s all you are, right? and no one knows how to give you what you want but me.” every whine, moan of your voice, every time your walls tighten around his digits, it strokes his ego and keeps him giving you more, more, more.

when the coil in your body is so close to finally snapping, he rips his hand from you. it’s a moment of devastation only, until you feel his hand, soaked in you, clasping around your other thigh and dragging it over his shoulder too. then his tongue is back in you, drinking in every bit of essence your quivering hole offers him.

when you cum, it’s with your body more sat on him than the actual chair, hands on your ass and holding you against his face as his tongue continues to work you through the electrifying feeling, nose bumping over your clit every so often. while your jaw is slacked open in a silent scream, san makes no attempt to hold back the moans and grunts ripping through his chest.

“shh, shh, i’ve got you.” he coos when he rises from under your desk, lowering your still quivering body back down onto your chair. you have half the mind to wonder if he’s a completely different man to the one who’d been buried between your thighs minutes ago, as he brings up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. instead of a smirk or a scowl, he wears a smile, even when you feel his fingers dip back between your swollen folds.

“mr. choi, i need a break first-”

“shh, it’s okay.” and you believe him, as he retracts his hand and brings it up to your mouth, commanding you to open it. your eyes flutter shut as your mouth wraps around his fingers, tasting yourself all over them. “so pretty, aren’t you?”

you can only nod, so relieved he gave you what you wanted even though you’d stopped reading. you’re unsure how long he lets you sit there with his fingers in your mouth but him removing them brings you back into the room instantly. coating your cheek in your own spit-mixed cum as he cups it, he leans down to place a kiss on your neck.

“i need to go make a quick call but, when i come back, i expect you to be naked on your bed, ass up and face down.” this time it really is nothing but a whisper, yet you hear him loud and clear.

“why?” it seems like a silly questions to ask, when you already know exactly why he wants you in that position.

“you didn’t think i was really going to let you get away with talking back to me, did you?”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on. 

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

[deeranger]

Armed & Dangerous

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester 

Warnings: Gun!kink, gunplay, established Wincest, mild violence, hints of dubcon but it’s totally consensual, questionable ways of resolving pent-up frustration, no actual sex       

Word count: 500 exactly

Summary: Dean is cleaning his gun when Sam’s attitude finally makes him snap... But it doesn’t at all go the way he expects. And he’s about to discover something new about his little brother. 

A/N: This is for @impala-dreamer​‘s drabble challenge. I picked SPN and the prompt “weapons”. And hey, this time I actually managed to keep the WC at “only” 500!? *Gasp*  Also, there’s a Part 2! 

The white cloth drags over the barrel of the Colt handgun, wiping at the oil residue and specks of dirt staining it. Sam’s eyes are following every move of Dean’s capable hands as he cleans his gun, brows furrowed in concentration. Sitting on one of the beds in the motel room, Dean shoots Sam a brief glance when silence seems to drag out a little longer than usual. Sure, they’ve been butting heads a lot lately, but usually that doesn’t equal any of them being silent. Not like this, anyway.

“What?” Dean says, lifting his gaze for half a second to eye his little brother up and down.

“Nothing,” Sam just says. His voice sounds a little strained, a little tight in his throat. Clearly, he’s lying. 

Puzzled and suddenly annoyed, Dean fixes his gaze on him again:

“Seriously, dude, what’s your problem?” he spits and tosses the oily rag at the floor at Sam’s feet. And that’s it. All of the pent-up frustration they’ve both been bottling up comes pouring right out, all puffed-up chests and clenched fists. But Sam doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even retaliate when Dean smacks him against the wall, back first. The almost-clean gun is still in Dean’s hand, poking at the wallpaper when he slams his forearm across Sam’s throat:

“You know, I’ve just about had it with you!” Dean snarls, fed-up with his brother’s constant brooding and bitchy attitude. He expects Sam to cock back his fist and deliver a punch, expects him to start fighting. But instead, all he gets is heavy breathing and… And why are Sam’s pupils suddenly blown huge like this?

“Wha…?” Dean begins, but immediately trails off when he notices the unmistakable hardness tenting his brother’s jeans.

“What the hell, Sam?” he says, pulling back a little. As he does, the gun lightly brushes against a tense shoulder, the barrel slipping across Sam’s flannel shirt as Dean lets his arm fall back down.

His little brother’s reaction is instant: A thin noise escapes him, a guttural sort of whine that hitches in his throat. Oh... So, that’s what this is? Incredulous, Dean feels his own throat go tight, his breathing suddenly speeding up. Well, this is new.

“You like this, huh?” he hears himself rasp just as he presses the muzzle of the gun against Sam’s throat. There’s a gasp, a tiny flinch – and definitely a roll of his little brother’s hips.

“Jesus…” Dean says under his breath, pulse skyrocketing. And then he lets the gun trail along Sam’s jawline, cool metal grazing stubble and feverishly hot skin. As he drags the barrel across a slightly quivering bottom lip, a pink tongue darts out to lick at the weapon. Dean feels like he’s just been punched in the gut - yet, his dick practically jumps.        

“Open your mouth…”

Sam downright whimpers. Still, his lips part in an open invitation.

“Want you to clean it for me,” Dean whispers and slides the gun’s barrel into his brother’s mouth.