#anyway i don’t think i should get in the habit of filling my tags with nonsensical rants so drink water n shit bye | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

veronicaphoenix · 3 months

Text

Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Part Two | Words: 14k

Tags & trigger warnings: threesome, p in v (protected and unprotected), oral sex (both receiving), anal sex, use of sex toys, ice play, slight bondage, blindfolding, fluff, comfort, angst, and a lil bit of drama?

Author's note: I cannot for the sake of the universe write anything short. This has been a problem of mine since I was in school lol. I'm sorry if this feels rushed at parts, tho. I didn't want to delay any longer and it's not beta read. I might do some changes in the future. Anyway, buckle up! This is going to be a wild ride! (Also, thank you to everyone for the support on this! It means a lot <3 I'm sad 'cause we're not getting any more oliver!noah content).

INTO THE ABYSS OF BAD HABITS — PART TWO

I let out a sigh as Alana kept looking at me as if my anguish amused her. It had been nine hours since I sent the text. Oliver had replied with three giant big smile emojis, while Noah had kept it as simple as per usual with a simple “good” that made my stomach swirl.

“Could you please not talk about this to anyone?” I asked Alana, my eyes casting furtive glances around the shop to make sure nobody had caught into the topic of our conversation. It appeared that of late, I was constantly evading prying eyes, as though I was orchestrating someone’s murder.

“I won’t, of course,” she assured me, waving a hand in the air to dismiss the matter. “It’s none of my business.”

“It’s somewhat…” I hesitated.

“I understand. People are still stuck up with traditional ideas and stuff. Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

“It’s not a secret,” I corrected her. “But I rather keep this private. The guys have an image to maintain and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“I don’t think you should worry about that. After all, I’m pretty sure given the way they’ve been looking at you since the tour started they couldn’t care less about their image. Besides, it’s their job to manage those things. Leave it to them to sort out their image. You do you and enjoy your trip.”

I let out another sigh followed by a smile.

“Seriously, get it” Alana insisted, gesturing towards the cute lingerie set. It was certainly the cutest thing I had found in the entire mall, and I knew Noah would love it. Despite his feral demeanor in stage and in bed, he loved all things cute and adorable. It was some kind of kink —among all the others he had—, but I wanted Oliver to like it, too. I hadn’t spent enough time with him to know which things exactly turned him on and off, and this time it wasn’t just about Noah. I wanted to please them both. “It’ll drive them crazy. More than they already are. And if they weren’t joking when they discussed every thing they’ve got planned for tonight, if I was you I would take a trip down to the spa at the hotel and relax for a while.”

As the bartender in the club filled my glass, all I could think about was Noah and Oliver on that stage, the way they had moved around each other, performed in a synchronized rageful performance to deliver an ecstasy to the public. I could only think the ecstasy that was waiting for me back in the hotel room.

I handed a ten pound bill to the bartender and thanked him after grabbing the glass.

I turned around, making my way back to the dance floor where the girls were having fun. It didn’t take me long to spot Oliver not far from where I was standing.

Under the lights and the music, he looked extremely good in faded denim jeans and a black Cannibal Corpse t-shirt. He was caught up in a conversation with Lee and another guy that I remembered as their tour photographer. He was occupied, his mind somewhere else, but I couldn’t help the heat pooling down between my legs at the idea of having him all to myself that night again; that I would taste him, that I would drown in his scent as he fucked me in any way he wanted. The best part? Whenever I would look to the other side, I would find Noah, waiting for his turn.

Now that I was adamant on my decision, I was hungry for them.

I started swaying to the music, hoping it would take away some of my anticipation. I sang, and laughed, and danced, thinking that I was doing it just for fun when deep down, I couldn’t lie to myself. Every move was meant for the two men. I was dying to catch their attention, to draw their gazes toward the dancefloor where I was standing, clad in a tiny black backless dress and same color high heels.

As if sensing my thoughts, Noah entered my line of sight. Contrary to Oliver, he was standing by the bar counter on his own, facing me, leaning on an elbow, the cap he had worn during the performance with Bring Me the Horizon still on his head, and a similar turtleneck shirt covering his torso.

A lonely wolf.

His intense stare was fixed on me. He had been eyeing me the whole time, watching me with a hawk-like intensity. There was a dark tone in his eyes that I’d never seen before. It was as if he was sizing me up, preparing to pounce and consume me whole. I immediately felt a sense of inhibition, a part of me tempted to shy away, but the pulsating rhythm of the music discouraged me from doing so.

I didn’t want to back off.

I swayed gracefully, succumbing to the subtle cadence of a Måneskin song that seeped through the speakers. As the seductive beat of the music coursed through my veins, I began to move with more fervor, swaying my hips sensually to the pulsating bass. My fingers traced invisible patterns in the air, a teasing prelude to the seduction that would follow. The song, with its raw and electrifying energy characteristic of the Italian rock band, fueled my movements.

I conveyed my desire for Noah as I moved, my body a mesmerizing silhouette. As the chorus of the song reached its peak, I used every beat to accentuate my movements. I could see his restraint, a subtle tic in the muscles of his jaw beneath the shadows cast by his cap and the flickering lights of the club.

Then, he was walking towards me, confident long steps. His magnetic presence drew the attention of some of the people around. He was fucking alluring, there was no denying, but despite of it, his eyes remained solely focused on me.

I swallowed.

The air thickened around as he circled me until he was positioned right behind me, his whole body engulfing mine.

“You’re testing my patience,” he said. The softness and delicacy of his tone rivaled his emotions and intentions.

Well, that’s what you get for making me cry, I thought. Instead, I said, “I don’t want you to have any with me tonight.”

“You better watch that mouth, or you’ll get what you want,” his breath burned against my neck.

Before I could formulate a response, Noah had already walked away, leaving me yearning for his touch and his threat, my skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, the spot between my legs damp.

One day I would just tie him to the bed and have my way with him, give him a taste of his own medicine.

My expression must have amused the other man that was eyeing me, Oliver, because immediately I heard his grave laugh behind me.

“He’s got it bad,” he sang, his hands quickly finding my hips.

“You think?” I asked back, looking up at him from over my shoulder. I took another sip of my drink.

His green eyes fell on me and I suddenly felt dizzy. The dancing and the images of what could unfold tonight had me on the brink of losing myself. His gaze was piercing. I wanted to reach up to him, grab him by the neck and pull him towards my mouth, taste the drink he’d been engulfing in. The stubble on his face and his hard facial features made it really hard to resist the urge.

His thumb found my bottom lip and he pulled at it.

“I know because he’s not the only one feeling like that.”

He didn’t say it, but it was obvious that the thoughts running through his mind in that moment weren’t very holy.

“I think it’s time we get out of here,” he decided, releasing my lip. “I don’t think I can stand seeing you move like that another minute and not taking you to the restrooms and fucking you senseless.”

“Don’t hold back on my account,” I conceded, taking a step closer to press my body against his.

“Not here,” he replied, moving some wild strands of hair out of my hair and taking the glass from my hand a moment later. “Noah is waiting outside. He’s as hungry as I am, so we better go.”

It took me a few seconds to nod. He gave the half empty glass to a passing waiter carrying a tray. Taking Oliver’s hand, I trailed behind him as we stepped outside. When the exit doors opened, the crisp night air greeted me, causing me to slightly shrug my shoulders and shiver. Oliver was quick to notice, passing me his jacket. I put it on, feeling utterly small inside the large piece of clothing.

Noah was standing by a wall to the left of the brick building, one foot propped up against it, hands tucked in his sweatpants pockets. He looked terribly good, like a bad boy taken out from romance novel.

When he looked at me, I knew there was no turning back. I tightened my hold on Oliver’s hand and followed the boys into the taxi that was waiting to take us back to the hotel.

I held my breath the entire ride back home and then in the elevator. I can’t recall feeling more anguished any time in my entire life.

The hallway was empty, immersed in the quietude of the late night. The muted lights casted a warm glow around us, and the carpet underfoot absorbed the sound of our footsteps. We stopped in front of my room. I turned around, cheeks flushed and heart threatening to come out of my chest.

“Can I have a few minutes alone? I would like to… change into something a little bit more revealing.”

“More revealing than this little black dress?” Oliver questioned, eyeing me up and down.

I nodded, my eyes traveling to Noah. He hadn’t said a word since we left the club, but he had made sure to make the taxi drive back to the hotel a hell of a journey.

I had sat between both in the backseat. As soon as the vehicle started moving, Noah’s hand found my thigh. When I looked up at him, his gaze was fixed on the passing landscape beyond the window. He fingers ventured closer to the spot between my legs. I glanced panickily at the driver. Fortunately, he was too focused on driving. I wanted to protest to Noah, but, as if he could sense my words coming, he grabbed my flesh and squeezed. Not enough to hurt me but enough to warn me. Oliver, meanwhile, made his intentions clear by moving his jacket down my shoulder with his smirk and his hushed dangerous laugh. He spent his time with one arm around me, his fingers caressing my bare shoulder. Occasionally, he would press a kiss to my hair and mumble some sweet and nasty words that had me flushed from head to toe.

I was holding my breath as if I was under water during the elevator ride up to our floor. I’m not sure if it had been their intention, but they backed up at the end of the squared box and left me to stand in front of them for a whole minute. Their gazes were so hot that they got me sweating at the idea of their eyes looking me up and down and thinking of all the nasty things they were going to do to me in less than five minutes when they had me naked in the bed.

Pretending not to care and using the only courage that I could gather, when the doors slid open, I let Oliver’s jacket slid seductively down my shoulders. I swayed my hips to the sides as I walked through the hallway with purposeful strides. Then I removed the jacket completely and handed it to Oliver without uttering a word.

The look on their faces? Oh yes, they were fighting hard to keep their primal instincts in check. Good for me, they would unleash themselves in the next few minutes.

“Of course you can, doll” Oliver said then to my request.

I looked at Noah. He nodded, encouraging me to go inside. There was still something guarded about him, about the way he kept looking at me and at the same tried to avoid my gaze when it became too much.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time,” Oliver replied.

I opened the door of the room and turned back to give Oliver the card key. I stole once last look at them before slipping into the room.

Alone, I stood against the door, their lustful gazes imprinted on my mind. Oliver’s eager playfulness. Noah’s hunger.

I filled my lungs with a deep breath before hurrying to the bathroom, where I had left the bag containing the lingerie set.

I changed as quickly as I could, my hands trembling and my fingers failing me when I wanted to clasp the bra because all I could think about was that I had two men waiting outside my door; two men waiting to touch me, taste me, fuck me.

I hung the dress in one of the hooks behind the door and looked at myself in the mirror, checking my face, my hair, and my body.

I had never felt too sexy, only on special occasions. It’d been hard to find someone that appreciated these things, the little details of buying something not only for yourself but to impress them.

I took one more minute to compose myself, relax. I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.

Ready, I climbed on the bed, kneeled on the mattress, and quickly typed a text in the group chat letting them know they could come in. I tossed the phone onto the bedside table after putting it on silent and waited with my knees pressed together and my hands resting on my bare thighs.

The room was cold, but I knew the temperature was just about to increase.

The moment they came in, the heat of their bodies filled the space.

Oliver let out a whistle.

“We’re in for a treat, man,” he slapped Noah in the chest with the back of his hand as his eyes racked me up and down. He left a bag that I hadn’t seen before on top of the desk without looking away from me.

Oliver extended his arm, inviting me to him with the offer of his hand. “C’mere. Let me see you.”

I rose from my seat and stood up in front of him, feeling a mixture of self-consciousness and a newfound allure.

“Did you wear this just for us?”

I nodded, sharing that I picked it up that morning at the mall.

Oliver responded with a smirk. “You know how to spoil us, huh?”

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“Do I like it?” Oliver seized my wrist and drove my hand down to his crotch. He was already semi-hard and buzzing hot. “I think that’d be an understanding. I can’t wait to hear you scream my name,” he breathed against my neck. “You look so sexy, doesn’t she, Noah?”

Noah.

I looked at him from over my shoulder, sending a kittenish smile toward him.

“She looks like a treat waiting to be devoured,” he groaned.

My pussy clamped down.

He stood motionless, assessing me like a hawk at its pray. Then he approached me, turned me around. I removed his cap and let it fall on the floor, his short brown locks falling over his face. He grabbed my jaw without too much pressure, he lifted my head and his mouth found mine. The kiss was slow but heated, a message to convey everything he wanted and more. His mouth was a warm haven. His lips were silky, and his taste; minty. He dazzled my senses as he slid his tongue inside and dominated everything he touched. I could feel Oliver’s heat emanating from his broad body at my back. Two seconds later, one of his hands caressed my hip and slid down the curves of my ass. A slow burn. He eased me against him, my back to his chest, and his erection nudging me.

I barely had time to react with hot shock and a blistering curl of desire in my belly before Noah’s fingers tangled in my hair and he dragged my gaze back to his brown eyes.

A kiss was pressed to my neck, —Oliver—, where my pulse was increasing.

This is going to go fast, I thought. They’re not going to waste any second.

Their restraints were weakening, and I felt powerful, like a goddess. Couldn’t believe I was able to do that to not only one man, but two.

“You should decide a safe word before we start,” Noah suggested, pulling away and licking his lips.

“Am I going to need it?” I asked, a hint of cockiness in my tone.

“It’s not my intention,” Noah assured me, gently touching my chin, “but you should have one.”

“Okay. Umm…”

It was hard to focus with Oliver’s mouth still peppering kisses all over my shoulders. He looked at me from the side.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked.

My smile widened.

Why did I feel so confident? Why did I feel that this was meant to be; that it was right where I was supposed to be?

“Can it be ‘antivist’?” I proposed.

Oliver snorted. I was trying to break the ice. Truth was, I was very nervous and a little bit scared despite my courage and the way I was managing my behavior. I had never been with two men, much less with two men like Oliver and Noah, tall, muscled tattooed guys that knew what they wanted and could get very dominant, especially Noah with whom I had had my fair share of experiences.

“This is serious,” Noah reprimanded.

“What’s wrong with it?” I questioned.

“‘Antivist’ is fine,” Oliver concluded. Here we go again, I thought. Noah striving for a cold, macho attitude while Oliver was exactly doing the opposite with his laid-back, playful vibe.

“The moment the word leaves your lips, we stop, yeah?” Oliver clarified.

I nodded.

“Get back on the bed,” Noah instructed, patting me gently on my ass cheek to encourage me.

I obeyed him. By the desk, Oliver emptied the bag he had brought in and two boxes of condoms, lube, silky rope, a black mask, and other small packages spilled on the surface. Oh, my.

“What have you planned?” I asked sweetly, settling, my moves subtle as a cat’s slow walking.

Noah’s lips quirked into a little smile. Finally.

“Tonight’s about you, but we don’t want you to spoil the surprise. You’re going to have to trust me. And Oli.”

“Alright,” I shifted on my seat, impatient, excited, my hair falling over my back and chest. Oliver moved it over my shoulders when he came to stand at my side, his fingers felt like fire on my skin.

“Why don’t you lay down for us, doll?”

I laid down on my back, tempted to bend my legs and keep my knees together. I knew that would only piss Noah so I lay still, legs flat, hair haloing around my head.

“Good girl,” Noah praised.

Oliver’s fingers traced a path in my thigh, making me get goosebumps. “So beautiful.”

It was intimidating to see them from my position. Their presence was both thrilling and overwhelming. As they loomed above me, I became acutely aware of the vulnerability of my position. Yet, there was also a sense of liberation flowing through me as I acknowledged that, for one night, I could let go of everything and enjoy every second of the pleasure that awaited me. The bed beneath me felt both a sanctuary and an arena.

Noah excused himself for a few seconds only to come back holding something in his hand that I couldn’t see. He stood on one side of the bed, leaning in.

He bent down so that his face was leveled with mine as Oliver’s fingers continued their tantalizing dance on the sensitive skin of my legs, creating a symphony of sensations.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Noah, my voice hushed. I was aware that perhaps this wasn’t the most opportune moment for such a question. Yet, there was no other time, and Oliver was already in on this ride. I just wanted to make sure Noah was truly okay with this and that he wasn’t doing it just to please me at the expense of his suffering. I wanted him to enjoy this, too.

“Yes.”

I raised an eyebrow, my skepticism obvious.

“You’re going to have to convince me,” I told him.

“Oh, trust me. I will,” his tone shifted, a smirk playing on his handsome features. “Lift your head,” he instructed. “I’m going to blindfold you.”

He showed me the mask, letting it dangle from one of his fingers just above me. My eyes must have told him that the idea was not very welcome because immediately he said in a whisper: “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You said you trust me, right? That hasn’t changed?”

“No,” I affirmed, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I promise you’re going to enjoy this.” With that, the black mask covered my eyes. “I will, too. We’re going to have a fucking great time, kitten.”

Noah’s minty breath lingered over my lips. His tone had changed. I was familiar with that minx mixture of gentleness and danger.

“You look fucking delicious in this,” his hand found the skin on my tummy and pressed lightly as he wandered down, his fingers adding fuel to the fire burning inside of me. The sensation of his digits moving slowly over my body at the same time as Oliver’s roamed my thighs made my breath hitch. “But we’re going to take it off you in less than five minutes.”

“Hell yeah,” Oliver agreed.

That was their last promise before Noah’s fingers reached the hem of my panties and stopped there, leaving me yearning for more. I could feel him analyzing me, my expression, the way my body reacted.

He was back. The Noah I knew: my friend and my lover. He didn’t know how much our argument had affected me, but if he continued in this behavior tonight, if he played his cards right, I’d let the past behind.

Suddenly he gave a gentle slap to my pussy, and I couldn’t contain a moan.

Oliver’s laugh echoed in the room. Before I could drink in the sound, one of his hands slid from my legs to my rib cage and then straight up until he enveloped one of my breasts in his hand. He fondled it for a few seconds as I awaited Noah’s next move.

“This feels nice,” Oliver’s voice said, “but I know exactly how nicer it feels when these pretty tits are uncovered.”

A male hand slid under my back. I arched to give them access, and keeping up with the promise, in less than five seconds my bra was unclasped with a single pinch of Noah’s fingers. The straps were slowly peeled off from my shoulders, and I couldn’t tell if it had been Noah or Oliver. Maybe both. The heat of their bodies was right on top of me. The scent of their masculine perfumes surrounding me, intoxicating me.

One of them grabbed the garment from the little space between the two cups and gently pulled. I moved my arms to help the bra come off my chest. A moment later I was topples, my nipples already erect but hardening even more at the cold air.

I knew this was going to be fast, but I wasn’t prepared for Oliver’s quick pinch with his thumb and forefingers, and I screamed, desire jolting me and spreading down to the spot between my legs. He rubbed it between his fingers as I started shifting on the bed, my lips parted, drying.

“She loves having her nipples played with,” Noah told him. “She’s super sensitive there.” His fingers found my left nipple and he grazed it, a ghostly touch. “I made her come once by merely lapping at them.”

I flushed at the memory and the fact that he shared that with Oliver. I thanked the mask I was wearing, otherwise I would have covered my eyes with a hand.

Noah, always so perceptive, must have sensed my embarrassment. Maybe my whole body was flushing.

“There’s no room for shyness tonight, kitten.”

I let out a sigh, giving up. Before I finished letting it out, it transformed into a breathy cry when Oliver’s mouth covered my right breast, his vampire teeth starting to scrap the nipple ever so gently.

He continued to lavish attention at the sensitive bud with a series of slow, tantalizing licks, followed by a firm suck and a gentle bite, all while Noah circled the bed. Next thing, his hands were on the back of my knees, pulling me towards the edge of the bed.

“These gotta come off,” he declared as his fingers played with the elastic of my panties. “They’re really cute, and I hope I get to see you wearing this again soon, but now… I don’t want anything between my mouth and your pussy.”

His bold statement made me breath his name out. Oliver’s relentless torment showed no signs of slowing down, either. The intensity of the experience felt like a thrilling ride, and we were just strapping ourselves in.

Noah’s hands ventured to my belly. His fingers traced a fiery path along my ribcage before descending again. In a swift motion, he pulled my panties down and through my feet, discarding them on the floor.

One of his fingers ran along my folds, taking in the slickness that already covered me. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more and I wanted it now.

“Do you want Noah’s mouth on your pussy, doll?” Oliver said to my ear. The moment he pulled away from my breast I missed the touch of his tongue, but he made sure I wasn’t left unattended as he used his fingers to keep my nipple stimulated.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes,” I said again. At this point I wasn’t sure if I had managed to utter the word or just heard it in my own head.

But Noah continued sliding his fingers up and down, avoiding my entrance. He circled my clit a couple of times, denying me of the pleasure I really wanted, until the bent down so that his lips could kiss the skin right under my navel, travel down, blow right over my clit, and then kiss it.

“Yes!”

My hips arched to him, following his touch as he retreated.

“Noah,” I cried out.

Oliver pinched my nipple, and Noah’s warning filled the room.

“Be good. You’ll get what you need. Just let me give it to you my way.”

“Take a deep breath,” Oliver’s voice was back in my ear. “He’s going to eat you out so good you’re going to forget your name, trust me.”

I hummed, suffering at the lack of Noah’s touch. Oliver kissed my cheek, my neck, then bent to trace his skilled tongue around my clamped nipples again.

“You want that, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Good. Go on,” the last two words weren’t directed at me but at Noah.

His thumb found my clit. He fondled it for a few seconds. Then he slipped a finger into me. He brushed the skin inside with want, desire, and pure need. When he pulled it out and dove it back inside, I mewled, but the sound was covered by Oliver’s demanding kiss, his fingers toying now with my other nipple. Attention was brought back to my clit with Noah’s thumb.

“You’re burning, baby,” he said.

“It feels so good…” I muttered when Oliver allowed me a moment to breath.

“You want more? You want Noah to eat your pretty pussy while you suck my cock? How does that sound?”

God, yes!

“I don’t know what you’re telling her but she just got super wet,” Noah said. “Is Oliver telling nasty things to you, kitten?

Oliver’s mouth was devouring me. I wanted to answer to Noah. Instead, I fisted Oliver’s hair in my hand and pressed his mouth deeper onto mine, his tongue and mine playing a tango inside of my mouth.

Noah took that as an answer. A moment later, he began to slide his finger in and out meanwhile rubbing my clit.

It was too fucking good, and yet, my heat kept building up, reaching new highs when Noah’s breath hovered over my pussy for a second before his mouth covered my clit and I gasped. Oliver smiled against my lips.

“How close are you, angel?” Oliver murmured. “Do you want to come on Noah’s mouth?!

I hummed frantically, and the room seemed to mirror me, an electric energy filling every corner as Noah and Oliver’s coordinated efforts continued. surrendered to the intoxicating sensations that enveloped me.

“Angel,” it was Oliver again. He nibbled at my earlobe. “I know this is not the best position for this, but I want you to suck me off while Noah eats you out. Think you can do that?”

I nodded. I wanted to taste him, too, despite being so close to my own climax as Noah’s mouth sucked and lapped at my clit and his fingers kept on playing, deliberately avoiding the spot inside of me that he knew so well.

Oliver removed his clothes, and this time I cursed the mask that kept me from admiring his inked body and his taut muscles, but specially, specially his beautiful cock.

“I’m going to move you closer.”

He maneuvered my body until it was drawn to the side edge of the bed. His knees were touching the mattress, and the scent of his dick filled my nostrils as he approached it to my lips.

“Open your mouth.”

He was big and thick. As soon as he made his way in, his weight was present on my tongue. He was right though, this wasn’t the best position, but I did my best to pleasure him and restrain myself from coming as Noah continued pleasuring me. Oliver let out a curse when my lips wrapped around him. With a hand, I grabbed his length, and I started moving my head in a rhythmic motion, trying to keep my moans from ruining my good job.

“Man, fuck, she feels amazing,” he said to Noah.

“I know,” Noah growled against my skin, sending shivers up and down my body. “She tastes the same.”

To that, my walls tightened at the second finger he slid in. A second after, he prodded that sensitive spot inside of me and plied it softly but without mercy.

“I could watch you like this all day,” Oliver murmured.

His words made me clench with helpless arousal. Then Noah stimulated my clit with a long, lagging drag of his tongue. I cried out and clutched the sheets.

“The way you scream only makes me want to taste you more, kitten.”

Was that supposed to be a warning?

“Too bad that’s not the plan.”

He withdrew, standing up. Oliver got ahold of his cock and pulled it away, one hand removing the mask from my eyes. Before my eyes fell to his hard and reddened cock, I looked at both. Noah was still fully dressed and had a dangerous smile playing on his lips, which were wet. The way he licked them while keeping his gaze locked on mine told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“You did good,” Oliver said, claiming my attention again, touching my hair. He leaned in, holding himself on one hand next to my head as he kissed me. “If you’re ok to keep going, let’s see how good you ride me.”

Without giving me too much window for thought, he moved over me to lay down on the empty space on the bed next to me. As if frozen, I just followed him with my eyes as he accommodated a pillow behind his head and pumped his cock with a hand.

“Come over, angel.”

I looked at Noah. He gestured to go forward as he threw a condom packaging to Oliver.

With Noah’s approval and Oliver’s hand working the condom down his length, I got on top of him, only to hear a stern and sudden “no” coming from behind.

My brows furrowed at Noah’s word. Behind me, he ordered to turn around.

“I want you facing me while you ride him. Let him enjoy the view of that luscious ass while you give him the ride of his life.”

“Okay,” I muttered shyly.

I had never done this: riding a man’s cock while looking at another one. The idea made me dizzy.

“You okay to go on?” Noah asked, checking my face with a little line of worry on his forehead.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Rub yourself against my cock, pretty girl,” Oliver commanded, his hands finding a place on my hips to help me guide my body against his.

He felt harder than he had been in my mouth. I looked down for two seconds just to see my folds glide against his length. The image was so erotic that I could feel a new amount of slick coming out of me. How wet can a girl get?

“That’s it. If you’re planning on killing me, you’re on the right track, doll. Now, lift your hips. I can’t wait to feel how tight you are again.”

I lifted myself, holding my weight on my knees. His tip pressed against my entrance. I was wet enough to make the journey in easy as hell. Oliver moaned as my body covered his length, inch by inch. I focused on the sound, holding my own moans as Noah held my chin high, his brown eyes demanding my gaze to remain on him.

Is this what you wanted? His eyes seemed to ask. ‘Cause we’ve got more to give you.

“Take my shirt off. Touch me. Ride him.”

Noah wasn’t one to ask the easy tasks, was he? I wasn’t one to give up without trying.

I lifted my hands to the hem of his shirt, only to be welcomed by a thrust from Oliver that made me whimper. How the hell was I supposed to focus on undressing Noah when I had Oliver moving inside of me? Guess I was bound to find out.

My hands trembled as I started to lift the cotton up, shoving the clothing up Noah’s abdomen, across his inked skin. He was as beautiful as Oliver, all those designs etched on their skins forever, as if they were works of art on their own right. I sensed Noah repressing a shiver when the shirt bunched under his arms and I yanked up, which made me rise my hips given that Noah’s height was above the average.

Oliver had been waiting for that moment to thrust in again, his cock filling every inch of me. I had missed how good he felt since the moment we had sex days ago.

“Oliver!” My head fell on Noah’s chest.

His hands found my wrists and he told me to keep going.

“Slowly. It doesn’t matter how hard he fucks you. You can hold it, I know.” There was a small reassurance in his voice as I bit my lip, my hips working on their own accord with Oliver’s body.

It was a struggle to remove his shirt off, but the moment I did I felt relieved at the touch of his bare shoulders under my fingers. One look down, and I was blessed with the sight of his bulge. If he didn’t remove his pants off soon, too, he would have a permanent mark there.

“Should I…?”

“Not yet,” Noah replied. “Hold on to me if you need to. Now move.”

“Just like you did on that dancefloor,” Oliver’s voice interceded.

I pulled Noah closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck and started swaying my hips in and up and down, a circling dance. Oliver’s sounds were music to my ears. No need for another Måneskin song or some beat in the background. His pleasure moans were all I needed, every word he uttered telling how good I felt, how good I moved around him.

I nearly bit Noah’s shoulder when he touched my clit.

I lost track of time. It was too good to be true; being fucked and touched by the two of them, praised and adored. The realization that I was walking a blade’s edge and that I was going to get hurt soon crossed my thoughts only to be buried under the pleasure I was feeling. I was going to explode.

“I think our girl here is ready to come, Oli.”

“Yes, please!”

“Come on, babydoll. It’s all yours,” Oliver encouraged.

Ecstasy ripped the sound from my throat as light, color, sensation, and heat all rushed inside of me, detonating through every nerve in my body. I jolted with an unmeasurable force, crying out so loud, perspiration making my body damp. My muscles turned as liquid as water.

“I got her,” I heard Noah say. Bless him, ‘cause I was sure I couldn’t manage on my shaking legs.

He picked up my body; one hand beneath my butt, another one at my back. I held onto him with little strength, my hands around his neck, my body limp.

While Oliver stood up, his breathing heavy, and walked to the small bin under the desk to deposit the used condom, Noah dropped down in the single armchair in the room, keeping me settled on his lap.

“You okay, doll?” Oliver asked from the other side. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. It had grown so much since I last saw him.

“Yeah. That was incredible.”

“Better than last time, huh?”“Sure you’re okay?” Noah asked then, moving my hair away from my face. I nodded. I shifted a bit to make sure I wasn’t hurting his erection. Just looking at it made me hungry again. I was still coming down from my high, but it was clear that the night had just started, and they were not done yet.

I wasn’t, either.

Noah was just pulling away from a soft kiss he had laid on my lips when I said: “Noah, I want you.”

“You’ll have me,” he promised, kissing my lips again. “Just have a little patience.”

“You said you wouldn’t have any with me tonight.”

“And I’m trying my best not to stick to my words,” he replied with a smile and a tender look in his eyes. “I want you to enjoy this as much as possible,” he continued, tracing two fingers through my jaw and to my chin. “Let me do it my way. I won’t disappoint you.”

I bit my lips, anxiety creeping in at the memory of our fight the night before.

He was moving me a moment later so that my back was settled against his bare chest and my legs spread open over his thighs. Oliver was approaching us with a determined stride.

I was sorting out the number of unholy scenarios that could unfold in the next five seconds when Noah said: “Oli, taste her.”

He fell to his knees in front of me, his eyes leveled with my pussy. I gasped at the image we were bringing to life. In this position, I was so desperately aware that my body was totally naked, wet, and at their mercy. I was seated on Noah’s lap, spread open, which meant that he could restrain me any time, whenever he pleased, while Oliver devoured me. My heart tripped over itself, beating triple time.

I was merciless.

Noah’s hand slid up from my chest to my neck, his fingers wrapping around my skin as he pulled my head back.

“Lean on me while he enjoys the feast, kitten.”

Oliver started with the skin on my inner thighs, moving slowly toward my throbbing pussy. I was a mess because I hadn’t been cleaned, and they were making it worse.

The hand of Noah that wasn’t wrapped around my neck moved to my breasts. He massaged them as he kissed my earlobe, the skin below, and my jaw.

“So fucking hungry, mate,” I heard Oliver mumble.

His mouth set on me, and I immediately fisted Oliver’s head to me while my other arm lifted to find Noah’s back hair, which I also grabbed between my fingers and pulled at as Oliver’s mouth worked on me.

“Oh, God. Oh, God.”

“Feels good, kitten?” Noah whispered in my ear. “Does he eat you out as good as I do?”

“Yes. God, Oliver, please, don’t stop.”

His tongue pressed torturously slow over my clit, the tip toying with it, nearly with more friction than I could take. This was definitely better than the first time with him, and I couldn’t get enough. He pried me open with his thumbs and stroke his tongue all the way from my hole up, up, over the hard knot that my clit was. Dizziness swept over me.

This orgasm was going to burst over me in a flash like a fireball. I couldn’t believe myself, how fast I was ready to come when I had barely put my feet back on the ground after the first orgasm.

However, not even two minutes after his feast started, Oliver retreated and Noah’s hands released the hold they had on my neck and on my breasts.

“What’s wrong?” I asked breathless, lifting my head. “Why did you stop? Noah?”

I got so caught up for a couple of minutes, trying to see the look on Noah’s face over my shoulder and ignore the aching fire in my pussy that I missed the ripping of plastic coming from the desk where Oliver had moved to and where he was standing now.

“Get off of Noah’s lap,” he instructed, his voice rough, his erection back up again. “Get on your knees and face him. Unlace him and suck him. I will tell you how.”

“O-okay.”

I followed Oliver’s word without putting up a fight, but I wanted to tell him how rageful I felt at the fact that he had done the same thing as Noah. I wanted to come in their mouths, and yet, they hadn’t let me. I knew there was another orgasm waiting for me, but couldn’t it have been in their mouths? Ugh. I yearned for them.

I situated myself between Noah’s legs, sat back on my heels, and unlaced his sweatpants and pulled them down with his help. His cock sprung free, and it was oh so beautiful. Before I could speak or even touch him with my hands, Oliver gave me a nudge on the back and Noah slid his hand into my hair, luring me down, lowering me to his waiting gorgeous cock.

“Tease him,” Oliver ordered.

Noah raised an eyebrow at him.

Taking a deep breath, I skimmed my fingers up the insides of his thighs, slowly creeping my way towards his balls. Noah moaned as I fitted a hand under his testicles, lifted and cupped them. Gently rubbing my thumb across the soft surface, I licked my lips in anticipation, and I turned my attention to the stiff length of his cock.

I ran my tongue up his length, from base to crown, finding that spot on the underside that made him gasp.

“Holy fuck, kitten.”

He shifted so that his dick could go inside of my mouth, but I moved away and sent a sly look his way.

“Soon,” I taunted.

I kissed his thighs, the tattoos there. I fluttered my eyelashes at him. Seeing him so vulnerable did things to me, even though I knew it was a dangerous game.

“You do not want to play this game, kitty,” he said as he threaded his hands in my hair, grabbing a fistful.

Oliver was watching the show over my shoulder.

“Do as I say, angel,” Oliver said. “Put your mouth on him and suck him deep until I tell you to stop.”

“Yeah, suck me.”

I did so, sucking him inside my mouth, all the way to my throat.

Noah settled in with groans and whispered encouragement, head laid back. I smiled with my lips wrapped around him when a film of perspiration broke out across his chest, and he began to fuck my mouth with measured lunges of his hips.

He was just as delicious as Oliver was. What was I going to do when the night was over?

“Keep going,” Oliver commanded, setting himself behind me. “Grab onto his thighs and lift your ass, spread your legs, doll.” Not like I had much option for he was already working them open.

I was tempted to look back, but it proved to be unnecessary when Oliver kissed his way up my back and shoulder. A sex toy appeared in my line of vision as I sucked Noah. A satisfyer.

I swallowed, and Noah groaned at the tightness of my mouth.

“Have you ever used one of this?” Oliver asked.

I pulled Noah’s cock out of my mouth with a loud ‘pop’.

“Yeah,” I admitted with a strained voice, “but I don’t think I can’t take it right now. I’m too sensitive.”

“Don’t worry. Well just try. If it doesn’t feel good, we stop. You have the word.”

I nodded. Oliver disappeared behind me again, his voice reaching me in a hushed tone next. “But Noah told me you’re like a race car: once you’re heated up, you can go on for hours. And I definitely can’t say otherwise after our night together. You gave me a run for my money.”

“Shut up,” I said holding a giggle and slapping his thigh. Noah smiled through his pleasure and his expression warmed my heart. I had been so worried about the reasons why he decided to put us into this situation but seeing him as pleased as I was eased my worries.

“You have the word,” Oliver repeated, his word a whisper. “Put him back on that sweet hot mouth of yours.”

If it doesn’t feel good, we stop, Oliver had said.

Good lord, did it feel good. So. Fucking. Good. I was a mess in less than five minutes, and I was squirming under Oliver’s touch. His free hand was playing with my left nipple as his other one increased the speed of the suction every minute.

“Don’t let her come,” Noah instructed, the cadence of his voice rough and painful. The veins on his neck were tensing up as I sucked him.

“Don’t worry, mate.”

The more aroused I felt, the more voracious I got with Noah’s cock. I moaned around his thick erection, swiping my tongue across the fat head, curling my head around the base and squeezing up. I teased the underside of his balls, traced my finger around the crown.

“Damn it.” He was sweaty and speechless. Glorious.

“Angel, wanna give him some payback? Don’t let him come.”

“Oliver, bastard. This is not what we planned.”

“Stop complaining and enjoy her mouth,” he shot back at Noah as he moved the sex toy on my clit.

“I’m not complaining.”

“Guys…” I muttered at some point, when I couldn’t take the pleasure and I had to release Noah.

Both their laughs filled my ears. Their presences chilled me to the bone and heated me up until I was about to combust. That’s what they did to me.

“Okay, doll,” Oliver called out, giving me a break and kissing the dimples in my lower back. “This is how it’s going to go. You’re not going to come until Noah does. He wants to share this orgasm with you. So, the quicker you want to come, the better you’re going to have to suck him. You ready?”

I wanted to say yes to everything, but my mouth was already full with Noah’s big, heavy length again, and Oliver had placed the satisfyer right on my clit again.

“That’s it, baby. You can take me deeper. Yes, good girl. Fuck yeah.”

One minute. I knew Noah’s cock as well as my own hand.

It took me one minute to get him to trip over the edge.

“I’m going to come. Fuuuck!”

As he spilled into my mouth, my orgasm washed over me. I pulled out, swallowing quickly. I muffled my screams on Noah’s thigh. I’m sure my nails dig hard into his skin as I held onto his thighs for dear life.

After a minute, or perhaps five, I was being lifted from the floor, my knees aching despite the carpet. Oliver carried me to the bed and settled down beside me, his hands exploring every inch of my body, delivering comforting massages while his lips left a trail of kisses here and there. His soothing voice accompanying the lingering dizziness in my head.

“I’m never letting you near me with that toy again.”

“Oh, is that a complaint?” He snorted, amused.

I couldn’t hide my smile.

“If my orgasms are just going to keep getting bigger, I might pass out in the next one. Just letting you know.”

I had never experienced more than three orgasms in an hour. The credit, of course, belonged entirely to Noah. Tonight, I had the feeling that they were determined to surpass any previous record, adding it to the fact that there were four hands, two mouths, and two cocks in the game. I was flooded with a mix of both excitement and apprehension.

“That’s not going to happen,” Noah declared.

Oliver’s lips met mine, reigniting the excitement as his hands explored my body avoiding my nipples and pussy. Noah, having recovered from his own orgasm, observed us for a moment before his arousal stirred again.

The stamina of these two was something out of this world. They were glorious on stage, but naked and sweaty, hair messed up and muscles all tense? That was something else.

As Oliver planted kisses on my belly, I noticed Noah near the desk, holding a red silk rope and playing with it in his hands.

He blindfolded me again, adding an extra layer of intensity by tying my hands above my head with the rope.

“Is it too tight?” Noah inquired.

“My pussy is,” I boldly replied, biting my lip.

“Stop tempting me and being so feisty. You know I’m going to fuck you. Your pussy won’t be that tight when we’re through with you.”

“Amen to that,” Oliver chimed in. He had left the bed to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. He sat on the bed a few seconds later and lifted my head carefully, guiding my lips to the bottle. “We need you to stay hydrated. Drink some.”

I gladly did, welcoming the reliving liquid as it poured down my throat.

“Thank you.”

“Noah.”

He passed the bottle to him, and I heard Noah gulping down water until the bottle was emptied. He threw it into the bin where Oliver’s used condom lay at the bottom.

“I was thinking…” Oliver started to say, “of tying her to the bedposts. What do you think, Noah? Should we keep the blindfold on and tie her to the bedposts? Play with her, keep her on edge for hours until she’s begging us to fill her up?

“Not a bad idea,” Noah replied, the playfulness from Oliver’s tone missing in his.

“Don’t you dare,” I mumbled, my wrists rubbing against each other due to my restraint. I was tempted to close my legs.

It was too much, being laid totally naked and wet in a hotel bed while two hot tattooed and very naked men eyed me and devoured me with their gazes. Even if my sight was restricted by the black sleeping mask Noah had put on me moments ago, I could feel their hunger in my bones.

Then, I felt Noah’s breath on my mouth.

“Watch us, kitten.”

It was a threat that made me tremble with anticipation.

“Ohh,” Oliver wailed, opening my legs wider with a hand on my knee. “Someone likes the idea,” he said, aware of my slickness. It was embarrassing.

“It’s not funny,” I whispered.

“Says the girl who chose ‘antivist’ as a safe word,” Oliver reeled in.

Noah lightly grazed my lips with his teeth.

“I could say the same thing to you about that performance you put on the dancefloor knowing that it would get my dick hard as fuck and I could do nothing about it until we had you in this hotel bed,” Noah replied, his voice hoarse.

“He’s got a point,” Oliver agreed.

“Spread her open,” Noah commanded. “What’s the time?”

“We’re good,” Oliver replied, following Noah’s words and stretching my legs as open as he could, leaving me totally accessible for whatever he and Noah intended to do. “A couple more minutes.”

“A couple more minutes for what?”

“You don’t get to ask questions tonight, doll,” Oliver reminded me.

His hands were replaced by Noah’s, and the mattress dipped at his weight. He settled right between my legs, his skin brushing mine. I wanted to touch him, but I knew better than that, so I remained still.

A hand cupped my left breast, and it amazed me how easily I could identify that touch as Oliver’s. He massaged my flesh for a few seconds before his fingers moved to my hardened nipple. I arched toward him, needing his touch, but he moved away, leaving me and Noah alone in the bed.

“I need to have you, baby,” Noah whispered.He rubbed his cock against my folds and I gasped. Yes!

Instead of entering me, he grabbed my legs, lifting them up while warming his palms to the inside of my thighs.

“I love your thighs, you know that?”

I did, but I shrugged my shoulders as he settled my ankles on his shoulders.

“You only say it when you’re lost in the pleasure.”

“Hmm.”

I wish I could read his thoughts, see what he saw when he had me underneath him, if he thought I was beautiful or something more than that, if my body drove him crazy.

Maybe he didn’t need words to convey that, but I still needed them. If he couldn’t give them to me yet, at least I wanted his body.

“Noah, please.”

He settled right where I wanted him. In one slow thrust, he was in.

“The way you feel around me… Dear God.”

“Yesss…”

“You’re so wet. Is this what we did to you?”

I nodded frantically.

“Answer me. I want to hear you,” he said, the roughness of his voice betrayed by the soft kisses he peppered down my knees and thighs. He was moving so slowly that I was about to lose my mind.

“Yes. Yes, Noah. I’m so wet because of what you and Oliver did to me.”

“Christ,” was his reply through clenched teeth. “You have no idea how much you tempt me. All the time.”

Without warning, he spread my legs apart and his body covered mine entirely, his mouth coming down to meet mine to kiss me hard and deep. He stayed still for a second, then. When I wriggled my hips, his hand pressed down my hip to kiss me still. I was not expecting his next words, at least not that night, in that situation.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you the other night.”

After processing the meaning of his words, I let out a long sigh, sinking into the mattress with his weight on top of mine.

Well, I thought, you’re definitely making up for it now.

“You don’t deserve an idiot like me,” he continued. His lips so close to mine, but he wasn’t kissing me. He was waiting.

“You’re not an idiot,” I told him softly. I wished my hands were free so that I could touch his cheek. “Well, maybe a little,” I continued with a little of sassiness.

He thrusted hard and I screamed.

“Clearly, huh.”

Clearly, I agreed. I clamped my pussy around him, knowing what it did to him. He growled and tried to go faster, harder, only to withdrew not even a minute later.

Shit.

“No, Noah. Why?”

“You’re going to make me lose it.”

“Isn’t that the point?” I questioned.

“Not exactly,” I wanted further explanation, but then he called to Oliver two seconds right before somebody knocked on the door.

I froze.

“Don’t worry,” Noah said, hovering over me. His naked body, his erection covered in my slick, so close to me again. “They can’t see us from here.”

He touched my cheek with his knuckles while I heard Oliver moving around and putting on some clothes.

He opened the door.

The minute it took him to come back had me dreading with questions and tempted to remove the blindfold. As he came back, his laugh filled the room and my ears.

“We’re going to have so much fun with you.”

“What is it?” I couldn’t help but ask when I felt Oliver setting something on the bedside table.

Noah lay a finger on my lips.

“No questions. Just feel, okay?”

A few seconds later, something cold and wet touched my chest and I cried out.

“Cold?” Oliver inquired, sliding the ice cube between my breasts.

“Fucker,” I muttered.

“Exactly. Noah, help yourself.”

No. Not the two of them, oh Go—“Ahh!”

Noah was on the other side of the bed, sat at my side, ice cube between his fingers as he traced a circle around my nipple. Oliver had slipped his to my navel, where a droplet of water filled the space of my belly button.

“Guys, please… Not this game,” I whimpered.

“What fun would we get if we listened to you?” Oliver questioned. I could tell by the direction of his voice that he was kneeled at my right side. He traced the shape of my navel as Noah drew an eight around my breasts.

“I can’t tell you how beautiful you look spread out like this for us, all vulnerable and wet.”

Noah’s words sent a shiver down my spine only to make me arch my back when his tongue traced the wet pat the ice had left on my skin.

“Such a sweet girl.” That was Oliver, his tongue having found my skin, too, now playing with my navel.

I was doomed.

I’m going to die.

“We’re not going to let that happen.”

Oh. I was so far gone I didn’t realize I had said that out loud. Had it been Oliver who said that? Or Noah?

Who cared, after all. They were both being a fucking dream. I wasn’t in the condition to think clearly, but a voice in the back of my head told me that I would never recover from this night. Not only from the physical imprint it would leave on my body with all their kissing, licking, and love biting as they played with the ice on my skin, down my belly, all over my legs, on my neck, but from the emotional damaged that I was bound to suffer.

I rejected those thoughts as I felt Noah’s tongue on my nipple, the piece of ice cube now small trapped in his mouth and touching my hard nipple whenever Noah’s tongue wasn’t flicking it.

Oliver’s large palm caressed my leg from my ankle to my hip, all the while kissing my lower belly, very close to my pussy. He sucked at the droplets of water that had filled my navel. When he was done, he picked another cube and traced the line where my pubic hair started growing, teasing me.

“Oliver… Please…”

“Because you sound so fuckin’ sweet.”

The ice touched my clit, then slid down my pussy. I couldn’t control my breathing anymore, and neither could I take hold of the cries coming out of my mouth. Noah left me nipples for a moment to check on me, asking me if I was okay.

I was, or I thought so. I didn’t know. I wanted Oliver to stop and at the same time I wanted more.

Noah removed the mask. I had tears in my eyes when his brown, comforting gaze fell on me.

“Can you take more, kitten? If you can’t, we’ll stop right there.”

Oliver lifted the ice cube from my skin, waiting for my response.

I looked down at him.

“I… I…” I closed my eyes. “I don’t think I can. It’s too much, too cold.”

“Alright,” Oliver concluded, getting up. “No more teasing. You want to come, doll?”

I turned my head on the pillow to send a pleading look his way.

“Please?”

“You’ve got it, princess.”

Dropping the nearly melted ice cube on the bucket, he bent down to kiss my lips. They were cold but he was more than welcome to never leave my side if he kept kissing me like that.

“Kitten,” Noah’s call.

“Yeah?” At that point, I couldn’t even recognize my voice. It was strained and weak.

“I want you to ride Oliver. This time facing him.”

I suddenly felt like I was back alone in a room with him, that the space that had been growing between us was there again. Why didn’t he want to share an orgasm with me? I wanted to come around his cock and wanted him to spill himself inside of me, with or without condom. I truly couldn’t care in my state of mind.

He must have seen my face because he said: “The best part is yet to come.”

Was that supposed to reassure me? Make me feel better?

“I want you to come,” I told him, regaining some self-control, if you could call it that…

“I will.”

“Inside of me. Now,” I lifted my hips towards him, who was now standing at the end of the mattress, his desire and torment obvious in the way his cock stood up, hard and red.

“No,” he shook his head, his stare steady. “That’s not how we planned it.”

“I don’t care. I want to come with you.”

“You’re not ready yet.”

He was really pushing my buttons. I didn’t want to end up fucking Oliver just for the sake of getting back at Noah. This wasn’t what I wanted the night to turn into.

“What game are you playing?” I asked him, pressing my thighs together, forbidding him from seeing me. Above my head, Oliver untied the rope and fred my hands.

“We’re just building you up for the biggest orgasm of your life, doll,” he added, sensing the building tension between Noah and me.

“So let us give it to you, and we will give you our release, too.”

I furrowed my brows at both of them, and glared at Noah before I let Oliver lay on the bed, my movements reluctant. Oliver cuddled me to his side and his green gaze softened until he convinced me. They were doing this for my pleasure above theirs. Whatever reason Noah had to being avoidant of coming undone with me yet would surface in a while.

“Let me make love to you again, sweet thing.”

Oliver helped me straddle him again. He was beautiful and looked all mine laying underneath him. I let all my worries and uncertainties fly away as I confidently put on the condom, thenn grabbed his cock in my hand and positioned it at my entry.

I sank down, feeling all of him, moaning in unison with him.

“You fill me up, Oliver,” I confided, letting myself go again.

Whatever unresolved feelings were there, occupying the room while the three of us fucked each other’s brains out, would be dealt with come morning. Not now.

“I know, sweetheart. You’re so tight on me. I wish I could keep doing this every fucking night. I wouldn’t get tired of it.”

All of a sudden, the mattress dipped behind me.

Noah.

He settled onto his knees, between Oliver’s spread legs, his thighs brushing mine.

Noah’s hand caressed the curve of my ass and, unexpectedly, two fingers delicately slipped between my ass cheeks, applying a cool liquid.

I tensed, bracing myself against Oliver’s hard abdomen.

“Noah?”

“I know,” his voice reassured, soft and calm. “I told you we would give you the best orgasm of your life. Here it comes. We’ll take it easy. I promise.”

Oh.

This meant…

A threesome, in all the sense of the word.

“But we’ve never… I’ve never…”

“I know. I want to be the first one. Will you let me?”

I took a deep breath.

Let go, the voice in my head said.

I closed my eyes and gripped Oliver’s skin. His hands were on my hips, his thrumbs tracing soothing circles.

“Yes. Yes, Noah. Please.”

“When you say it like that… Damn it. You’re going to kill me.” He placed his hands above Oliver’s. His cock rubbed my left ass cheek and I trembled.

“We’ll go slow. I’m going to slide a finger in. It shouldn’t hurt. Just realx, okay? If you feel any pain, you let me know.”

“Okay.”

Breathe in, breathe out.

“There we go…” He whispered.

When his long digit slid in and I took in the feeling of it and oliver’s cook both inside of me, I moaned.

“Feels good?” Oliver asked, staying still as a statue. The veins on his neck threatening to burst if he had to wait much longer.

“Yes. It feels… strange but good. I like it.”

“Good,” Noah encouraged. “Be honest with us, okay? Your well-being is our priority, despite what you think.”

“I know,” I cried as he moved the finger in and out, increasing the speed every seconds.

Then, he let me know he was going to introduce a second one. With both in, he stretched me, taking his time to make sure I was okay, that I was getting familiar with the intrusion.

“Can you take it, doll?”

“Yes, Oliver. God, it’s… good. I want more. Please.”

Noah kissed my shoulder, obviously satisfied with my reaction and my honest answer. I loved pleasing him. Pleasing both. I couldn’t wait to have them inside of me at the same time, feel them stretch me out and have them come undone at the same time I did.

“Do you think you can take me, baby?”

I opened my eyes and swallowed. Clearly, Noah’s cock was not the size of two of his fingers. It was much bigger, and I wasn’t experienced in anal sex at all. However, I trusted him. I trusted Oliver. I had a safe word, and they had kept on reassuring me that this would end whenever I said so.

“I want to try,” I answered, finding comfort in Oliver’s green earthy gaze. “I want to feel you. I want you and Oliver inside of me.”

“That’s a fucking honest answer, kitten,” his comment made me doubt, then he added, “I can’t wait to make it real for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he said, kissing my shoulders and my hair. He moved the wild strands to one side. The breeze making me shiver. “Hold still,” he indicated Oliver.

I felt him, then. Fingers out. Condom on. Noah’s hands parting my cheeks gently. “Take a deep breath, baby. Push down as I push in, yeah? We’re not going to let anything happen to you. This will feel good, I promise.”

“I trust you,” I breathed out, my mind filled with cotton.

“Thank you for that.”

One more kiss on my sweaty back and there it was, slick and hard against my entrance.

He pushed in a fraction, and his head entered me. There was pressure, but no pain, only the one igniting at the press of his fingers digging into my hips, which I didn’t mind. I forced myself to breathe.

“Push down, baby.”

I did. A sharp edge of pain sliced me. A couple of small thrusts that turned into bigger ones later and…

“Christ,” Noah’s voice shook my entire body. A contained groan. Below me, Oliver’s mouth was agape, as if he could feel it, too.

Noah shoved forward again, easing in another few inches, the last ones. I cried out.

“Damn it, this is fucking tight… Baby?”

I couldn’t speak. I was lost in the pleasure, holding myself in hands and knees, my palms pressing down on Oliver’s stomach. His breathing ragged. I imagined it was because it suddenly got tighter there, between my legs.

I felt Noah retreating and I wanted to whimper.

“Fuck. Oli, is she okay?”

“She’s better than okay, mate. You should see her face. This is… It just got so freaking tight.”

“Kitten, I need you to use your words and tell me you’re okay or I’m going to pull out.”

“No! No, don’t! I’m okay. I’m fine. Just— Can you go slow? I need to… get used to the both of you.”

I felt Noah untensing behind me, and slowly, very slowly, he started pushing back inside. As he sank his cock inside of me, his body leaned forward. He pressed a kiss between my shoulder blades. Another one in my shoulder. With one hand he moved my hair to one side again, the movement of his hand ever so gentle. Then, his breath was on my ear.

“You’re doing so good for us. You’re incredible.”

“Can you feel us both, doll?” Oliver’s voice mingled with Noah.

I was in cloud nine. There was pain, yes, but it had nothing to do with the waves of pleasure that were swallowing me. And we hadn’t even started moving yet.

“It’s so fucking tight.”

“Oliver, please. Noah. Move. I need it. I need you.”

“You have us, baby girl.”

“We’re all yours, princess.”

Then the friction started, and I never felt anything like it. I thought I was going to die. The first few minutes were excruciating, the burning sensation spreading through every inch of my body. The fact that I was sheltering the two of them constricted the space for each of them which made everything tighter around them and more intense for me. I had never felt so full.

“Man, I can feel your dick. This is insane.”

“I know,” Noah replied.

“Faster,” I implored.

They didn’t change the pace. When I opened my eyes, Oliver was looking at me, studying my face.

“I can take it,” I assured him, my hand sliding up his chest until my fingers found his jaw. I leaned down and kissed him. It was a sloppy kiss. Noah was moving behind me. We were covered in sweat. I couldn’t contain my moans.

At some point Noah grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up, my back colliding with his sweaty chest. In a second, I had one of his hands squeezing my breast, the other one sliding down until he found my pussy and his index finger and thumb found my clit.

I let out a cry and grabbed onto his thigh with one hand and onto his arm with the other.

“That’s it,” he growled against my hair. “Let us hear you. You’re clamping down on us and it’s so fucking good. You’re a goddess, baby. I should’ve told you before. I should’ve told you every single time I was buried deep to the hilt inside of you.”

“Noah!”

“Fuck, man. What are you saying to her? She’s tightening so much she’s gonna make me come in two seconds.”

“Don’t.” Noah told him, returning to his seriousness as he held me. “We’re going to come with her. We don’t come until she does. That was the plan.”

“I wasn’t expecting this. Angel, you’re… damn.”

Noah sent one last warning to Oliver.

A moment later, I bent down on Oliver’s body again because I couldn’t keep myself straight. He wrapped his arms around me, and Noah took the chance to grab my hips and guide me towards him as I fought to get Oliver in and out of me again.

“Oliver, God…!”

“No God, babe. Just me and Noah.”

I was going to die. Right there right then. This time for real. Yes.

“Touch yourself.”

I swear it was both of them speaking their voices giving the same command. I was mastered, and I didn’t want it any other way. I obeyed. I screamed as my orgasm swallowed me whole, only as another one came rolling in as Noah’s and Oliver’s wails filled the room as they came into the condoms.

We were so fucking loud, I’m still surprised no one called to let us know that the people next door had complained about the noise.

I had tears running down my cheek as I recovered from the brutal experience I had just gone through.

When Oliver and Noah retreated, I felt as empty as ever. I wasn’t able to move. It took them a while to be able to react themselves. Only when they had regained some control over their arm and legs they managed to move me to the mattress.

They cleaned me up and placed kisses on my shoulders and belly as the other whispered how good I had been and how amazing I had made them feel. Noah asked if I was okay twice, trying hard to make my eyes focus on him. But I was too gone for that. I was okay, really, but I was left with no energy. Three orgasms, or had it been four? I had lost count when both of them pounded into me in a synchronized dance that made me experience a new whole definition of the word ‘orgasm’.

Oliver’s arms wrapped around me, tucking me against his chest. I loved the smell of him, the way his skin clung to mine. I didn’t want to let go ever.

“We’re going to have shower sex in the morning if you’re not too sore,” he whispered after pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose, “after we call room service and we feed you some pancakes and fruit. How does that sound?”

“Hmm. Too good to be true, honestly…” I muttered, falling into a slumber with a smile plastered on my lips.

Noah’s laugh warmed my entire body as he gently ran a cotton towel between my legs again.

“Let’s get you dressed, baby.”

I let them do. Between the two, they slipped a huge t-shirt on and put on some white cotton panties that Noah found in my suitcase. He ran a smoothing hand down my hair and kissed my forehead before he excused himself to the bathroom.

I fell asleep for a while, or maybe it was just a couple of minutes. I couldn’t know. I had lost track of time the moment we had entered the room long ago. When I opened my eyes, oliver was still by my side, propped on one elbow and looking down at me as if I was something worth to be adored.

He slowly leaned down, careful, and gently pressed his lips to mine. My hand found the spot behind his neck and I pulled him toward me with whatever ounce of energy I had regained while I slept.

We kissed for a while. I was in heaven cocooned in the safety of his big, tattooed arms.

Until I was suddenly overtaken by a wave of fear. I pulled away, startled, and looked for Noah only to find him coming towards the other side of the bed and getting under the covers, clad in his boxers.

I felt relieved. I slid to him when he laid down, looking for the comfort of his body. I couldn’t get enough with just one.

It was starting to dawn on me that I needed them both, and that was very dangerous.

Noah touched my hair and then my cheek. I crawled up his chest until I could feel his lips on mine. He was fresh and soft, regardless of how fierce he’d been with me a while ago. That’s what I loved about him. About Oliver. They were a combination of danger and safety that sated my needs perfectly.

Noah let me kiss him slowly, pouring into him my gratitude for this night. When I pulled away, we looked at each other as if this was the last sunset we would spend together, so I begged him not to go.

“Stay till morning?”

He grabbed my face in his two huge hands and brought his lips closer to mine.

“I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Oliver’s chest pressed against my back and he his lips kissed the side of my neck.

“Sleep now. Get some rest. You’re in good hands.”

I moved one arm back so that my hand could rest against Oliver’s thigh.

Feeling the skin of both Oliver and Noah under my hands, I took a deep breath, let out a small giggle, and lost consciousness.

The night was far from over, though.

I was deep in my sleep, head resting against Noah’s chest and one arm wrapped over his torso when I felt a hand sneaking down the covers to my pussy.

Oliver woke me up. When he was sure I was conscious and wet enough, he pulled me away from Noah and sat me astride on his lap. His cock already hard. He put on a condom. My panties off.

“Am I going to get enough of you?”

I was nearing my orgasm when I felt a third hand on my thigh and Noah’s hoarse voice reached my dizzy head.

“Hold it. I want you to come on my cock. Let Oliver get what he wants.”

I wasn’t sure I had the energy in me to do so, but Oliver’s release came soon and before I could realize I was being moved, I was in Noah’s lap, his thick length sliding inside of me and settling in a snug fit.

“Lay on me,” he instructed seeing how energiless I felt.

I hid my face in the croak of his neck. Beside from his perfume he smelt like Oliver, all man and sex.

“Let me know when you’re getting there. I’ll follow you,” he whispered in my ear. He bent his legs and started thrusting, a deadly cadence.

Oliver had left the bed to clean himself up and drink some water. When he returned, I was laying powerless on top of Noah, no ounce of energy left in me. Noah’s hands were roaming up and down my back, his lips kissing my hair.

I peered at Oliver from under my eyelashes. I felt so used and satisfied. No wonder whatever minutes or hours I had got of sleep felt like the best I’d had in a very long time.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be up early for soundcheck?”

“Are you in a rush?” Oliver joked.

“Why are you so concerned?” Noah asked, caressing my cheek with his tattooed knuckles.

“I can spend the whole day in bed, which I will, but you two need to get up early and… I don’t even know what time it is, but I’m guessing early?”

“Well, not every night we get a sweet thing like you in bed so,” Oliver was back in bed, and I felt full and stuffed with joy as he snuggled against me and Noah. “Don’t worry about us. How are you feeling?”

“Super sore and spent, but I’m… surprisingly happy and good.”

Noah smiled against my hair and his arms tightened around me for two seconds before he let go.

“Come here,” Oliver encouraged.

That was Noah cue to get up, remove the condom, and visit the bathroom.

I laid down with one of my legs on top of Oliver’s, my head on his chest, getting accustomed to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat under his skin, a lullaby I could fall asleep to.

“What am I going to do when you go back to the States?” His whisper reached my bones, making me get goosebumps. I was suddenly scared, my stomach felt empty, and my heart…

I lifted my head and put a hand over his mouth.

“Let’s not talk about it.”

As we held each other’s gaze, I knew that the conversation would have to happen sooner or later. It was not something I looked forward to, much less to the day in which I’d have to get back on a plane and cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. Before they could, Oliver seized my wrist to move it away from his mouth. His huge hands cradled my cheeks, and he brought my face to his, his mouth kissing me deeply.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled very softly against my lips.

The bathroom door opened, and Noah came back, running a hand through his brown locks. The sweet smile on his lips made the knot on my stomach tighter. I made grabby hands to him, and he gladly occupied his spot on the left side of the bed.

I had one hand on Noah’s chest and the other on Oliver’s.

Mine, a voice in my head screamed.

“Oli, can you remind Noah that he promised to be here in the morning?”

“I’m going to tie him to the bed with that silky rope he brought. He’ll be here. Don’t worry.” Our voices were a whisper in the dark silent room.

“What was that?” Noah inquired, his arm wrapping around my naked back and tracing sweet patterns on it. I desperately needed a shower, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed. “Did I hear somebody wants to get tied up again?”

I whined.

“I’m tired.”

“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” he said, kissing my hairline. “Otherwise, I’d get you back on all fours, push your head down the mattress, and fuck that sweet little pussy again.”

“Brute,” I mumbled.

Oliver’s laugh shook me as I rested on him.

Funny how things turn out.

I wasn’t sure what woke me up. It wasn’t the sun because it was 6am when I opened my eyes again. It was dark outside. And cold. Inside the room, however, it was warm. As I shifted, I realized I was trapped between two large male, tattooed bodies, and that a sweet pain had settled between my legs.

Maybe it was the soreness that woke me up. Or the irresistible desire and need to see their faces again. I had dreamed of them while they slept on each of my sides. What’s that they say about reality being better than dreams? Well, I got everything. A wonderful reality and then dreams about it. It couldn’t get any better than this.

Noah was sleeping on his back, his head angled towards me, partially obscured by my hair. I spent a while savoring the details of his features, his perfect nose, the slender lips, the subtle growth of stubble along his jawline and above his upper lip. He was not a kid anymore. He was all grown up and pure man. I was tempted to trace a finger on his eyebrow, but I feared waking him up. He looked so peaceful, and he definitely needed that sleep.

What mattered the most was that he hadn’t broken his promise. He was still there, laying in the same bed where we had made love, one arm wrapped around me, his expression soft and sweet.

I dared to press a light kiss to his cheek and turned to the other side, my eyes filling with joy at the sight of Oliver on his stomach, his head also angled toward me, mouth slightly open, hair falling over his eyes. He was mesmerizing even in that state. I noticed a small red spot on his jaw. I remembered biting him while him and Noah were fucking me at the same time, I just didn’t think it would leave a mark.

I kissed it better.

As I moved above him to get up from the bed, I heard my name leave his lips in a questioning tone.

“Bathroom,” I hushed back.

He let go, mumbling something and settling his head back down on the pillows.

When I stood in front of the mirror after peeing and washing my face, only clad in my cotton panties and Oliver’s Cannibal Corpse t-shirt, I noticed a similar red spot on my thigh. It wasn’t one, but too many. Red and purple splotches covering me from head to toe, love bites that, as I lifted the t-shirt, revealed themselves. They went from my thighs to my neck, some of them on my breasts and others on my hips.

I was about to smile when a ray of sunshine entered from the thin blinds in the bathroom window, illuminating my side.

A new day, a new… me?

I tiptoed out of the bathroom, insecurity clinging to me like a second skin.

Instead of crawling back to the warm spot between Noah and Oliver tempting bodies, the comfy thick bedsheets calling to me, too, I stood there, watching the men.

My boys.

What had I done?

I couldn’t contain the fear that surged within me, threatening to swallow me whole.

This wasn’t how things worked, getting fucked by the men you admired the most and then carrying on with life as if nothing happened. This wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t fix me and Noah, and it would definitely fuck Oliver and I because… Because this hadn’t just been a mind-blowing fuck. This had been much more, and I’d be lying to myself if I said it hadn’t.

Every single emotion and feeling that filled me up during the night was gone. I felt empty. I felt guilty. I had brought this upon us. I had been the one to ask for it. I had put Oliver into this crazy mess when he had made it clear the first night we slept together that we were just friends having fun. Now it was obvious we were beyond that. The way his eyes pleaded to me after he asked me what would happen when I flew back home… My heart started breaking.

Then, there was Noah, who would have never ever considered sharing his girl. I had forced him on this despite his attempt at opening up to me the night we argued. How clear his stance had been… How jealous at the thought that Oliver had had me to himself, alone in his hotel room.

And yet, I didn’t care, and he was so good, so good to me, that he had chosen my desire over anything, no matter how much it cost him.

I was in pieces. They would be too, when they opened their eyes.

Despite Noah’s promise of being by my side come morning, I was the one that failed to keep her words. I gathered an outfit from my suitcase, my boots, my phone, ignore the ache between my legs, the memory of being sat on Noah’s lap on the armchair, his hand around my neck, Oliver on his knees, his mouth on me.

I aimed toward the door.

I dared to steal one last glance at my boys from the threshold.

My gorgeous boys.

I promised myself I would never hurt them this way again. It wouldn’t matter how much I craved them, their bodies, their scents, their kisses, their hearts… It wouldn’t matter how much they tried to convince me that I was wrong. I wouldn’t hurt them again.

I wiped a tear that slid from my eye and silently left the room.

PART THREE

Taglist:

#noah sebastian #oliver sykes #noah sebastian x reader #oliver sykes x reader #oli sykes x reader #noah sebastian x you #oliver sykes x you #oliver sykes fic #noah sebastian fic #bmth #bring me the horizon #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bmthr fanfiction #oliver x noah x reader #oliver sykes smut #noah sebastian smut

252 notes · View notes

dogmomwrites · 1 year

Text

Find the Words!

This tag came from @menagerie-of-monsters, so thank you for the tag! I'm gonna pass it along with soft tags to @monstrousfreedom, @sleepyowlwrites, and @regalserpent, as well as an open tag for anyone else who wants to join!

Your words will be flower, panic, shift, and witness. If you can't find one, leave a fun fact about your WIP, OCs, or writing process!

My words were silent, star, stop, scar, and surround. These excerpts were taken from yet another WIP without a name (RIP that WIP lmao)

Silent Derek placed one finger on his lips and he fell silent instantly. “Don’t even start that.” His face was dead serious, a slight frown creasing his brows. “I’m not a kid, you just said that. We’re adults. We can make decisions for ourselves. If I want to fall for someone nine years older than me, then dammit, I will. If I want to fall for someone nineteen years older than me, then dammit, I’ll just go and do that.” He paused to drive Karl crazy by slowly licking his lips. “Yeah, I had some wine. Yeah, I’ll admit I’m a little bit of a lightweight. But no, I’m not drunk, and I’m definitely not so drunk as to get sloppy with the first guy I see. I usually save that for when I’m sober.”

“You—”

He cut him off with a kiss. A gentle, tender kiss. No tongue, just a quick pressing of lips. “Go. I’m a big boy, I can wait.”

“You fell for me?” Karl asked, feeling more dazed than he probably should.

Derek let out a soft, awkward laugh. “You caught that, did you?” He was starting to blush again, but instead of saying anything else, he just shoved Karl out the door and shut it in his face.

Karl stared at the door for a moment. “You fell for me?” he repeated quietly, though Derek could no longer hear him. That was not at all how he’d expected the night to go.

Star He was staring. Derek had to wave his hand in front of Karl’s face before he jolted out of his thoughts, which had quickly turned inappropriate.

“Hello? Earth to Karl.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Karl to Earth, I’m on Earth.” Why did he say the things he said? “We need to get out of here, find somewhere safe.”

Stop He saw Karl and stopped, panting. As often as he had to chase the bus, one would think he’d lose a little weight, but it looked like he’d actually gained some since last week. “Hiya, Mister Odin!” he wheezed.

“Hey, Quinn,” Karl said good-naturedly. In every way possible, Quinn reminded him of Chunk from the Goonies movie. Maybe that was why he liked him.

“Watering your flowers?”

Karl stood in his front yard, hose in hand. The water sprayed in a gentle mist over the bed where several kinds of flowers grew—irises, tulips, jonquils, petunias, pansies, and a few he didn’t know. “No, I’m hunting elephants.”

Scar Slightly embarrassed, Karl kissed him. He felt like a kid the way he was leaning over the rails, but he felt Derek’s smile, and that made everything okay. “I love you. Wait.” He felt the frown against his lips.

“Wait?”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean that.”

“What?”

“Shit.” Karl put his head in his hands to hide his face. “I meant it. I did. I just didn’t mean to say it. I messed it all up—”

“Why not?” Derek asked, interrupting before he’d even finished speaking.

“What?”

“Why not say it?”

He frowned, confused. “It’s too soon.” His frown deepened. “Isn’t it?” Things had always moved a little quicker for him than for most people, or so he’d been told. His habit of forgoing the filter between brain and mouth had scared off as many relationships as it had sped up.

Surround Don’t have this word in this WIP, but tbh it’s under 10k, so I’m a little surprised this was the only one I didn’t have. Anyway, onto the little fun fact!

This drivel was technically based on a dream I had when I was around 16 or 17, but hadn’t actually gotten to the part that was in the dream. I wrote a couple short chapters to fill in the blank lead-up scenes…and then I kinda forgot about it. Whoops?

Lately I’ve been struggling to find one of my WIPs to work on, as I can’t seem to settle down on anything, so I started going through some older WIPs and found this one. So that’s why you get these random excerpts! Hope nobody minds something unrelated to any of my other stuff!

#find the words #find the word tag #tag game #writer games #open tag #open to everyone #my writing #yavs writing

0 notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt #aaron hotchner x gn reader #hotch x gn reader #request

525 notes · View notes

dailytatsu · 3 years

Note

Hello! I saw request were open so i was wondering if i could request some headcanons of the Archons and/or the Adepti meeting a God reader who is the God of Chaos and destruction. The reader is not a Archon tho and travels all over Teyvat cuz small bits of destruction were ever they go. They're pretty mischievous and somewhat smug but despite how they act they're actually a good person. They dont mean to cause problems(most of the time anyways) chaos follows them were ever they go. Idk if you have a character limit but if you do please tell me so i wont make a mistake again. And if there is you can just do Zhongli and Xiao. Optionally could you make them a dendro user, there not a lot of dendro content and if not thats fine. I understand. Could you make the reader Gn or Non-binary they/them pronouns please? If not male reader is totally fine. Im so sorry for the long post and I hope you have a good day/night!

Ohmy, it’s my first time just writing headcanons! I’m use to write a lot, so let’s hope I did it right (^ ^' )7

Thanks for the request! ✨

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

[HC] God of Chaos! Reader and the Archons + Xiao

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Venti, Shogun Raiden (Ei).

Gn! Reader

I tried doing it with everyone but I’m no still that confident to try writing with some characters ＿|￣|○

Sorry for any mistakes!

Request are open!

Genshin Masterlist

Second part ->

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

VENTI

To be honest, he didn't notice your presence at first. He had other concerns on his mind that day to perceive the chaotic (and slightly threatening) aura that Mondstadt was infected with that day.

Barbatos is a person of habit, so he couldn't help but be curious when the crowd in front of him began to look a little agitated instead of seeming to enjoy his lyre and his songs.

But then a series of domino events appeared in front of his very eyes.

The purity of the chaos was such that he felt overwhelmed, even without the white-haired boy around, if it wasn’t Bennett fault, then how was it possible for everything to be ruined in such a short time?

His patience ended when, out of nowhere, the strings of his lyre jumped close to his face as they snapped. Making that awful noise that couldn’t mean nothing good.

Okay, enough, who is messing around in here? No more joking in his nation!

He concentrated a little, a faint but unique presence kept his nerves on edge, as if he was being watched from afar. He moved away from the busy areas and then chased that ephemeral energy to the highest point of the church, where the bells were ringing in an irregular and stressful way.

Then he found you. Snoozing against one of the columns, somewhat tired because the trip you made to reach Mondstadt.

Surprisingly, Barbatos understood you since the first exchange of words. A god of chaos who was also a free spirit, you followed no rules ever written in Teyvat, and you had no plans to apologize for the mess you made.

Both of you were Zhongli’s worst nightmare, but that’s another story.

He managed to through your arrogance and your teasing nature that you, in fact, were a lonely spirit that liked to witness the life from above of everyone.

The difference between teasing someone accidentally and committing a crime was really visible, but he still couldn't help but feel like he should scold you after your mere presence messed up with the guild's baskets full of fish.

But hey! He also enjoy the company! Venti tried to teach you how to enjoy the calm and the whisper of wind, music can also contain chaos, feelings, old stories waiting to be told again, expressions and desire united, in a wonderful piece of-

As you yawned his lyre broke up again. Making clear the message.

Okay, not even God of Freedom and Wind can control chaos. Anyways, what a tragedy, but there’s nothing a simple bard can do, smh.

“Do you like kids, don’t you?” He said once, after a nice day of hearing him sing before your chaos reached his little concert. Again watching everyone from above on the hands of the statue, with your attention caught by some kids playing tag.

“… I don’t know what do you mean.” Once discovered you had no choice but to remain defensive, pretending to be disinterested.

“Heh, you aren’t a good liar.” It may not be the wisest thing to make fun of someone who could destroy the place where you were resting, but Venti was confident that he knew you well enough to know that you were not so explosive. “You know!, I just have some pieces, but I think it’s because they are little walking concentrations of pure and innocent chaos, am I wrong?”

He wasn’t, no at all. But you would never confess something that embarrassing.

This guy wrote a ballad about the days when Mondstadt got immerse with that strike of bad luck. Kind of an apology of not being able to handle the situation.

Now there’s the rumor that says that, every time somebody sings that song, something unlucky will happen in front of you.

The song is cursed.

One night when the moon was shining on the Cider Lake his well tuned ears distinguished a melody that was broken from time to time by the accidents of his performer, distracting him of his way to look for you.

It could be painful to listen to, but Venti could certainly feel the dedication of the one who was playing the imperfect song.

The ballad of the god of chaos, hummed like a lullaby that instead of making you sleep makes you question the events of the day. Wishing for the slightest thing to be different after an exhaustive week of peace and tranquility.

A lonely spirits cursing their existence, sitting in the highest point of a stranger’s palace, where you can reach the sky by only rising your hand.

The next day, Barbatos invited you to drink some wine, this time near Windrise to avoid accidents in the city.

As he almost dropped the bottle when a lot of slimes were attracted by your presence, he confirmed the theory about that the way to spend time with you would not be his personal definition of hanging out.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

ZHONGLI

Okay, there’s only two scenarios that could happened when you set a foot in Liyue.

Old man has a soft spot for you for being a relative young deity.

Or he’s always lecturing you for not having control of your aura and powers.

How u dare bringing chaos to the nation of order? It’s that a death wish?

Jokes aside, you’re not really a threat. And he could sense that after he saw how you tried to avoid having direct contact with the city. Rex Lapis found your silhouette jumping and crossing through the mountains until reaching the fairest point that allowed you to enjoy the view of the streets that were filled with life and light as the sunsets.

He even noticed how you sighed in frustration when a storm started out of nowhere. A rain dedicated just for the arriving of the God of Chaos. Not even bothering of getting shield, you stayed in your place to look at all the people who were getting back to their places.

The rain seemed to stop over your head, for a second was enough to stop you from being cruelly swamped by the very weather you had created. An elegant umbrella covered you, the long awaited surprise you expected from someone as outdated as Morax.

You looked up, and found his expression calm and attentive, watching you. As if he had made a great discovery that he could not believe

“May I have a moment of your time to keep you company? Letting out your sorrows in the middle of a torrential storm is not what I would recommend as way to spend a good day.”

“… What are you talking about? Get in your own business, old man.”

“Well, you should know that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.”

Next time you knew was that he was helping you to dry your hair with a towel once you let him guide you to his place.

Zhongli picked you up like a abandoned cat that day. Even if having you near meant to deal with new the roof leaks.

Also kept you away from Hu Tao, if you two ever get along for being partners in crime he would seal himself underground-

For all the time you spend exploring Liyue, there he was. Like a little kid showing his treasures. But also like a worried father looking after his child for them not to stumble making their first steps.

Look at you! Almost crushing those Treasure Hoarders when a bunch of rocks fell down after you jumped at the edge of the cliff.

Wait, no- come back here! You should verify the surroundings and be aware of the weight of your power if you’re going to explore in that bold way. You, chaotic brat.

Another one who believed fervently that your mood was to blame for the constant chaos you caused. He also tried to show you the wonders of peace and calm, teaching you how to prepare tea while listening to the storyteller (also both being a little far away from the rest of them, just in case).

He couldn’t help but sigh when the teapot arm broke as soon as you tried to serve the tea. What a waste, he thought.

You apologized to him, kind of stressed with yourself after you took all the pieces with your bare hands to run away with them. Leaving a confused Zhongli behind.

Next day you were back, with the teapot repaired and just like new.

He let out a lot of thankful words, some flattering and a lot more cheesy things that you never had received before.

With that unexpected affection you couldn’t help but react flustered; then a cat that was chasing a bird jumped through a lot of decorations and merchandise, almost starting a fire as the chained events kept going.

Yeah,, uh, Zhongli got some useful mental notes about you and your chaos that day.

Hey, before you go, want to make a contract? You won’t regret it!

But as the wandering spirit you were you had no problems in reject his offer, but also promising that you would visit Liyue if he wanted you to.

Of course he wanted! But.. maybe next time you should stay in Huaguang Stone Forest instead of roaming near the city,,

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

XIAO

Tried to kill you.

I mean, your aura is threatening and full of a destructive energy, how is possible that you weren’t a demon to eradicate??

Sorry, but he had a point.

Your first met was on your way to reach Huaguang Stone Forest along with Zhongli for introduce you with the Adeptus.

Xiao, in the other side, thought that you were about to attack Morax from behind, so he just struck against you. With his polearm near to go through your chest, just stopped because you felt him before.

Lifting your hand at his direction, summoning chaos, this time, on purpose. The wind gained a wrathful nature and the biggest roots that were hiding under his feet rose to caught him.

And when you were about to hit each other Zhongli’s shield appeared just in time to separate both of you. Preventing a real catastrophic event.

Now stop fighting and introduce to each other.

Nice(n’t) to meet u.

What if you tried to awake Azhdaha to bring chaos and destruction to Liyue? What if you wanted to summoned Osial? What if… ?

Zhongli had to confirm and promise to him that those cruel possibilities won’t be a near future for respecting the real reason of your travel.

No matter if he wasn’t comfortable with your presence, it wasn’t his decision to allow you to roam freely, so he had to get use to it.

He immediately knew after hearing about your nature that was your fault that lately there were a lot more demons and monsters. Even his karma was getting more painful than usual.

(If you ever meet Hu Tao, please think twice before doing Xiao a prank)

You both didn’t interact a lot, and being honest, it was better that way.

He hadn’t a single intention of talking with you again until the day you were practicing the song that your Anemo friend taught you. By the other hand, Xiao noticed that the melody had the same nature as the one he once heard before being consumed by the karma.

It wasn’t a flute, but a worn lyre that was still in one piece after weeks of being repaired again and again.

“That song… ”

“Do you know it?” Xiao just nodded, staying in silence, being your very first audience even if you still have a lot to learn about playing a lyre.

It wasn’t as effective as the original, but was still… nice, kind of nostalgic.

Next morning, the Yaksha called for you. Made you stay still in the middle of a plain and then he disappeared of your sight.

He abandoned y- wait, what’s that? Why those monsters has that weird dark aura?

You were about to defend yourself until Xiao appeared back just in time to defeat them.

That day you became his personal bait for demons and monsters. Naturally you attracted chaos, so anyway you were, there will be also something to fight.

I guess this is your way to pay for all the troubles you made for him and his duty, so no complaining about it.

If you ask for a unexpected experience to Ganyu she would said that once she found both of you fighting along against the catastrophe, looking after each other’s back and almost having a perfect synchrony.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

SHOGUN RAIDEN; EI

Also tried to kill you.

Well, the puppet tried to.

And then Ei tried when you had the opportunity of facing her.

But since killing a god just mean the releasing of a lot, pure, energy she couldn’t afford that risk, much less considering your “speciality”.

Who knows what would happen to Inazuma if your vital energy burst across the nation. Just like that old story about Sal Terrae and their goddess.

She just defeated you. Letting you rest and recovering in the midst of the plane of her reality within her mind. Your inert body in the middle of the battlefield as she kept meditating.

When you woke up she ignored your presence, but also denying your complaints about letting you go out back.

In her words, you were a burden, another enemy of eternity. Something as unpredictable as you and your “accidents” couldn’t get along with her utopia.

Ei could banish you from Inazuma, but she knows your type. Stubborn and not accepting the most simple orders to obey.

She knew that you would found a way to be back.

It’s better like this.

And in the hypothetical case of you being freed when she trapped the traveler (kicking you out) and then having a chance to see her again after the end of the war, then things would be somewhat different.

There’s not that much of civilization on some islands, so she allowed you to explore as much as your heart wanted. But if something serious happen, she promised that would end her work in the middle of the sea so your remains never be found.

Okay, message clear. Just do chaos near monsters and bandits, got it,,

Even if she wanted to spend some time with you and telling you some stories about Inazuma and other gods she couldn’t found the right time to call you at her presence.

As the current ruler of Inazuma she was busier than the rest of Archons you have meet. Maybe just some letters now and then like a way to keep a logbook, but not really a face to face talk.

Until she got the opportunity of a day off, just to found you messing around near some ruins. Trying to solve a puzzle before your speciality strikes in. The structure fell down after your fingertips reached the stone.

When the dust dissipated, you discovered her figure judging you from the other side of the remain ruins.

Give her a good reason for not errase you from the map, I dare u.

You felt the worst was about to come when Ei ordered you to follow her after a long sigh. Crossing her arms and starting to walk away from the bunch of old and worn rock.

Plot Twist, she actually invited you to rest under a tree, asking in her serene voice the reason for your journey and your origin. In such a direct way that it seemed more like a sentence than a talk to get to know each other better.

You answered what you could remember and then the silence stayed like the only way of interaction between you two.

Ohno, you know this pattern. Something’s about to happen-

“There is some strange beauty in the chaos, it may be the calm after the storm, but the catastrophe itself is seen as a necessary evil to appreciate the stillness. How much it would last until the lighting hit the valley?”

“So I arrived to keep order between the humans?”

Well yes, but actually no.

“… You see, if there is nothing but order and a lack of problems, mortals are likely to create them on their own. Their minds feels the need to be tested, to prove their worth, so I guess some of your chaos may be part of the history.”

“… then shall we take a walk in Inazuma?” You did not know if you were right, but you thought you saw a faint smile through his lips in the same way that lightning can be seen in the sky.

“I’ll allow it.” She said.

Her only condition was for you not to approach the huge boxes of fireworks down the street.

688 notes · View notes

saintshigaraki · 3 years

Text

HERE, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, IS WHERE WE’LL BARE OUR SOULS

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

words: 3.2k

excerpt: Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.

a/n: this is...a bit too similar to my bakugou drabble i’ll admit. but i could see a relationship with ushijima having some of the same problems. he’s not purposely cruel, but god, doesn’t that just make it so much worse?

tags: angst, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, reader is full of rage, ambiguous/open ending

in case you want to read it on ao3!

You greet Toshi at the door, as you’ve made a habit of doing when he manages to come home before you’ve fallen asleep.

(Like a well-trained dog, you think, with only the most bitter sort of amusement.)

When you lift your hand up to cup his face, a sweet hello, love, how was your day? on your lips, he sweeps it aside (gently, of course. He's always so sickeningly gentle when he brushes you aside. You think that might just make the hollow sting of his nonchalant rejection that much worse.)

“Have you made anything for dinner?” he asks, already walking away before you have a chance to pull him down for a kiss. Your arm falls unceremoniously at your side. A deadweight, swinging.

I think I might hate you, you want to say, so, so badly. The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue as you stand frozen in the darkened entryway, his shadow stretches, eclipsing you, as he walks further and further away.

But these moments of sweet burning-hot rage pass as quickly as they come and soon -- too soon, maybe, or not soon enough -- you find yourself turning on your heels and shining a too-bright smile, the one that shows too many teeth and leaves an ache in your cheeks.

“Not yet, love, but I can whip up something real quick.”

The words taste like lead in your mouth.

(Or maybe that's just the blood from biting your tongue.)

Who knows, you muse, bitterly, bitingly. What does it matter anyway?

You make your way towards the kitchen.

Later that night, after he’s finished fucking you into the mattress, he grunts out an I love you, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.

His cum is sticky and uncomfortable as it cools on your burning thighs.

You stare at the lights sweeping across the ceiling from the passing cars and try to remember days when you didn’t feel as though someone had hollowed out everything that made you and filled in the empty space with barely contained rage.

Rationally, you know you weren’t always so unhappy with Ushijima. You loved him -- you still do -- you have for years. You could barely contain your tears of joy when he asked you to marry him and you didn’t manage to contain them at all the day you officially tied the knot.

You were so happy then. So, so, happy.

What happened?

(You know exactly what happened.)

You’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for him. Moved from country to country. Left your family and friends behind more times than you can count. Because you love Toshi. Because you love him more than anything. And because he loves you, though you know he doesn’t love you more than anything. It’s a selfish gripe to have. A rather dumb one too. Of course he doesn’t love you more than volleyball. Why should he? He’s dedicated his whole life to the sport. Countless hours, countless injuries, and setbacks, and he’s persevered through it all because that's what he does. Because that sport, that court, that stupid fucking ball, is what he loves above all else.

It’s not as if you jumped into this marriage wholly and totally blind. You’re not dumb. You knew volleyball was going to be a priority in his life, the priority. And you thought you could handle that. You did handle it. For 5 years you’ve handled it, the constant moving, the last minute canceled plans, the weeks of him traveling that have left you all alone for near months at a time in a cold home with a cold bed. You’ve handled it all with a too-wide smile plastered painfully across your face.

But things have -- shifted, recently. Maybe it’s the pressure of what could very well be his last Olympics coming up in these next few years, maybe it’s the fear of someone younger, better, stronger than him taking his place, or maybe, he simply doesn’t give all that much of a fuck about you anymore.

(You know that’s not true. Wakatoshi loves you. You know that. Which is what makes this all so much worse.)

I love you, isn’t that enough? he’d said bluntly, and maybe a bit confused, last time you brought up your concerns after the third canceled date in a row.

His words had made you pause. Was it enough? Why isn’t it enough? Shouldn’t it be enough?

At the time, you’d thought, maybe. Maybe I can make it enough.

A year later and you’ve come to the realization that it simply -- isn’t enough. Maybe if you were a different person, a slightly better person, it’d be enough. But you’re not. You’re you, a strange, toxic concoction of hollow fury and selfish desires (for comfort, for love, for anything more than whatever this is).

You roll over on your side to face your husband. He’s on his back, like he always is when he sleeps, completely dead to the world.

He’s statuesque, unmovable, untouchable, even now.

You gently brush your finger over his brow, sweeping his hair to the side, and tracing his strong jawline. You’ve done this a thousand times. You’ve memorized every curve, every freckle, every scar. You’ve mapped countless constellations across his skin.

You don’t hate him, you realize, in the dark suffocating silence of the night. Not yet, at least. There’s still too much love for him in your heart. Still too many memories of brighter days. Sweeter days. Gentler days.

He’s been good to you. As good as a man like him is capable of being. And you love him so, so dearly for it.

He has tomorrow off, maybe -- maybe you should talk to him. There’s still time to salvage this. There’s still so much love for him in your heart, enough to drive out the hate. You know it.

He has tomorrow off, you repeat to yourself. The first full day he’s taken off in a month.

You’ll talk to him then.

You have to.

The morning light is what wakes you. The gentle rays kiss your cheeks so sweetly.

Without fully opening your eyes, you reach towards Ushi only to be met with -- cool sheets.

Your stomach drops painfully and it's as though he’s taken your heart in his hands and just squeezed.

You open your eyes, wearily, tiredly, and the morning light no longer seems so sweet. It’s mocking. A cruel, bitter reminder of better days and broken promises.

You crawl out of bed, trying to stay optimistic -- maybe he just went for a morning jog -- even though you know that on days he has off he likes to sleep in. You try desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he promised and you want so badly to still be able to believe him, even after everything.

He used to have every Saturday and Sunday free, then around three years ago it turned into every Sunday, then a year and a half ago it turned into every other Sunday, and recently -- well, it’s been a while. A long, long while.

But he promised he’d stay home today.

He promised, you repeat as you stumble around the apartment only to find it painfully silent, empty, and so, so cold.

You collapse on the couch, hunched over, your head hanging pitifully into your hands. You take a deep, pathetically shaky breath.

And then you laugh.

You laugh so hard you nearly heave.

Two years ago, you would’ve cried. A year ago, you would’ve screamed.

But now? Who do you really have to blame, but yourself? How can you not laugh? How can you not laugh at just how stupid and gullible you are?

Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.

This is your fault. And it has been for a long while now.

It’s time to move on.

You book a one-way flight home -- you haven’t been back in so long. Too long, you know. You stuff as much as you can into your single suitcase and pitiful carry-on bag. It’s all strangely methodical and robotic. You’re calmer than you’ve been in months.

This is how it was always going to end. Honestly, you don’t think there was really supposed to be another option, any other way out. You don’t think this mess was ever going to be fixed. It was stupid of you to ever believe otherwise.

By the time you’ve managed to compose yourself, get your affairs in order, and meticulously pack away as much as you can, the sun has started to dip below the horizon.

The clock reads 9:18 PM. Your flight is in a few hours. You’ll have to get going soon.

You pick out the nicest, most expensive bottle of red wine in your home. You were going to save it for when Ushi made the national team again but, as you’ve learned rather painfully, sometimes plans change.

You pour yourself a glass, but in the end, can’t bring yourself to take a single sip.

That’s how Ushi finds you, sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of wine. There’s only the lone kitchen light lit in the apartment. The shadows dance around him, dark and monstrous, ready to swallow you both whole.

Wakatoshi has never been particularly skilled at reading social cues but you can tell from the slight tilt of his head that he knows somethings wrong. You wonder if he knows exactly how wrong.

(Not that it would really change anything if he did.)

The thud of his gym bag hitting the floor echoes too loudly in the silent apartment.

He steps into the kitchen like he does all other things -- with purpose, with confidence. It will never not leave you in awe, even now, how sure he always is of himself. He’s a blunt force weapon, he always has been, and you can’t imagine a time where he’ll be anything but.

He stops at the opposite end of the table. It’s the beginning of the same song and dance you two have done time and time again when he breaks his little promises.

His big ones too.

(You think of when he had missed your five-year anniversary dinner for a last-minute practice. He hadn’t forgotten about the reservation, he’d told you after he’d returned home to you sitting alone at the kitchen table, half-drunk and livid, but people were relying on him, is what he’d said, and there’s always next year.)

This routine is comforting, if only in the cruelest way.

We can put on a show, just this last time, you think. For old time’s sake.

Your eyes fall back down to your glass as you speak. “You said you’d stay home today.”

You look back up just in time to see him opening his mouth. No doubt getting ready to cycle through the same set of excuses he’s been using for the past four years.

A teammate called.

I needed the extra practice.

There’s a skill I need to perfect.

The Olympics are 4 years away...3 years away...2 years away....you know that, love.

And, of course, no matter his reason, his excuse, he always makes sure to add, I’ll stay home next Sunday, I promise.

He doesn’t intend for that last part to be cruel, you’re sure of it, but God, if that doesn’t make it so much worse.

You cut him off before he can even start. “You promised.”

His brows furrow at your exhausted, weary tone. “There was a team meeting today, I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It went on longer than I expected it would. We can still go out to dinner if you’d like.”

You give him a sad sort of smile. You’re too tired to give him any other. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that, love.”

Ushijima’s left brow twitches, as it always does when he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on.

He takes a step forward, around the table. “What do you mean? Are you going out tonight?”

You shake your head softly. “No, Toshi.”

You can’t help but wish more than anything, that it didn’t have to come to this, because you have loved him so much, so deeply, and you think that for it to end like this is a disservice to you both.

His jaw clenches, no doubt already trying to contain his frustration. He’s probably tired after his long day. An argument over something like this is probably the last thing he wants. A good wife would care more. A good wife might’ve persevered, smiled through her husband's little lies and shattered promises. A good wife might’ve tried harder. A good wife might’ve dug her heels in, instead of letting go completely.

But you’re not a good wife. Not now, at least. For all you know, you never were. You’ve always been just a bit too bitter, too selfish, too flawed. Not willing enough to throw yourself on the metaphorical altar for him.

He’s close enough now that he can see the suitcase at your side. It stops him dead in his tracks.

“What’s going on?” His tone is hard, demanding, but you know him too well to miss the fear that pulls at the corner of his eyes.

Ushijima Wakatoshi is a lot of things. But he’s certainly not dumb. He has to know what’s going on. He has to have known that, eventually, this was what was going to happen.

You stand up slowly, bracing your palms against the rough wood of the tabletop.

“I-” you let out a harsh, mean breath. You hate that you’re doing this. But you’d hate yourself more if you didn’t. And you know you’d grow to hate him too, eventually, if you stay. You’re burning up here in this home, each broken promise and cold night add fuel to the already raging fire. You’ll be nothing but ashes soon enough. “I can’t do this anymore, Wakatoshi.”

His pretty olive eyes narrow. The look he gives you is practically glacial. His fury has always been so, so cold. A stark contrast to your burning rage.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” His words are slow, methodical, and too even.

They crack open something violent inside your chest, something with teeth. Something mean and ugly and so, so sad.

Too many years of biting your tongue have culminated into this moment. It’s time to strip yourself to the bone, to the ugly marrow. No matter how painful or awful.

Don’t you two deserve that, at least? Don’t you two deserve to part ways having seen the worst of each other?

“Of course you don’t understand, Ushijima,” you spit out, caustic and cruel. “How can you?” The laugh you let out is ripped from the very bottom of your heart, mean and poisonous. “Or more accurately, why would you? Why would you even bother understanding? It’s not like my unhappiness has ever really meant anything to you before-”

He cuts in sharply. “You know that’s not true.”

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t. How can I? I’ve been miserable for years now, left to beg for scraps of your attention like a fucking dog. I’ve reduced myself to this pathetic creature. I-” tears cloud your vision, far faster than you can blink them away. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Ushijima. I’m so--I’m so angry all the time and if I stay here that’s going to be all that’s left of me.”

It’s silent after your outburst and in the air is something awful and too great. You’re both teetering on the edge of something terrifying.

“If you stay with me, you mean,” he says, finally, and far too soft for a man like him. All signs of his previous fury have fled and in his eyes is a painful sort of vulnerability.

Your anger dissipates with his, mostly because you’re so fucking tired of being angry.

Is it really his fault, anyway? What exactly were you expecting of him, when you took his last name? Were you really wanting him to change something so fundamental, so ingrained in his soul, just for you? How unfair of you, you realize now, how cruel.

“Toshi.” You’re exhausted. And so sick of being second best. “This is more my fault than it is yours. I thought I could handle what being married to you would entail but I was,” -- you laugh, far less biting than before-- “very wrong.” You close your eyes, unable to look at him. “And now I suppose we’re both paying the price for it.”

“I love you,” he says, bluntly. “And you love me.”

You’re finally able to meet his eyes again. You take in the planes of his face, the subtle pain etched into every corner, a brutal, beautiful reflection of the years you’ve spent by his side.

“I do love you, Ushijima. More than anything.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

You swallow hard. “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough, Toshi. Relationships require more than love. They require work, and compromise, and some semblance of care and dedication, and you just-- you just don’t have the time for that right now, and I understand that. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I deserve-” you stop and give yourself a moment to choose your words carefully, lovingly because you’re desperate for him to just understand. “We deserve better, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head, his hair falls in his eyes. You sweep it aside, a force of habit after all these years, something you’ve done a million and one times. Before you can jerk your arm back he grips it in his large hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist, unyielding.

“I need you,” Toshi says, uncharacteristically desperate. You can feel the heat radiating off his chest. It's a twisted sort of comfort. Knowing this may very well be the last time you’ll be in this position.

You smile, sweetly and a bit sadly. “No, you don’t, Ushi. You need volleyball. You need the thrill of the game and the taste of victory but you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. And that’s okay.” You lift your other hand up to brush the stray tear that’s fallen from his eye. He nuzzles into your palm before you can move it, clinging to you like some sort of lifeline. “It’ll be okay, Toshi, we’ve just reached the end of our road. That’s all.”

He raises a shaky hand to trace the dried tracks of tears on your cheek, it’s startling to see him so uncomposed. “Please,” he nearly begs, “don’t do this.”

In your heart, there’s an odd brew of grief and rage and pain and love so mean you know you’ll feel the ache of it for years to come.

You think of all the shattered promises he’s left at your feet, you think of the gentle way he’s held you through the years, you think of his string of nonchalant rejection, you think of yourself, bright and burning.

Your mind spins from it and all you can do is rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

a/n pt 2: there is some untapped potential in the fed up housewife genre and i am determined to unearth it. also i love ushi i promise i think he’d be a great husband under most circumstances

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu angst #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #vicwrites #vicwriteshq

1K notes · View notes

imaginethathaikyuu · 4 years

Text

kinktober - day one

akaashi keiji - friends to lovers

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list

NSFW warning featuring: fingering, dry humping, first time together, unprotected sex other tags: lots of exposition, too many words, years long pining, accidental almost confession, emotional real one, mentions of characters having previous partners, oblivious reader, hidden feelings, slight angst, oh no there’s only one bed! fem reader

word count: 7380

Akaashi Keiji knows everything.

At least, he seems to.

You realized this only a month after knowing him. He turned around to you, the girl who sat behind him in biology, and gave you one look before saying, “You have no idea what this lesson is about, do you?” And you laughed, because it was so absurdly true, while Akaashi turned his desk around and introduced himself as your study partner.

You still don’t know how he knew you were struggling. You thought you hid it well, but his eyes must have caught the poor grade on the quiz the teacher returned to you the week before, or the way you seemed to immediately sulk the moment you walked into the classroom. He could see everything you tried to hide - even things you couldn’t see yourself.

And he wouldn’t let you get away with anything but a stellar grade, so study sessions became routine for the two of you - a friendship was destined to bloom, and fast.

He was too observant for his own good, which was something you learned while watching one of his volleyball practices. He had been inviting you to come watch after study sessions for awhile, but it took you a bit to work up the nerve to walk into the giant gymnasium filled with boys you didn’t know.

As you watched him play, you saw his superpower: Akaashi’s eyes were everywhere at once. On the ball, on his teammates, on his opponents, on his own feet - he always knew where everyone was at any given moment, all while somehow managing to spare you a few knowing glances during the mess of the game.

You never knew how he did it, but you figured you didn’t have to know. It was because he was Akaashi, and that’s it.

But you questioned why no one else seemed to notice it. His excellence was obvious to you, but even his closest friends seemed to gloss over it.

Keiji stood out to you, while to others, he was just Akaashi. Quiet, reserved, sometimes as blunt as a hammer, Akaashi.

He didn’t care, though. Akaashi thrived on being in the background - he didn’t need any of the attention or recognition you wished to give him. And maybe he loved his friends more because they left him be.

Those friends of his, however, all shined just as bright as Keiji did, and were never shy about it. You look back at getting to know them all as a highlight of being in high school; despite never feeling like you belonged in their friend group, you were always happy to be with them.

Keiji pushed you to get closer to the three boys, Tsukishima, Bokuto, and especially Kuroo, right from the first day you met them. They were playing a friendly volleyball game with a few other boys you never really met, and you quickly learned you had no reason to be nervous to meet them.

It was easy to let go and goof off, because that’s all any of them were doing, anyway.

Just because it seemed like fun to get under Kuroo’s skin, you decided to antagonize him a bit. “So, Nekoma’s mascot is a cat, correct?”

Kuroo immediately grew defensive at your tone. “Yes - what do you have against cats?”

“Nothing, nothing! I like to think of myself as pretty cat-like, actually.”

“Show him your claws, Y/N,” Keiji chimed in.

“They’re nimble, and sneaky... and lazy. Something that owls aren’t - just saying. Seems pretty fitting when comparing your team to ours, don’t you think?”

“Akaashi, you better get your cat,” Kuroo grumbled, with a sly smirk that never seemed to leave his face.

“She’s just a kitten,” Akaashi replied, winking at you and immediately taking your breath in a way you’d never felt before. “Not my kitten, though, so you’re on your own here, Kuroo.”

That’s when the first wall came up. You didn’t notice it, not yet, or even realize why it had been built. But as soon as your heart sank to your stomach and erupted into butterflies all because of Keiji’s flirtatious gesture, that wall arose.

And many would follow.

On the walk home from that practice, you noticed every glance he sent you. Every time his shoulder touched yours, you felt it amplified. Your knuckles grazed his and you looked down at your hands - his much bigger than yours, your fingers raring to wrap around his. And they were going to, either out of curiosity or the blatant need to touch him or both, until he stuffed both of his hands into his pockets and away from your potential grasp.

You shook your disappointment off and reminded yourself of what the two of you were: friends. Just friends. Friends only hold hands sometimes, and it’s not on walks home or during study sessions or any of the times you found yourself wanting to hold onto him.

“Kuroo likes you,” Akaashi said out of nowhere. And you laughed.

“You think so?”

“I’m pretty sure.” He sounded distant, his gaze was head on. “Maybe you should give him a chance.”

You laughed again and said, “Maybe,” even though you knew you’d never entertain the thought of going out with Kuroo.

Not with Kuroo or anyone else, but you wouldn’t understand why for a long time.

Two years of friendship had come and gone in almost an instant, but every day with Akaashi was memorable in that easy familiar way only he could offer. He truly was your comfort - everything you needed in a friend, Keiji had. Being so close to him was a blessing, you knew that.

When the two of you ended up choosing the same university, you almost wanted to cry, because you knew nothing could quell your fears of what’s new better than Keiji’s all knowing familiarity. Having your best friend by your side during times of change would make everything easier.

But it was a different story entirely when you became roommates with him. The apartment you shared was small but homey; it had all the comfort you had in your friendship with him, and you thought nothing could be better than that.

It was more than that, though. Months went by of seeing him every day, and it felt like that comfort was leaking through the floor every time you saw his bedhead or heard him singing in the shower or watched him pull another girl into his bedroom.

It wasn’t like the latter was an often occurrence, but just the thought of him being with someone made your stomach turn. But it gave you the idea of seeking your own partners, which was something you hadn’t done in years, and it quickly spiraled into an unhealthy habit.

You longed for familiarity, to be touched by someone you knew. You were desperate for comfortable vulnerability, and you never found that with a stranger in your bed. So, you decided to seek out someone familiar. And when the person in bed with you was an old friend, a realization dawned on you. Rather, it was offered to you.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Kuroo mumbled, and you did nothing but send him a questioning glare, one he scoffed at.

The two of you had done nothing so far but send a few flirty texts and then sit on your bed; he hadn’t even kissed you yet. You weren’t sure how you felt about it - you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to kiss you.

“I’m not the one you want here, idiot. So why am I the one you brought to your bed?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied honestly. “Are we going to -”

“No, we aren’t. Are you really that dense?”

“What?”

“Look,” Kuroo said, standing up and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was annoyed that he had to be saying this. And while you watched him, you noticed this was the first time you ever saw him without his signature grin or sly eyes. “If I was a shitty friend, I would have fucked you back in high school, alright? I mean, come on, I had the chance. But I care about Akaashi too much to ever do that with you, and I know you don’t actually want to fuck me.”

You stood up, too, facing him head on. “What does Akaashi have anything to do with fucking me, Kuroo?”

“Everything, idiot. I know you probably think you’re good at hiding it, but everyone knows you’re as in love as you could possibly be with that smartass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, because you didn’t, but Kuroo wasn’t having it.

“Well you’re the only one you’ve convinced. And, for the record, this isn’t going to help you get over him.”

Still, you didn’t get it. You couldn’t see it - you refused to.

“You’re off limits, dude, Akaashi told us himself.”

“Then why are you here?”

His annoying grin was back. “To see how delusional you really are. And give you some advice. Just admit it to yourself - you’ll feel better, I promise.”

Keiji was your best friend, and that was it.

This wasn’t some story of years long pining and unrequited love.

Was it?

But you thought about it, for just a moment. You thought about being in love with him.

And then you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You decided, right then and there, that what Kuroo said wasn’t true; admitting it to yourself didn’t make anything better. In a lot of ways, your friendship with Akaashi thrived on your special feelings for him, and it relied on those feelings staying secret to both of you.

You couldn’t even finish the conversation with Kuroo. He swore not to tell, because you made him, and that was it.

That’s when the second wall came up, then the third, then the fourth. You were trapped inside of them. Hiding, only hiding, and safe from anyone who could see you or your heart.

You denied it still, even though Kuroo knew, just to convince yourself he didn’t. No one knew but you; the only one who knew the password to that door was you. You could be hidden, safe, and protected forever, because you made it that way.

Keiji would never know, and everything would stay okay.

Everything but you. And that security wouldn’t last, because a storm was brewing.

But you were content. What you had with Keiji was always enough for you - you had enough. You saw him every day. You got to hear his laugh on the good days and hug him on the bad ones; you got to have coffee with him every morning and secret late night snacks too many midnights. Sleeping alone was fine. Not getting intimate moments was okay. What you had was enough.

It seemed like the more you recognized your feelings for him, the more of Keiji you saw. You were still getting to know him after years of calling him your best friend; you were noticing his habits that you never saw before. He mumbles to himself while he cooks; he picks at his nails when he’s nervous; he overthinks everything, even the smallest decisions.

The latter had always been obvious, but you had never realized it until you lived with him - until you really started to love him.

Every day, you learned something new about him. And every day, you loved him more, in ways you didn’t even know you could. Ways that made it hard to love him from afar.

Months of your love growing during your first year of university seemed to go by too quickly, and soon spring break was fast approaching. A trip with old friends to a lake house was planned months in advance, and both you and Keiji were excited to see the three boys again.

But when you arrived at the old looking house that evening you were met with knowing eyes and a sly grin that hadn’t changed since high school.

“There are only four beds,” Kuroo announced, “and five of us.”

“That’s alright,” Keiji started, but he was interrupted by Bokuto’s loud laugh.

“Oh, I guess we’re sharing a bed, four eyes!”

“I’ll suffocate you in your sleep,” Tsukishima said, meaning every word he said in a way that made Kuroo cackle.

Keiji looked at you. “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?”

A million thoughts ran through your mind, but you only shook your head. You didn’t voice any of the concerns you had for yourself.

“No problem.”

He gave you a grin. “It’ll be like our high school sleepovers,” and then he took your bag and left to find your shared room.

You remembered the last sleepover you had with him and your heart raced just thinking about it; you spent half of the night pretending to be asleep, and the other half watching Keiji’s sleeping face and wondering why laying next to him made you feel the way it did.

This would be the exact same, except now you knew why your heart would be pounding.

Kuroo was still laughing, but he was looking directly at you. “Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

“Shut up, Kuroo.”

He kept laughing, and it left Bokuto scratching his head. “What’s going on? Why are you mad, Y/N?”

“Because Kuroo is an asshole -”

“Hey now, I’m doing you a favor here!”

“...I still don’t get it.”

“You never will, Bokuto,” Tsukishima commented.

You decided to leave Kuroo laughing on his own - you shouldn’t let him get under your skin, because that’s exactly what he wanted to do. He was doing this on purpose. Maybe he thought he was helping you out, but he was only making things harder for you.

You weren’t going to let him win. You were going to have fun on this trip while keeping our secret seeled, and nothing would stop you - not even Kuroo attempting to play matchmaker.

The late arrival called for a quick dinner and a nighttime bonfire to kick off the vacation the right way; the boys were all too excited for the night and had gotten the fire started before you could even finish unpacking your bag.

When you stepped outside, the cool air hit your skin and froze you all over - you expected low temperatures, but not that.

“It’s cold!” you called out to the boys who were all sitting around the nearby campfire.

“That’s why we have a fire, moron!”

“It’s still cold,” you argued, even though you knew it was fruitless to fight with Kuroo.

“It’s alright, you’ll warm up,” Keiji told you.

“Go warm her up, Akaashi!”

You ignored Kuroo’s comment - you were not in a good place to be entertaining that thought, not when you’d be in bed with Keiji in just a few hours.

Keiji seemed to ignore it, too. “Here, I saved you a seat.” He patted the vacant spot on the bench next to him, and you sat down. “You didn’t bring a jacket, did you?”

“It’s inside,” you replied. “But I’m fine.”

He didn’t even listen to your response, he was already pulling his hoodie off and giving it to you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, holding it in your lap.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’ll keep you warm - you need it more than I do.”

“How romantic,” Kuroo butted in, and it was only now that you noticed the beer in his hand - as well as the few empty cans next to him.

Drunk Kuroo is always worse than Sober Kuroo, even though you could hardly believe he could ever get snarkier. It was like alcohol made him open his big mouth more, and it always made you nervous. Even though you knew he’d never say anything about your secret while anyone else was around, any time alcohol was involved made those chances go up.

“Just being nice,” Keiji said, obviously playing in to Kuroo’s banter. “I don’t see you offering her your jacket.”

“Hey, I just don’t think you’d like it if I gave your girl my jacket, would you?”

Keiji laughed at his slurred words and directed his reply at the group rather than to Kuroo, “He’s only had five beers and he’s already stuttering.”

“We’ll see if he makes it to six before passing out,” you said, and while it made the others laugh, it seemed to rub Kuroo’s drunken fragile ego the wrong way.

“I can handle my alcohol just fine, thank you.”

Bokuto butted in, “Are you sure about that?”

“You’ve been a lightweight since high school,” you added.

Everyone laughed, Kuroo included. With his next words, he must have thought he was playing along with the joke. That you were all in on what he was about to say next. That they would have no repercussions, they would sting no ears.

But when he said them, it sounded like a smack of thunder.

“Yeah, and you’ve been hiding your feelings since high school - some things just never change, Y/N!”

You could hardly hear Bokuto saying, “Feelings? For who?!”

“For Aka -”

“Kuroo.”

You stood up. Keiji’s forgotten hoodie fell out of your lap and landed on the ground. Everything was quiet save for the fire cracking and the pounding of your heart.

Your eyes said everything you needed to tell Kuroo. He stared right back at you, his face white as snow and his mouth hung open as he choked back his words. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. It was the calm before a fast approaching storm, one you couldn’t run away from.

“You weren’t going to say Akaashi, were you? Surely not…”

Kuroo turned his head to look at Bokuto, seeming to have no clue what to say. You kept staring as he shook his head, not having the courage to say anything else.

“Pretty sure he was,” Tsukishima said.

“Oh. Shit.”

You could have denied it - you didn’t. You could have been angry at Kuroo - you weren’t. You could have explained this away as him being drunk and talking out of his ass - you couldn’t.

You didn’t dare turn to look at Keiji as you stormed toward the cabin. You refused to stay and let this situation become worse than it already was.

You could hardly hear the words Keiji had for Kuroo, but they were something like, “Why the fuck did you do that?” and if you had been any less upset you would have been worried for how angry he sounded.

You didn’t know what would happen next. If you thought about it, you were sure you’d fall apart, and that was the one thing you couldn’t let happen. You had to hold yourself together, you had to give this situation the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe if you could just lie down and sleep before Keiji comes inside, you could wake up in the morning and everyone would act like nothing happened. Just because your secret is out doesn’t mean it was over - you could wait out this storm.

That’s what you were doing when Keiji came into your shared bedroom. You lied in bed as Keiji slipped in, your back to him and the blanket pulled up to your chin. And, just like at those old sleepovers with him, you were pretending to be asleep.

You had to be good at pretending if you wanted to stay best friends with him. To be as close as you are, with the feelings that you keep for him, you learned how to hide from Keiji. And you had gotten good at it, too - at least, you liked to think so. You were sure he wouldn’t catch you awake.

You tried not to think about what happened earlier. You tried not to dread what was coming if he knew you weren’t actually sleeping.

Minutes passed and Akaashi stayed awake. Then, he looked over to you.

“I know you’re awake.”

Everything felt frozen, just for a moment, but you didn’t move. You kept your breathing deep and steady, you lied still.

He reached a hand out to you, fisting your shirt into his palm. His thumb grazed your lower back, skin he exposed from grabbing your shirt.

“Stop pretending. You’re bad at it.”

It was like the world stopped spinning. Your world, anyway - the one you had made up in your head. The world where the only things Keiji didn’t know were all the things you were trying to hide from him; the world where, despite never being a good liar, you were good at lying to him.

But that wasn’t the same world Keiji was living in.

“I know,” you replied, voice cracking through the words.

You were sure he didn’t mean what he said in the way you felt it sting your chest, but it didn’t matter. Years of learning, hiding, pretending were all culminating in this moment, and if you weren’t careful you’d end up losing it all.

His hand moved from your back to holding your side. “Will you look at me?” And you didn’t have a choice, because he was turning you to lay on your back, anyway.

So you looked at him, because it’s what he asked you to do, and you felt the first crack in your poorly built foundation when you realized how close he was to you; then, he put his hand on your side and pulled you even closer.

It’s like he was looking through you.

“I should tell you something,” he said, and you had some idea where he was going with this but you didn’t want to find out. No part of you wanted to hear what he was about to say.

“You know… I already knew, Y/N.”

There it was: the collapse.

You couldn’t look at him anymore, so you closed your eyes and tried to keep pretending, even though you had nowhere left to hide.

“Yeah.” The hand on your side was hot and heavy and hard; you hated how much you loved being touched by him, even right now when your made up world was ending. “I know.”

“I’ve always known.”

“I’m sorry.”

You were so close to letting go, to breaking down in the pile of rubble. But you had built your house of lies on unsteady ground, after all; what else did you expect to happen other than this destruction?

You wanted to cry. You didn’t. You couldn’t be angry at yourself or upset, because you saw this coming. After all, Keiji knows everything. He sees things you don’t even know are showing - he’s been able to read you like a book since before he even knew your name.

Of course he knew. You were stupid to ever think he didn’t.

He whispered your name, and then you felt him kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, meaning it with your whole heart even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything.

“I should tell you something else,” he said, and it was quiet, like he was telling you a secret only you could know. He was treading carefully, choosing his words particularly - he didn’t do that often. You felt him bunching your shirt up in his fist again, you heard him sigh loudly. “I don’t even know how to say it.”

The tears were finally slipping free as you began to understand what he was getting at, so you pulled back. You didn’t need him to pity you.

“It’s fine,” you insisted, trying to push him away. He wouldn’t let you. “I know - I’ll get over it - you don’t have to tell me - I already know.”

“No, you don’t - you don’t know, Y/N, please, just come here.”

“Keiji -”

“Let me show you.” He wasn’t speaking quietly anymore - this wasn’t a secret anymore. “I can’t explain it - let me show you, Y/N - please.”

“Show me what?”

“That I feel the same,” he said, pulling you back into his arms.

For a second, you thought you misheard him.

And then, he kissed you.

Soft, sweet, new lips were on yours, taking your breath as if he needed it to breathe himself, then breathing a new life into you that you never knew could be alive. It was like striking a match, flicking a lighter, starting a fire; you watched the rubble of your once hidden love burn, all at the hands of Keiji.

At first you didn’t even know how to kiss him back. It was too much, too bright, too hot - and then, you couldn’t stop kissing him. You anchored your hands on the back of his neck and held him against you, silently begging him to let you take all that you wanted from him.

You kissed him like you’d never get the chance to do this again, because you were sure you wouldn’t. This hardly felt real, let alone something that would ever happen more than once. So you savored it, you memorized this feeling so you could relive it in your dreams forever.

A whimper reverberated through your throat and against Keiji’s lips and the feeling made him kiss you deeper, like he was searching for a way to get you to make that noise again. As the kiss got deeper, a natural progression came over your position; before you could realize it, Keiji was on top of you and lying between your legs.

His touch was hotter than a flame and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time his tongue brushed against yours, it took a part of you with it, and you were ready to give him all of you.

And then, he stopped kissing you.

He pulled back only slightly, and when you chased his lips he pulled back even more. You opened your eyes and stared up at him, at his blushed cheeks and pink lips and beautiful eyes. You could see the cogs in his mind turning and for a second it was like you were seeing a part of Keiji he’s never shown you before; the veil of his all knowing gaze was being dropped, only because he was letting it.

Because all this time, Keiji was hiding, too - hiding in plain sight. You always thought he treated you the way he treated everyone else, that he knew everything about everyone, but it wasn’t true. He only knew all of your secrets because he took the time to find them. He only saw you for who you really were because he cared enough to know. And, unlike you, he was a good actor; good at pretending you weren’t special; good at building walls that would stay up until he was ready for them to come down.

And with his next words, he made them shatter.

“I love you.”

You kept staring at him, trying to figure out if this nervous boy on top of you really was Keiji.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

You brushed his hair out of his face and rested your hand on his cheek, still completely in awe of him, and this was all too much for you to believe. “Is this a prank?”

He laughed at you, and his nerves seemed to melt away.

“Damn, you caught me.” His forehead fell to rest on yours, your noses brushed. “No, it’s not a prank. I love you.”

Somehow this intimacy felt all too foreign and way too familiar, all at once. It was overflowing, your heart was racing, it was hard to breathe, tears were falling from your eyes.

“Say it again,” you whispered, begging him to assure you of this - to make you believe it.

And he wiped your tears away as he told you, again, “I love you,” and the kiss he placed on your cheek seemed to make you weep even more. “And I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you replied immediately, “I love you, too - it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” It was obvious, now, that this had been bothering Keiji for longer than you could ever know. “I just… wasn’t ready. Especially with volleyball, and then moving, and then starting university, I just - I never had enough of me to give to you. And you deserve all of me, not just what’s left of me at the end of the day - I don’t know. I’m just… sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that in a way that was good enough - all you could think to do was kiss him, because you finally could kiss him, so you did. And it was the same as your first: hot and sweet, familiar and foreign, intimate and overwhelming.

And the more you kissed him, the more it stirred something up inside of you. He wasn’t holding back - not after holding back for years - and it was like he was trying to get any reaction he could out of you. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer than he’s ever been, and the way it felt to have him pressed up against you sent chills across your burning skin.

You pulled back from the kiss just to take a breath. “Say it again,” you mumbled, because you weren’t tired of hearing those three words yet. A part of you still didn’t believe them.

Instead of saying them, though, he let his kisses trail down your jaw and onto your neck. You could feel the vibrations of his voice when he spoke, “Let me show you.”

And you knew what he meant, but you teased him anyway, “How do you want to do that?”

His hips seemed to move on their own free will, thrusting against you as if he couldn’t stop them. And it proved that he was just as in over his head as you were; you liked that. You liked knowing you weren’t the only one in a daze. You liked having this effect on Keiji.

“However you want,” he said through a dry throat. “We can do anything you want.”

“I just want you,” you told him honestly. You had no other choice anymore - the truth was all you had left.

“You have me,” he replied. “I’m yours - just let me show you.”

Your next kiss was interrupted by his shirt coming off, then yours. You felt his bare skin against yours and you were sure this was enough, that you were content with just this. This feeling was all that you needed.

“You’re pretty,” he whispered to you as his eyes scanned your bare body, and it left you shaking in anticipation as his lips made their way to your chest. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your eyes couldn’t leave his face as your fingers carded through his hair; you felt his hands travel the length of your body, and every kiss he left on your skin felt like it was touching your heart - all you could do was watch.

His hand moved lower, his fingers were teasing the edge of your shorts, but he hesitated to cross the barrier. You grabbed his wrist and pushed him across it, showing him that you couldn’t wait for this.

That’s all Keiji needed to understand how far you were willing to go with him. His skilled fingers worked against you, slipping into your underwear and touching you exactly where you needed them to, and it was better than anything you could ever dream.

And he did it like it was easy, like he’s spent years getting to know your body and he was doing what he knew would work. Like this was routine rather than your first time.

This sure as hell felt like it was your first time doing this; you had never felt so sensitive or open or vulnerable. But you had never been touched by a man you wanted so much; you never thought you’d feel his fingers spreading you open or see him on top of you - this is something you’ve only done in daydreams, and now it was real.

For the first time you were vulnerable and okay with it. You were letting him have all of you, and you trusted that he would treat you right. And he was. Maybe it was your love for him or the disbelief of the situation or both clouding your judgement, but you were convinced that his fingers felt better than your own.

“Is this okay?” he asked in a whisper, and you replied with a moan that you couldn’t hold in anymore. He laughed, “Does that mean yes?”

“Keiji, please don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing yet,” he replied with a few kisses along your jaw. You felt his fingers moving more, moving toward going inside, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

You were pulled out of your daze for just a second as you looked up at his furrowed brows and half lidded eyes; his face left you wondering what he was about to say next.

“I really like the sounds you’re making,” he said, “but if anyone hears we’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laughed, because you had completely forgotten that you and Keiji weren’t the only two people in the world - let alone this house.

“Right,” you breathed out.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, but you…”

Two of his fingers slid into you, and you held back a gasp.

“...have to stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, trying your best to take deep breaths rather than let your voice out.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, giving another nod.

“Good,” he said.

His fingers curled, and you covered your mouth with your palm.

“Stay quiet,” he said, even though it felt like he was doing everything he could so you’d do the opposite. His fingers curling into you were begging for a reaction, and it was hard not to give him one. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Keiji’s hips were moving again, thrusting against your leg like he just couldn’t help it. You wanted to give him more but you couldn’t - your hands were busy covering your mouth and holding onto the sheets for your life, and so all you could do was watch him grinding against you.

“You’re one to talk,” you replied, making him laugh.

Both of you looked down and watched; the curl of his fingers moved in time with his thrusts against you - every time they came forward, you felt his length sliding up your thigh. And when he pulled back, his fingers straightened out.

You’d give anything to have more. “Keiji,” you started, but you just couldn’t get the words out.

He said them for you as he pulled his fingers out, “Can I fuck you?”

You had no other answer besides, “Please,” and you were ready to beg for it if that’s what it came to.

He started to pull his boxers off, but again, he hesitated. The arm he was holding himself up with was trembling, his breathing was unsteady, his entire body seemed tense. Keiji was hanging on by a thread.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

You were taken aback. “Keiji…”

“We don’t have to do this now - is it too soon? Are you sure you want me?”

It was hard to listen to his voice when it sounded so honest.

Your hands took place on either side of his face, ensuring he would look at you while you spoke to him.

“Keiji… do you want this?”

“More than anything,” he replied.

“I can tell,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember - I don’t think it’s too soon. But we can wait if you want. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I don’t,” he said. “I can’t wait - I’m so hard it fucking hurts - I just don’t want you to -”

“You think too much.”

He laughed. “I know.”

You let your hands travel down to his chest, hoping you got through to him. “Don’t overthink it. I want you to fuck me, Keiji,” and your hips thrusted against his as if to convince him of how badly you needed it. “Sooner rather than later.”

It seemed to be good enough, he seemed to believe you, because now he wasn’t hesitating to take off his shorts and yours. The view it gave you struck a burning desire like no other - now that you could see all of him, you couldn’t handle not having all of him.

And he was raring to give himself to you, coaxing his cock inside of you until you took it all, and both of you felt like you were about to explode.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, and the volume of his voice pulled you back down to the real world.

“Stay quiet,” you reminded him, giggling because the tables had turned on him.

“I know,” he said with a nod. “You just feel so good - you’re so fucking tight - I can’t believe this is happening - oh, fuck, it’s too much.”

“Move, Keiji,” you whined, bucking your hips up to try to feel anything, and he cursed under his breath when he pulled back to watch your desperate attempt at fucking yourself with his cock.

“You can do it,” he teased, pulling his hips back a little more so you had more room to move. “Keep going - fuck me like that, kitten, don’t stop.”

You were dying to feel him meeting your thrusts, because this wasn’t nearly enough, but you loved his teasing.

“That’s it,” he said, “that’s my girl. Taking me so well, fuck, you’re perfect.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, that was obvious as his thrusts started. He took a hold of your hips and held you in place so he could take you at his own pace, and he was everything you could ever need.

Your love for him was spilling from your lips and he was doing everything he could to keep you saying it, bringing you higher with every passing second. Feeling him between your thighs and inside your walls was intoxicating. It was everything you hoped it would be, simply because it was Keiji.

“I’m close,” you said as if he needed a warning - he could probably already tell.

“Quiet, kitten,” he said to you, bringing your lips up to his for a kiss. “These sounds are for me - don’t want anyone else hearing what’s mine. Be a good girl for me.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, and he cooed at your whining.

“I know,” he mumbled, and just by the sound of his voice you could tell he was liking this. And he was going to make it harder for you when his hand trailed down your body so his fingers could circle your clit.

He kissed you hard to stop any sound you were about to make and you were grateful for it.

“I want you to cum for me,” he said, “and I don’t want you to make a sound when you do.”

“Keiji -”

His hips and fingers sped up. “I’m serious. Come on, kitten, be my good girl - make me proud and stay quiet while you’re cumming all over my cock. You can do it, I know you can.”

Any trust he had in you staying quiet until the end was completely misplaced - you knew that when his hand clamped down over your mouth. You didn’t try to hold in your voice at all, and Keiji was having just as much trouble, burying his face into your neck to muffle his noises the best he could.

It didn’t matter if anyone else could hear you; to you, nothing else mattered but Keiji. He was the only other person in your world, the only person your body would ever scream so loudly for. As long as it was him bringing you to this euphoria, you didn’t care who else knew about it.

Let your friends give you hell for it, let Kuroo say I told you so - you’d deal with the embarrassment in the morning. That moment was worth it.

The soft kisses he was leaving on your neck in the wake of hitting your peaks helped you float back down easily. It was like being woken up from a dream, one where the only thing you could remember was how pleasant it was.

“You were not quiet,” Keiji laughed. You felt your cheeks swelling and heating up in embarrassment.

“I couldn’t help it…”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “You still made me proud.”

He lied next to you and pulled you close, and you convinced yourself that you were going to be there in his arms forever. If you were, you’d have no complaints.

A quiet moment passed, and you couldn’t stand the silence. “How was… that?”

He pulled back to look at you with wide eyes, as if he didn’t expect you to ask. “What do you mean?”

“Was it good? Did you like it? Was I -”

“It was perfect,” he said, biting his lip and looking up at the ceiling as if his high hadn’t completely worn off. “It was everything. Don’t get all shy and insecure on me now that you know I love you back.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. “I’m just making sure.”

“Do you need me to prove it to you again?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll make sure you stay quiet for me this time, then.”

Whether or not the two of you were successful in your attempts to keep the noise down was up for debate, but by the end of the night, neither of you cared.

And the next morning, when you forced yourself to leave Keiji and the warmth of the bed, you found Kuroo pacing outside of your door.

“Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry - I’m so sorry - what I said last night was way out of line, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for it -”

“It’s fine, Kuroo,” you said, because it was. If you were being honest, after the night you had with Keiji you had completely forgotten about what Kuroo said.

“It’s not fine,” he argued. “I shouldn’t have done that - you trusted me not to say anything about your feelings, and then I did. I fucked up - why aren’t you pissed right now?”

Before you could start to think of a reply, the door behind you opened. Keiji’s bed head popped out.

“Can you guys be quiet?”

“Sorry,” Kuroo immediately replied.

Then, Keiji turned to you. “Can you come back to bed? It’s cold.”

You nodded, and Keiji went back inside, and the moment you looked at Kuroo’s face, you knew he’d figured things out.

“Did you guys fuck?!”

You had no response. Keiji, however, called out a simple, “Yeah,” leaving you covering your face in embarrassment.

“Holy shit. I -”

You went back into your bedroom before he could even finish his words, slamming the door in his face so he couldn’t finish his boasting. But you heard him say, “You’re welcome!” before finally trodding off, and you shook off your embarrassment as best as you could.

The breakfast you needed minutes ago was long forgotten as you looked at the view in front of you of the boy who was yours. Keiji was waiting for you with sleepy eyes peeking up at you from soft sheets, a grin on his face, and his arms open.

He didn’t have to say a word - you were in those arms in seconds. Both of you released a sigh of relief; Keiji was warm again, and you were being held by him again.

“Finally.”

“I was gone for, like, two minutes, tops.”

“I don’t care,” he replied. “It was long enough that I got too cold without you here.”

You felt like you should have more to say, but you didn’t.

You’d spent years hoping for a moment like this. It was as soft and golden and happy as you’d ever dreamed, and moments like those didn’t need words. You knew how Keiji felt, and despite all your attempts at hiding, Keiji knew how you felt, too.

And in that moment, when the two of you were lying in the afterglow of intimacy from the night before, finally knowing is all that mattered.

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 2: royal

#kinktober 2020 #not family friendly #akaashi keiji #Akaashi Keij #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

3K notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

ღ what being loved by them feels like | bnha edition ღ

➳ incl. midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, and kirishima.

➳ tags / warnings ;; food ment, alcohol ment.

➳ wc ;; 1.9k

➳ a/n ;; should be gn i think but im tired asf so lmk

i. midoriya izuku

Slow.

It’s an unspoken promise of forever tucked under his tongue when he speaks to you. The comfort of a strong hand on your shoulder, an arm around your waist as he whispers to you some drunken secret. It’s not meant to be romantic, not exactly - when your friends ask you about it you always respond the same way.

“It’s just Midoriya,” with a passive glance somewhere else, a dismissive hand shaking away the disbelief that someone so extraordinary could love you. It is disbelief, effervescent in how it fills your stomach with that tingly feeling. Midoriya takes it slowly.

Being loved by him feels like a Sunday. Not in how it’s the mark of something but a reminder of repition, how good it feels to do something over and over again. There is so much to love about a Sunday afternoon, the comfort of knowing there is always another Sunday that comes after. That the luxury of warmth that stretches so far it is no longer a commodity.

You don’t have to worry about when the next time will be. Midoriya loves you in a such a way that next time is every time. That your happiness is not something to supplement but to nurture - with presence and patience and tender care. You wonder how someone with such reckless abandon can love so carefully, with nimble fingers that zip up the back of your dress when you ask.

Midoriya loves you with his hands. Always with gnarled flesh and scars to the bone - that brush so eagerly against your own. Sometimes, he blushes. He never gets used to your comfortable intimacy - not at first. That slow love has a habit of being embarassing. It’s friendly, supposed to be anyways. But something about the way he’s encased your hand with his, the silence the blossoms and blooms. You wonder if he’s always been so warm - you tell him as much.

He replies with a gentle voice, a wistful smile and reply - “Only for you,”

You stare at him, wide-eyed - like somehow this is some kind of confession, and he laughs. He laughs deep from his chest and the sound is too much. Midoriya has loved you so slowly, you seem not to have realized that every word from his mouth is a confession. It’s sweet, sticky like honey how it drips onto your tongue. You find yourself drinking it without thinking, without realizing how it’s the only thing you can taste when he’s next to you.

Being loved by him is a slow feeling - the kind of love that stretches comfortably over time like old jeans. He always seems to fit you just right, like he was made for you. He likes to think so, anyway.

ii. bakugo katsuki

Sober.

It’s the kind of love you’d expect to intoxicate you. Rattle inside of your lungs as it pushes against your ribs, the kind that makes you drunk off of adrenaline. There’s something about him that is fast, like the flash of an explosion. You’d believe he would love you before you could catch him in your palms. It is a cold can of coffee pressed to your cheek, a clanking knee as you sit next to each other on the concrete.

You are fallen trees, a reminder that even something with roots need someone to hold them sometimes - that is natures will to lean against each other when the world has stopped holding you up. That when you are to fall, someone will be there to listen to the sound of your melancholy. He is evidence of your sorrow, the one that keeps you steady when gravity has failed you not once, but many times.

He holds your face in his untrustworthy hands, the ones that carry the weight of his violence. Clicking his teeth as he leans your head back, wiping the corners of your mouth of crumbs with his thumb, wet with his saliva. Something off-handed leaves his lips, something like “eat carefully, dumbass,” right to the core of your humanity as you move forward.

Being loved by him is like hangover food. It’s the sated warmth in your belly, settled in your chest. Your mouth enveloping a comforting thing - leaves your body so light, you don’t ask about when the next time you’ll have it. This is enough to feed you - hold you off until your body needs to feel full again. You are never hungry. Satisfaction without sedation. A love without any misery. It is fullness that keeps you steady.

It’s when he touches you. He uses a strong hand to push your knees down from where they’re tucked, drags you to him until your weight leans on his lap. He enraptures your body like you are something to be kept safe. Keeps you and holds you there when you bristle in discomfort. His chin rests on your shoulder as he holds you to his chest.

“Why do you love about me, anyway,” you ask, mumble quietly like you are afraid he will hear you.

“Everything, dumbass,”

He means it like he only does with you. When your heart doesn’t race, doesn’t run, doesn’t flee from his love but slows, steadies and waits. He won’t let you escape from his sincerity. He keeps you in the center of his love - in the palm of his hands because you are the everything. You must face it with sobriety. A mind free of any misgivings, a heart that beats in sync with his like a soft thump. A familiar, shared rhythm.

Love that leaves you fixed in middle court, with the lights left to create halo around you. A temperate, sober love.

iii. todoroki shouto.

Heavy.

It’s not an unpleasant weight to bear. Love that is given carefully, like a mallet on hot iron - it strikes you before it becomes something. It’s love that is tangible, before it is anything else. It curves the wires around you, makes a frame of your body before it covers you with fur to keep your warmth. You are the muse for the sculptors hands. Once he has found you, his gaze is funneled towards the curve of your smile. There is nothing else for his sights to linger on, nothing else for him to see.

His stormy eyes speak languages that have been lost to the common tongue. They are the ones that whisper melodies of you - that squint and widen and shift to the sound of your beating your heart. Todoroki loves you like he is re-learning an ancient tongue - which is to say, he is trying to remember what love feels like as he has long forgotten it. With clumsiness tucked into his belt loops, anxiety looped around his shoulders - always reminded of the kind of lover he cannot be for you.

His love is heavy because he puts himself into it. It’s heavy like the spring downpour, showers you until your skin sticks to your clothes and hang and clings desperately to your frame. You give up warmth for invigoration - how your soaked bones feel so lively as love washes over them. Cleansing like a baptism and thrice as holy, Todoroki’s love is what’s like when he meshes all of himself. Not ice that freezes, nor fire that scorches but a heavy and forgiving rain.

It is an easy morning - the comfort of a chest and its lungs - soft, even breathing as world becomes quiet outside. Fingers that dance over your sides, trace little artworks down your side and on your hips - lips that kiss the crown of your head. It is the warm hello as your eyes flutter open, the way his gaze pins you to your bed and makes sure it’s the last place you want to be.

His love is heavy, so heavy that every word of love he’s ever told you, you carry. It brings you strength when he tells you

“Good morning, my love,”

“Shouto,” you will mumble, with drooping eyes. Todoroki will smile like a half-moon, taper into a full grin until you can see his joy on display. He knocks his forehead into yours with something needy on the corners of mouth. He finds himself overwhelmed, wraps his arms all around you and squeezes.

“Sho, baby - you’re heavy,” through a series of giggles. He sighs, buries his nose into your shoulder and hums some song he’s made just for you.

“Sorry,”

“Don’t be,”

iv. kirishima eijirou

Aching.

It aches like a bruise weeks after its arrivals, a dull and gentle kind of ache that doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. It’s not that Kirishima makes you ache, but that loving him is a reminder of your growing pains. To love so much it aches is to love hard enough to bruise, to crush your ribs in the pursuit of adoration. It is the way his large palms rest at the nape of your neck, smooth down your chest with a comfort of presence.

It’s the hand that holds onto yours a little too tight, the way he grips onto you like you are going to disappear. He loves like how an ache stays - refuses to go anywhere no matter how much medicine you take. Love sickness is a deadly disease that creeps up on your spine. A bruise on your tailbone that doesn’t let you rest until you remember it. There’s such thing as a pleasant - like the kind of pains that makes us grit our teeth with a smile.

It’s yearning. The kind that takes place in ritual - the kind that you see when he takes your shoes off your sore feet. It’s the kiss on your calves and the strong hands that massage the knots in your legs, the whisper of “’m sorry,” when you help from the pain. It is love that hurts until it doesn’t anymore, until you realize that it had been trying to make you feel better all along.

After all, it is a growing pain - and all growing pains must stop aching eventually. Kirishima loves you and it hurts - it is like how we fall in love, afraid of what will find us when our feet touch the ground. Love without soreness is love without relief. It is a bruising force, and unwilling strength that only someone unbreakable could harbor. A wall that will never fall, a love that will never stop pushing. We must break something before it’s to be repaired, must break it down to it’s bare essentials.

His love is commiserating. It’s the togetherness that only dawn can bring when you’ve lost sight of everything but each other. The shadows of your lashes on your cheek and how he kisses them like they are going somewhere. Sunshine that brings pleasant warmth to your skin. Love that stains your skin, makes it thrum underneath the surface and runs through all of you like blood. It’s love that bleeds just as much as it heals.

Kirisihimas love is nothing short of an aching - a longing deep in your shoulders, settled in your collarbones. The kind that can only be soothed by endurance, acceptance. How he loves the parts of you that you cannot find beautiful. He faces it all head on like a wall must.

“Eiji,” with a trembling lip, a tired hand against his chest as he cups your face. You don’t remember why you’re crying but it aches a little when he smiles, grins with sharp teeth.

“I love you, baby,” he says with a trembling lip, wet eyes “God, I love you so much,”

#bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #writing tag #deku x reader

799 notes · View notes

itsallyscorner · 3 years

Text

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tags ↴

*@/username = Tumblr won’t let me tag you :( *

Tom Holland + characters Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading

#tom holland x singer!reader #Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland headcanon #avengers #tom holland drabble #mcu #tom holland blurb #marvel #tom holland one shot #ally’s request #thomas stanley holland #Tom Holland one shots

691 notes · View notes

eliemo · 3 years

Text

Snake Bite

Summary: Janus hadn’t meant to lash out. He’d just felt too much like a cornered animal, and now they all had an excuse to cast him out as the villain once again.

Specifically tagging @anothersanderssidesblog and @wyvern-tales

Based on This Wonderful Post

TW: Panic attack, brief mention of blood, sympathetic everyone

At this point, Janus wasn’t even sure what was being said anymore.

He knew everyone was yelling over each other, and he knew the anger and insults were all directed at him, but right now he didn’t think he could focus on the words even if he wanted to.

And he supposed, if it weren’t for the weight on his chest and the pressure building behind his eyes, his sudden lack of awareness would be a blessing.

He just wanted to go to bed. It had been a bad week, one inconvenience piling up after another, and he was certain if he didn’t get out of this room right now he was going to snap and say something he would regret.

But Roman was still ranting, arms waving as he paced Thomas’s living room, and Janus knew leaving now would only make things worse. He’d let the Prince get it all out of his system, smile like it didn’t matter, and sink out until everyone calmed down.

He understood why Roman was angry, and perhaps some of it was well deserved, but the tirade of shouting seemed entirely unnecessary.

Sure, maybe Janus shouldn’t have disguised himself as Roman after Thomas had summoned his sides for help, especially since he’d begrudgingly agreed not to shape shift since his name reveal, but today there hadn’t been a choice.

No one would have listened if he’d come as himself. Everyone was still wary around him, and they all seemed extra suspicious around him this week. He knew it was because he’d been a little short with all of them lately, but it wasn’t his fault he hadn’t been able to get a full nights sleep in weeks.

He’d been waking up every morning even more tired than he’d been when he’d gone to bed, limbs aching and heavy, and by the time he found the strength to force himself out of bed everyone had already been finished with breakfast, which ruled out any chance of friendly conversation or “bonding” as Patton so lovingly called it.

Not that he cared. He had absolutely no intention of sitting down for their little family meals, no matter what the nagging voice in the back of his head said.

Besides, he wouldn’t have been wanted anyway. Every time he so much as breathed Virgil would act like he’d just tried to set the house on fire, and Roman didn’t even try to hide his glares.

Logan just seemed uneasy, and Patton’s attempts to be friendly were so glaringly obvious and fake.

When Remus made his appearances, at least everything was honest and out in the open. Nothing could offend Remus, and besides filling Thomas’s head with less than ideal thoughts at night he didn’t really mean any harm.

Things were different with Janus, and he knew they always would be.

So, it wasn’t completely unreasonable that Janus was beyond tired and frustrated, and he knew Thomas was too thanks to his demanding schedule.

He needed a break, and Janus was determined to get him to see that. If he called off a few meetings, they could easily have the rest of the week off to recharge and Janus could figure out how to pull himself together.

But Thomas would never agree to a break unless his anxiety allowed it. And it didn’t matter if Janus was correct, Virgil would be caught dead before agreeing with one of Deceit's suggestions.

Virgil and Roman seemed to bond over their mutual hatred of him, so in a last ditch effort, Janus had disguised himself as the Prince and risen up with the others.

He hadn't meant any harm, and it had been going so well. Roman was distracted somewhere in the Imagination, and once he’d gotten Logan to see the logic in taking a few days off Virgil had almost immediately jumped on board.

And then of course Roman had returned just as they were wrapping up, the living room falling into silence as the two Princes stared each other down, and everything erupted into chaos.

Janus revealed himself, despite everyone already knowing what he’d done. He’d heard Roman shout a few things like “Villain!” and “Lying fiend” and the surprisingly hurtful “Why did we even give him a chance?” before he promptly lost the ability to make sense of anything happening around him.

He tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling to avoid having to see everyone’s stares (not to stop himself from crying, because he was not about to cry. He was used to being villainized, he didn’t care), and waited for someone to call Roman off.

But no one did, and suddenly Roman was right in front of him, jabbing a finger in his face, and Janus couldn’t catch his breath.

“You’re not even listening!” Roman shouted. “He’s not listening! What else have you been doing behind our backs you snake-faced lia--”

Janus didn’t even realize he was moving until his fangs were suddenly in Roman’s hand, fingers wrapped tight around Roman’s wrist, and he felt the Prince go completely still as Janus’s teeth sank into his skin.

It all happened so fast, Janus’s mind a frantic, racing blur as he pulled away, feeling horribly like a cornered, wild animal.

He had exactly two seconds to process what he’d done and collect his scrambled thoughts in the sudden, deafening silence before Roman seemed to realize what had just happened.

“He bit me!”

Patton was taking a step forward, and Janus backed away until he was pressed against the wall, wincing when he realized he could faintly taste something coppery in his mouth.

“Kiddo, try and relax,” Patton said, a hand on the Prince’s shoulder. “I’m sure it was just--”

“What, an accident?” Roman demanded. “Patton, he bit me! Like- like some kind of snake-faced demon! Pat, I’m bleeding!”

He was barely bleeding, the bite nothing more than two little pinpricks, and if Janus could find his voice he would have pointed out that Roman was behaving like an overactive toddler.

But he couldn’t. Because he’d been trying so hard to make progress with the others, to be seen as anything other than a lying villain, and one bad day had just undone all of that, completely erasing any chance he might have had.

Because as small as it was, he’d just hurt Roman. In front of everyone. In front of Thomas.

He watched as Logan took the initiative, hurrying to Thomas’s side and guiding him over to the couch.

Thomas looked pale and panicked, which meant that all the commotion was probably making Virgil—

Virgil. Janus couldn’t even bring himself to look at the stairs, painfully aware he’d just see horror and disgust...and maybe a bit of satisfaction. The anxious side had probably been looking for an excuse to send Janus away.

“I’m going to die!”

Janus was pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by a very loud, very distraught Roman who was diligently ignoring Patton’s frantic attempts to calm him down.

“I find that highly unlikely,” Logan spoke up. “While the reaction was completely unnecessary, the likelihood of Janus being venomous is--”

“Was this your plan all along?” Roman yelled, and suddenly his sword was in his uninjured hand. “To wait until our guards were down and then poison us?”

Janus felt numb. “I did not poison you--”

“How can I believe anything you say? You were just masquerading around pretending to be me trying to ruin Thomas’s career!”

“I’m not trying to ruin anything!” Janus couldn’t keep himself from snapping back, feeling abruptly trapped and suffocated. He needed to get out. “I’m doing my job. I’m trying to help. Thomas needs a break- we all need a break!”

“You don’t help Thomas,” Roman snarled, letting Patton pry the sword out of his grip, his bleeding hand held against his chest. “All you do is bring him down! All you do is try to hurt him!”

“Funny,” Janus snapped, well aware of how much power his next words held. “I remember you saying the exact same thing to--”

Patton was suddenly beside him, resting a gentle hand on Janus’s arm, and Deceit felt like he’d been electrocuted. “Kiddo--”

“Don’t touch me!”

Janus yanked his arm away, frantically scrambling away from the wall and nearly colliding right into the television. The room was silent again, but that hardly mattered as he realized with growing dread that he couldn’t breathe.

The room was going blurry, his vision hazy and distorted, and it took him a moment to understand it was because his eyes were flooding with unshed tears.

“Janus?”

He was sinking out before he could even try to identify the voice, rising back up in his room with a strangled gasp.

It felt like his chest was being crushed, everything too loud and too much even in the solitude of his room.

He threw his hat across the room, yanking off his gloves with trembling hands and letting them fall to the floor, grimacing at the glittering scales along his left arm.

He hated them. He hated every part of himself that made him different, everything that proved he was just a villain. Virgil could be accepted as one of them but Janus had no right to...to…

Janus was on the ground, his legs no longer able to support him, landing hard on his knees. He didn’t bother to fight against the sobs tearing at his throat. There was no need to hide, locked away in the seclusion of his room.

He ended up hunched over himself, wrenching sobs tearing their way out of him, his hands moving against his will to tug at his hair, scratch at his scales, pound at the floor- anything to try to unsuccessfully ground himself.

Anger and sorrow were waging a bloody war in his heart- anger at the others for being so cruel, anger at himself for allowing himself to lose control and hurt one of them.

Sorrow because...because he knew it was over now. There was no way to undo this kind of damage. He’d tried- tried to be one of them- and he’d failed. Miserably. Really, he never should have expected anything else but...well, lying to himself was a bit of an unbreakable habit.

They didn’t want him here. And Roman was right, he didn’t help Thomas.

When had Thomas actually listened to him? Just once after the wedding? They would have come to a conclusion without him once Patton calmed down a bit.

They didn’t want him and they didn’t need him. Nobody wanted a two-faced, monstrous villain. He’d tried, he’d tried so hard, but…

Virgil had tried to duck out once. He’d been lost afraid and alone, but…

But he’d been needed. He’d been wanted.

If Janus sunk out it would be different. But maybe...maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Thomas would be an honest person without Janus and...wasn’t that what they all wanted?

He buried his head in his sleeves in an attempt to muffle his cries, the sobbing becoming loud and uncontrollable, and if he had a little more control he might have laughed at the irony of it all.

Crying over being the bad guy. God, he was so selfish.

He was just barely able to hear the knock on his door in between ragged, hiccuping gasps, but the sound made panic burrow further into his chest, squeezing until he saw spots.

“Go away!” He screamed, voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t- I’m...fuck! Just leave!”

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if he screamed or yelled or hurt anyone, it didn’t matter if someone heard him breaking down. It wouldn’t matter if he just got a hold of himself and ducked out for good. The sooner they could all forget about him, the better.

But the door to his room was opening (he’d forgotten to lock it, stupid, stupid, stupid), and he quickly curled further in on himself, nails digging into his scalp.

“Jesus Christ, Jan.”

Janus shook his head at the sound of footsteps hurrying closer, flinching when someone grabbed at his wrists.

He tried to tell them to stop, to go away and leave him alone, but he couldn’t get the words out. Every frantic breath was more shallow than the last, and it felt like there was something beating at his chest.

“Stop fighting me, dumbass,” the voice said, and the shock at realizing it was Virgil was enough to clear his head for a split second. “Come on, look at me. Take a breath and look at me.”

Slowly, as Virgil pried Janus’s trembling hands away from his face, he carefully lifted his head to meet the anxious side’s gaze. It might have been his imagination, but he thought Virgil’s eyeshadow might be a shade darker than usual.

“Hey,” Virgil said with a small smile that didn’t match the distress in his eyes. “I need you to just focus on my voice right now. You’re having a panic attack.”

Janus shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor until Virgil squeezed his wrists slightly, prompting him to glance back up.

“I think I know what a panic attack looks like,” Virgil said, once again with that small, unsure smile. Janus thought this might be the first time in months Virgil hadn’t glared at him. “I’m gonna help you. I’m right here, ok?”

It was all backwards- Virgil shouldn’t be the one crouched on the floor talking a side down from a panic attack, he shouldn’t be forced to be anywhere near Janus who clearly made him so uncomfortable.

All he was doing right now was hurting Virgil, hurting everyone, and this wouldn’t be happening if he just wasn’t here--

“Hey, hey hey.” Virgil was suddenly readjusting his grip to take Janus’s hands, bringing them to his own chest. “You’re ok, you’re fine. I want you to copy my breathing now, can you do that?”

“I- I can--”

“You can do it,” Virgil said. “You used to help me do it all the time, remember? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, right?”

Janus swallowed and nodded, squeezing Virgil’s hands despite himself.

Virgil smiled back at him, and slowly began to count out the breaths, gently encouraging Janus each time he made it through a count, quickly reassuring him when he didn’t.

He sounded a bit like a mixture of all the light sides, and Janus briefly wondered how many panic attacks his new family had helped him through.

It felt like hours, but gradually Janus was able to begin to breathe on his own, his whole body still shaky and weak.

He took one last deep breath, and Virgil released his hands when he exhaled. Janus tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the loss of contact.

“You ok?”

Janus nodded, running an unsteady hand through sweat soaked hair, steeling himself enough to lie. “I...I’m fine. You can go now.”

Virgil scoffed. “Yeah, not happening. You’re gonna get cleaned up and calm down, and I’m going to sit here in case you need help. And then you’re going to let Roman apologize before he does something stupid and self destructive--”

“I don’t need an apology,” he snapped, and it would have been much more threatening if his voice wasn’t still shaking. “And I don’t want to watch you all force him to apologize for something he isn’t even sorry about.”

Virgil was watching him curiously as Janus attempted to get his half asleep, aching legs out from under him, furiously wiping at his soaked face with his sleeves.

He needed Virgil to leave and stop pretending to pity him.

“Why are you even here?” He’d meant it to come out as a snarl, but it turned into nothing more than a quiet, tired question. Virgil tugged at his hoodie sleeves, silent for a moment.

“You were having a panic attack.”

“Oh right, and you definitely care about that,” Janus said, finally pushing himself off the ground, grabbing his bed frame for support. “All of you made that perfectly clear today.”

Virgil moved to stand, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders hunched. “I know, I’m sorry. We...I should have stepped in. Roman was pissed and he gets carried away sometimes. I was serious about him wanting to apologize.”

Janus cleared his throat and ran his tongue along his teeth, wincing at the reminder of what he’d done. He glanced back at Virgil, at the sudden lack of contempt or distrust in his eyes.

“I would have thought you would be thrilled,” he said truthfully. “Today is the perfect excuse to finally get rid of me.”

And Virgil actually looked...guilty. The anxious side had never been one for eye contact, but now he was definitely doing all he could to look anywhere but Janus.

“You lashed out because we all ganged up on you after a long week,” he said. “I’d...kinda be a hypocrite if I held that against you.”

“I disguised myself. I said I wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“You did,” he agreed. “Because we made you feel like you wouldn’t be listened to if you didn’t, and I...I feel like that’s my fault. Jesus, you just wanted Thomas to take a break. So...yeah. I’m sorry I’ve been a jackass lately.”

“I…” he paused, clenching his jaw against the new wave of tears that threatened to spill over. “Virgil, I...I bit Roman.”

And Virgil actually smirked, like it was funny. “Yeah, and I know a panic response when I see one. Roman feels bad, Janus. We all do.”

Janus froze, wondering briefly if Virgil had just suddenly gotten better at lying since the last time they spoke. But his eyes were genuine, hopeful, and Janus found himself wanting so badly to drop his defenses and believe him.

“Look,” Virgil continued. “I don’t...completely trust you yet. But I know you want what's best for Thomas, even when we disagree. You’re a part of him and...and I know how it feels. To not be sure if you’re wanted. But...but you are.”

“Virgil--”

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” Virgil said. “You’re gonna clean up, and when you’re ready Roman is going to set aside his pride and apologize, Patton is going to smother you for a few hours, and Logan is going to ask you a bunch of invasive questions about your teeth because he’s a nerd. I can tell him to back off if you want me to.”

Janus let himself smile, small as it was, and he watched as Virgil took another step closer, the anxious side finally looking Janus in the eyes.

“And then Thomas is going to take a break,” he continued. “And you are never ever going to consider ducking out again.”

Janus paled, cold panic returning with a vengeance. “Oh, please. You know I would never--”

“Don’t lie to me,” Virgil said, voice low, and Janus fell silent. “I’ve been there, Janus. I know the look, and I know what it takes to push someone over the edge. You can’t fool me.”

Janus sighed, running a hand over his face. He was speaking before he could talk himself out of it. “You did it.”

“I tried to,” Virgil agreed. “I was wrong. Thomas needs me, and he needs you too. Nobody...No one hates you, Janus. I’m sorry things got this bad.”

Janus just shrugged, pushing back the emotions he wasn’t quite ready to feel, let alone share aloud. But it was...nice, he realized, not being given the cold shoulder anymore.

He hoped it lasted. He missed Virgil more than he was willing to admit. He...wished he was closer to all of them.

“I’m not upset,” Janus said, even as he wiped at watery eyes. “It’s just...been a long couple of days.”

It had been a lot more than just a long couple of days, but he figured Virgil knew that. The anxious side smiled sadly. “Well then it’s a good thing you convinced Thomas to take a break.”

“I just hope it helps.”

“Me too,” Virgil said. “Now go wash your face- you look awful. I can hang out here until you’re ready to see the others. Unless you, like, want me to leave. I can leave you alone.”

Janus smirked, finally starting to feel like himself as he straightened his cape and made his way towards the bathroom.

“I’d really hate it if you stayed,” he called over his shoulder. “You know I absolutely loathe your company, Virgil.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Janus let himself break into a full smile for the first time all day, closing the door behind him as he heard Virgil flop onto the bed.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan #angst #panic attack tw #sympathetic dark sides #janus angst #fanfiction #writing

1K notes · View notes

starrynite7114 · 3 years

Text

always you (angel reyes)

A/N: Good morning everyone! I know I haven’t posted in a while, and you all know why. Thank you all again for being very understanding, it was a rough couple of weeks, and I’m trying to push through the best I can. This story was supposed to be a one shot for a prompt request I received some time ago, but I’m glad I’m able to finally fulfill it. I wrote out most of it already so it should be posted every 2-3 days. I’m also finishing up Roommates this week, at least trying to!

Hope you all have been having a good week thus far! Hopefully it is also warming up! Exams have been killing me, but my last one is later today, so yay!

The new Mayans trailer looked amazing! Definitely getting the creative juices flowing, even for EZ.

Anyways, thank you all again, you are all the utter best!

Special shoutout: To @blackmissfrizzle, you fucking crazy, violent person, my second brain. Because of you, I got a Tiktok guy on here. But thank you for listening to my crazy ideas about this story, a story that was supposed to be a one-shot turned into a series cause of all of those videos, love you though. And to @angelreyesgirl you’re the one who helped me figure out as to why certain things happen in the story, thank you, I just, I love you, you already know this, no more sappiness from me today, maybe. Also, happy birthday!

Groupchat for updates! Please join since the tags could be a bit iffy at times!

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! My tag list is a little messy, but please let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist

Word count: 8657

Warnings: Mentions of stalker behavior, angst, smut

169: “ What a pretty sight. ”

187: “ Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you? ”

You sighed, the knocks on the door following the call you just received from Coco made you want to pull your hair out. This has been ongoing since you two broke up two years ago. It was routine at this point and you were slightly getting tired of it. He chose to let you go and here you were opening your door so Angel could spend the night after a drunken stupor.

“Sorry again hermana, you know I try to bring his big ass home, but you know how stubborn he is.” Coco assisted Angel inside your apartment with Gilly helping him out.

They assisted Angel down to your couch, he was barely conscious. He had this obnoxious smile on his face as he settled on your couch.

“Where’s my girl?” Angel called out as he grabbed a pillow, resting his head.

Gilly looked up at you and you shook your head. “She’s asleep bro, just go sleep.”

“Okay, I’ll go to her.” Angel attempted to stand up, but Gilly held him down.

“Hey, remember, you don’t like bothering her when she’s asleep.” Gilly reminded Angel.

“You’re right, I just want to tell her I love her.” Angel laid back down, his eyes closing.

Before long, Angel’s soft snores indicated to you all he was asleep. Coco looked at you as you looked at Angel, confused as always as to why he had to come to you whenever he was drunk. They’ve tried asking him, both Coco and Gilly, and whenever you saw him in the morning, you just gave him coffee and chose not to talk to him. He tried to make small talk with you, but you didn’t entertain it.

Angel chose to break up with you two years ago, your year and a half relationship down the drain. You didn’t fight him when he ended your relationship. You accepted it and attempted to move on.

Problem was, Angel didn’t let you go. His presence was still felt even though you didn’t see him. Then three months after your breakup, the drunken visits came. At times, he would talk to you when he would come drunk, but you chose to ignore it and just took care of him.

You wanted to turn him away, but you love Angel. It was hard not to do so. Whenever you would think you had the courage to turn him away, you would let him back in your bed just so you could hold him. It was unfair to you, you wanted to move on, yet, when you had the chance to hold him, you never passed it up. You were addicted and you would break the habit eventually, but Angel was just, well, he was Angel.

“Y/N, we can take him home if you want.” Coco hated doing this to you. He was there from the beginning and he didn’t want to keep dragging you back in Angel’s life. He knew how hard you were trying to move on, but it seemed like Angel held on.

“No, it’s okay Coco, just let him sleep.” You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, sighing as you draped a throw blanket over Angel.

“We can stay if you want.” Gilly offered. Much like Coco, he felt for you. You were a sweet girl, always nice to the boys and never made a fuss when Angel chose to break dates to hang out with them. For him, you were the ideal girl, you were reasonable, beautiful, and a hell of a cook. When Angel broke up with you, they planned to keep in touch, bug you every once in a while for dinner. But then they realized, Angel had no plans of letting you go either.

You chuckled and shook your head. “It’s fine, I’m sure you guys want a break from this guy.”

“We do, we really do.” Gilly agreed. “But we want to be here for you too, why did we bring him here man?”

“You gonna try to argue with Angel? He’s fucking unreasonable when he’s sober, it’s another thing when Don Quixote over here is drunk.” Coco shook his head. “If you need anything, just call me.”

“Call us.”

You nodded your head. You gave the two Mayans a hug before closing the door behind them. When you turned back, you gasped when you found Angel standing.

“Let’s go sleep?” His eyes were opening and closing and he was slightly swaying. You took one of his arms and led him to your room.

This was how it always ended. Regardless if you put Angel in your guest bedroom or the couch, he always ended in your bed.

You assisted him on your bed, going back to close your door. Angel took off his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers. “I love you.”

Your heart clenched hearing him say that. He always told you he loves you. Without a fail, he always did, when he was visiting you intoxicated. Yet, you never felt it, especially with the way things ended. And he never said it when you were together. You did, and that’s when things went downhill for you two. Holding on to the doorknob, you tried to stop the tears from coming. Angel was watching you, waiting for you to come join him on your bed. He just wanted to hold you.

“You coming?”

You nodded your head and went to your side of the bed as Angel scooted up to his. Moving the blanket, you two settled under the blanket and Angel pulled you flush against him. He caressed your face, before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Looking up at him, he was looking down at you, he was caressing your face again.

“What a pretty sight.” He sighed.

Your head rested on his chest and you eventually heard his breathing even out. You’re not sure how much more you could take of this.

You had to move on.

It was time.

The next morning, you hoped it’s one of the days that Angel left while you were asleep. And he did, which you were thankful for. It was always awkward when Angel was still here when you woke up. Rolling over to the side, you sat up, slipping your glasses back on. Yawning, you checked your phone and had a few messages from Coco and Gilly, one from EZ.

Choosing to reply later, you placed your phone back on your dresser and stood up. Stretching as you let out a yawn, you walked out of your room and froze when you heard movement in your kitchen. Rushing back in your room to get the bat you had for protection, you made your way back towards the kitchen, peaking in and found Angel. You contemplated pretending to go back to sleep, but Angel’s voice stopped you.

“Don’t even think about pretending to go back to sleep, I made you breakfast and you have work in an hour and a half.” Angel called out.

You sighed. Placing your bat at its spot in your room, you go to the kitchen and found Angel making a plate. He handed you the plate and you murmured a thank you. Sitting at the dining table, you made sure to sit on the other side since the two chairs beside you were full of presents you have yet to wrap for Christmas. You still had time, but your dining table was basically full.

Angel smirked when he saw where you were situated. You acted as if he wasn’t with you for four years. He placed his plate down at the other end of the table. Moving your stuff to your coffee table, you opened your mouth to protest, but Angel already placed the presents down.

“You don’t have to move them, there’s plenty of room.” You protested.

“Away from you, yes. But I want to sit next to you.” Angel moved his plate and sat beside you. He shot you a smile before picking up his fork. “Come on, eat up.”

“Angel, this really isn’t necessary. I can just grab something on my way to work.” You didn’t like spending time with Angel, especially in this way since it still struck a chord with you. The familiarity of it was a painful memory of what was let go two years ago.

“It would be rude for you to not eat after I made your favorite.” Angel knew you couldn’t resist a good omelette filled with spinach, bacon, sausage and cheese. “Please, let me do this for you, you did me a solid, again.”

Picking up your fork, you began eating. Letting the silence enveloped between you two. This was better. You didn’t want to talk to Angel. You didn’t want any thank you’s or apologies, you just wanted him to go so you could pretend that the other didn’t exist again.

Angel watched as you ate, keeping your eyes on your food. He hated how he did this to you, how you couldn’t even look at him. Every time he became highly intoxicated, Angel refused to go anywhere but your place, since it’s when he needed you most. Angel hardly drank himself to a stupor, but when he did, he was mostly troubled and was trying to forget the issues that were weighing heavily on him. Even though it’s been two years, you were one of those issues. He saw you around town often and it hurt him whenever he did. You were so close yet so far away. He knew that Coco and Gilly hang out with you every once in a while. Every day, it was a struggle for him to not see you, talk to you, hold you and be with you.

So he came up with this ridiculous plan after you accepted him into your home one night after he got drunk.

Whenever missing you became too unbearable, he got wasted and refused to go anywhere but your place. He was always aware enough to know he would be brought to you. And once he was with you, you would take care of him. He felt somewhat bad, but he didn’t know how else to approach you.

“Are you busy tonight?” Angel broke the silence between you two.

“What?” You had to make sure you heard him correctly. Looking over at Angel, he was waiting for you to reply. “I have a dinner thing.” A lie, and you were almost sure Angel could see right through it, but you didn’t want to think that. You could pull this off.

“A dinner thing?” Angel raised an eyebrow, amused by your choice of words. “Sounds like a fake thing.”

“Doesn’t matter to me if you believe me or not, I have plans.” You had finished your food. Picking up your plate, you placed it in the sink and turned to face Angel who was still sitting down. “Don’t worry about the dishes, I can do them. Also, I’m not really sure why you always decide to keep coming to my place when you get drunk, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t come here anymore.” Your best friend, Marie had advised you to create boundaries, to tell Angel that you no longer want him coming over whenever he was intoxicated.

That it was time for you both to stay away from one another like you intended to do so when he broke up with you.

“Querida.” Angel stood up, but you shook your head, holding your hand up.

“You wanted to break up, we’re done Angel. As much as I want to be there for you, I can’t keep doing this and hurting myself. You chose to let me go, so go.” You left the kitchen and entered your room, locking the door.

Angel watched as you walked away, telling himself to run after you, but he couldn’t. He’ll let you walk away for now, but after you put such a decisive end to this whole thing, he couldn’t just let go. It may be selfish, but living without you for the past two years further opened his eyes.

He wanted to be with you and just you.

It’s always been you.

=================

A month without any incident with Angel. You're glad he has finally decided to leave you alone. Coco had texted you a few times expressing that he was proud of you about putting your foot down with Angel. EZ has been frequenting the library more as of late, and he’s either had Marie with him, his girlfriend, or he came by himself.

A new year and new decade ushered in a new era for you.

You caught EZ coming in, a smile appearing on your face.

“We got that book you’ve been waiting for, I saved you the copy since it was the only copy we got.” You grabbed the book and handed it over to him.

“Thanks Y/N.” He looked around. “Um, did Coco come? Or any other Mayan?”

“No,” you gave him a confused look. “You’re the only Mayan that comes during business hours. The others usually come when the library is closed waiting for me to make sure I made it home safely when I was still dating Angel.”

EZ opened his mouth to apologize but you held your hand up.

“Ezekiel, I’m not fragile, it’s fine to mention your brother.” You laughed lightheartedly to lighten the mood. You knew EZ tried his best not to mention his older brother. “So you and Marie are getting serious?”

“Something like that,” the sheepish smile on Ezekiel’s face made you want to pinch his cheeks. “Just put a good word for me.”

“A good word? My best friend hates hanging out at the library with me, yet, she comes here to what? Watch you read?” You loved teasing Ezekiel. You were glad when he got out of prison, the way everything turned out for him, it was awful but you were grateful he was getting another chance at life. “You should at least take her out on a date.”

“Look, don’t judge me, I just got out of prison.”

“It’s been two years.”

“Alright, fine, Marie is just intimidating. One day she seems impressed with me, the next she’s not into it.”

“I think you’re reading too much into the situation. You two have been talking for four months now and you still haven’t asked her out. Marie is simple, start with the movies.” You suggested.

“That’s fucking lame though.”

“Okay Netflix.”

“How about the fair? You and Angel can be like our chaperone.” EZ was trying to help Angel, soften you up some, but you were pretty good at blocking EZ’s charm.

You looked at EZ for a moment, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Nice try.”

EZ smiled and took the book to his usual corner at the library. You knew your best friend would be bursting through the door in the next thirty minutes. Marie and EZ have been playing the flirting game for the last year and have been officially talking for the last four months. It was cute and you were happy that Marie found EZ and vice versa.

You got on the computer, trying to organize the library website like you promised your boss that you would do. The door opened and you expected the usual coffee Marie brought you.

“I feel like I should start requesting for a pastry since you two use my library as your hangout spot.” You teased. “I’m glad you’re here, coffee will help me through the rest of my shift.”

“I didn’t bring coffee querida, but I can run and get you some.”

You froze. That wasn’t Marie’s voice. Looking up, you found Angel with his staple kutte on his back along with a navy blue button up. His body has changed over the last two years, his muscles were more prominent. You weren’t blind, you could appreciate Angel taking care of his body.

“Can I help you?” The professional tone killed Angel, but he was determined to break through that.

“Came to check out a book, maybe you can help me?” Angel leaned against the countertop of the kiosk desk. His scent hit you and it made you want to smack him. How dare this man? You wanted to move on, and you’ve been doing so well.

“I didn’t know you could read.”

“You know that’s a lie, I used to read to you while I fucked you.”

“Angel.” You hissed out his name, not wanting to yell.

Angel chuckled at your reaction. “Is it not true?”

“Listen, loitering is not allowed here.”

“That’s literally what everyone does around here.” Angel looked over at EZ and he shot his baby brother a smirk. “Well, I was looking for Stanford, I’ll be seeing you.”

You chose not to reply, saying ‘yeah right’ in your head. Marie walked in coffee and a box of Krispy Kreme in hand. The sigh of relief you let out was definitely noticed by her and her eyes immediately roamed the library to see if your creepy admirer was around, but instead she found EZ and Angel.

“Never pegged Angel as a library type of guy.” She placed your drink on the countertop.

“He actually loves poetry, he really likes the European writers, British novels mostly Pride and Prejudice, Frankenstein, Jane Eyre, Shakespeare.” You mouthed off Angel’s interest which never surprised Marie. When you love someone, you made it a mission to know that person, so you would know their ins and outs. You become invested in any relationship you forge since you rarely make friends as it was. It wasn’t about quantity, it was all about quality for you. A hard lesson you learned over the years. “He’s a big fan of Scarlet Letter and Invisible Man. But he really likes poetry from all generations, when we were still together, I got him a few poetry books from a few authors he liked.” You paused, realizing the tangent you went on. It wasn’t uncommon whenever you spoke about Angel.

Marie enjoyed it because she got to learn about her old obnoxious neighbor that never deserved her best friend. You met Angel through Marie and in some ways, she regretted letting it happen, but when she saw how happy you were, how could she be so opposed? Even with knowing Angel’s history, she had faith. But then Angel decided that the single life was more of a life for him, something you never knew about. You never wanted to know about it and she didn’t push you.

“It’s okay, I love your tangents, even if they’re about that asshat.” Marie rolled her eyes. “So, have you given any thought of going on a date with Tyler?”

“You mean your co-worker you always refer to as a man slut?”

“Bitch, we’re trying to get the pussy wet, not a serious relationship.”

“That’s a no.”

You and Marie jumped, not expecting to hear Angel’s voice.

“Where did you even come from?”

“You setting her up?” Angel ignored Marie’s question. He was going to bug you for the name of that author you always raved about when you two were together, but he became intrigued when he caught the tail end of your tangent about his interests. It was endearing for him to hear that you still knew so much about him, but his mood soured when he heard Marie trying to set you up. “Tyler, the douche that always gets drunk out of his mind at the clubhouse?”

“Again, just trying to get her dry spell to end.”

“I volunteer.” Angel smirked.

“Not interested.” You replied as you turned to face Angel. “We talked about this, please, just respect my wishes. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Hate to break it to you querida, the library is public property, unless I’m disrupting the peace, I have every right to be here as much as you do.” Angel placed his chin on his hand, smiling sweetly at you.

You grabbed the coffee and the box of donuts. “I’m going to take my break.”

Your co-worker, Sienna took over the kiosk desk, Marie making her way over to Marie. She knew you needed some alone time. As she passed Angel, she patted his back.

“Give her space, don’t push it.”

Angel wasted enough time. He knew you. It’s not that you didn’t want to be around him, you were just protecting your heart. He gave you five minutes before he followed after you, finding the trunk of your Toyota RAV4 opened. Walking over to you, he opened his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“Eugene, please, I’m on my break, I would appreciate it if you didn’t follow me.” Your day was starting to become shit since seeing Angel helped you realize that you weren’t over him. It’s been two years but due to his drunken escapades, it was hard for you to move on.

“Who the fuck is Eugene?”

“No one.” You didn’t want to tell Angel about Eugene. It’s not like he would care, but you haven’t exactly told Angel about how your kindness to Eugene went from endearing to him becoming obsessive. “Can I help you?”

“I was going to take a smoke break then I saw your trunk open.” Angel shrugged, taking note of the name Eugene so he could ask Marie later. “Can I join you?”

“No, I’m done.” You closed the box of donut, picking up your drink as you stood up.

“Come on, throw me a bone here. Can you give me a chance to explain?”

“Explain what exactly? Why you broke up with me? Why you kept me in your back pocket by being your go to house when you're drunk?”

“You gonna let me explain or are you gonna continue interrupting me?”

“I don’t care what you do, just please stay away from me. You’ve made your stance very clear two years ago. I don’t care why you came to me while you’re drunk, but it doesn’t matter. Don’t come to my job, don’t come to my apartment, just please stay away from me.”

“You don’t mean that.” Angel frowned. He didn’t expect things to go like this. Maybe he was an asshole or an idiot, but he expected you to welcome him with open arms.

“I do, I want to move on, build new relationships and be happy. I didn’t break your heart, I didn’t hurt you, if you don’t love me that’s fine. If you feel bad for what happened, you’re good, you’re forgiven.” You pressed the button that automatically closed your car. “I’m suffocating right? I’m too nice right? Then leave me alone.”

“You really just gonna walk away?”

You were about to answer Angel when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Looking to where you heard the voice, you saw Jay, your ex-boyfriend. Angel cussed under his breath when he saw him. Jay was a sore subject for Angel. You two rarely spoke about Jay and it was mostly due to the fact that Angel never brought him up. When you did bring up Jay, it was a rare occurrence. It’s not that Angel didn’t care about your ex-boyfriend, in fact, he cared too much. Too many times he’s heard people spoke about how epic you and Jay were together. The perfect couple that would have stayed together if you decided to go with Jay to Germany.

“Jay?” You hopped out of your trunk and was in disbelief. Jay, from what you knew, was still in Berlin, and wouldn’t be back for another three years. You kept in touch with him since you had a quite amicable break-up.

You two had dated for eight years before you two eventually parted ways. High school sweethearts, intended to last forever, but forever wasn’t a thing. You two broke up amicably and remained friends. It was hard not to be friends with a person you spent eight years of your life with.

It was your ex-boyfriend.

He couldn’t forget his name, he knew everything about the fucking guy. The first love, the one you would always love, that was the cliche, right? He remembered that he briefly met Jay before he left for Berlin once again. He was bringing you home after a catch up dinner with other friends and he saw just how your smile shone brightly around him. Jay was looking down at you, returning your smile as you animatedly spoke to him about something. You turned to face Angel and what he missed was how your smile changed, it was that smile specifically for your Angel. You had made your way towards him, wrapping your arms around him. Jay first met Angel then and much to your surprise, Jay took a liking to Angel, especially since he was a big fan of his Harley. Angel didn’t show much interest towards Jay, but you knew it bugged your then boyfriend how close you were to Jay.

Angel was not friends with any of his exes, but he also wasn’t with them for a long amount of time. If anything, you were his longest relationship. And seeing you react the way you did with Jay, he regretted it further that he let you go.

“Eugene is still coming here? You told me you handled that.” Jay was annoyed, you told him that you handled your too friendly library consumer. Jay stood at 6’4, 210 pounds, the Marines shaped him well.

You looked at Angel and Jay did as well.

“If you’re going to bother her when you’re drunk, you should at least get rid of her stalker.” Jay didn’t have a problem with Angel, but he knew Angel had a problem with him. He could see it when they first met. He couldn’t blame him, he rarely knew of exes that were friends, but Jay couldn’t exactly let you go.

You two grew up together, you knew him best.

“Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” You saw how quickly Angel’s face turned sour and you knew you could have a fight in your hands.

“Aright, let’s not do anything crazy.” You got in between them, with you facing Angel. “We’re done.”

You locked your car before making your way inside the library once again, dragging Jay with you, and leaving Angel to his own devices. The broken look on your face, he wanted to take that away, especially since he caused it. He loves you, he really did, he was just an idiot.

The fact that Jay was seemingly back in town, Angel had to make a move.

And you should know better, Angel was anything but a quitter.

=================

Angel walked in the library and found you talking to one of your co-workers. He saw her nudge you and your eyes met. Quickly you looked away, shushing your co-worker. Angel took his usual spot opening the book he had borrowed earlier in the week. You weren’t surprised Angel burned through books, people counted him out due to his affiliates, but you knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

Jay hasn’t been back since he saw him two weeks prior. Angel frequented the library and never saw a sign of him.

“You look beautiful Y/N.” Eugene, a regular at the library, complimented you. What started off as you being kind, feeling bad for a man who appeared to be a loner, was starting to make you feel uneasy. For the last three years, he progressively became bolder and you could tell that he was getting to the point where aggressive behavior was going to come out. Regardless of how nice you were, you always made sure he knew that you two were friends.

“Thank you Eugene.” You faked this small smile on your lips, but you didn’t want to provoke him. Sienna stayed beside you, she was more straightforward and had no problem telling Eugene to fuck off.

“Have you thought of my invitation for dinner tonight? My mother would love to meet you? I speak about you often with her.” The uneasiness at the pit of your stomach was unexplainable and Angel noticed the change on your face.

Sienna looked at you, her eyes slightly widening. She’s had enough of Eugene. It was small talk at first, but as of late, the man was beginning to be more bold. Starting with grabbing a drink or coffee, it evolved to having dinner at his place. You never entertained the idea and always let him down, but he wasn’t understanding.

“I’m sorry Eugene, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” You saw how his face slightly scrunched up, his voice slightly raising. A few of the library patrons looked over before going back to their book. “Stop being such a tease and just go to my place.”

Both you and Sienna were appalled by his suggestion. You never teased him.

“Excuse me? I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Oh please, with the skirts and dresses you wear, how do you expect anyone to not be teased by your clothing. Mother is right, you’re a slut, but no mind, I can repent you.”

Angel heard enough. You saw him from the corner of your eye.

“Call security, I’ll handle Angel.” You walked out of the kiosk and intercepted Angel.

“Let go of me, he’s not going to get away speaking to you like that.” The restrained tone in Angel’s voice made you nervous for Eugene.

“Please, Angel.” The way you whispered his name with a plea, it made Angel sigh deeply, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looked up at the ceiling.

“Make sure he’s gone when we get back.” He instructed Sienna. You led him to the restricted area of the library which was situated at the back. Older books or original versions of books were kept here, with only employees having access and at times guests who were accompanied by employees.

When you two were all the way at the back of the restricted area, you leaned against one of the bookshelves as Angel paced back and forth in front of you.

“How long has he been harassing you?” Angel questioned, continuing his pace.

“Angel.”

“How. Long.” He let out through gritted teeth. There was no argument. He let you take him away, you owed him this.

You didn’t want to tell Angel, it didn’t matter anyway. All you knew was that you had to take care of this, he was making your anxiety spike up. “Three years.”

“Three years?!” Angel’s voice echoed throughout the library.

“Angel.” You hissed, keeping your voice low.

“Are you fucking kidding me? And you never told me?” Angel didn’t heed your warning. He was livid. How could you not tell him, especially while you two were together?

“Eugene is harmless.” He shot you a look and you sighed. “He was harmless.” You amended your statement. “Angel, please, it’s okay.”

“No the fuck is not, the way he spoke to you?” Angel felt his temper rise again. Fuck security, he would beat the idea in to Eugene that he was to never breathe the same air as you again. “Wait, Jay knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

You cussed under your breath. You accidentally told Jay about Eugene. He was FaceTiming you when Eugene came in after hours. You were able to shoo him away since Jay was on the phone. You never even thought of telling Angel, you didn’t want Angel to make a big deal out of it and you honestly thought you were reading too much into it.

“I,” you sighed. “It wasn’t on purpose. Jay was FaceTiming me when Eugene walked in after hours.”

“Did you have him pretend to be your boyfriend?” Angel knew he was being unreasonable, but it irked him that your ex-boyfriend knew about your stalker and he didn’t. He was the one who was in Santo Padre. He was the one who could deal with it.

“No, Angel, it was years ago.”

“My fucking point exactly, it’s been years and you never told me. I was your boyfriend then, not him. How could you not tell me?”

“I don’t know, it was harmless, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Out of nothing?” Angel exclaimed, shaking his head at your ridiculousness. “We’re gonna fucking talk after this, this should have never been an issue.”

Before he could leave, you blocked his way.

“Move.”

You shook your head.

“Don’t act like I can’t just lift you out of the way.”

You weren’t exactly the lightest, and hardly looked like any of Angel’s previous girlfriends. You had meat on your bones and some people may poke fun at your weight, but Angel always made you feel like a queen. He loved your curves, kissed and worshipped every part of your body. Well until he broke up with you.

“Angel, please, just stay with me.” You wrapped your arms around him and he wrapped his arms around you.

“No, he’ll never learn his lesson unless,”

You cut Angel off by bringing his lips down to yours. Whenever Angel became irritated or upset, small touches or kisses from you would always calm his anger. You took a chance knowing Angel doesn’t exactly want you anymore, so you’re not sure what this would do for the situation, but you had to try. Angel immediately responded to your kiss, his hands cupping your face. One of his hands slid down to your neck, slightly moving you so you were against the bookshelves. His hand moved down, brushing against your breast causing you to moan. Angel’s tongue slipped in, deepening your kiss. He pressed you against the shelf, pulling away and pressing his forehead against yours. The anger that had overtook his body was gone, and was now replaced for a burning desire for you.

“You still taste so good.” Angel kissed you again, your back arching so your front was pressed against his front. One of his hands was sliding under your skirt, causing you to pull away.

“No Angel.” You shook your head, moving away from him to fix yourself.

Angel groaned, his dick was hard and he was at a library with no means of relieving it. He thought of anything that could help his erection to go away, his third grade teacher who was horrific to him did the trick. Turning to face you, he found you looking around before you took his hand and led him further down the restricted area of the Santo Padre library. It was an old library, built by the Spaniards when they were doing their missions along California. Bringing him to the last row where you knew there was an entrance to the inventory the library had for the restricted section. You knew no one ever went in there till closing. You didn’t want Angel to do anything to you, but you could definitely help alleviate some of his anger.

“Querida, where the fuck are we?” Angel looked around and the shelves were against the walls, a few shelves were in the middle of the room, otherwise, there were books everywhere. You led him to a desk that Sienna used to organize the unlabeled books. You pushed Angel down onto the office chair. He watched as you sunk to your knees, your eyes focused on unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. “Hey, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I want to.” You lifted your eyes to meet his and the softness in his eyes was such a stark contrast from earlier where they were dark, anger obviously apparent. Now, it was adoration and lust that clouded his iris. You tugged on his jeans, which Angel assisted you with, lifting himself up so you could pull down his jeans and boxers. Smirking, you wrapped your hand around his semi-hard cock, using some of his pre-cum to help your hand glide down with ease. Angel groaned, leaning his head back. It was his weakness, watching your beautiful lips around his cock, trying to take in as much of his cock, he was a goner whenever you did that. The way your eyes would water, your cheeks hallowed, your mouth full of him, the image alone could make him cum. But he always held back, letting himself enjoy you.

“Fuck, look at you mi sol,” he watched as you spat down on his cock, holding his thick member with one hand. Placing a kiss on the tip of his cock, you looked up at Angel as you opened your mouth to take him in. Just as he taught you, you took Angel until you could not take any of him anymore, moving your head back up, his cock sheath with your saliva. You took him in your mouth once more, Angel gathering your hair in one hand. He loved your eyes on him. Those hooded eyes under those thick black rimmed glasses of yours. You move your mouth up and down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him whenever his tip reaches your gag reflex. You let go of him with a pop, your hand replacing your mouth. “That’s right baby, take your dick and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Angel tried not to lose himself with you, but any part of you that was connected always felt so good for him. He didn’t know what it was but everything he did with you was a hundred times more intense when compared to others.

Placing two hands on his cock, you had your mouth on the tip of his cock, running your tongue over and over again over Angel’s sensitive cock. He moaned out your name, gripping your hair tighter. You were licking his cock like it was a tootsie roll lollipop and you were trying to get to the center. You moved so that your tongue was moving up and down his shaft, getting to the top and engulfing his tip with your mouth. Angel groaned, throwing his head back, licking his lips as you continued to bob your head up and down. His hand assisted you, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, swallowing around it.

“Holy fuck princesa, keep going I’m about to cum.” Angel moaned. “You want me to cum in your mouth baby? You gonna swallow daddy’s cum?”

You chose not to answer and continued your ministrations. Just as you felt Angel’s cock pulsing in your mouth, you pulled away, placing a kiss on his cock. Angel slammed his hand on the desk, grabbing your hair.

“You really want to play with daddy?” His face was so close to you, your hand still around his cock. You tightened your hold, moving your hand up and down causing Angel to close his eyes. He moaned out your name, further dampening your panties. “Put your mouth back on my cock so I can fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You followed Angel’s instructions, taking him back in your mouth. Angel began to thrust up in your mouth, tears forming in your eyes as he moved in and out of your mouth. Your hands rested on Angel’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. He chanted your name before he came in your mouth, holding your head against him. You swallowed some of his cum, keeping some of it in your mouth. He let go of your hair, saying how much of a good girl you were for swallowing daddy’s cum. His cock was still semi-erect and you smirked, dropping some of his cum on his cock, making Angel groan as he felt himself hardened again at the sight of you using his cum as lubrication, moving your hand up and down once again.

“God, my dirty little librarian.” Angel always fantasized doing numerous things with you in the library. You weren’t opposed to it, but Angel hardly came to pick you up from your work. And now, Angel regretted that.

You placed a sweet little kiss at the tip of his cock before you stood up.

“Stay here, I’ll get you some paper towels.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Let me make you feel good.” Angel smirked when he saw your breast just calling to him. You balanced yourself on the arm rest of the arm chair. Your dress was sinful since it was this black cami dress that you usually wore a cardigan with. He knew without that cardigan, all those fuckers that pretend to go to the library for books would be staring straight at your ample breast. And even though you were wearing leggings under, the imagination was running wild. “Where the fuck is your cardigan?” He hated how your breasts were just out in the open, even though your dress did cover your cleavage well, Angel had fucked you too many times in this dress, pulling the top down, watching as your breast bounced up and down as he fucked you.

“No, it’s okay, I just wanted to make you feel good.” In reality, you were ashamed you let this happen. For two years, you did nothing with Angel besides cuddling and now you not only kissed him but you gave him a blowjob. The only reason you did it was because seeing how protective he became over you, it made your heart melt. “I left it on my chair.” You bit back a moan as Angel grabbed your breast.

“What did daddy say about this dress?” He pushed one of your straps down, licking his lips as his eyes focused on your beautiful skin, calling him to mark it.

“Angel,” you whimpered as he pulled a part of your dress down, your naked breast immediately greeting him.

“Where the fuck is your bra?”

“It has a built in one.”

Angel wrapped his hand around your throat, making you look at him. He growled, squeezing your breast, taking your nipples in between his fingers.

“I’m gonna ask you one more fucking time, what did daddy say about this dress.”

“Not to wear it unless you’re with me.” You gave in and you couldn’t even be angry. Angel was doing a number on you. But you had to snap out of it, pleasuring him was one thing, but you didn’t want to go back there with Angel. “But we’re no longer together.” You moved away, fixing yourself. You were so wet, but you couldn’t give in to Angel.

“I can change that.”

“I’ll meet you at the kiosk desk.”

When Angel eventually joined you at the kiosk desk, you were surprised when he sat right beside you. Sienna threw you a smirk before finishing a few things around the library since you were set to close in forty-five minutes. Eugene was escorted off of the property, but you knew he would be back. You should really be more stern with Eugene, but at the same time you knew he found solace in the library since it was his time away from his mother.

You were organizing a few things at your desk, trying your best to avoid Angel and making yourself look busy. His eyes were on you, you could feel them.

“We’re closing soon, you should go.” Boundaries, you shouted that in your head. Boundaries. You had to set up boundaries or you would be in this endless loop with Angel. There was no future between you two, there was no point of prolonging the inevitable.

“I’ll wait just in case he’s waiting for you outside.” Angel’s voice was strained. You knew he was upset about your comment earlier.

“He won’t be, this isn’t some crime drama.” You tried to lighten the mood, but that seemed to upset Angel further. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He leaned in, so only you could hear his words. “Stop it, I’m not leaving you, I’m going to make sure you’re fucking safe. You chose to hide this from me for years and now that I’m in the know, you’re not going to be a fucking statistic.” He took the cardigan that was resting on your chair, and placed it over you. “Wear your fucking cardigan. You think just because we’re not together you’re no longer mine?” Angel chuckled. “You’ll always be mine, you can fight it all you want, but you shouldn’t fight the inevitable.”

“I’m not yours, there’s no fighting anything. We’re not together and it’ll remain that way.” You moved away from him, focusing your eyes on the computer in front of you once more.

The library was finally closed and as Angel promised, he remained by your side. You stood up gathering your things and you saw Sienna making her way towards the door.

“Hey! Are we still meeting at that new Thai place?”

Sienna was about to confirm your plans when Angel shook his head behind you. She refrained from smiling and shook her head.

“Sorry babe, my man just texted me. He’s having some technical difficulties at home. Rain check?”

“Sure.” You smiled and waved her goodbye. You could feel Angel behind you, his heat was just radiating. “Hey, so, I have to do inventory. You can sweep the parking lot to see if he’s there, but otherwise, we’re good. Thanks again for standing up for me.” You didn’t want to face Angel, you were nervous about what you would see. Resisting Angel was difficult and you just had so much willpower left. You never felt your dry spell, it never bothered you, until today. Now you really had to get laid.

You felt Angel box you in, his front against your back. You felt his hot breath against your skin. “Are the cameras on?”

“Huh?” Being in such close proximity to Angel, you wanted to close your eyes, bask in the feeling, but you have to set up boundaries.

“Are the cameras on?” Angel repeated his question.

“No, Sienna turns them off, only the outside cameras are on.”

“Good.” Angel placed his hand on your breast, grabbing it through your dress. Placing your hand on top of his, you incidentally intertwined your hands, with your hand on top of his as his other hand slid down your dress starting from your chest down to your abdomen and under your dress, pulling down your leggings. You felt him smile against your ear when he felt just how dampen your panties were. “You’re so wet, is this all for daddy?”

You whimpered when you felt Angel press against your clothed pearl. He squeezed your breast making you let out another whimper. “I didn’t hear an answer.”

“Yes daddy.” Your other hand grabbed Angel’s before he could move your underwear to the side. “Angel, let’s not do this.” Your mind screamed boundaries while your heart said fuck it.

“Why baby, you let someone else touch my pussy?” Angel swatted your hand, slipping his fingers under your panties. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, stretch out this pussy.”

Your phone began to ring and you immediately grabbed it. It was Jay, your ex-boyfriend. Angel saw the name and growled out your name.

“If you answer, I’m gonna make sure to make you come while he’s talking to you.” Jay was a sore spot for Angel. He was your high school sweetheart. The one that supposedly got away. Fuck that, Angel refused to acknowledge that. Jay was a part of your past, one he never wanted to address since he made him feel even more insecure about your relationship.

Angel ran a finger up and down your slit, slipping it past your entrance shallowly, moving his finger tip in and out. It was just enough for you to feel him, but not enough.

You let your phone ring, focused on the sensations or lack thereof that Angel was providing.

“You want my finger all the way, so you can feel my rings against that pussy?”

You nodded your head, loving the feel of Angel’s hand against yours. His hands were always so fucking big, it made yours feel small.

“Naw, I know you got a voice,” he kissed your ear, nipping at it. “Fucking use it.”

“Yes, please daddy.” You begged.

Angel chuckled lowly and slipped his finger further in, adding a second finger. “Tight as always, no one touched you baby?” His thumb landed on your throbbing pearl, tapping it.

“No daddy, just me.” You didn’t want to disclose with Angel that Marie’s words were true about your dry spell. You felt him add a third finger and you threw your head back, your head landing on Angel’s shoulder.

Angel wrapped a hand on your throat, chastely kissing your cheek. He kept his lips on your cheek, his breath against your skin further turning you on.

“Did you use that toy I got you?” He questioned. He was rubbing his clothes erection against your back, the friction was amazing, but you knew it would be so much better when it was his bare skin against yours.

“Yes daddy, I did.” You were clenching Angel’s fingers, his fingers tightening around your throat.

Just as Angel was about to unzip his jeans to slide on home, the door opened. You tried to move away from Angel, but all he did was fix your dress and kept you pressed against him. Jay looked at you, the swollen lips, the disheveled state and the smug look on Angel’s face gave it away.

“Was I interrupting?” Jay questioned, walking further inside the library.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You and Angel answered at the same time. He looked down at you, but you kept your eyes on Jay.

“You said you wouldn’t be back till next week.” You really wished Jay didn’t come, but at the same time you were glad he came. You were going to cave to Angel and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I decided to surprise you.” Jay leaned against the kiosk desk once he arrived, smirking. “You could have continued Reyes, I don’t mind watching.” The smugness on Jay’s face irritated Angel.

You sighed and pushed Angel out of the kiosk desk. “Go home Angel.”

“I’m not leaving you with this guy.” Angel stood his ground. Jay wasn’t your man, and he never would be again.

“She’s safe with me, go back to your little club, fix bikes, fuck bitches, and sell drugs.” Jay knew what the Mayans were, he’s had his fair share of run ins with them over the years. He was friends with Neron, a gym buddy of his you could say and he served time with Johnny in the Marines.

“Jay!” You hissed.

Angel just smirked and shook his head. Jay wasn’t worth it, not yet at least.

“I’ll see you later querida.” He brushed past Jay. It took every fiber in his body to not knock him out.

There was a time and place.

His main goal right now was to get you back. You two had plenty to talk about and Angel planned on discussing things with you. He wasn’t going to let Jay weasel his way back in, especially since he may never let you go again.

Angel understood he fucked up.

He made a hasty decision.

But, it was a new year.

It’s 2020.

A brand new decade.

Your past grievances could be left behind in 2019.

Valentine’s Day was around the corner and he was determined to spend it with you.

Angel was more determined to win you back. That kiss, he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that undeniable spark between you two. And the sexual encounters you two just had, it left Angel wanting more, as he always had.

But he had to take care of Eugene and then Jay.

=================

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @anangelwhodidntfall : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespancakes : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life : @onmyspookysblock : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @un-poetryy : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33 : @incorrect-mcdanno : @that-chick212 : @imanerdychubbyqueen : @60shannon : @deeandbobbymcgee : @marquelapage : @justlikebreathing : @mindless-x-dreaming : @thesewordsareallihavetogive : @wiccanmetallicrose : @appropriate-writers-name : @likedovesinthewnd : @admirehermind : @krysiewithak : @helli4nthus : @robbosvgdens : @scuzmunkie : @proudlittlewitchbitch : @lilacyennefer : @witchyhours

#angel reyes #angelreyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfic

502 notes · View notes

sofiaaaaaaaa03 · 3 years

Text

Teaching Din Earth Music

Pairing: Din djarin x earthling!gn!teen reader (platonic)

Word count: 1,151

Rating: G

Scenario: You try to teach Din about earth music during one of your trips.

Authors Note: Hey lovelies, I hope you're having an amazing day. Please remember to drink water and eat something. I hope you guys enjoy this, sorry it's a bit tiny :)

Ever since Din caught you listening to earth music you’d grown more comfortable playing it while he was on board. On particularly long trips you made it a habit to put on some music to make the ride more entertaining. It was really only used when the two of you were too exhausted from chores or missions to bother making conversation. You enjoyed it, really. It reminded you of your home and your time on Earth. Now more than ever, wherever you go you notice the absence of music in the strange, hostile planets Din takes you compared to where it always seemed to follow you on Earth, playing in the air of cafes, stores, restaurants, and oh the car rides you and your friends used to share.

A tight lipped smile spread across your features. You wondered how they were doing. It’s not everyday your friend mysteriously disappears, let alone getting stranded in space in your case. But you consider yourself lucky. You glanced towards the Mandalorian beside you, piloting the ship. He’s shown you kindness in many ways, and took you in while you try to find Earth. It was a planet Din was unfamiliar with, even going as far as to say that it was considered a myth across many cultures in the galaxy. It would have been a waste of time for him to go out of his way to follow a silly fantasy. However, you could only assume something about you reminded him about himself when he was young, because despite this, he trusted your word, and genuinely wanted to help you return home.

In some weird trade off, you taught Din things about your home planet that were foreign and honestly strange in his opinion. A world where a majority of its denizens remain on-planet the entire time? He couldn’t believe it. He simply refused the concept of social media and antagonized the habits of posting oneself on vacation. Something about exposing your location. You didn’t mind it all too much to be honest.

Your favorite thing to teach him was earth music. It was so much more distinctive to the music you heard around the galaxy, where saloons played Jizz like there was no tomorrow. It was good music, you’ll admit, but nothing was like the variety of the music back home.

The data pad Din lent you laid on the ship’s mainframe, “Okay okay. You’re probably not going to like this since you have the mentality of a 40 year old man, but hear these out. A lot of people my age enjoy these songs back at home.”

It was natural to begin with songs that were trending the last time you were on earth. Din enjoyed some of the more upbeat songs, like Tongue Tied by a group called Grouplove.

“This is what we consider a coming of age song.”

Din gave you a questioning look and you continued. “On Earth we pass our time watching movies, stories acted out by humans that are recorded on a camera.”

“Your planet has too much time on their hands…”

“C’mon Din it’s not like everyone does it!” You defended, “People do it for a job, and only qualified people can. Anyways, that’s not the point. Some movies I grew up with have a point where the main character suddenly grows up, not age wise but mentally. Usually it's through conquering a fear or obstacle in the movie, and when that happens we-”

“Put a song like this in the movie?”

You made a little scoff, “Yeah, in the movie.”

“I suppose… it does evoke emotions like it wants you to. Put on another song, maybe one adults listen to.”

You paused for a moment to recollect the songs your parents would play back at home. They had a variety of artists that they listened to, but you smiled and tapped the data pad to play a song you think Din may like.

It seemed that The Chain by Fleetwood Mac intrigued Din, who tilted his head as the melody began. You waited until the chorus ended to ask Din of his opinion. He gave a nonchalant shrug and claimed that it was interesting before asking you to put on another song.

“Is this really what people my age listen to?”

“Honestly most men I’ve met your age listen to hard rock, but it’s their taste!”

“Earthlings listen to a rock?” Din turned to you in surprise and shook his head. He took the data pad from its place and looked through the playlist you were making. “No wonder you haven’t been off-planet yet.”

You took the data pad back from him and stuck your tongue at him, “I’ll have you know that 553 of us humans have been to space, thank you.”

You tried a couple of Journey songs, some that Din asked you to write down for him to listen to later, and showed some Queen classics. You noticed that Din wasn’t much of a fan for songs that were fan favorites like We Will Rock You or Bohemian Rhapsody (You genuinely thought you’d get him for the last one. All of your schoolmates would go nuts for that song) , but he did enjoy other classics like Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy, Fat-Bottomed Girls, and Radio Ga Ga.

“What were some songs you heard growing up?”

“Hm… to be honest I don’t remember all of them. The music all seems like a blur to be honest, guess that’s what happens when you grow up, things become a blur. Anyways,” You listed off some songs, making small talk about it but caught Din’s look of confusion and decided to play some off for him.

The razor crest was filled with a large assortment of music, ranging from ABBA to Harry Styles. Some songs, Din could get the concept very easily by listening to the lyrics while in others he asked you about its meaning. Songs about love, you’d noticed, were the hardest for him to decipher, even if the lyrics were plain as day.

After some time, you decided to ask him about it while Dancing Queen was on.

“I don’t understand,” You turned your attention to Din when he spoke, “If they want to dance with someone they should just go find someone. What’s the point of singing about it?”

You “They’re not singing about dancing with just anybody. They want to dance with someone who will be with them for the rest of their lives. Their special somebody. Y’know?”

“Hm.” He didn’t make another comment. There was nothing to fill the void aside from the occasional beeping of machinery. You wondered what was on his mind as you stared at the helmet that obscured his face. Come to think of it, you don’t know what he’s thinking even when he has his helmet off.

You broke the silence.

“Din?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever found your special somebody?”

...

Tag List:

@sagedgeek @kiara-is-gay @jupitersmooneuropa

224 notes · View notes

kawaiijohn · 3 years

Text

Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently. “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha. You've never said that to me before.” The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual. Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least. “Seriously, though. It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!" He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically. "But... it's kinda, y'know. Personal-” Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course. Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that). A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking. An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye. With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains. They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake. To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions. After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity? Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward. They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best. Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him. Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought. Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue. It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!” He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?” They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny. They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now). They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation. It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response. Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away. “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!! Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!” He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions. Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways. And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after. Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always. Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ . And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were. There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed. Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line. They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse. “Shit! I mean... uh crap??" They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present. "Never mind just... sorry for asking... Oh man! Did I offend you somehow? Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!” They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core. “We can just forget about it if-” Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development. Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did). Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is more than fine, Daniel. You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.” They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were. I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment." Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors. "Come along- it’s best we sit for this. I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms. “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.” They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time. They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed. Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry. The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.” Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme. Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile. “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz! Unfair!!” His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues. “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this? Well, there’s the universe right? Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends? But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought. Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige. They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all. The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call. Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’ The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought. “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish. “I got it!! The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept? Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’” Danny nods to himself. "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely. Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah! We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams? The Void or something, maybe? And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-” Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization. “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did. Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.” Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground. “Now then. We have drinks. We are sitting comfortably. I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.” They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute. It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life. They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night. Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm. Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive. Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt. “Wait wait- this realm? Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now??? Are you messing with me? Like… I thought it was all just-” The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone. Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered? Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet? The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin. Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts??? He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly. One you asked I tell you…” Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story. Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists? Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?” He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head. White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders. Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward. “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.” Another sip. Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always. They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously. ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you? Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning?? Could I shoot lightning if I tried? Like were you some sorta time wizard? Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?” Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age. He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid. “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story. The choice is yours, Daniel.” They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short. The best answer. “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue. “Now- to answer your last question… Yes. You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that. Other players, situations, and pure circumstances. The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.” Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul. “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response. “Wait... me? Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know?? Can that even happen???” Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself. The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache. “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that. You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.” They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?” Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers. The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently. After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again. “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once. It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter. “Did you just use sarcasm??? Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!” The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows. After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes. “But no. Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.” Clockwork waves their hand. The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes. They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender. The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story. “Do you understand what’s being seen?” The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two. Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

#danny phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #dp #phanfic #art #my fic #RRR #dantes vibe corner

68 notes · View notes