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citydreamgrls · 4 years

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a simple favour - part two

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 4,785

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

find part three here

“You did WHAT!” Ron was the first to respond to Fred’s confession. The rest weren’t far behind. Harry burst into a fit of nervous giggles, unable to truly contemplate it all George just switched up his facial expressions from confused to shocked to horrified over and over again. Hermione’s reaction was similar to Ron’s, as she threw herself into a flurry of telling Fred how mental he was, and asking him questions without waiting for answers.

All the while I sat in disbelief, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. I held my head upright, just a blank expression stuck on my face as I watched the wall, hoping that something would come to mind.

“YOU’RE FUCKING MENTAL FRED!’

“HAS SHE NOT GONE THROUGH ENOUGH?”

“GOD SHE’S ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS, THIS IS DISGUSTING.”

“Poor girl, you should be ashamed Fred.”

“And to think I ever looked up to you.”Ron huffed, setting Hermione off again.

“IS THIS YOUR IDEA OF A SICK JOKE?” She screeched, stopping everyone in their spiralling tracks, even making me look over to see what the twin would say.

“It- it just slipped out okay, but wait-” He stopped his brother from ripping his head off, “I think it might have done something.”

“Does he believe you?” I asked into the following silence, making him look at me with more of an apology than he had ever spoken aloud. “I can’t say for sure.. But he was definitely bothered by it.”

“And what if this is all he needs to get back at her, just a reason to hurt y/n?” Hermione asked.

Fred’s face dropped and he sighed with genuine regret, if what he was saying was true then it could go either way. Mclaggen could either get bored of seeing me with someone else and move on, or he could come after fuelled with jealousy.

“I’m sorry,” He finally spoke, looking over to me and keeping his eyes on mine as he carried on,“I know it isn’t ideal, but it could at least mean he isn’t as interested.”

“There isn’t much else we can do, is there?” My best friend replied, tying her hair up and sitting down in defeat.

“I suppose we better make him believe then.” I nodded, the words feeling heavy and wrong as they came from my throat. Nothing felt right about this, I felt bad for Fred having to lie for me and act as if he loved me just because some guy was being a creep.

Fred smiled weakly, he must have sensed my nerves. Or maybe I just wasn’t as good at hiding what I felt as I’d always presumed I was. Either way, he knew something about where my head was at. He was also right. This situation wasn’t ideal, but equally it was the only idea any of us had come up with that seemed to actually work in some way. Fred wasn’t malicious, he would only ever do this to help.

Now we just needed to pull it off properly.

None of us talked over it for long, no one really wanted to go into much detail of how soppy Fred and I needed to act around one another. No one less than Ron, who had a permanent scowl aimed at his brother as we discussed the plan. It all came down to what people outside of mine and Hermione’s room thought. It wasn’t just Cormac who we would be lying to, but everyone else in the school. If just one person caught wind that this was a set up, then it would be a wasted effort and I’d be stuck with a stalker for the rest of my time at Hogwarts.

“What about Ginny?” Harry asked, “Do we tell her?”

“She needs to believe it like everyone else,” Fred said. “If she thinks we’re together, then she’ll tell mum and dad straight away. Saves them hearing from anyone else, that would be more suspicious.”

“We can still tell her the truth,” Ron was still angry, finding every reason to disagree with people. “Even if she knows she can tell mum and dad.”

“She’s still young Ron, we can’t trust that she won’t let slip.” He argued back.

“She’s family you git, it isn’t fair to lie to her too!”

“Fred’s right.” Hermione put a hand on Ron’s, all of us nodding in agreement. “All of this stays between us, that’s all. We can trust one another, and that’s it. No one else.”

Ron reluctantly gave in, not quite agreeing, but nevertheless refraining from arguing the point any further. It all seemed quite futile to him, and something deep down made him wonder what his brother was up to. George coaxed everyone out, leaving Hermione and I to talk things over once again.

“One of us can watch the tower from the common room, that way he can’t get to you.” He explained once the boys were going down the stairs. I thanked him as he smiled and left, always the one to keep smiling despite the circumstances.

My best friend hugged me once again, refusing to let go as we tried to chat about anything other than Fred, which lasted about 2 minutes.

“What was he thinking?” She scoffed and I shrugged.

“It’s our only chance Mione,”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll kill him.” My face was blank, probably pale and sickly. I felt sickly so it seemed right that I look the part.

“Who? Fred or Mclaggen?”

“Both,” I laughed, the tiniest glimmer of happiness stabbing its way through the dark. My friend’s wrapped round me more, unwilling to let go until she absolutely had to, her hands squeezed my sides comfortably. “Thank you, for stopping Mclaggen last night… and for looking after me so much.”

“I know you would do the same,” She smiled, stroking my hair with one hand.

“Were you scared too?” I asked, breathing deeply as I tried to repress that feeling I’d had seeing him standing in the middle of the room only a few steps away from my bed.

“A little bit,”

“You’re braver than me… what do you think he would hav-”

“Don’t think about it y/n, it’s over. Just focus on you and Fred.”

I sat up, her arms slipping away as I did so. She mimicked me, crossing her legs as I did mine and watched my mind whir as I thought about Fred over and over.

“There must have been other things he could’ve said.” I sighed, Hermione nodding.

“Probably..”

“Hell, he could’ve beaten him to the ground.” “So why didn’t he?” The girl asked, no answer coming to my mind but plenty inside hers. “I just think there’s a reason he lied to Mclaggen.”

“He said it slipped out,”

“Oh I believe that, but it’s what that means that’s confusing me.” She admitted, I frowned at her, not quite following.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” She sat up onto her knees, looking me right in the eyes to make sure I understood what she was thinking. “For Fred, the guy who couldn't care less about girls, to suddenly pretend he has a girlfriend seems strange. But when he said it just slipped out to Cormac, I think he was thinking of you more than himself.”

She was right about Fred not being bothered with girls, he’d seen George mess around with enough of them that the aspect of a relationship probably seemed useless to him.

“Yeah I understand that, he was confronting him about me.”

“But… he could’ve said anything else. Why did Fred, think about you and his head immediately go to girlfriend?” She leant back now, satisfied with her theory. I hummed.

“Maybe you’re over-analysing it a bit?” Hermione did tend to after all.

“I have a gut feeling about this one.”

Harry came to check on me halfway through the day, telling us that Ron had been sulking all day despite Fred's attempts to apologise. Hermione went to spend some time in the library as I continued to hide away in our dorm, refusing to come out until dinner. Tomorrow would be a different day, I’d have classes all over again but luckily none with Mclaggen because he was in the year above. However, it meant I’d be matched with people asking questions, whether they knew about the night’s events or not. I now had a fake relationship to speak for, not to mention I needed to be somewhat happy about it too in order for things to go smoothly.

“Hi.” Fred said quietly, making Harry look up from his magazine. He got the idea and left us to it, shutting the door behind him.

“I’ll see you at dinner y/n.” He smiled sweetly, each step echoing down the stairs. The twin shuffled over to sit on Hermione’s bed to face me.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, avoiding my empty eyes.

“Fine,” I smiled weakly, doing my best to lie. I didn’t want him to think I was nervous.

“I cannot apologise enough,” He started, hands moving slightly as if he wanted to reach out for mine. But they went back to his lap, fingers tightly crossed over one another, I watched him clench them until his knuckles went white.

I felt like a toddler that needed watching all the time, like he wasn’t sure what to do with me or how to talk.

“Fred don’t, just- it’s fine.” I stood up and walked across the room, desperately trying to find something to busy myself with. I folded some clean clothes, his eyes on my shaky form.

“You’re nervous?” He tried again, his voice scratching the air. I nodded, not daring to turn around and face him. I felt pathetic alone in his presence, vulnerable to his gaze as I clutched a jumper Ron had given me one Christmas between my fingers.

My thoughts were scrambled but they refused to come out to Fred. So we were alone in the silence.

“Everyone’s angry, aren’t they?” I said, at first to himself, but when I peered over he was waiting for me to tell him otherwise.

“I am grateful Fred,I know you were just looking out for me.” He smiled, having been given the reassurance he’d wanted.

“We all are.”

I swallowed once, feeling the spit slide down my throat with a disgusting taste. He meant that as a humbling comment, to show that everyone else cared as much as he did, but why was I disappointed. Had I really been holding out hope that he wanted this?

“Do you need any time before we go?” I nodded, suddenly realising how much of a state I must have been in from the night before.

“I should probably shower,” The words came out meekly, like I was too scared to speak any louder.

“Okay, you can use our bathroom.”

Hermione and I didn’t have a bathroom big enough for a shower in our dorm, subjected to walking halfway across the castle each morning before breakfast. Yet Fred and George had been lucky enough to bag a room with a bigger bathroom, giving them an annoyingly better deal than us.

He checked that the common room was empty before letting me walk through it to get to his dorm. I had never been inside, the twins rarely using their room for anything besides sleeping and washing. They did share it with another boy, Lee Jordan, but as Fred explained he was never really around either.

I showered quickly, enough time to enjoy the privacy of the warm water as I shivered beneath it. Fred was waiting outside, that I could tell from his light footsteps as he paced the room.

“Ready?” The boy stopped walking when I came out, fresh clothes on and my others in a small bundle in my arms. “I’ll put those in with my laundry if you want?” I smiled and dumped it in his little washing basket, taking a deep breath.

He gave me a sudden hug, making me jump slightly. Fred wasn’t one for complex emotions, generally sticking to the safety net that was happiness and anger. I certainly hadn’t seen him hug a single person before without being coerced. Maybe he saw me as such a basket case, that he didn't even know how to react.

“I’m fine Fred.” I laughed awkwardly, patting his back and letting him pull away. For a second I thought he hadn’t heard me, because he didn’t move away, but then he coughed himself back to normal and turned to leave. Me following behind, more confused than ever.

The noise of voices in the great hall boomed louder than ever before, even from down the hall. Fred had started holding my hand the second we’d left the common room, chatting casually to me as we walked through the castle, people giving us looks as we passed them. I too wouldn’t have understood his change in demeanor, he had never been overly affectionate to anyone. Yet here he was, acting as if I was the only person in this whole school. We didn’t stop to discuss anything, or reassure one another, before walking into the hall. I feared that if we had done so, then that slight slither of courage I had would’ve melted away quicker than wax.

Fred’s smile was so natural as I peered up to him, already looking over at George on the Gryffindor table. They were all at our usual spot, watching expectantly as I did my best to ignore the many turned heads and hushed murmurs of surprise. My eyes were fixated on Hermione, who seemed to express a great deal of pride. I hadn’t even noticed that we’d passed Mclaggen’s end of the table, Fred’s body blocking that side so I never even saw him.

When we sat down, I shuddered at the feeling of Fred’s arm around me, which I hope he hadn’t noticed. It was strange, having someone’s hands on me at all times, even worse when it was Fred's. I’d seen the boy fidget before, it was a normal occurrence, but to be the one on the receiving end of his restless fingers playing in my hand was weird.

It was as if he wasn’t necessarily paying attention to me, but yet he was letting me know I was still on his mind. All without a single word spoken. It was nice just to see a different side to the boy, but I needed to remember that all of this wasn’t real. None of these feelings were true to Fred.

Ron ate his food in silence, refraining from looking over at either me or his brother. I ate slowly, mostly speaking to Hermione and Harry and avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the hall, especially him. George and Fred were keeping themselves entertained, which made things much easier for me as I realised that I had no clue how to chat normally with Fred. A fact that became evident as we walked hand in hand through the halls.

Some people congratulated Fred as he took me to potions class, most just whispered about us as if they were invisible. I stayed quiet, the attention mostly on him thank god.

“You didn’t have to bring me,” I smiled as we stopped outside the classroom door “I’m sure people would still believe you.” I whispered.

“Y/n.” He frowned, like I was a naughty child.

“Sorry.” I became very aware of him flipping out. Not even one whole day, and he was already seemingly sick of pretending. The boy looked around, eyeing up a group of Ravenclaw’s hanging out at the other end of the hallway and sighed, turning back to me.

“I didn’t mean it like that, sorry.” He took my hand again, confusing me with a gentle smile.

It became apparent that Fred was a great liar, both to me and everyone else. He said goodbye, and I did my best to produce a fake smile, not that he would be able to tell the difference.

Fred watched her leave, noticing how uncomfortable her smile had been and wanting to punch himself in the face. Why was he acting like such an idiot around her? She was so easy to be happy around, but he repressed it, not enjoying the vulnerability she instilled in him.

He couldn’t deny himself the joy that came with the smiles, or when she held his hand so small inside his own. But he couldn’t let her know that, not ever. Because, when she looked up at him, those eyes so big and innocent, he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe from all the world’s evil. That was what made him weak to her.

She wasn’t ‘his’ in any sense of the word, not a possession like Cormac had described, but god why did he like showing her off to all the boys in her year. The same dirty guys that had confessed the things they wanted to do to her in the dark during a game of truth or dare. Thinking back on it made him mad, physically furious, he wanted to go back and kick them all in the mouths for ever defiling her that way.

It was wrong. Fred felt as though he was benefiting from something y/n had been so traumatised over, like he was her protector from Mclaggen and now she owed him the satisfaction of acting as his girlfriend. He had the nerve to revel in every fucking second of it too.

Fred felt as bad as her stalker. He felt as vulnerable to her as Cormac was, begging for her over and over until it drove him mad. He saw how easily love had turned his father obedient to his mother, and he’d watched Ron stumble over words whenever Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. Fred wasn’t like them, he didn’t need a relationship to belittle him as he’d watched it do to others. He needed to control himself, but it was so hard when he held her and felt what it was like to be under that trance.

She was most likely only being polite with him because he was just that little bit better than someone who broke into her dorm to do god knows what. He wished that she hated him, that she would scream and yell and tell him what a dick he was for making her do this. At least in that case, it would be easier to forget all that he wanted from her. It made him angry that she was so encaptivating, so furious that he felt the need to push her away.

That rage had gotten everyone into this mess to begin with, that anger had made him notice those desperate feelings for y/n that shouldn’t exist. Fred vowed to himself in that moment, he would do everything in his power to rid any attraction to the girl he merely owed a favour to.

Days went by, Fred and I agreeing that kissing one another on the cheek was far enough for people to still believe while not making things awkward between us. The boy, however, was becoming increasingly distant over the next few days. He seemed so calm and collected when we were around others, but the second we were alone he shut down.

His hands would drop mine as if I was the plague, no words exchanged. It hurt, knowing that it truly was all an act, contrary to Hermione’s theory. But nothing else had been hinted at from the start, he himself told all of us how much of a mistake it was. Now I had no choice but to believe him when he said that.

Each time he went silent, or grunted to me instead of talking, I was reminded of how many times he apologised. How quickly he regretted his actions, the second he’d told all of us that morning in my dorm. He never did it for me, I was just naive enough to think differently. Maybe it hurt because he was so convincing, he held me proudly and smiled as if I was the only person in the room. But I too was just someone else being fooled by a very good actor.

The only upside to it all was that Mcglaggen seemed to back off a bit, keeping the creepiness down to just stares across the great hall. It put me at ease again, knowing that I wouldn’t have to worry about walking into a room of flowers and gifts from someone I despised. At this point, he had to be yet another believer of mine and Fred’s fake relationship, thank god.

“I think he hates me,” I said into the darkness one night, unable to sleep and hoping my best friend would be the same.

“Who does?” She grumbled, drowsiness in her voice but not in her body.

“Fred.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You must’ve seen it too, he just ignores everything I say. Like he can’t even stand to be around me.” I huffed.

“Maybe he feels bad for you, he kind of forced it upon you.”

“It doesn't feel like pity… more like disgust.”

Hermione fell silent, searching her mind for a good response.

“Maybe there’s something else on his mind?” She explained.

“Maybe,” I rolled over and looked at the room from my bed, sighing and closing my eyes in another futile attempt to sleep.

I soon realised it was so incredibly stupid of me to ever think that Cormac would have backed off when I snuck off to the black lake one evening to have some time to myself. All I’d done for weeks on end was in the company of others, and it had started to suffocate me slightly. Hermione hadn’t mentioned our conversation about Fred, and his attitudes had only worsened over time, so I just decided to keep it all to myself. I’d snuck off while everyone was busy and walked to the water’s edge, watching the sunset.

It was peaceful, and refreshing to be alone. Finally, I could enjoy my own thoughts without someone interrupting them or the need to fill the silence between Fred and I. He had barely spoken to me all day, only putting on a smile at breakfast before going off to quidditch. Then he disappeared, not even turning up to dinner later on, which seemed to make some people talk as I prodded the food around my plate.

My mood’s were at an all time low, Fred’s constant rejection only pushing them deeper. I’d never needed his approval before, so why was I longing for it now? I hated that I wanted him to come and tell me he was sorry for being off with me. In reality, he probably enjoyed the one day without me around to bother him.

“All alone y/n?” His voice made me want to cry, the once bubbling anger had been conditioned into fear every time I heard him speak. I turned around, ready to leap up and run at any moment. Cormac stood smugly, arms crossed, as if he had finally gotten what he wanted. He had. Now I was all on my own, as he’d asked me already, and he could do whatever he’d wanted to since he’d laid eyes on me.

“What do you want?” I forced the words out shakily, only making him smile more.

He stepped forward and I scrambled to my feet clumsily, stepping back as he came closer.

“I want you to myself y/n, you’re wasting your time with Weasley.” I cringed at his words, if only he knew. I moved around him, trying to leave. But he would never give up that easy, he followed me up the hill with ease.

“Stop it.” I begged.

“We’re meant to be together y/n,” He smiled, reaching for my hand but I just sped up. Making him jog after me. He wasn’t quite chasing me, neither of us moving fast enough for that, but it felt like a wolf closing in on me. “You can’t deny your feelings, can you?”

I stopped, for a split second pondering over the idea that he was talking about Fred. Then he smirked, that ugly god awful, gut-wrenching smile and I remembered that when Cormac spoke it was only ever in his own interest. So I kept walking, finally reaching the bridge to the courtyard.

“I’d love you so much more than he could y/n,” I didn’t dare respond, the tears pricking at my eyes. “He barely pays attention to you, I see it, there’s no spark with you two.” I hated that he was so right.

His words were impossible to ignore, even as we got into the castle with noises everywhere, Cormac’s rang out above them all. “Does Weasley ever touch you?” He asked me, that sick feeling increasing by the second.

Just the stairs to go, then I’d be inside the common room. Someone had to be there, and if not then Hermione was bound to be in the dorm. I prayed I wouldn’t be alone, I had no chance against Mclaggen if I needed to defend myself. I was fearing for the worst, his words unrelenting as he demanded to know intimate details.

“I want to be all over your body,” He whispered as I spoke the password, the painting swinging open. I’d never run inside so quickly, just to whip round to the boy following me closely. He seemed caught off guard, stumbling a little in his step.

“You’re a sick fucker, what will it take for you to understand that no one is ever gonna love you if you threaten them!” I screamed in his face, not giving him a chance to respond.

“I’m not something you can play about with, I’m a fucking person. Do everyone a favour Cormac and leave!”

I hadn’t spotted the three boys peering over at us, getting up in defense the second they saw who had followed me. Ron, Fred and George waited until I was done before coming to my side.

“There he is, your precious boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes at him and turned away again, not in any mood to deal with any of them.

“Leave her alone Mclaggen, she’s had enough of your shit.” Fred pushed the boy to the ground, towering over him with a foot pressed to his neck. He nodded, wanting to be let free and got up to rush off. I scoffed, but not at the pervert.

“I bet you’re so proud of yourself aren’t you,” I huffed, making Fred frown. He’d yet to see me mad, but it had been growing over time.

“What’s wrong?” His tone was dull, as if he couldn’t be bothered.

“You, you’re so full of yourself” I scoffed again.

Ron and George sloped off, deciding this was between the two of us alone.

“What did he say to you?” Fred tried to change the subject with a sudden gentle tone.

“Jesus why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

My face was blank with annoyance. He was so thick sometimes. He must know what he was doing, no one was that ignorant.

“You spend all day acting as if you hate me, out of nowhere, and then you do this. Play all protective and caring as if it’s normal. None of this IS NORMAL!” I was getting closer to him, trying my best to get him to understand from nearly half a foot shorter.

“I’m doing what we agreed, what’s the problem.”

“Do you hate me? Is that what it is, because tell me now and we can end this.” I laughed, wanting nothing more than to be far away from him.

“Y/n you’re mad over nothing.” He lied.

“I actually thought you could be half decent... but jokes on me eh?” I ranted, getting more and more furious by the second. I could see he was hurt, but my words were still riling him up and pissing him off. Fred took a deep breath to compose himself.

“It’s complicated y/n,” He tried his best to explain calmly, but I was too far gone.

“I get that I’m just charity work to you Fred.”

I went back out of the common room, passing Ron and George leant against a painting on my way down. They called after me, confused, as I raced down the stairs, but I didn’t dare stop. I needed to be away from them all, somewhere safe where I could hide from it all for a little while.

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thewickedkings · 4 years

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Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 10

Masterlist || AO3 || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: Mild cursing. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

~~~

A/N: This chapter is even longer than the last one, at 4k words. Also, you’re welcome in advance.

That Sunday was one of the busiest at the café. Students were streaming in to work on all their assignments before Thanksgiving break, and by the time they caught a break, Jude was out of breath.

“Damn, I don’t think it’s ever been this busy,” Lili said, wiping her forehead.

“No wonder no one else wanted this shift.”

Lili groaned. “I have to go home and write not two, but three essays. I know I shouldn’t have procrastinated, but it was my birthday week.”

“I’ll help you edit them if you want,” Jude offered. For some reason, she actually enjoyed editing essays, and Lili had definitely taken advantage of that in the past. “And you know it’s called birthday, not birth week,” Jude snarked.

“Shut up, Ms. I-made-googly-eyes-with-Cardan-all-night.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did. Now please tell me what happened, because I know something did. The sexual tension when you guys came back down was disgusting.”

Thankfully, Jude was saved by a customer who had walked in. But Lili was stubborn, and after Jude took her order, she pressed, “Nope. Spill.”

Jude grimaced before recounting the incident, which she now referred to in her head as ‘the bathroom incident.’

Lili gasped comically. “Oh my God. Cardan has more game than I expected. Kissing your thumb after band aiding it? Hold on.” She called out the customer’s name, leaving the drink on the counter, before returning. “Damn, that’s smooth.”

Jude groaned. “I know.”

“Wait, did anything happen when he drove you home?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Jude blushed even more as she remembered the drive. They had been bickering as usual, as if that could stop them both from thinking about the increasing tension between them.

And then the silence they’d both been avoiding like cowards descended. The painful, awkward as hell silence.

By the time they got to her house, Jude was anxious to get out of the car. She reached for the door handle right as Cardan spoke, staring straight ahead. “So we’re really not going to talk about it?”

She froze, not expecting them to address it. “Talk about what?”

“Jude.”

“Cardan,” she mimicked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine then.” He pushed his door open at the same time as Jude.

“What are you doing?” “Walking you to your door.”

“I can walk to my door by myself.” Her foot caught on the edge of the sidewalk, and she’d stumbled before righting herself.

“Righttt,” Cardan drawled and followed her up the sidewalk.

She ignored him, pulling out her keys and unlocking the front door. “Okay, you can go now, loser.”

“Weirdo,” Cardan said.

“You’re a weirdo.”

Cardan snickered. “Nice comeback.”

“Shut up.” She felt his gaze on her back and was thankful for the dark, because she was blushing for no reason.

“You shut up.”

They both snickered like the immature idiots they were, and Jude knew she had steered clear of the conversation for now.

When Cardan reached his car, he hollered. “We’re going to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she hollered right back.

Cardan just grinned. “See you tomorrow, Duarte.”

Her expression must have been doing something weird at the memory, because Lili snorted. “You’re in deep shit.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Um, maybe first off, actually admit you like him?”

“I do not.”

The Bomb raised her eyebrows.

Jude groaned. “I can’t like him. Not him of all people.”

“But you doooo,” the Bomb sing songed. “You and Cardan are in-”

“Lili, I will not help you edit your essay if you don’t shut up right now.”

She went silent immediately. “That’s just cruel.”

Jude grinned. “So… how’s Van?”

Lili glared. “You’re not subtle at all.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

She wiped down the counter, silent for a beat before she sighed. “Fine. He’s just- I think I need to move on.” Jude opened her mouth to interrupt, but the Bomb continued. “I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, I think he likes me like that, but I don’t know… he’s always so skittish when I try to take things further. And I don’t want to ruin things between us.”

Jude knew there was more to the story, but before she could say anything, a group of girls entered the café, and Jude had to take their orders. She dismissed it, figuring she’d bring it up later.

~~~

Jude didn’t see Cardan at school the next two days. Meeting her college application deadlines took up most of her time, and before she knew it, it was Thanksgiving Break. Vivi came home from college, and suddenly their house was much more lively than usual.

Before Thanksgiving dinner, Vivi stomped into Jude’s room and shut the door behind her. “I know I haven’t visited much, but what’s going on between you and Taryn?”

Jude pulled out her headphones from her ears. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“That’s what she said too!”

“Viv, just leave it.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out, because even Oak’s annoyed at this point.”

“He is?”

“You are all idiots,” Vivi mumbled on her way out of the room, before popping back in. “Oh, by the way, I think your mac n cheese is burning.”

“Shit! Why didn’t you say that first?”

Throughout dinner, Vivi proceeded to force Jude and Taryn into conversation. The ease at which Vivi slipped back into their dynamic was uncanny after so many months away, but Jude supposed that was the way with family.

Madoc and Oriana carried the turkey to the table while Jude prepared for the grand reveal. Oak bounced in his seat in anticipation of what had becomes Jude Thanksgiving tradition. When Jude pulled back the foil to reveal her mac n cheese, it looked perfectly fine. Except for unmistakably charred edges

Taryn snorted. “It’s definitely better than last year’s.”

Jude cracked a grin. Maybe there was something to say about Thanksgiving in bringing the family together.

~~~

Jude spent the end of the break hanging out with Lili, Van, and Garrett. The weird energy between Lili and Van was palpable, and Jude instinctively looked for Cardan to raise her eyebrows at before realizing he wasn’t there. Cardan had texted that he was busy with family stuff on the group chat, and Jude couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding her. Logically, she knew she was being self-centered and he probably was busy, but the thought stung more than it should have.

Monday came far too quickly, and Jude rubbed her eyes as she walked to her first class, bumping into the last person she expected to see: Locke. For the past few weeks, she’d been messing with him, but not too obviously that he would suspect she knew about what he did. Her revenge plan was still brewing, but until then, she could have some fun.

She and Lili made a game out of replying to his texts with the weirdest responses, just to see how much he could take. Her favorite was when she had ‘accidentally’ sent him a picture of two tampon boxes, asking which one she should get. When he had responded with a ‘whichever one fits??’ Jude had exploded with laughter before clarifying that it wasn’t meant for him, except that it definitely was.

When she’d asked him if he wanted to come to dinner to meet her sister and her parents, with an emphasis on her dad, he had avoided her for the next two weeks.

Which made it even harder to control her laugh when his face paled when he saw her. “Sorry, I’d better get going. I’m going to be late.”

“Right. Let me know if you can make it to dinner. My dad really wants to meet you.”

Locke practically tripped as he ran away from her.

“Damn, Duarte, what did you say to scare him?” Cardan’s familiar voice drawled out from behind her, and a grin escaped her lips, a small part of her relieved that he sought her out. She hadn’t realized how ingrained he was into her routine until she hadn’t seen him for a week.

His pace matched with hers until they were walking side by side, falling into their familiar groove.

“Just mentioned how much my dad wanted to meet him for dinner.”

Cardan grinned and handed her a cup full of coffee.

“What’s this for?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s black. I don’t know why you would willingly drink that, but you do you.”

“Yes, okay, but why’d you get me coffee?”

“Consider it me paying you back for accidentally spilling your coffee that one time.”

“Accidentally, my ass.” She frowned at her cup. “It’s not poisoned is it?”

“Fine. If you don’t want it, I’ll find some other psychopath who likes black coffee.”

Jude hugged her coffee protectively to her chest. “No. Mine.”

“I figured. Also, we need to finish our project. It’s due…“

“Next week, I know,” Jude cut off. “We still haven’t bought a poster.”

Cardan groaned. “We should have gotten one from Dollar Tree.”

“Well maybe you could’ve gotten that instead of a tiara,” she said, grinning up at him as they stopped in front of her class.

Cardan rolled his eyes. “So are you free Thursday night?”

“Yeah. Text me when later.”

“Good. We’ll talk then,” he said, with an extra emphasis on the word talk. His eyes dropped shamelessly to her lips, long enough that it was anything but unintentional, before he smirked and strode away.

Jude called after him, unwilling to let him get the last word. “About the project!”

“Of course. What did you think I was talking about?” He disappeared before she could respond.

Kissing. She was thinking about kissing him. Ugh.

She grumbled angrily to herself as she placed her bag next to her desk. When she caught Taryn staring at her, she snapped, “What?”

Taryn opened her mouth to speak, but the bell interrupted her. “Nothing.”

~~~

After soccer practice on Thursday, Jude went home to take a shower. While blow drying her hair she texted Cardan to figure out when they were meeting up. He immediately responded with ‘can’t do my place,” and Jude frowned. After a couple messages, they ended up deciding to go to the library at Cardan’s suggestion.

Oak was throwing a fit over something or another as she headed out the door, and Oriana paused their argument to place a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Heading out?” It wasn’t in an overbearing tone, just gentle.

“Yeah. To the library.” Jude hesitated, battling the urge to say something more. Oriana might not have been her real mother, but Jude realized what a blessing it was to have someone that checked up on her and cared the way Oriana did. She swallowed and said, “I’ll be back soon,” and headed out.

By the time she got to the library, Cardan had already texted that he was there. Seconds after she turned off her car, a knock sounded on her window, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Cardan grinned sheepishly when she opened her door. “Sorry.”

She shrugged it off and handed him the poster she from the passenger seat. She glanced around the parking lot for his car. “Where’s your car?”

“I walked.” At the shock on her face, Cardan added, “Don’t look at me like that. Just because we live in a suburb doesn’t mean I have to drive everywhere. Plus, it’s only a fifteen minute walk.”

“Okay, but… car. Fast. Walk. Slow.”

Cardan rolled his eyes and tugged her wrist impatiently. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

They walked through the archway that opened up into the entry area of the library, ‘welcome’ inscribed into the stone. The wall behind the front desk was patterned with hexagons of different pastel colors, and the librarian behind the desk gave them a friendly smile. Her dark brown hair was tied up into a ponytail, strands of gray beginning to appear.

“Cardan, nice to see you. I see you’ve brought a friend,” she said to Cardan. Her honey-colored eyes glanced at Jude with curiosity.

“Um, yeah. Mel, this is Jude. We’re doing a project together.”

Jude introduced herself, trying to hide her own curiosity.

Mel smiled at Jude warmly. “It’s nice to meet one of Cardan’s friends.” Turning to Cardan, she added, “The back room is empty, if you two want to head there.”

Cardan thanked her and gestured Jude to follow him. They passed the kid’s section, which was littered with bright signs and seating, and when they were out of hearing distance, Jude asked. “So… you come here a lot?”

“Um, I guess. I came a lot when I was a kid, so sometimes I stop by.” The tips of his ears turned pink, and damn, Jude felt something squeeze in her chest at the sight.

“Cool.”

His head jerked up at her response, and whatever he saw in her expression had him reaching for her hand and twining their fingers together. He tugged her hand, and she followed him through the stacks, the only sound their footsteps and the comforting hum of the library.

She grinned at the floor. This boy never ceased to surprise her.

They stopped in front of a room divided from the rest of the library by a wall of glass, and Cardan pushed open the door. The opposite end of the room was also completely glass, and the window looked out over the lake behind the library. A table with four chairs was on the left, and a cozy armchair sat on the right.

Cardan let go of her hand, and she ached to pull it back to hers, feel the warm callouses of his palm against hers. Instead she put the poster on the table and pulled out her laptop. “This is nice. I’m surprised no one else took it.”

“Mel saves it for me sometimes.”

Jude snorted. “You really do charm everyone, don’t you?”

Cardan sat down across her, humming in agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I charm you too.”

“Keep waiting.”

Cardan kicked her leg under the table, and she bit back a smile. If his leg stayed there, pressed against the side of hers while they worked, neither of them mentioned it.

~~~

“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” Jude said, as she looked down at their poster. Yes, it did feel like a fifth grade science fair project, but Jude was still proud of it. Something about cutting and gluing things together made it seem so much more satisfying.

“Not bad? This is fucking gorgeous.” Cardan pushed his curls off his forehead, his silver rings catching the light. Jude’s brain automatically snagged on how unfair it was that guys could have such attractive hands. Like how did that even make sense?

Her gaze caught on them now, eyes tracing the veins and the flex of his fingers where they tapped against the edge of the table. She’d noticed that Cardan always seemed to fidget with his hands, unable to keep them unoccupied.

“Jude?”

“Hm?” She pushed her thoughts away and tried to focus. “Yes, gorgeous,” she agreed.

He gave her a strange look, and she felt a flush creeping up her neck. She started hastily picking up the scraps of paper and tidying up the table. When she dared to meet his gaze, he looked like he was battling himself with something.

“What’s up with you and Locke?” Cardan blurted a few seconds later.

“What do you mean?”

This time, his words were a little more deliberate. “I know you’re messing with him, but does he think you’re… dating?”

“I don’t know. We only went on one date, and I pretty much scared him off when I mentioned my dad.” She shrugged, confused as to why he was bringing up Locke. “Does it matter?”

His hand stilled. “I guess not.”

Silently, the two of them worked until they had finished gluing on all the information. They cleared up the excess papers and started cleaning up.

“So when are you going to break it off with him?”

“Well, I was planning to do a whole revenge prank thing, but I haven’t fully planned it out yet,” she said contemplatively, scraping off the dried glue from her fingers.

When she looked up, Cardan was looking at her with a devious smile. “What?”

“I have an idea.”

~~~

The sky was dark when they arrived at the grocery store. As they placed their items on the counter to check out, the cashier gave them a strange look. Jude simply smiled and said, “Isn’t it such a wonderful night?”

At Cardan’s direction, Jude drove to a neighborhood a few minutes from Cardan’s, and they parked in a darkened spot on the side of the street.

Jude’s nerves thrummed in anticipation. She hadn’t been this excited in so long, probably since the last time she had pranked Cardan. She had to admit that scheming with someone made it all the more fun.

Cardan pulled on a black sweatshirt, and his eyes met hers as he pulled up the hood to cover his curls. The wicked grin he sent her made her stomach squeeze.

“You take the right, and I’ll cover the left?”

She nodded, and silently opened the door and stepped out as Cardan did the same.

They crouched on the sidewalk next to some trees and silently made their way towards the lone house at the end of the street. Thankfully, Locke’s car was parked out front. They hadn’t exactly planned for it if his car had been in the garage.

A car door slammed across the street and Jude looked at Cardan. “Where-”

He clapped his hand over her mouth before she could finish, and he pointed across the street. A car was reversing out of the house next to Locke’s, its headlights nearly passing over them. Her heart beat furiously against her chest.

The car drove away, and Cardan suddenly dropped his hand from her mouth. Her lips burned from the ghost of his hand, and her heart sped up for a completely different reason.

“That was close,” she whispered breathlessly, and Cardan nodded, his eyes darting away from hers.

They crept up his driveway, and Cardan passed her three rolls of plastic wrap from his backpack. Slowly, Jude unfurled the plastic wrap, and pushed it over the top of his car until Cardan caught it. He wrapped it over his side before rolling it under the car back to Jude. She hadn’t realized how painstaking the process would be, but they kept at it. The sound of the unfurling wrap seemed too loud against the silent night.

Twenty long minutes later, Jude passed the last of the last of the final roll of wrap to Cardan. She waited for Cardan to secure it into place, shifting impatiently on the balls of her feet.

A gentle whirring sound cut through the night, and Jude’s eyes flew to Cardan, who was tip-toeing back towards her from around the car.

“Run,” he whispered urgently.

She grabbed Cardan’s backpack from the ground right as a spray of water hit her arm, drenching her and the side of the car. She glanced behind her and almost laughed, realizing the sprinklers had turned on, not some sort of security device like she had thought in her panic.

Cardan looked at her, his eyes glinting with laughter. “Come on, let’s go.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her.

They ran across the sidewalk like criminals fleeing from a crime scene, narrowly avoiding the sprinklers, and Jude felt giggles breaking out of her chest. Her heart pounded against her chest, her breath coming out in pants. The cold water pressed into the skin of her arm, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Cardan’s hand in hers.

They ran all the way back to her car, and they finally stopped to catch their breath. Jude leaned back into the car, panting, her hands braced on her chest to hold her heart in.

Her eyes met Cardan’s, who was panting as if he had just been in a police chase, and a giggle escaped her mouth. And then another. And then both of them were laughing like maniacs.

“Who the fuck-” she laughed, “turns on their sprinklers-” another fit of giggles overtook her. “-at midnight?”

Cardan laughed harder, leaning into her, a palm bracing himself on the car behind her. “Your face,” he wheezed, “when the sprinklers turned on-”

She could barely breathe in. “The way you said run, oh my god.” She broke into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach. Cardan wiped tears from his eyes as he tried to regain his composure.

Eventually, Jude’s laughter slowed. The sound of crickets chirping and cars whizzing by on the street behind the neighborhood settled into the air as they caught their breaths. Jude leaned back against the car, tipping her head back up to the night sky.

Cardan was still leaning into her, the moonlight casting a faint glow over his face. When she met his eyes, his lips tipped up in a little smile that sent warmth to her stomach.

With a will of its own, her hand reached up to push back his hoodie, cradling his jaw, and he swallowed, his expression sobering.

A breeze blew over them, lifted a strand of her hair from her face. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest, a different type of adrenaline shooting through her body as his eyes darted to her lips.

In an unspoken agreement, Jude leaned up, and Cardan’s head bent down to reach hers.

Their lips brushed hesitantly, a barely-there kiss, before Cardan pulled back slightly.

Oh. Oh.

“Jude.” His voice was hoarse, a question, a plea exhaled across her lips, and she silenced it with her mouth.

Their resolve snapped, and Cardan’s hand slipped to cradle the back of her head as his head dipped and his lips pressed into hers, again and again and again, warm and soft and desperate. Jude buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, until she was pressed against the car, his forearms caging her in.

She had never been kissed like this.

It felt as though they were running past the sprinklers again, a rush of adrenaline running through her body. Her lips parted under his, and he made a noise in the back of his throat that set her blood on fire. Her thoughts fizzled into nothing, everything except the two of them fading away.

When they pulled back for air, Cardan’s lips were swollen, and both of them were panting. He rested his forehead against hers, one hand still tangled in her hair, and Jude‘s eyes finally fluttered open.

“That,” Cardan rasped, “was worth waiting for.”

“Shut up.” Her voice was a little too breathless for her liking.

“Jude, Jude, Jude,” he murmured as he nuzzled the side of her face, and she felt goosebumps erupt on her arm. “Now you know exactly how to make me shut up.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head, barely close enough for another kiss, before shoving him back, hoping distance would help her regain her composure. “You wish. There are other ways to shut you up.”

He stumbled back with a breathless laugh. “I do wish.” He glanced around at the street, as if just remembering where they were. “We should probably go.”

“We should. Wouldn’t want to get caught.”

“Okay, right.” His hands spazzed at his side for a moment before he spurred into motion, opening her door for her with a roguish grin.

Jude didn’t exactly know what she was getting herself into, but she couldn’t bring herself to put an end to it.

~~~

A/N: And there you have it, the scene that inspired this whole thing. It’s the first scene I even wrote, and everything else was just fun to write to lead up to it. I was about to cut this chapter off before the last scene, but I decided to keep it in because it takes me forever to update. Like I said at the beginning, you’re welcome 😌 I hope it’s as good as it was in my head 😭

Okay, but the fact that this is the tenth chapter and people are still reading?!! Thank you all so much for reading this and supporting this!! I probably would have abandoned this if not for you <3

As usual, let me know what you think in the comments!! Reblogs are appreciated :)

Check out my masterlist for more of my writing!

Tagging: let me know if they work or not

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@goddess-of-writing @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @charrise @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9 @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife @aknymph @thefolkofthefic @snorting-up-pizza @fandomfanatic987 @fandom-will-be-the-death-of-me @cardanslittletail @curlyredqueen06 @losssssstttttt @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @omfglucayababies @judiecardan @woodsbeyond1 @yourroyalbooknerd @ireallyshouldsleeprn @st00pid231 @alittledribbledrabble @nomotivation-lads @herladyshipxx @emmabookworm08 @ducksmurf135 @jurdanhell @booksandothersecrets @fangirlprincess09 @ysitsohardtofindaname @dressedindustandshadows @mickeymouse-house @clockworkgraystairs @thesirenwashere @courtofjurdan @blackjacks-donuts @pig-on-acid @krispytalerebel @misskillerdarkness @sanctalina@dirigibledinosaur @foreverscreaming

#between the two of us #chapter 10 #my writing #wow i actually wrote something #jurdan #tfota fanfic #tfota fanfiction #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #literally one of my favorite tfota fics #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan fanfiction

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

Pet Names, Double Dates and Other Fiascos

READ PLATONICALLY

Request: SECOND ARO FIC OH MY GOD !!!! maybe them getting a lil dirty and ben really does a number on reader, so he takes her to mcdonalds or sumn and the waiter says something along the lines of “you’re such a cute couple!” and reader gets really uncomfortable with it maybe??? and ben being taking her home and cuddling her PLATONICALLY and he’s like “it’s ok we don’t need to let anyone else’s opinions affect us”

Pairing: Aromantic!Fem!Reader x Ben Hardy

Summary: It's (nearly) all fun and games until someone assumes your relationship is romantic.

Warnings: Smut, kitchen sex, floor sex, oral sex (f receiving), a mild hint at choking, vaguely dom!Ben but not intentionally lmao, discussions of aromanticism and queerplatonic relationships, not as dialogue heavy as the first part though.

Words: 7, 264

A/N: Happy Arospec Awareness Week!! Big thanks to the anon who sent in that request when I asked for ideas for future chapters. I put a little bit of a twist on your idea but it’s fundamentally the same. Also the last scene is one that I’ve been thinking about for literal months now and I finally managed to fit it into a fic!

As always, if you’re curious about anything to do with aromanticism I am very happy to talk about it and answer questions!

Taglist: @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @scorpiogemini

The day had started off well. You woke with Ben tucked up under your arm, his legs curled up towards his chest since you’d stole the covers as you’d slept. Your face was pressed against the back of his neck and you felt him shift as you sighed sleepily and tried to keep from waking. Squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you hadn’t stirred must have worked because the next thing you knew was waking up to an empty bed and tinkly tapping sounds from somewhere else in the apartment. Groggily you shuffled out from the inviting comfort of the mattress, stretched, and pulled down the hem of the shirt you’d slept in to better cover your otherwise bare thighs before following the noises. You found Ben, still in his pyjamas (well, his boxer briefs) in the kitchen, dropping a couple of toasted waffles onto a plate, humming to himself.

“That for me?” you asked, stifling a yawn. “It can be,” he said, passing the plate to you with a quick kiss on your cheek, “There’s some cut up fruit and the maple syrup out on the coffee table and there’s coffee brewing over there,” “Thanks Benny,” “You’re welcome, Puddin’,” “Puddin’?” “I thought it was cute,” “Very cute.” You laughed as you reached for your coffee, unable to help but smile as you left the room. The first few months of your partnership had taken some adjusting and one thing Ben had decided he would do to make you both feel more at home with the dynamic was to come up with some non-romantic based terms of endearment for you. You’d vetoed things like baby and honey straight away, all of them a little too heavily skewed towards romance, or just reminders of past relationships you’d tried to force yourself into, for you to enjoy them. But, as Ben had said, he liked a good pet name, and he’d seemingly been determined to prove as much, constantly coming up with new things to call you. You, never really one for pet names anyway, mostly stuck with Benny or Benjamin if the situation called for something longer but you had a few other go-tos – things like Pet and Blondie as signs of affection, or Handsome and Tiger when you wanted to make him blush.

A few minutes later Ben joined you on the couch, placing his coffee down beside yours, almost spilling it as he watched the news story that was playing. “Remember we’ve got that double date with Jill and Martin this afternoon,” you said, the memory only just coming to you yourself. “Yeah, what time was that?” “Hang on, I’ll check the chat.” You scrolled through the messages on your phone with one hand while you ate with the other, “uhhh right, yeah, meeting at the bowling alley at 1.30.” “Bowling? Good, better than another shitty movie,” You laughed, “hey the last one they picked wasn’t too bad.” “Yeah I know, just not in the mood for it since I’ve been on set all week. I know if I went to the cinema now I’d just get distracted thinking about all the behind the scenes stuff which isn’t ideal for becoming invested in the story. Plus they’re always choosing romcoms, doesn’t that get annoying for you?” “Not really,” you shrugged, “I mean, do I sometimes wish they’d branch out? Sure. But I enjoy romance in fiction I just don’t need it in my real life. Don’t get me wrong though, very happy to do something different this time.” “How long d’you think we’ll be out?” You shrugged, “A few hours maybe?” “We should pop to the shop on the way back then. You need milk and we could get something nice for dinner.” “Sounds good. Does that mean you’re staying over again tonight?” “I was planning to, yeah. Barely saw you last week so I was hoping to spend all weekend with you to make up for it.” “Bet you regret agreeing to go out with them now,” “Kinda. S’pose it’s too late to cancel though,” “Nah you still could but you know they’ll get stroppy about it and we’ll have to go out with them next week. They don’t have any other couple friends since Neil and Percy split and Bianca took her fella overseas.” “Yeah, wasn’t seriously suggesting it.” “What would the plan have been if we did cancel?” Ben chewed a mouthful of fruit thoughtfully, “you, me, your bed. No need to be too quiet since Sophie’s still out,” he glanced at your roommate’s bedroom door, his eyes swinging back to you as he continued, “Or y’know, we could do a puzzle and listen to music all day, have a cat nap after lunch, whatever.” “You’re cute when you’re being all lazy,” “There would be nothing lazy about it thank you very much,” “Cat naps aren’t lazy?” “You know that’s not the part I was talking about,” “It wasn’t? Then what won’t be lazy,” you tried to hold back a giggle in the middle of your faux confusion but broke when Ben blew a raspberry at you in response.

Nothing more was said about cancelling as you finished your breakfast, though truthfully you probably wouldn’t have minded if Ben had cried off sick and rescheduled the double date. But you both decided that Sunday would be a day for just the two of you to make up for having to spend Saturday afternoon with others. Instead, you spoke of the week just passed and commented on the news still playing on the TV. When you were finished (Ben using the last corner of one of his waffles to swipe the remnant syrup from his plate) you stood and stacked the sticky dishes in your arms. Ben collected the coffee cups and a few other assorted dishes from the previous night, leading the way towards the kitchen and the dishwasher. He loaded his small collection onto the shelves before turning to grab the top plate from the pile you held. A noise of disgust rose from his throat as you held the plate out and he miscalculated the trajectory, his palm landing in a puddle of syrup and fruit juice. You were torn between laughing at his expression and taking the opportunity to toy with him a little but, always ready to tease him, your desire to see him blush won out. Trying not to smile too much, you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his palm closer so you could lick the sweet syrup from his skin. Predictably his cheeks turned pink and he pulled his lip between his teeth as you let him go with a laugh. “Bet you’re really wishing we didn’t have to go out now, huh Tiger?” Ben didn’t respond but he did react, his eyes locked on you as he swiped his fingers along the same plate and held them out in offering. Not quite sure where things were heading but very keen on finding out, you leaned forward and let your lips part slightly. He took the action for what it was, an invitation, and trailed his fingertips across your lower lip before slipping them between the two. He watched closely as you sucked his fingers deeper, using your tongue to lick up the sweet residue. There was still an element of novelty with this aspect of your partnership. Still part of you that was intensely aware that it was Ben’s fingers in your mouth. There wasn’t any hesitation though, hadn’t been since that first time when you’d both had to psych yourselves up to actually look at each other naked. But there was a part of your brain that was almost surprised when you found yourselves at the edge of a sexual situation. You suspected he was similarly discombobulated by how easy it was for you to end up there, how frequently playful teasing and friendly jokes turned into hands grasping at bed sheets and breathless moans against sweat-slick skin. He pulled his fingers free from your lips, unwilling or perhaps unable to shift his gaze away from the thin string of saliva that connected them like some kind of erotic spider web that you were both already caught in. You waited to see what he’d do next, feeling your heart race in the pregnant pause so full of potential. And then he moved. You laughed as he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you at the same moment he stepped towards the bench, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He kissed you too, hungrily, as if it were impossible to resist. You’d looked down at him and suddenly been pulled towards each other, lips meeting with all the force and attraction of a magnetic field. Usually, he would have had a hand against the back of your head or your jaw but carrying you meant both his hands were already occupied so instead you substituted your own, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him from pulling away too far. As soon as you were safely positioned on the edge of the bench though his hands were free to fall elsewhere. One pressed against the small of your back as the other squeezed your thigh, encouraging you to keep your legs spread. Not that you could have closed them with Ben standing between them and not that the thought had even crossed your mind.

If you’d had all day Ben probably would have taken his time with you. Despite what he’d said earlier, you’d discovered Ben had a soft spot for slow and sensual intimacy. Making out that gradually built to passionate kiss-filled sex, foreplay that included soft caresses and whispered praise, anything that let him explore your body in intricate detail with his hands and lips. You’d been with guys like that before and had hated their insistence on linking hands and kissing you slowly. Those relationships never lasted long but with Ben it felt different, it felt good. Maybe it was because he knew you weren’t on board with overtly romantic acts and respected those boundaries you’d talked about so you never felt as if he were pushing you into a roll you didn’t enjoy. Or maybe he was just a better lover than they had been. Either way, it came to same result. You still preferred something less gentle and more energetic, though you felt you better understood the appeal of being held so close and kissed so tenderly. But with only a few hours before you’d have to start getting ready, Ben was inclined to speed things up a little. His hand quickly slipped up your thigh to press against your pussy, the cotton knickers you’d slept in the only thing keeping him from direct contact. You broke the kiss suddenly, the smacking sound loud in the small room, and dipped your head to press your lips to the notch between his clavicles. In response, Ben lifted his chin, exposing more of his throat to you and you took the chance to playfully nip at the junction where his neck and shoulder met. “Oi, no marks,” he said lwoly as you moved to kiss back up towards his jaw. “Afraid I’ll brand you with my initials?” “If you could legibly write your initials in hickeys I’d put up with whatever teasing the makeup ladies gave me,” “I’ll give it a crack then shall I?” Before you could so much as flick your tongue over his skin, Ben had raised a hand and placed it over your mouth to keep you from testing our your writing abilities, “Don’t think theres enough time, Sugar, but if you really want to I’ll let you try tonight, on my thigh where no one is likely to see it.” “Make it your arse and you’ve got a deal,” you said though it was a little muffled by his palm. “Fine,” he laughed, drawing his hand away, “But then I get to try it on you too,” You nodded, grinning, and then both fell into giggles, leaning against each other’s shoulders. This was what you’d hoped for when Ben had first approached you with the idea of being partners, what you’d been afraid you’d never actually find. Someone who would follow your tangential jokes even if it delayed sex. Someone you could be yourself with. You were distracted from the thought as Ben pressed his lips to your shoulder over the sleeve of your shirt. “Should I continue?” he asked, still smiling though softer, his fingertips lightly dancing over the crease of your thigh. “I’d be offended if you didn’t” “Can’t have that,” he leaned in to catch your lips once again, at the same time resuming stroking you over your panties so that you felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. It felt good but you need more and so shifted your hips, trying to press yourself harder against his fingers. To get more leverage and better brace yourself as your centre of gravity changed, you dropped a hand behind you. Intuitively, Ben shifted the hand on your back higher and closer to your side to help keep you steady, the other still drawing lines along your clothed slit. You gasped as his thumb took up residence against your clit, rubbing it firmly so a visible damp patch began to form on your panties.

Ben grinned at you as your breath came harder and dragged his thumb back down away from your clit towards the leg of your underwear. Still watching your reactions, he twisted his fingers up under the material, gently tracing them along the same path they’d just followed only now he could feel your wetness directly. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning close to your ear, as he circled your entrance with a fingertip before pressing it into you, “of how I’d like to fuck you right now. It might take a little flexibility on your part though. I mean, nothing too much, just getting your legs up on my shoulders.” Curious, and more than a little distracted by the addition of a second finger inside you, you nodded, “Sounds fun.” “Knew you’d say that. Just tell me if it’s too uncomfortable,” “Will do.” You leaned forward as Ben moved back a little, taking his fingers with him, giving you enough room to drop your hand to his crotch and grasp his stiff length through his undies, “Just get on with it.” “Puddin’ was too nice a nickname for you. Sugar too.” he gasped as you dragged your palm along his length and back again. “What’s the matter, Tiger?” “Maybe I should call you Tiger, if you’re going to keep grabbing my cock like that,” You laughed and let him go, leaning back on your palm again, “Tigress? Whatever, doesn’t matter. Are you going to fuck me or not?” “No I just wanted to get my dick hard for no reason,” he said sarcastically, poking his tongue out at you as he pushed his underwear down. “You’re such a –” you broke off with a sharp gasp as Ben tugged your underwear aside and pressed into you without warning, “dork.” Ben chucked and leaned in to kiss you quickly before readjusting your position a little by pulling you closer to him so your arse was right against the edge of the bench. Slowly he rolled his hips against you, pulling back and thrusting forward again, finding a rhythm that worked. You leaned back on both palms as Ben grabbed you by the waist, the other resting on your knee to keep it pressed against his side. “This feel alright?” he asked as he gave another thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you. “Mmhmm,” you nodded, able to feel yourself growing wetter with each stroke of his cock. “What about this?” Ben shifted first one of your legs and then the other to his shoulders, encouraging you to bend them at the knee. His hands moved to your sides, fingertips digging into your back as he pressed you even closer. The effect was that you felt as if you were almost folded in half but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. There was an almost weightless feeling to it and any slight awkwardness you felt with your chest meeting your thighs was a small price to pay for just how good Ben felt once again moving inside you. You tightened your fingers against the benchtop, wishing there was something you could grab onto as your whole body rocked with each of his thrusts, the position allowing him to penetrate you deeply, continuously brushing against a number of spots that sent electric spikes of pleasure through you. “Fuck,” was about all you could think to say. “That a good fuck?” Ben questioned, voice gruff with his exertions. “Yeah, yes, fuck, so good,” “So you like when I do this?” You let out a soft moan as he roughly fucked into you again, timing it just right. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he half laughed, turning his head to kiss your leg before leaning forward to catch your lips again. After that there wasn’t much room for talking. Ben, having assured himself that you were happy, speeded up his rhythm, clutching you tightly to keep your legs from slipping off his shoulders. His breathing became rougher, matching your own, as he drove into you, though he still kissed you as much as he could, panting against your lips, swallowing your moans and pushing whatever air he had into your lungs.

You could feel your orgasm bubbling up, like a pot of water on the verge of boiling, but knew Ben would reach his first, recognising his expression as the one he wore when he was trying to hold back from the edge. “Fu-ck you’re s-so tight,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against yours, “gonna have to pull out soon,” You could feel him pulling away and tightened your calves on either side of his neck in an effort to stop him, needing just a little more to reach your own release. “Not helping,” he groaned, suddenly unable to hold off any longer, “Shit. Y/N.” You whined as he stilled to shoot his release over your walls. “Jesus,” he said a little breathlessly, as he pulled out, your underwear slipping back over you, and rubbed his neck absentmindedly, “Didn’t expect that to finish me off. Did you…?” You shook your head, letting your leg slip to be caught in the crook of Ben’s arm. “Well let’s fix that, shall we,” he said, already letting you go to bend forward, his face right between your thighs. You felt a puff of his hot breath against you as he hooked his index finger into the crotch of your knickers, pulling it aside, and then his tongue was on you, lapping up your arousal and coming to rest against your clit. He set up camp there, focusing all his attention on the small nub. You let yourself drop back so you were holding yourself up on one elbow, your other hand on the back of Ben’s head, tugging on his hair as he drew a series of moans from you. With a particularly firm suck, you felt your cunt pulse and something warm and wet ran from you, dripping over the edge of the bench onto the cupboard door. You had an idea what it was so it surprised you when Ben released your clit to lick between your lips, catching it with his tongue and spreading it along your slit. “We taste good together,” he mumbled, going in to trace the same path over again, greedily licking up the mixture. You swore under your breath, feeling yourself right on the edge of your orgasm, unspeakably turned on by Ben lapping up the load he’d just left in you. Sensing how close you were he dragged his tongue over your clit again, quickly sliding two fingers into you to help you along. You whined his name as he pushed you over the edge, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he again sucked at your clit, not stopping until he was sure it had worked. “Thank you,” you said as he straightened up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re such a dork,” he laughed as he kissed you again, tracing his tongue over yours. The man clearly wanted you lightheaded from lack of air. “Shut up,” you pushed yourself to sit up straight again, expecting Ben to step away and let you hop down from the bench. He didn’t though, instead absentmindedly toying with the leg of your underwear as his gaze fell to your lips. “Seriously?” Ben shrugged, “Eating you out made me hard again. And,” he quickly ran his fingers along the edge of the bench, collecting some of the mess you’d left there, “I think it’s only fair you should taste us too,” If he’s said it less earnestly you might have batted his hand away and laughed off the suggestion but something about his tone made you grab his wrist to pull his fingers towards your mouth. He hadn’t been wrong, the mix of you both did taste pretty good, though you’d already got a hint of it as he’d kissed you. “Good girl,” he breathed out, eyes heavy with lust, “think you’re up for more?” “Can we move elsewhere? The edge of the counter is digging into me.” “Okay,” Ben began tugging your underwear down and kicked off his own before pulling your shirt over your head, making you laugh. He Helped you stand and then immediately pushed you to the floor. For a moment you thought he was suggesting you give him a blowjob and were about to question him but half a second later he was following you down, laying down and pulling you on top. “I meant like the bed or the couch at least,” you said somewhere between incredulity and amusement. “Too far,” he grunted, bucking his hips to encourage you to mount him properly, “need you now.” You rolled your eyes as you sank down onto his dick, “Do I actually get to cum this time or…?” “Only if you move,” Ben growled as he grasped your hips and pulled you down onto him, making you cry out at the unexpectedly sudden sensation of being filled. He let you ride him for a bit, alternating between squeezing your thigh as he rubbed his thumb over your clit and cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples as he encouraged you to fuck yourself on his cock faster. You kept to the same steady pace though, intending to drag it out a little, make him wait. But it wasn’t long before he got fed up with the deliberately slow pace you’d cultivated. Without warning you found yourself on your back, Ben grasping your thighs as he kneeled over you, pulling your hips up a little so he could fuck you the way he wanted. Your voice shook as you moaned and writhed in his shadow, your own fingers dancing over your clit to keep building your orgasm. “Isn’t that better?” he said roughly, laughing a little as you nodded your agreement, “Making me wish I had cancelled our plans. Could stay in your pussy all day.” You whimpered and rubbed your clit harder. “C’mon Pumpkin, so close aren’t ya,” You squeezed your eyes shut, moaning when you finally tipped over the edge. But that didn’t stop Ben. He waited until your orgasm had subsided and then pushed your legs wide and up into the air so he could lay directly on top of you as he continued to pound you. Your voice shook as a moan was pulled from your throat and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself once again being drawn towards release. There was something about his weight pressing down on you, his breath against your ear. Something about how close he seemed, almost panting as his hips stuttered in and out of the rhythm he was desperately trying to hold on to. He mouthed at your neck as you tilted your head to accommodate him, reaching a hand down to squeeze his arse cheek. You were sore from every other way he’d fucked you, tired from the two orgasms he’d already wrung from you, and yet the thought of stopping him, of ending the incredible pleasure you felt at his hands, was the furthest thing from your mind. A scream caught in your throat as he seemed to press you even harder into the floor, your legs shaking in the air as he grit his teeth and grunted with each harsh drive into you. And then he came, gasping against your throat as he felt you cum too, finally releasing the scream you’d been holding onto until the noise turned to breaths so ragged they felt like sobs.

Ben kissed your throat and then your jaw as he came back to earth, still laying on you. “How was that?” he asked softly when you’d remained quiet for a while. You drew in a deep breath, “Pum-Pumpkin?” “What?” “You called me fucking Pumpkin of all things, while trying to get me off?” “So?” “Jesus Ben,” you half-heartedly swatted at his side, “you’re lucky I was so close that it didn’t matter otherwise I might have laughed and completely lost the orgasm.” Ben joined in your laughter, the sensation of his shaking body on top of yours slightly odd but mostly quite comforting. Until he shifted his hips without thinking and made you wince. “Sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to yours again as if to kiss away the discomfort before he gingerly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees, “But you did cum that time, right?” “I think you know I did,” you sighed, already able to see what was coming, as you let your legs drop to the floor. “So wait, how many times exactly?” You sighed and shook your head slightly. “Because if my maths is right, I think we got you to three times. Once on the bench and twice on the floor. One plus two is three, yes?” “Yes that’s how basic addition works Ben,” “And who was it again that got you to three orgasms? Was it,” he pointed a finger as his one chest, “Moi?” “Alright asshole, you’re very impressive and a somewhat decent shag,” “I think you could be a little more grateful considering that performance. Might have been my best ever moves,” You pushed Ben in the middle of the chest, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes but, truthfully you were inclined to agree that it had been his best performance yet, at least in your experience. “Here let me help you,” he chuckled as you tried to stand, almost falling over as your legs shook. Quickly, Ben pushed himself to his feet and then offered you a hand up too, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Thanks,” “I hope I haven’t made it too hard for you to walk. Wouldn’t want to throw off your bowling cos you were fucked so right.” “Jesus Christ,” you couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the time you had before you had to leave was spent tidying up the kitchen, cleaning up the evidence of the mornings activities in case your roommate got home before you, washing up and getting ready to go. Which is really when things started to go downhill. If you’d realised you might have told yourself to stay home, come up with a quick excuse to get out of it and just played video games with Ben for the rest of the day or something. But there was no way to know what was coming so you didn’t. You talked happily as you got into Ben’s car (which was already parked on the street), excited to see your friends and looking forward to the afternoon.

The double date itself was quite fun, although draining. There was always an element of playing pretend at these sorts of occasions. Not that you minded so much. It was either play up the romance of your relationship or have to explain what you were to everyone and a few hours of pretending Ben was your boyfriend was honestly much simpler. At least bowling was better than the cinema. The first time you’d gone on a double date to a movie you’d sat down beside Ben, the popcorn you were sharing balanced on the arm rest between you. Martin and Jill had raised their armrest and were virtually sitting on top of each other, hands entwined. Which would have been fine except Martin had leaned over and said, “you know these things move” and looked expectantly at you. Ben and you had shared a glance and then tried to say you were both fine with the space but they’d given you matching looks that said they thought you were being weird or prudish or judging their willingness to cuddle in public. So you’d relented and shifted the armrest so you could spend the next two hours sitting with Ben’s arm around your shoulders, both of you more tense about the situation than you ever would have been if you’d just been allowed to sit in your seats like normal. Things had improved a bit since then. Ben had told you that one night when you’d gone out to a bar together, Martin had pulled him aside as asked why he never kissed you properly. Ben had shrugged and said he didn’t like PDAs, that he didn’t want photos to spread or anything like that, especially since it was still so new, and Martin had accepted it. They began to see that your ways of being affectionate were quieter, stealing sips from each other’s drinks, a warm hand against a knee, dumb nicknames that made you both laugh. Even if Jill did sometimes still try to convince you that there was nothing wrong with snogging in the middle of a busy street. Nonetheless you never felt fully able to relax when it was just the four of you. Always conscious of how they saw you, always worried that they’d decide you weren’t being affectionate enough and would tell everyone else you were going through a rough patch which would lead to more scrutiny. While at the same time worrying that one of them would start asking how serious it was between you and Ben, were you thinking about the future? Could you see yourselves moving in together? Was he the one? And it took a lot of energy to constantly be alert about what you were saying, always careful to not accidentally give away the secret truth of the situation. Bowling was fun though and less pressure than other double dates you’d been on. You could get away with not holding hands or sitting on Ben’s lap since everyone was standing up frequently and it didn’t make sense to be on top of one another. You could share small pecks on the lips or else tight hugs to celebrate strikes. And Ben made sure to tease you for missed pins, just like he always had, with a few added silly nicknames. He called you his sweet little hotdog after a particularly bad gutter shot which had made you laugh so hard you choked on your drink, and made Jill give him a disapproving glance. He’d smoothed it over by letting her overhear him saying he loved you, whispering the platonically just for you.

By the time Jill had been declared the winner of the game, you were ready to head home and spend a night forwarding Ben weird videos and dumb memes. Ready to be allowed to just exist without needing to be romantically linked to anyone. But it wasn’t quite to be. Martin made the suggestion that all of you should head to McDonalds for dinner and before you knew it you were standing in line, waiting for the kid at the cash register to serve you. You leaned your head on Ben’s shoulder as you stared at the menu, and vaguely wondered how someone working in a fast food joint could be so bright and bubbly. Right up until Ben nudged you and asked what you wanted. “Um, can I get a quarter pounder and a frozen coke, thanks.” “And?” Ben supplied. “And what?” “Y/N I know you want dessert, get dessert.” “And an Oreo McFlurry,” you smiled and bumped Ben’s shoulder with yours as he laughed and finished paying. “You guy’s make a cute couple,” the girl who’d served you said, eyes following the path of Ben’s gaze to you, still smiling. She seemed to realise what she’d said, her ears turning red, but Ben thanked her and added, “I think I have to agree,” as he squeezed your hip, before moving away so Jill and Martin could order. You’d smiled at her too but it wasn’t quite genuine.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to it, people assuming you and Ben were in fact a couple. You were. One or two weeks after you’d first agreed to try out being queerplatonic partners, most of your friends had put two and two together and worked out that something was going on between you. Of course they didn’t know you were aromantic and they probably didn’t have any idea what a QPR was so they’d really added two and two and got five but you weren’t about to correct them. As you’d said to Ben, it was too much too soon to do that. Maybe if the QPR thing worked out long term, maybe then you could tell them. And besides, they weren’t exactly wrong anyway. They’d originally assumed you and Ben were just hooking up after Martin had dropped in to pick up something he’d left at Ben’s and had seen you spread out on Ben’s couch with sex hair and a rather large hickey on your neck and Ben’s sweater hanging off your shoulder. He’d asked Ben who’d just shrugged in response and said it wasn’t a big deal. You estimated it took about a minute and a half to reach everyone else. The next time you’d gone out as a group you’d felt them all watching you and Ben closely, trying to determine if Martin with bullshitting them all or not. They’d all decided it was just sex though. Until you were clearly still together a month later and they decided it had to be serious since Ben had never successfully fucked a girl for that long without catching feelings. That was when they started referring to you as boyfriend and girlfriend. That was also when the comments about how cute you were or how they’d always known you’d get together had first started. The first few times you’d heard it, it felt weird but you figured that was just because it was you and Ben and you were still working out how to be partners without the romance. You’d been in relationships before though and didn’t have any major objections to anything they said so you found it fairly easy to deal with and mostly you didn’t notice it anymore.

Except now it was bothering you. Something about the girl’s comment had rubbed you the wrong way. Which made you feel bad because she was just a kid with a shitty minimum wage job who didn’t know you from Adam. She had no idea. She was just trying to say something nice to a couple of strangers. You supposed your dislike of the comment probably had something to do with spending all afternoon putting on the romantic act for the benefit of your friends. Maybe even something about the sex from earlier. Probably just exhaustion from everything, a shorter fuse. It could even just be PMS though you’d have to check how far off your next period was to be sure. Whatever the reason it felt…not wrong exactly just off. You stayed quiet during most of the meal, aware you weren’t being great company and aware that Ben had realised something was wrong since he kept glancing at you when the other two weren’t looking. “Y/N,” Jill’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Still with us?” “Yeah,” you said, pulling a smile onto your face, “sorry, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well last night,” That statement was met by high pitched oohing noises and Martin jokily reprimanding Ben for keeping you up. You forced yourself to laugh with them, “Not like that you pervs. Ben was filming a night scene yesterday so didn’t actually get to mine until what,” you looked to Ben for confirmation, “One-thirty was it?” “Something like that. I don’t know I fell asleep almost as soon as I put my head down.” “Me, not so much,” you shrugged, “It’s all just catching up with me now.” They accepted that excuse without question and didn’t aim too many more comments in your direction, letting you finish your food without having to keep your mind on their conversation. And pretty soon you were hugging them goodbye and promising you’d organise the next date as Martin told Ben to get you home to bed before you fell asleep in your ice cream.

Ben waited until you were safely back inside your apartment before he asked if you were okay. “We were meant to get milk,” you sighed, trying to push away the annoyingly persistent discomfort. “I’ll go out later and get some. Or we can get Sophie to bring some back when she comes home. Are you okay though?” Unsure if this was a situation where you’d want space, Ben hovered at a respectful distance until you stepped in close and leaned your head against his chest. As soon as he knew you wanted him there he wrapped his arms tightly around you, “What’s wrong?” “Not sure. Think it all just got a bit much.” “How do you mean?” You shrugged as much as his embrace would allow and talked against his chest as you tried your best to explain how flat you felt, “I think the girl who served us was just like the straw that broke the camel’s back, y’know.” “Did me agreeing with her make things worse?” You shook your head, “Don’t think so. I knew you meant it in a different way to her. Besides, the other two were in earshot so there wasn’t much else you could say.” “You know that what everyone else thinks of us doesn’t change anything about what we have, right, or what we mean to each other. It doesn’t change who you are.” You didn’t mean to say it but the words had escaped before you could stop them, “Wouldn’t it be easier if it did though.” “But then you wouldn’t be you and I love you, platonically.” You smiled and nodded as you stepped back a little, though Ben’s arms wouldn’t let you go too far, “I know, thank you. And I’m fine, just having a bit of an off afternoon.” “Are you sure? Is there anything else I can do to help?” “No, you’ve been perfect.” You leaned up to give him a quick kiss, “And I know I’m being stupid about it. I knew what I was signing up for when I decided not to come out to them. Besides, being back home with you has definitely made me feel better already.” “Do you want a cuppa or anything?” “Nah, think I might just go lie down and read for bit. Decompress a little, y’know.” “Okay. Give me a shout if you want anything, yeah,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and give you an extra squeeze before he let you go.

Slowly you headed to your bedroom, kneeling down at your bookshelf and running your fingers along the spines until you found the one you wanted. That particular book had seen better days. It’s spine was cracked, the image on the cover peeling away from the cardboard underneath. More than one page had begun to fray around the edges like an ancient treasure map in a cartoon, with little triangles missing and the corners permanently creased where they’d been dog eared a hundred times. But as you settled into the bed, Ben’s pillow still smelling faintly of his hair pomade, you began to feel more yourself. Ben was right. What other people thought of your relationship didn’t matter. He was still your Ben, the same Ben who’s hoodie had been living in your cupboard for years now because he spent so much time at yours anyway it just made sense to keep a spare there. The same Ben who’d bought you your favourite pair of sunglasses when you’d left your old ones at home by accident. The same Ben who’d gradually been reading his way through your entire bookshelf rather than buying his own paperbacks. You had too much history there and too much love for each other for anyone else’s opinions to matter. And your partnership was good. It made you happy so it had to be good.

The time passed quickly as you read so when you looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw that a couple of hours had passed, you were a little taken aback. Ben poked his head round the corner and then stepped through the doorway when he saw you looked better. “Nice to see you smiling again,” he said softly as he crawled up beside you. Without thinking you lifted your arm so he could snuggle against you, his head on your chest. “What’re you reading?” “First Test by Tamora Pierce. First book in her Protector of the Small series.” “What’s it about?” “A girl training to become a knight. Gran bought it for me as a kid while we were on a holiday at the seaside.” Ben glanced at the worn pages, “Do you reread it a lot?” “Yeah a bit. The main character, Kel, is like the only aromantic character I know of so she’s kinda important to me.” “The main character’s aro?” “I mean, not explicitly. It was published in ’99 and the terminology to describe aro experiences didn’t really start being used until like the late 2000s and even then only in certain communities online. But Tamora Pierce did answer some questions on her website and said that as she was writing the series Kel became less and less interested in romance and sex so even though she didn’t have the words for it back then, she would consider Kel aro and probably ace too. And I mean, rereading them I definitely feel an aro sort of reaction to a lot of the romance stuff, even when Kel does start kissing boys and all that.” Ben leaned back to better see your face, “Will you read to me?” You leaned down to kiss him, unhurriedly, softly, letting your lips linger on his. “Is that a yes?” “That was a sorry I’ve been weird this evening kiss actually.” “Don’t worry about it,” he said simply, snuggling back down, his head once again resting on your chest and his arm thrown over your waist. You adjusted your grip on the book and began to read from where you’d left off, one hand running absentmindedly through his hair, both of you sighing softly as you relaxed into each other.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #idk i hope its okay #also if you have any more idea for potential future chapters about these two send them my way #i like having an aro character to come back to every now and again lmao

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thenovelartist · 3 years

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A Blanc Slate, Chapter 3

7. Secrets

Oh how the dirty laundry was hung out to dry in the week after the Agreste Mansion fire.

Apparently, the corpse of Gabriel Agreste’s wife was kept preserved underneath the mansion. Which, of course, brought on all the questions of how and why she was there, followed by questions pertaining to Gabriel Agreste’s sanity and even more questions as to why he did it.

Unfortunately, the only person who knew was dead.

Early reports said that it was likely he suffocated in the fire. However, the coroner’s report came out recently saying that there was evidence of an altercation: a fractured arm, a few broken ribs, and a cracked skull. Due to the autopsy report, it was suspected Gabriel was dead before the fire broke out. However, with the crime scene as they knew it had been burned to the ground, along with any clues that could have lead to a more solid answer.

Marinette, Alya, and Nino had done everything they could to reach out to Adrien, but he refused. “Sorry, I just need some time,” was his go-to excuse. His other being, “I’m not feeling great.”

Nino hated it, but he still wanted to be a bro and respect Adrien’s wishes. Alya would have had no problem going over, busting down the door, and forcing a check-in, but Nino kept his girlfriend in check.

Egged on by Alya behind the scenes, Marinette decided that she was going to do that.

Well… maybe minus the “breaking down the door” part. She’d just insistently knock.

With a bag full of baked goods and a container of soup, she headed over. She’d been experimenting with this soup for his birthday, trying to replicate a recipe from his favorite café to surprise him with. But she thought now would be a good time to share it with him. Chat had even given it a good mark in his own way, so she was sure it would make Adrien happy.

Upon arriving at his new place—the address had been the one thing she’d been able to drag out of Nino—she knocked a couple times before waiting. When he didn’t answer, she knocked again. If he didn’t answer after this one, she’d give him a call.

However, she heard the lock on the door click and put on her best smile. “Hey, Adri—Oh, my gosh, how’d you get that black eye?!”

The expression he gave her clearly stated he didn’t want to talk about it while also regretting worrying her. “Don’t tell Nino. Or Alya. Please.”

“What happened, though!”

His lips pursed, curling downwards at the edges. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nearly stamped her foot on the ground because that made two of the most important men in her life who refused to let her in. However, she couldn’t force anything. Instead, she asked, “Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth, but words seemed to catch in his throat for a moment. “I will be.”

“Adrien.”

With a sigh, he reached out to pat her head. “I appreciate that you care, Marinette,” he began. “But really, don’t worry about it, okay?”

She didn’t want to give him time. She wanted to fix it. She wanted to be able to do something, anything, for her boys. But she couldn’t if they kept keeping secrets like this.

With a sigh, she relented, unable to do anything else. “Okay.”

He stroked her hair, and if she wasn’t so damn worried, her heart might have fluttered at the action. “Thank you,” he said before pulling his hand away. “So, was that the only reason you came by? To check in on me?”

“It was either me or Alya.”

His smile was sheepish. “I’d rather have you. Alya scares me.”

His grin seemed weary, but it was still enough to put Marinette at ease and a smile on her own face. “She’s pretty pissed. Nino’s also really worried about you. Maybe you should give him a call.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and only then did she realize the hand he’d been so good at hiding behind the door this whole time was wrapped heavily in bandages

“Adrien!”

He jumped at her voice, taking a step back, but Marinette was quick. She grabbed his arm before he could hide it again. “How’d you get this? Oh, wait, ‘you don’t want to talk about it’?”

He groaned. “I got into a little argument with my dad last week, came home and hit the wall. I don’t think I broke anything, but it still hurts.”

Marinette sighed. “Damn it, Adrien. Why didn’t you tell us? We could have been there to support you.”

Adrien turned his head away, refusing to look at her. “I… I just needed some time alone, okay? There was a lot on my mind. Please, just drop it.”

“Okay,” she caved. He was already talking with her now, as opposed to pushing her away again, so she would meet him halfway and stop arguing. “Do you want a croissant? Maybe some soup? Or you’ve got a sweet tooth. Maybe a cookie?”

Adrien looked somewhat surprised by the change of subject, but soon, he relaxed in relief. “I wouldn’t mind a cookie.”

She gave him a smile, one she had to force a bit to be brighter than it was. “Okay. I thought you would.”

8. Princess and Knight

The knock on her balcony door could only be one person.

Rather, one cat.

With a grin, Marinette rushed to answer her trap door. “Chat Noir. How nice of you to come see me.”

He looked rather stoic. “I’m not ‘Noir’ anymore.”

“You’ll always be Chat Noir,” she gently countered. “You just happen to look a little different at the moment.”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to continue their conversation. He then handed the bag in his hand over to her. “Here. The clothes you leant me. Washed and clean. And a little extra ‘thank you’ gift for your kindness before.”

“Oh,” she said, looking at the bag. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Chat just shrugged.

Looking at the bag, Marinette hesitated to take it. She had wondered if Chat would appear before her or if he’d just drop the bag and run. Now, she feared he’d bolt the moment she took the bag from his hand, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Impulsively, she reached past the bag to grab hold of his wrist. “Come inside for a minute. Let me get you some cookies for the road.”

His brow scrunched together, showing his hesitancy.

She shot him her best smile, going as far as batting her eyes at him, a technique her friends had forced her to learn a few years ago in an attempt to get Adrien’s attention. “Please, Chat? I’m sure you’d like a treat?”

He sighed. “Thank you, princess, but I’ll decline.”

“Aww, really? I can’t convince you to stay a moment?”

“No.”

“Wow. That was cold.”

Chat stood, trying to remove her hand from his, and though he was trying to be firm, he wasn’t being overly forceful. “I came to thank you, not to linger on your kindness any more.”

“But what if I want you to linger in my kindness.”

He scoffed. “Why would you bother?”

“Because I care about you?”

“You barely know me.”

Oh, kitty, I know you better than you could fathom. “So?”

“So, I took advantage of your kindness once—”

“Do it again.”

The words that came so easily out of her mouth had clearly startled him. Frankly, they surprised her a little, too, but those words also allowed her a moment to crawl fully out of the hatch and stand right before him. “I don’t mind. In fact, I want to.”

Chat looked at her, exhaustion lingering behind the stoniness in his eyes. “Princess, you’re killing me here.”

She tightened her grip, leaning closer. “Good. Maybe I can offer you a little break away from your world.”

“Who said I needed one?”

“You’re still white, and you’re not in a signature smile. I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.”

His brow furrowed, eyes hardening, yet he didn’t pull away.

And she wasn’t going to surrender, either.

The stare down lasted a good many seconds, neither moving or backing down.

“Are you trying to seduce me, princess?” he eventually asked, the slightest edge of teasing in his tone while the corner of his lips quirked upwards.

Her heart could soar at the sight. “So what if I am?”

He flashed her a fake roguish grin, leaning closer in what she quickly realized was an attempt to coax her backwards. “I’d say there’s only room for one flirt in this town, and it sure won’t be you.”

She stood her ground, knowing that if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall right through her trapdoor. Which was likely his plan and why he’d just started flirting. She knew him too well by now to know his flirting was a cover-up. Always had been, and always would be.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t also wreck her heart when he stopped the flirting and pulled a genuine romantic gesture. It always wrecked her heart when he stood with his heart bared to her. And maybe over time, those gestures built up love for him in her own heart. And maybe that’s why she stood here so adamantly now, unwilling to let him go.

“Oh?” she flirted back, trying to channel her ‘inner Chat’. “How would you know? Maybe I’m better.”

“I doubt that. This cat has worked hard and purr-fecting his technique to make the ladies swoon.”

She hummed. “You pull out all the stops on Ladybug, don’t you?”

It was as though she’d doused him with cold water, because all teasing disappeared in an instant.

Her regret level was high, but at the same time, she wasn’t even sure what she’d said to change the mood so fast. “Chat?”

He sighed, pulling away and shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” she countered.

“It is,” he firmly stated. “And don’t think otherwise.”

Biting her lip, Marinette wracked her brain for how to possibly coerce him into talking. “Something wrong with Ladybug?” she asked, reaching out to grab his other hand. “Because I haven’t see—”

“Ahh!”

In a flash, Chat ripped both his hands from hers and cradled his left hand close to his chest.

Her gut sank. “You’re hurt?”

He grit his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

His ears sank in shame for a moment. “Let it go, Marinette,” he snipped, already taking steps backwards and away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. What happ—”

“Does it get tiring?”

His eyes took on a hard edge to them, and that was the moment she knew she screwed up. “What?”

“Trying to weasel into my business,” he challenged.

“How was I weaseling?”

“I’m a grown man. I don’t need you mothering me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t if you weren’t hurt.”

The moment those words left her mouth, Marinette regretted it. Instead, her consequence was watching Chat’s expression harden, eyes glinting like the edge of a knife.

“Who do you think you are?”

She flinched at the harshness of his tone.

“You’re not Ladybug,” he hissed. “We barely know each other. Why are you so damn worked up over me getting hurt?”

Because I am your lady, dammit! But she couldn’t say that. And without that, she wasn’t fully sure what to say. “Can’t I care about you at all without my motives being questioned?”

“I don’t need your help, Marinette!” he shouted. “So, stop trying to fix things and let me take care of my own business! You don’t have any idea what I’m facing—"

“Of course I don’t! You know why?” Marinette felt something snap in her at his words, and her own feelings came tumbling out before she could stop them. “Because you’re a knight with a martyr complex who thinks he has to bear the weight of the world alone on his own shoulders. I’m no princess, Chat, and neither is Ladybug. So why is it impossible for you to let either of us help you? Do you not trust Ladybug to help you? Do you think she’s incapable? Do you hate working with her that much?”

“I love her more than you could ever imagine!” he shouted, shocking her so badly she had to take a step back to steady herself. “She is incredibly strong and capable, and don’t you dare do her the injustice of stating otherwise. But that is exactly why I’m keeping her out of this. What I’m facing is personal, and it’s something I need to do on my own. You wouldn’t understand and don’t even try to. You’re an outsider here, Marinette. Stop trying to pretend you’re the superhero here and micro-manage everything about someone you don’t even know!”

And with that, Chat whipped out his baton, and Marinette was left watching a white ghost float over the rooftops of Paris, further and further away until he finally disappeared.

9. Blanket

The night wasn’t chilly, but she still had a blanket draped over her shoulders as she stood out on her balcony. It had been a week since the little altercation between her and Chat, and she regretted so many things she said and how she handled the whole situation.

Chat was hurting, and while she had been prying, she’d also gone against his wishes to do so. He had shut himself off, and instead of just being a safe spot he could land with no questions asked, she’d pushed and pressed and prodded any way she could to get information out of him. In her defense, she had only wanted to help as well as try to keep her cat around so he wouldn’t run again.

But a trapped cat doesn’t submit easily, she supposed. Especially one with as much fight in them as Chat Noir had.

So, she wanted to apologize, even though she knew it was unlikely he’d come around again. And who knew if she’d see him again. He said he’d see Ladybug at least one more time to give up his miraculous, but she didn’t want to wait until then to see him again. Though, the longer she stood out here on the balcony with no sign of Chat on the horizon at all, she thought that might be her only chance.

If it was, then she had to be careful not to squander it. Let this be her lesson, and let it be her only one because she really couldn’t afford to make a mistake on her last chance.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, flying up to rest on her shoulder. “It’s past midnight. You should really come inside and go to bed.”

She didn’t want to, but there really wasn’t any other choice. Chat wasn’t coming, and she knew it. “Okay.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2021 #marichat #chat blanc #more angst #bear with me #it will get better

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miraculousluvbug · 3 years

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WINGLESS | Ch. 7

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: After Chat learns Ladybug told Rena her identity, Plagg's solution is simple: tell someone he's Chat Noir so they're even! Duh.

Unbeknownst to the three wicked stooges, Paris’s favorite cat boy sat perched upon a rooftop adjacent to the mansion, ogling the interaction between his father, his trusted assistant, and his absolute least favorite person in the entire world.

Next to Hawk Moth, of course.

As they tittered and conspired in the darkness, Chat Noir narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t help but find the whole thing . . .

Shady.

“Claws in.”

Plagg whizzed out of the ring and looked up at his holder with sad kitten eyes. Adrien avoided making eye contact, practically drilling a hole into the ground with the intensity of his glare. He hugged his knees to his chest and picked at his shoelaces.

“That was pretty rough, kid.”

Adrien sniffled and roughly smeared away his tears with the back of his hand.

“I was hoping her explanation would make me feel better, Plagg.”

Adrien hugged his knees tighter.

“But it made me feel so much worse.”

“Oh, Adrien,” Plagg crooned, shoulders drooping. He hesitated for only a second before flying to Adrien’s shoulder and nuzzling his holder’s neck.

“She doesn’t want to know me, Plagg. Am I really that bad?”

“Not at all. I already told you that no other Chat Noir could be you. I meant it. You’re the best Chat Noir I’ve ever had.”

Adrien’s sniffles quieted, but the tears persisted. He had no idea how to stop them now that they had started. With gut-wrenching envy, Adrien watched the person he hated most engage in chit-chat with his father as if it was the most casual occurrence. The man even went as far as sharing whatever was on his tablet, a feat Adrien had been trying to accomplish since before he could remember. His father always claimed to be private, unwilling to share any kind of imperfect designs with his own son.

But there Lila was. Conversing with his father more than he himself had in the past week.

And Ladybug had given her most sacred secret to Rena Rouge.

Was he invisible?

He felt so small.

Lost at sea.

A blip in the turbulent waters that no one knew was missing.

He was a boy overboard with no life raft. And no one knew to look for him.

His soul was cold and his heart felt numb.

“You know what?” chirped Plagg suddenly, snapping Adrien out of his spiral. “Ladybug is the new Guardian, right?”

Adrien nodded hesitantly. Where was he going with this?

“What’s her only rule?”

“We can’t know each other’s identities.”

Plagg hovered in front of Adrien’s eyes and flipped onto his back, making a show of nonchalance. If this was gonna work, Plagg had to make the kid think it was kind of his own idea. “Who can’t know each other’s identities?”

Adrien was unamused. To him, Plagg was beating a dead horse.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Plagg popped open one eye. He didn’t need to open both for Adrien to see the blatant impishness in them.

“So Ladybug and Chat Noir can’t know each other’s identities. What about . . . other people?”

The blonde ball of despair perked up, hair bouncing into his eyes, though they immediately narrowed at his Kwami’s scheming.

“But Master Fu--”

Plagg interjected, “--who isn’t the guardian anymore.”

Adrien blinked.

Kwamis, Plagg was so close to convincing his kid to be selfish for once. He just needed a push! A hefty, premeditated shove off the Fu-forsaken cliff!

“It’s like I’ve always said. Beg for forgiveness, not for permission.” Plagg folded his little paws across his chest, floating right up to Adrien’s nose. Adrien went cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. “Ladybug told Rena. So the question is: who’s Chat Noir going to tell?”

“It’s--” Adrien spluttered. “It’s risky, Plagg!”

“And so is being depressed,” Plagg snarled back, surprising Adrien. “Any other person gets minorly inconvenienced and akumatized, who saves them? You--” the Kwami jabbed a paw into Adrien’s nose “--and the bug. But you or Ladybug get akumatized, who saves you?”

Plagg saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s head. He briefly speculated who his kid might choose. Nino would be the obvious choice. He wasn’t as close to Kagami any more, but telling her the secret that had broken them apart would certainly be one hell of an apology. It could even, say, potentially repair what the secret had fractured.

There was also the off chance Adrien might choose Pigtails, who coincidentally doubled as Ladybug. Plagg would have to raid the Agreste kitchen for popcorn if that happened.

“If . . .” Adrien began.

Yes? Plagg internally coaxed.

“If I were to choose someone . . .”

Come on, Adrien.

“I think it would be . . . Nino.”

Yahtzee.

Plagg clapped his paws together over and over, rousing Adrien from his feet like a drill sergeant. “All right, then! Let’s go, let’s go! Hustle, bell boy. We’ve got places to be!”

Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out a squishy triangle, letting loose the most intoxicating aroma Plagg ever did smell. It circled the pair and made Plagg salivate. “Don’t you want this first?”

Did I really forget about camembert? Plagg wondered incredulously.

“I--” Plagg scrambled for an excuse to atone for the touchy-feelies interfering with his one true love, but he came up short. “Of course I want that!”

Adrien smiled fondly at his Kwami and threw the camembert into the air. Not one to miss a beat, Plagg zipped and caught the cheese in his mouth, devouring the thing in one fell swoop.

“Now we can go!” said Plagg, belching remorselessly. Naturally.

Adrien chuckled. When he opened his mouth to say the transformation phrase, however, he faltered. Was he really going to do this? It . . . It felt disobedient, like he was betraying Ladybug. But could she really hold it against him, if she had needed to do the same?

Would his partner reveal herself to be a hypocrite?

The budding consequences of revealing himself to Nino weighed so heavily on his shoulders that he wasn’t sure how he would manage batoning into the air once transformed. The aptitude for disappointment just felt so tangible to him, as if it were physically chaining him to the rooftop, a meaty claw so solidly wound ’round his ankles it threatened to pierce his skin.

The thought that Nino might hate him for keeping the secret in the first place made home in Adrien’s cerebral cortex, further immobilizing him. It pulled up a chair and opened the morning newspaper like it was meant to be there, meant to remind him that not everything was just simple. Straightforward. Without fallout.

A tender paw touched his cheek, wiping away a runaway tear.

“Kid,” whispered Plagg. His eyes were misty.

Is that . . . because of me? Because he cares about me?

Holding his gaze a moment longer, Adrien uttered the words that once changed his life forever and seemed to be forever following him with new and improved ways to spice up his routine.

“Claws out.”

The energy washed over him like a cold shower, springing him into action. The need to move, to run, to fly nipped at his heels and before he knew it, he was vaulting to his best buddy’s.

If Adrien was honest, telling Marinette, his dearest friend, was his first instinct. He gripped that realization like it would fly away at a moment’s notice, at the slightest spook (he was on the precipice of truly understanding what his good friend Marinette really meant to him). But he had heard from Nino that Alya and Marinette were holed in for a “girls’ night,” so . . . Nino was the next best thing.

Nino was far from second place, however. Sharing the burden of his greatest secret with the guy who got mad at Gabriel Agreste on Adrien’s behalf was like a breath of fresh air. More than that, it was like Adrien would finally be able to steady his head above the tide.

(Telling Marinette would have been like sprouting gills and uncovering the mystery of the sea up close and personal, but Adrien didn’t want to unpack that particular conclusion yet.)

Wasting no time, Chat Noir landed nimbly on Nino’s apartment balcony and tucked his baton back into place. Giving himself just one more moment before life as he knew it was spun upside down--for better or for worse was yet to be determined--he raised a gloved claw to the sliding glass door and timidly knocked.

Nino’s balcony wasn’t decorated like Marinette’s. A few bikes of various sizes loitered against the railing, collecting dust. A few helmets hung limply from their handlebars, occasionally shifting to and fro in the passive wind. Chat could discern by the light-up training wheels which bike belonged to Nino’s little brother, Chris. The bike--which Chat realized must be new since his last visit--sported black spots against its red frame.

Chat shook his head fondly.

Someone obviously developed an appreciation for the bug after their last akumatization. But as the evening breeze softly twisted the helmet, the vision before him melted him into a puddle of endearment. Nino’s kid brother apparently also had a thing for Chat Noir.

The evidence?

A black helmet topped with an acid green paw print and two plastic cat ears to boot.

Un-fur-tunately, as much as the sight was incredibly thera-paw-tic, it also made his heart throb. His body ached for a larger family, from head to toe and down to his bones.

Adrien didn’t dream often in his sleep, but when he did . . . Oh, when he did, he was blessed with visions of him entering a cozy one-story home (his) and immediately being greeted by giggling and the blinding smiles of three faceless children (also his).

While his hopelessly romantic heart yearned for Ladybug to be his other half in that tender fantasy, lately his subconscious had a habit of inserting a particular blue-haired classmate. It baffled him at first, but he figured seeing her family photo that one time during Animan in addition to experiencing the Dupain-Chengs’ bolstering hospitality personally as both Adrien and Chat Noir made Marinette a safe space for his lonely imagination.

Whoever she married would be one lucky bastard, that was for sure.

The curtains behind the glass door swept dramatically to the side, revealing a bewildered Nino in Rena Rouge-themed pajamas.

“Chat Noir?!” he exclaimed. The glass between them muffled his voice.

A quick scan beyond Nino told Chat that his friend was home alone, but he knew he needed to be certain. “Are you home alone?”

Nino paled before realizing that a superhero asking that question wasn’t as bad as some random adult looking for an easy target. He exhaled, chuckling nervously. “My family went to the ice rink, but skating’s so not my jam.”

So he stayed behind. Good. This was gonna be a piece of cake! Adrien pointed at the door handle and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Oh, right. Sorry, dude!”

Nino clambered to unlock the door and wrenched it open. The smell of broth and herbs hit Adrien square in the nose. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since lunch. “What brings you here? An akuma?”

Stepping over the threshold, Chat tried to make sense of Nino’s question. Why would he come to a civilian if there was an akuma? “No, no akuma, Nino.”

“Oh, good, ’cause I-- Dude, how did you know where my room is?”

If Chat weren’t there to reveal his identity, he might have had a heart attack over accidentally bee-lining to Nino’s room like he’d been there before. He probably would have said something fishy like “In a house like this, it’s a given!” But he didn’t have to make up some ridiculous excuse. He wouldn’t ever have to lie to his best friend.

Never again.

“Because . . .”

Nino eyed Chat expectantly. His room was a mess. He really wasn’t expecting any visitors and his laptop was still open, his music and film ideas scrawled onto random pieces of notebook paper and scattered across his desk like a madman. Or an artist. Was there really a difference?

“Because . . .” Chat began once more.

Oh, gosh. This was it. He was going to do it. He was going to do the thing! He was alone at sea and no one from the boat had noticed him falling overboard. But maybe, just maybe Nino was the Coast Guard. Maybe Nino would throw him a buoy.

“Because claws in.”

Nino’s entire body went rigid. Crap, crap, crap!

“No, wait--!” Nino shouted, closing his eyes instinctually and reaching for Chat Noir. He had to pull him away from his laptop’s camera field! Had to get him out of sight! Why did he choose now to share Paris’s most coveted secret?!

But . . . he was too late.

The light had already dimmed behind his eyelids by the time his hands were closed around--

“Adrien?” Nino whispered, peering up at his best friend. The duckling he had sworn to protect and teach the ways of life was standing where Chat Noir should be.

Adrien smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but a high-pitched laughter rang out and the joy he felt was quickly replaced with sheer terror.

Nino grinned sheepishly.

“Uh haha, you remember my girlfriend Alya who I sometimes Skype with while working on scripts?” Clumsily, Nino rubbed comforting circles into Adrien’s arms as if he could rub away the embarrassment.

“You said you were home alone.”

“Actually, I said my family went to the ice rink.”

Adrien’s eye twitched.

Plagg, who couldn’t have foreseen this turn of events, hovered off to the side and figured if he didn’t move, he could pretend he was invisible.

Sure enough, Adrien craned his head to find an unhinged Alya screeching like a fox (he had seen a video of them laughing once on YouTube; they were so adorable!) from Nino’s computer screen. Behind Alya was a familiar cork board of friends and, well, lots of himself. The walls were pink. She was at Marinette’s like Nino said she would be.

Adrien had expected gasps. Finger pointing. A million questions. What he hadn’t expected was Alya laughing like he was the butt of a joke.

After a good minute of cackling and awkward waiting from the boys, Alya sighed and wiped a tear from her eye. Then she spoke, a dazed smile on her lips.

“I cannot wait to strangle that Hawaiian-shirt-loving Master of Unnecessary Manipulation.” Her words were completely contrasted by the amusement in her voice.

Adrien tried not to faint.

-----

We're now caught up with AO3 here on Tumblr (AO3 is where I first started posting this). Yay! :D Also, was anyone expecting Rena to be there? 😌I wasn't. 😳 Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

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adventuresinwonderlust · 4 years

Text

Title: I Still Get Jealous

Pairing: jealous dom! yoongi x reader ft. JK

Warnings: established relationship, jealousy themes, public sex kind of, smut, like filthy nasty smut, degradation, cum eating, spitting just a little, daddy kink, fluff if you squint at the end, teasing, oral (m) receiving, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!)

Rating: 18 and over

“Cheers to us!” You shout, slamming your shot glass into that of your coworkers. You and your team had hit your sales quote for the end of the year, and you all wanted to celebrate, so you head out to a local lounge after work to get drunk. “Let’s dance!” Your coworker Alice pulls you over to join her on the dance floor. “I’m waiting for Yoongi.” You shout over the music. “OK well, he can find you shaking your ass on the dance floor. Now come on!” You laugh and give in, shaking your hips to the music.

This would be the first time Yoongi would be meeting people from the team, which was fine by you. There was only one person you were nervous of him meeting; one person in particular. Jungkook, the office hottie, who looked more like he should be posing in one of those firefighter calendars rather than pushing malware sales. Yoongi was always super jealous and so you made sure to stray away from talking about JK and the fact that all the women at your office would drool over him in the work group chat, yourself included.

It definitely didn’t help that he was your direct partner in sales or that he had a huge crush on you. Try as you might to avoid it, you couldn’t help but flirt a bit when he threw on his charms. “Don’t look now! JK!” Alice yells, arms opened wide as he joins you both on the dance floor. “Hey pint size.” JK greets you with your office nickname that pokes fun at your height and you can’t help but smile wide. “You look amazing! Definitely not pint sized tonight! ” He comments, pulling you close to his body as he sways you back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You dressed in a black mini skater skirt, black thigh high socks, and black booties offset with a white crop top sweater. Your intention was to drive Yoongi wild tonight, it seems however to be catching JK off guard. You blush profusely as he drinks you in.

“Finished up the last of your work?” You inquire to take his mind off undressing you with his eyes. “Yeah. I wanted to make sure all of our numbers were sent in before the end of business. Sorry I showed up late.” “No worries. You haven’t missed much.” He smirks at your comment, drinking you in once again, and your stomach knots. Your mind shifts to Yoongi and how he’d react seeing you right now. “You ok?” JK whispers in your ear, briefly placing his hand on the small of your back. You nod quickly. “I’m good, yeah.” “I just want to say. I think you’re an amazing partner. I couldn’t have met my number if you weren’t by my side.” JK praises, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. You see his eyes scan your face, your lips, your neck. You clear your throat, feeling your face flush. “Uh, you, are so awesome also, like we make a good team. All of us, really, are great.” You try to bring the focus to the entire team. “Yeah definitely. I couldn’t agree more but I guess what I am trying to say is that I would really love to get to know you on a more personal level. Take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles seductively, twirling your hair around his finger before pulling your waist into his. You stumble over your words, feeling your body tense. “JK, that’s nice of you but…” You begin to explain and push his waist away before being interrupted.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Alice whispers in your ear while stepping between you and JK, “but please tell me that that gorgeous guy sitting on the couch in our VIP section staring at you is not Yoongi.” You scan past her, searching, feeling as if you could gag as your eyes meet those of Yoongi’s. He sits slightly bent over, mouth open, looking your body up and down. His palms are pressed together while his chin rest on his thumbs. Your breath hitches at how amazing he looks. He shows no emotion but you can feel his heat from across the room. You swallow thickly as JK wraps himself around you, bringing you both into a slow sway.

Yoongi’s eyes darken at the sight of another man’s hands on you. He stands quickly and smirks at you, walking over to you and JK. He stands before you both and cocks his head to the side. JK notices and pulls you closer causing Yoongi’s lips to pull into a tight smile. “What’s up man? Can I help you? Do you know pint size over here?” JK questions. Yoongi smiles seductively at you and a chill runs down your spine. “Pint size and I go way back. Don’t we baby?” Yoongi nods to you then brings his lips to a pout. “Uh, JK, this is Yoongi, my boyfriend.” You turn to announce to JK’s surprise. Yoongi gives JK a shit eating grin. “Oh wow,” He pulls his body away from you but still holds onto your hip, “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. Sorry man.” Yoongi raises his eyebrows briefly. “No worries friend. Pint size loves keeping things fun and exciting for me, don’t you baby?” “Don’t be a dick Yoongi.” You snip. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are pet names only for, I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Yoongi points at JK. “Jungkook.” Yoongi nods but keeps his eyes locked on you. “Tell me Jungkook, does she have a cute pet name for you?” “Five alarm.” JK responds with confidence and your heart drops. Yoongi looks at him in complete confusion.

“Like five alarm fire. All the girls at the office call me that. They joke that I look like a fireman.” He chuckles. Yoongi joins in for a brief moment before excusing himself, heading to grab a drink at the bar. You scurry behind him. “Don’t be upset. It’s not what you think.” You say as Yoongi throws back a shot. “I’m not mad pint size.” He licks his lips, turning to face you. “Don’t call me that ok. You’re just doing it to be an asshole.” Yoongi hums, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Tell me whore, are you loose with your mouth tonight because you think daddy won’t bend you over in front of all of your little friends?” “No.” You reply meekly, feeling your core heat under his lust filled gaze. He runs his slender fingers along your jawline before walking off to join your group of friends. You bite your lip, trying to calm yourself as JK approaches you.

“Everything ok?” “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” “Your boyfriend seems uncomfortable. Just wanted to check on you…” He nods in Yoongi’s direction and continues talking but soon his voice fades off as you look over at Yoongi who is seated watching your every move. “Y/N, hello?” “Huh? What? I’m sorry.” “I said that I would still like to take you out sometime. I know you have a boyfriend but I figure we can still have dinner as friends.” “Sure, uh, yeah. I’d like that.” He smiles wide and pulls you into a hug, nuzzling into your neck. You tap his back awkwardly and watch as Yoongi cocks his head to the side. “We should get back to the group.” You pull away and head over to sit beside Yoongi. You scan his face for any sort of emotion but he gives you none. He never even looks over at you, instead striking up conversation with Alice. As the night progresses, Yoongi does everything in his power to ignore you. He moves through the party with ease, mingling with all your coworkers as if they’ve been friends for years. Alice laughs loudly, throwing her head back obnoxiously, at something Yoongi has said and you shoot them both a deadly look, having had enough.

You pull Yoongi from the couch and over towards the dance floor where you can speak privately. “Everything ok pint size?” He drawls. “Are you serious? You’re going to act like a child and ignore me? And cut the shit with the nickname ok, I’m over it already.” Yoongi looks over at your coworkers who are all engaged in conversation before grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you into his body. He forcefully yanks back your head to expose your neck to him and licks a long stripe from the base of your neck to your chin, digging you into his growing erection and sway you back and forth as if your dancing. “Keep talking whore, I’m just taking notes for when I have you all to myself. I can’t wait to have you repeat everything you’ve said tonight with my cock stuffed down your throat.” “Fuck, Yoongi.” You pant, grinding your hips into his hard on. “Such a cock whore for me. Dying for me to wreck you. Maybe I should pull you into the bathroom and fuck you stupid while five alarm and all your coworkers wonder where you’ve gone. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Having your little work crush come looking for you, find me pounding your needy cunt. Do you think he’d stay and watch? I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you whore? Have him palm his cock to the sounds of your desperate moans.” Yoongi whispers into your ear, placing kisses along your lobe. You moan softly. “Answer me whore.” “Yes daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad. I want to be punished.” Yoongi chuckles softly into your ear. “Hm, that’s too bad, only good girls get fucked and right now you’re being a very bad girl. ” He grabs a handful of your ass, kisses your neck gently, and walks away with a bite of his lip. You clench your now soaked cunt around nothing, whimpering as he leaves you high and dry. You loved and hated when Yoongi was in a jealous fit. He was unreasonable outside the bedroom, always unwilling to give into your antics as you made attempts at seeking his attention but inside the bedroom, he was the most amazing lover. He was always sure to tease and please you in the most delicious way, reminding you exactly who you belonged to.

You collect yourself and walk over to the group, taking a seat on the arm of the couch since your seat next to Yoongi has been occupied by Alice. Your blood boils as he stares so deeply at her, biting his lip, and giving her all his attention. You know he is just trying to make you feel the way he is right now, he has no interest in Alice, still it eats at you, provokes you even. “So, JK, when did you wanna grab dinner?” You say loud enough for Yoongi’s ears to perk up. “Uh, whenever you want. I’m free whenever.” “Cool, how about during the week, after work. Let’s say Monday.” JK nods. “Yeah, I’m down. Any place in particular you want to go?” You shrug. “You pick. I love being surprised.” You smirk, rubbing your hand along his bicep, and you swear you hear Yoongi growl. “How about a dance Alice?” Yoongi offers, getting up and extending a hand to her. “Uh, if it's ok with Y/N.” Alice turns to you. You scoff and look at Yoongi. “She doesn’t mind, right pint size? Now come on gorgeous, show me how you move.” Alice giggles and allows Yoongi to lead her out on the dance floor.

You watch as Yoongi takes Alice by the hips and maneuvers her body around. She all too willingly allows him to control her every move. She wraps her arms around Yoongi’s neck, seeming to have found a steady rhythm, and bravely pushes her hips into his. He smiles in amusement at her before looking over at you. “Sorry, had to run to the restroom. What did I miss?” JK pops up again, handing you a fresh shot. You drink it happily, rising from your seat and taking JK around the neck. “Let's dance JK. You’re such a good dancer.” You giggle, feeling JK trail his hands along your spine. “You sure that’s a good idea.” You nod slowly, pulling him towards the dance floor, taking a spot right beside Yoongi and Alice. “Y/N, you never mentioned Yoongi was such a good dancer.” Alice calls out to you, spinning around to press her small ass into Yoongi’s crotch. You seethe watching her act like a bitch in heat all over your man. “You shouldn't start what you can't finish." Yoongi warns as you and he spin past each other. You raise your eyebrows at him in defiance and decide to take matters into your own hands, turning just the same as Alice, grinding your very plump ass shamelessly into JK’s crotch, unbothered by your skirt hitching up a bit.

JK grips your hips tightly, a small moan escaping his lips. You run your hands up into his hair and press your back into his chest, falling into a sensual rhythm with your dance partner, all the while watching the color fade from Yoongi’s face. He whispers something to Alice, who nods simply. Yoongi walks over to you and JK, staring down at where your hips are connected. “It's time to go.” Yoongi states calmly. JK scoffs and wraps his arms around you completely. You drop your hands from his hair and wrap them over his, allowing him to pull you closer. “I can drop her off later friend.” He remarks, nuzzling into your neck. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes light on fire. “I wasn’t talking to you, friend.” He’s so hot when he’s this pissed off. You decide to push your luck. “What’s the magic word Min Min?” You tease playfully. JK laughs out loud whilst Yoongi says nothing. He doesn’t have to; you watch as he grips tightly around his belt buckle and you know what he has in mind. He’s had enough of your antics and if you aren’t careful, he may just take you right here on this dance floor, in front of all these people as warned earlier. You turn to face JK. “This was fun. I should really get going though. Dinner Monday yeah?” “Yeah definitely! I had such a good time with you tonight, shame it has to end early. Get home safe. It was nice meeting you Yoongi.” Yoongi nods, hurrying ahead to get away from your group.

He takes you by the wrist, bobbing and weaving through the crowd. “Please don’t be mad at me daddy. I was just teasing. You know how much I love to push your buttons; you’re so sexy when you get riled up.” Yoongi just ignores you, still pulling you along. Annoyed you yank your hand away causing Yoongi to stop and look at you. “If you’re going to ignore me, then I think we should go to our respective apartments tonight. As a matter of fact, I’ll just rejoin my friends and enjoy the rest of my night with them.” You turn to walk away but are immediately yanked back. Yoongi’s lips are on yours in no time, pulling you into an angry kiss. You moan lustfully into his mouth reaching up to cup his face. He grabs your wrist and pulls your arms behind your back, continuing the assault on your mouth. “Yoongi, please. There are people watching. We can’t.” You begin to plead breathlessly between kisses, wriggling in his hold as he trails kisses down your neck, lifting your sweater to fondle your breast. “Afraid of everyone knowing what a cock whore you are?” He growls, nipping at your nipple through your bra.

You yelp, frantically looking around, hoping no one sees. “Oh god, Yoongi, the security guard is walking this way." You cry out, feeling Yoongi suckle your erect nub through the sheer material. He mutters a curse under his breath and begins to yank you behind him once again. “You’re going the wrong way,” You shout at the back of his head, “the exit is the other way.” He pulls you hard into the restroom and slams the door shut being sure to lock it behind him. He presses you against the door, lifting your sweater up, once again latching onto your nipple through your sheer bra. You moan loudly, wrapping a leg around his waist. He takes the opportunity run his hand up your exposed thigh, slapping it hard before gripping the plump flesh. “God damn, Fuck me daddy, please!” You cry out reaching down to stroke his massive erection. He releases your nipple to watch in pleasure as you mewl and wriggle against him, dying for his cock. “My greedy little cock whore. So desperate for cock, didn’t care who filled you tonight did you?” He pants against your ear, grinding into your throbbing cunt. You whimper at the sweet sensation his cock against your clit causes.

“Please, daddy, I only want you.” “Really,” He drops his head to your neck and bites down hard, suckling soon after to create a large purple mark in its wake, “I remember someone else’s hands on these hips.” He replies, lifting you off the ground, wrapping both legs around his waist. You cuss over his lips, shoving your tongue into his mouth as you buck and grind against his jailed member. “I need you, want you inside me.” You pant, feeling your core tighten with your quickened pace. “That’s enough whore.” Yoongi groans, dropping you to your feet. Your legs are shaky, and you feel your climax fade away. “What the fuck Yoongi?” You shove him back. His eyes darken as he smirks at you, pulling you away from the door and leading you further into the restroom. “I’m not playing around Yoongi! Fuck me or let me leave. I’m not going to stroke your ego tonight. Especially when there are other people out there who want me.” “Other people huh? Like your little work boyfriend?” “Exactly right, and please believe he’s more than eager to taste this cunt.” He chuckles now, unbuckling his belt. “Lean on the sink whore, lift that skirt, show me your ass! Right now!” You watch him for a moment longer, then excitedly turn and pull your skirt up, leaning on your elbows, pushing your ass out as far as you can. “Always so eager.” He growls. “Anything for you daddy." “That’s my girl.” He praises before coming down on your exposed ass with his leather belt. You cry out at the burning sensation. Your cunt clenching and soaking through your sheer thong. He hums in approval at you as you twirl your hips side to side, coming down again with another thwack. You gasp, pressing your forehead against the cold counter, pushing out further for him. “Fuck my whore is so sexy. Look how red this sweet ass gets for me. My cock is so hard for you baby. How’d I get so lucky?” You pout and twirl your hips some more. “Don’t stop daddy. I need more. I’ve been so bad.” Yoongi dips his head back so overcome with lust as a low growl escapes his throat. He gladly obliges with two more hard cracks of his leather, one across the ass, the other across your thighs. You scream his name with each one, earning low groans from him. “Such a good whore.” He praises, slowly lowering down to his knees, unbuttoning his jeans. “Get on all fours right now you fucking slut.” You nod and lower yourself before him. “Open your mouth for me.” He pants, freeing his thick length. You moan out whilst opening as wide as you can. Yoongi strokes himself gently, moving towards your gaping mouth. He slowly swirls his head around your lips, coating them in his salty pre-cum. “Tongue out.” He commands. You roll your tongue out, curling it around his length as he slaps his member against it. He takes you by your hair and slowly shoves the whole of his cock into your mouth, hitching his hips forward ever so gently. You moan around him causing him to grip your hair tighter.

“God has never made a better cock sleeve.” He grunts, slamming into your throat, eliciting a body trembling gag. He moans loudly at the feeling. “No one takes cock like you baby. Do you think I’d ever let that inexperienced bag of muscle touch you? He’d cum just from the scent of your needy cunt.” He hitches forward once more, hissing as you gag and drool all over him. “Still wish it was him in your mouth? Still wish he could watch?” He growls pulling out slightly, allowing you time to catch your breath. “No, daddy.” You pant. He pouts at you, shoving himself deep into your throat again. “I love when you lie.” He moans, coming down on your ass with a hard thwack of his belt. You shove forward swallowing more of his cock, your nose pressed against his pubic bone. “Fuck!” He cries out, coming down again with his belt. A loud slam on the door causes you pull off his cock much to his surprise. “I wasn’t finished whore.” “Someone’s knocking.” You swallow hard, nervously looking at the door. Yoongi stands now, helping you to your feet. “I don’t give a fuck who’s at the door.” He lifts you up and onto the counter. You cry out at the sting from the cold against your fresh formed welts. Another slam on the door causes you to jump and attempt to lean forward. Yoongi shoves you back, dropping his hand between your legs to rub your clothed center. “Occupied,” He yells before turning his attention to you, “already soaked through huh whore? I bet I’d slide right inside you, wouldn’t I?”

You grind against his hand, nodding excitedly. “Use your words whore!” He shouts, pinching your sensitive bud through your panties. You hiss, bucking forward. “Yes! Fuck yes!” He smiles wide at your reaction. “You like that, do you whore?” “Yes.” You quiver, opening your legs wide. He shoves your skirt up, yanking down your thong. “Spread your lips for me.” You drop your hands down, opening your folds for him. He bites his lip looking over your exposed pussy. “So. Fucking. Wet! Look at yourself whore, dripping down onto this counter with your fucking need.” He hums to himself, dropping his head down to your exposed hood and slurping up your clit in his mouth. “Jesus, God! Yoongi!” You yell, thighs shaking at the twisted feeling of pleasure and overstimulation. He nips at your clit, lifting his head up to your dismay. “What did you call me?” “I’m sorry,” You pant, “please don’t stop.” He smiles. “Don’t stop what?” He muses, shoving two fingers into your sopping pussy. You clench instantly as he begins to pump in and out of you. You throw your head back against the mirror. “More.” You barely manage. “So, fucking greedy.” He replies softly into your ear, shoving a third finger into you. You whimper, grabbing hold of his rock-hard cock, stroking him from root to tip. “Please can I make daddy cum? I want you to cum all over my face. Use me as your cum rag.” You breathlessly beg, hastening your pace. Yoongi pants against your ear, moving his fingers in and out of you at the same pace in which you stroke his length. “Faster whore.” He goads, removing his fingers from your clenching cunt. You whine at the sudden loss of his touch but revel in his glorious lust filled stance. He grips your thighs for balance, tossing his head back, spewing curses under his breath, his bangs sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

Soft moans escape his bobbing throat. “I’m going to cum. On your knees!” You slide off the counter quickly, still stroking, hitting your knees with a loud thud. He takes his cock from you, rubbing large circles around his tip with one hand, and guiding your head back with the other. You open your mouth for him as he cries out, the first shot of his hot seed shooting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, he guides his quivering cock around your face, releasing long strands onto your cheeks, your lips, and your chin, sure to avoid your eyes. He moves his tip against your lips, rubbing it softly against your tongue, the last bits of his climax coating the tip of your moist appendage. He pulls his cock away wrapping his long slender fingers around your jaw, keeping it wide open for him, a small moan escapes as you watch your lover drop a small amount of spit into your mouth. “Swallow whore.” He commands, releasing you. You gulp down the concoction happily, opening wide to show him what a good girl you are. He breaths raggedly, watching you in approval, lifting a hand to swirl his cum around your face and into your mouth. You lap up all the sweet/ salty mixture you can reach with your tongue before Yoongi swirls his coated fingers over your lips. “Such a cum whore for daddy. Look how you eat up my cum up like it’s your favorite treat. I could drain my balls and you'd still want more.” You suckle at his fingers, swallowing his thick fluids, and nod. “I love daddy's cum.” He helps you to your feet and spins you around, bending you over the counter. “You’ve been such a good whore for daddy. Is my whore ready to cum?” “Yes daddy, please.” He bites on your earlobe as he slowly enters your sopping cunt. You both gasp at how desperately your walls clench and grip at his thick cock. “Fuck, always so fucking tight for daddy.” He admires you for a minute in the mirror, your mouth wide, holding back a sob whilst he shoves deeper inside your tight walls until he bottoms out. You cry out as he begins to slam in and out of your cunt, curving his body slightly to rub his full head against your g-spot. He takes a handful of your hair and lifts your head up so you can see yourself in the mirror. “I want you to see what I see whore. I want you to see why I love you so fucking much. Just look at how gorgeous you look when you take my cock. Fuck, I could explode just watching you come undone.” His words cause your belly to burn as your climax rises from your toes, you can barely even form words, only able to babble as drool forms at the sides of your mouth.

He smirks at your fucked out look, swirling the fresh drool with his dried cum, and bringing it into your gaping mouth. You moan around his fingers, sucking hard at his digits. He yanks his fingers from your mouth, coming down hard on your ass with a loud slap. “Whose sopping cunt is this?” “Yours daddy! It’s all yours.” “Damn fucking right it is!” He grunts, taking you by the hips, quickening his pace. You hopelessly claw at something to hold onto as he rams into you. His animal like sounds bringing you closer and closer to your finish. Your toes curl in your shoes and your calf muscles tighten as you try to maintain a steady footing. Yoongi wraps an arm around your waist to help steady you, bringing his free hand down to make figure eights on your swollen clit. “Uh, fuck, I can't, I'm gonna fucking come so hard daddy.” “Mm, that’s right whore, cum on daddy's cock. Scream for me, I want to hear you cry for this cock.” Your climax begins as a slow tremor within your walls that burns deliciously into an explosion of forceful pulses throughout your cunt that has her clamping down on Yoongi’s cock so intensely it pulls a sob from his throat. You don’t hold back, so overcome by the crashing waves of bliss you yell out his name until your throat is raw. He continues fucking into you his breath becoming more and more uneasy as his balls tighten against you. “It’s too much daddy.” You whine, overstimulation hitting you. “Fuck! This glorious fucking cunt!” He shouts, slamming hard into your cervix, his release pulsing against your cervical opening. His thrust become sloppy as he comes down from his high, his cum slowly seeping out of you. He rests his head on your back, allowing you both time to catch your breath. “I love you. I fucking love you so much.” He pulls out of you, helping you up, and pulling you into a soft kiss. You melt into his warmth, nibbling at his plump bottom lip. “I love you too.” “I’m sorry if I was too rough,” He rubs his large hands over your sore ass, “I still get jealous. I’m trying to be better.” You laugh at his pouty confession. “If you keep fucking me like that, I might just keep making you jealous.” He scoffs kissing you softly again. “Let’s go home for real baby. I’ll take care of you.” You nod in approval, fixing yourselves up. Yoongi holds your hair back as you wash your face in the sink, once you feel you look presentable again, you stuff your thong in his jacket pocket and make for the exit. You unlock the door anxiously expecting a line but luckily there is no one waiting. You both shove through the crowd toward the exit when you feel a tug on your hand. “You’re still here?” JK smiles at you. “Uh, well, we uh.” “Fucked in the bathroom.” Yoongi offers up with a straight face. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as JK laughs out loud. “Wait, what? Are you serious?” He looks from you to Yoongi and back again. Yoongi laughs wide, exposing his gums. “I’m fucking with you kid!” JK huffy a bit before breaking into a full laugh. “You’re funny man,” JK bumps his fist into Yoongi's shoulder, “Hey get home safe again ok pint size, dinner Monday night.” He winks with all his might at you, walking off into the crowd. Yoongi rolls his eyes, resting his hand on the small of your back. He places a soft kiss on your temple, lowering a bit to whisper in your ear. “You know you’re not going to dinner with him right?” You chuckle, leaning into Yoongi’s chest. “Will you fuck me in the ass as punishment if I do?” Yoongi bites his lip, “Such an insatiable appetite my whore has.” He whispers, swatting you on the ass. “I’ll never get enough of you daddy.” You mewl, savoring the feel of the night air on your face.

#bts smut #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi smut

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annie-mit-ie · 3 years

Text

Glimpses: Part 12 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: Will you be able to go with Kathryn?

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is a little shorter, I know, but I hope all of you still enjoy it. Look at this little tag list we have going on now!! - I might actually get a little emotional that so many of you are still reading this little story. With all that being said, here we gooooo. xx

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl

Don't forget to check out the new official Playlist! :)

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“You can’t take her.” Jennifer is walking up and down in Kathryn’s office. She arrived here right after you had left, ready to plan to thrip to New York, as well as the upcoming project. Kathryn shifts her focus from her hand to her manager and huffs.

“NO. Kathryn, no. You know it yourself. First of all, she is a distraction. Yes, you like her, I KNOW, but this is not you. This is not how you do your job.” Jennifer looks at her boss with pleading eyes.

Running her fingers through her long mane, Kathryn bites the insides of her cheek. “you’re right, I know you are, but at the same time…”

“NO BUTS, Kathryn.” Jennifer interrupts her, prompting Kathryn to shoot her a short glare.

“…but at the same time I haven’t been this happy in years.” Thinking back at the time you spent with her, a small smile creeps onto her face.

Jennifer gets it. She understands Kathryn’s point, but as her manager it’s her job to secure the actress’ job, which is why she needs to make sure there are as few distractions from work as possible included in the trip.

Placing a hand on her arm, Jennifer looks at Kathryn with warm eyes. “Sweetie, I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it either, because I know how good the time with her is for your heart. But we can’t have this. Not now. Not during your shining moment. Yeah?”

Slowly but surely, Kathryn starts to nod as she can feel the sadness rise in her chest.

Meanwhile, you and Alex are having the same conversation back in your room. She tries to talk sense into you and talks animatedly to her phone, as you try to find a way to accompany Kathryn.

“Honey, you simply can’t. There is no way. It’s during the exam phase. You can’t be abroad for that.” She shakes her head.

Considering your options, you try to talk against her. “I could ask for online exams.”

“… there is a multiple hour time difference - you can’t be serious, Y/N.”

“I could postpone exams?” You raise an eyebrow.

Alex shakes her head harder now. “NO GIRL. No. Kathryn wouldn’t want you screwing up your education for this. You have leftover classes, exams to write and then you’ll have to write term papers you have to prepare for,” you take a visible breath. “Yes love, I am aware you could write those on set but we all know you wouldn’t. It’s better for you to stay.”

You want to argue. You really do. But there are a few things holding you back. First of all, you know Alex makes a valid point. Second of all, you don’t even know where you are standing with Kathryn. What are you to her? What is happening with her? The lines are so blurry that it’s hard for you to see, so you think it might be better not to assume and make a fuss about all of it.

Lastly, you don’t even know if she wants to have you by her side in the first place, because, again, it’s not like she is your girlfriend or anything. Not that you wouldn’t want her to be.

So, just like Kathryn does with Jennifer, you agree to what Alex says and make your decision to stay, even though it hurts your heart just as much as it hurts hers.

Given the fact, that she has to leave for New York right the next morning, it’s not possible for you to see her again. You think back at the soft kiss she planted on your lips as you left her house under yesterday’s hot afternoon sun. You feel so good with her and you can’t stop to think back at how beautiful her eyes look up close - even more beautiful than on all her pictures that Alex and you have been sending back and forth whenever Kathryn did a new promo shoot.

It’s late afternoon as you’re lying on your bed and stare at the ceiling, a random Marvel movie running in the background. Alex has been trying to hype you up all day, but, given the fact that Kathryn is gone for an unforeseen time, you still feel sad.

You turn off the movie because you can’t seem to concentrate and connect your phone to the speakers to play some music. You remember that you can sit on your windowsill that’s facing the backyard and and decide to sit down and watch the birds in the tree outside your window as you open Spotify and it starts playing the last song you stopped on. “She” by dodie fills the room and you don’t think you related to a song like that ever before.

It really describes the feelings of uncertainty that you have right now. It doesn’t help that you never really took the chance to talk to her about all of not. Not properly, at least. This mistake leaves you with this endless feeling of emptiness that seems like it’s eating you up from the inside as you don’t even know if she feels the same in any way.

Your phone chimes and you nearly fall off the windowsill as you shoot up to reach for it. It’s the group chat you thought had died a while ago that you joined right after Kathryn appeared on Wandavision.

Apparently, news of Kathryn’s casting already sank through and everyone is screaming about it. Unwilling to share any knowledge, and also way too careful with it, you want to put your phone away as it chimes again and your eyes widen.

You immediately click the message.

“New York is wild! Haven’t had time to get to you yet. Seems like everyone and their mom wants to speak to me today. Just left my second meeting and now I have to leave for a work dinner in a few. How’s the day going back home? xxx K.”

A bright smile creeps onto your face as you realize she uses the “everyone and their mom” phrase that you use so much whenever you describe difficult situations to her. You decide not to reply immediately - you don’t want her to assume you are sitting on your phone just waiting for her.

Instead you opt to create some art and grab your supplies. There is an empty canvas behind your bed and you feel like there are enough feelings trapped in you to create something cool on it.

Your mom works long on Mondays, so you haven't realized just how much time has passed as you perform the last of the night and call it a day. Your picture is colorful. Very much so. The acrylic paint hasn’t even dried yet, but there are already tons of ideas floating around in your head about what to do with the artwork from here on out. Maybe you should get some fine liners and work out the edges, maybe do some highlighting as well, you don't know yet.

Just as you want to put the brush aside your phone lights up on your bed. You can't pick it up just now because the slowly drying paint sticks to your fingers and you anxiously reach for the closest paper towel to white it off as best as you can. Not expecting anything, you finally reach for your phone and pick up the call before reading the name - an automatic reaction to late night calls from Alex.

You are greeted by a very familiar, yet unexpected, face. Kathryn smiles into the camera and adjusts the lights around her. She is clearly in her pjs, with no make up on, her hair open and messy, falling off her shoulder. You can see she is wearing a loose gray shirt and your whole body starts tingling as you realize it's the shirt she gave you to sleep in last weekend. Immediately, your brain runs wild and you try to figure out if she packed this exact shirt on purpose or just grabbed the one that was available easiest as she was probably in a rush.

Luckily, Kathryn interrupts your train of thought. “Hey! Hiya hon! I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright because you haven’t replied to my message.”

For the first time you look at the clock. It’s 8.30pm and you haven’t had dinner yet.

“Shit.”, you mutter and your hand flies to cover your mouth immediately.

Kathryn, who hasn’t heard your muttering, looks confused. “Sweetheart, is everything alright?”

You smile thankfully. “Yes! Yes it is. I guess I was just wrapped up in my art and you pulled me out of it and I always need a minute to adjust. I’m fine. It’s late though and I haven’t eaten yet. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Good. Do you want me to order you pizza or something. Because I totally would.” She reaches for a notepad.

“Alright Mom…” she looks at you for a moment and you can’t tell if she is shocked or amused or anything really because she stopped reacting completely and just stares at you. Right when you are about to start panicking about the situation she bursts into laughter.

“I mean I’M SORRY. How dare I offer pizza.” She continues laughing. You love this. This is easy and light and you realize once again just how much you enjoy her company. Gosh, you miss her already.

You remember her message as you make your way downstairs. “How was dinner, Kathryn? And the rest of your day? Tell me about it!”

For the next 10 minutes, as you prepare your own dinner, she tells you about her day and the plans for the next few weeks. The two of you laugh and make jokes and for a moment it seems like both of you have forgotten that you won’t see each other for a while. After she finishes talking, you fall into a comfortable silence and just look and smile at each other for a moment.

“I like you, you know?” She is the one to interrupt the silence. “Spending time with you makes me really happy and I’m sad you can’t come to Europe with me. I need you to know. I wish I could’ve taken you with me.”

Your heart melts and your hands start to shake as you realize Kathryn might indeed feel the same way. You put the knife, that’s in your hand from making dinner, aside. You’re unable to answer right away and fight for the right words, so she continues on with her short monologue.

“I just wanted to call tonight to check in and see how you are doing since I had to kick you out so abruptly last night and maybe we can do this from time to time, check in on each other? I would love that.”

Check in on each other? Why is she so vague all the time? For a moment you thought she’d confess her feelings for you but here you are again, uncertain of what she really thinks about you. You smile, though, and try to keep it calm because you don’t want her to get annoyed with you already.

You realize it’s getting close to 9pm, which means it should be about midnight at her place. Taking responsibility, you send her off to sleep and have a short dinner followed by some reading yourself.

Before Kathryn hangs up, she promises you to call again before leaving for Europe completely. She also wants to know if you want a souvenir from NYC (why is she so cute?) and tells you to call her anytime you need something or someone. With that, she shoots you the brightest smile and leaves you to it.

The ecstatic feeling you felt when you talked to her fades quickly as you come down from the call. Suddenly, your home feels all quiet and lonely and the silence is killing you. You walk back up to your room to sit on your bed and stare out of your window to enjoy the night sky. The tree right next to your room is slowly moving in the wind as its branches scratch the glasses surface.

You decide to call it a day as the week ahead is full of work and school and the weekend was eventful, so you change into comfy clothes and get ready for bed immediately. You fall onto your bed a few minutes later just as your phone lights up again.

"Good night, Sweetheart. It was great seeing your face. xxx K."

#kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #Kathryn Hahn x You #Kathryn Hahn fan fiction #Kathryn Hahn Fanfiction #groupie #groupie au

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

Headcannon: Shieldmaiden friend with his brothers

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: “I was hoping I could request a headcanon of Ivar being nervous around a new shieldmaiden that is friends with his brothers? He finds her attractive, but that makes him nervous bc of his legs and what ppl have said all his life.”

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: My horrible attempts at whatever the fuck this ended up being, nothing else I can think of.

A/N: So yeah, I made a thing. Am I happy with the thing? Nope. Am I proud of the thing? Nopity nope. Am I gonna post it anyways and hope you guys don’t hate it? Yep.

But yeah, first time writing headcanons, first time diving head first into season 4 Ivar. I sincerely hope you like it, and idk, would love to hear your thoughts, good or bad, on this one. Thank you!

Taglist: @1950schick

· You were one of the shieldmaidens to accompany Björn to the Mediterranean, and you grew close to both him and Hvitserk on the journey.

· You joined the Great Heathen Army alongside your brother, and everyone was surprised to see Björn sprint towards you as soon as he saw your ship, lifting you off the ground in a tight embrace.

· Although Sigurd isn’t too thrilled or interested in you, both Ubbe and Ivar are immediately drawn to you.

· The former, because there’s rumors about how you once bested Björn when sparring with those curved swords.

· The latter, for completely different reasons. Though, you being a great warrior does help.

· With you being close to his brothers Ivar finds himself knowing more and more about you with every passing day, and in the midst of the war to avenge his father, with his heart heavy with pain and loss, he finds you, with your easy smiles and your friendly nature, a welcome distraction.

· That’s what he calls it, at first. When he spends each chance he has watching you from afar, witnessing your interactions with the group of shieldmaidens you call sisters in arms; when he finds himself thinking of you late at night and early in the morning; when he realizes he misses you when you’re gone, even though he tells himself he has nothing to miss.

· The realization that he actually feels something for you dawns on him when he sees some Dane warrior dancing with you on a feast after Aelle is conquered, and the urge to stake his claim, to go there and interrupt whatever it is that is happening before his eyes, fills him, makes an impulsive hand reach for the axe at his side.

· Ivar is…well, Ivar, so there’s no way he’d willingly let you -or anyone else, for that matter- know that he’s interested in you.

· Which he is. Very much so. Because, much to his growing frustration -in more ways than one- he can’t get you out of his head.

· Still, that doesn’t mean he’d willingly disclose it. He isn’t subtle, though.

· But people notice. His brothers notice.

· Björn isn’t thrilled with it, but considering Aslaug isn’t alive to bend to Ivar’s will and have some poor girl forced into marriage with the youngest son of Ragnar, he isn’t too concerned. If something happens, it is because you choose it so, and that’s enough for him.

· Ubbe bristles up. He knows bits and pieces of what happened with Margrethe, but he has been witness too many times of how Sigurd uses what happened with her against Ivar- something he swears one day will end in tragedy, thankfully nothing too difficult to contain or heal so far-; and he still feels responsible about setting up the whole thing. The last thing he wants is for it to happen again, with someone that is quickly becoming a close friend of him and his brothers.

· And of course, Sigurd notices, and is cruelly delighted in it. He does try a couple of times teasing Ivar about it when you’re near, but you never stood for those kinds of games, so he was eventually discouraged from continuing.

· Doesn’t stop him from privately tormenting Ivar about it. It is his duty as older brother after all, and since Ubbe is too busy mothering Ivar, and Hvitserk too busy trying to fuck his way through England, it falls unto him. He may go too far once or twice, but their relationship has always been that way.

· Sigurd’s teasing only manages to put Ivar more and more on edge about these stupid -pathetic, useless, soft- feelings, and the few times you try getting close to him, he usually snaps at you or reacts badly.

· Because you are very interested, even if you are much better at hiding it. Ivar proves to be incredibly smart, and with the march of the Great Heathen Army being the first time you’ve travelled this far from home, fought in so many important battles, you find yourself fascinated by him and the way he seems to understand what goes beyond fighting, what becomes war.

· But, when you are try getting close to him with subtle flirting or soft touches, Ivar thinks you are pitying him or mocking him, and when you are more direct and try finding common ground to get to know each other, he thinks you’re pushing him away.

· It confuses you, and frankly, it confuses him too.

· It confuses everyone that has become an unwilling spectator to all of this.

· Ivar does try his best at being nice to you, it just manages to backfire most of the time.

· You could be sharing a meal with him and his brothers, and he’d try complimenting you, saying something about how you have proven to be a fine shieldmaiden. But feeling too many eyes on him, feeling like he left himself open for ridicule or rejection, he’d add something else, like how you are obviously aided by the fact you use weapons not familiar to Vikings.

· He’d fuck most things up, is what I mean.

· And he’d know -and you’d make it very much clear- that he has upset you, or made you angry.

· He would try apologizing, but it is Ivar, so “I’m sorry” won’t leave his lips unless someone pries it off him, so, he’d try…alternative approaches.

· First, gifts. Women like those, right? He’d try buying the prettiest, most expensive thing he can find, and leaving it for you to find. Or, if he is in a particularly good day -if he managed to get one up on Sigurd, maybe, that’d be a good day- he’d give it to you in person.

· Throwing expensive things at you wouldn’t exactly work, making you feel inadequate and cheap. He notices, so he’d try something else.

· He wants you closer, so he makes it so that you always sit with him and his brothers at the table where the leaders of the army dine.

· Before long many men -including Harald, to whom Ivar notices you giving easier smiles than the rest, much to his horror- manage to sleaze their way to the chair at your other side, chatting with you during the nights, making you smile and laugh.

· When word of how one of them tried talking your brother into a marriage arrangement reaches Ivar, he pulls back on his idea of having you sit with him.

· To you, it just looks like a rejection, and Ivar notices you grow colder, more distant.

· With the threat of how desired you have proven yourself to be, a beautiful woman and a fierce shieldmaiden, hanging over his head, Ivar grows more and more restless, and resolute he has to prove to you he can offer you much more than any of these men can.

· He tries everything he can think of. Make it so that you are there when he beats his brothers in target practice, boast about how his strategy was what won them many a battle against the Saxons, repeat the tales about how he and his brothers are descended from the Gods themselves.

· When Ivar makes the contraptions for his legs, he goes to find you with -barely contained, he shouldn’t even bother trying to hide it really- enthusiasm, trying to show off in front of you.

· He ties a lot of his self-worth into how people perceive him, into how much of a ‘normal man’ he can pass off as, and as we know he stands a lot prouder and a lot more confident once he gains more control of the Great Army and manages to make those things.

· When you see him, though, even though he is preening and standing tall, chin high and shoulders squared; all you do is look at the contraptions around his legs and back into his eyes.

· “You’re a better fighter without those.” You’d say, and nothing else.

· Ivar would sulk. There’s no way to impress you, nothing he can do to make you look at him with that mischievous streak you share with Hvitserk, or that companiable closeness you have with Björn.

· Anger would quickly enough win over any impulse to sulk and feel sorry for himself, though.

· He’d eventually grow colder, crueler, towards you. He’d feel like you rejected him, and being angry towards you -and in return making you be angry towards him- gives him someone to blame, gives him some way of letting the pain have form, have a target for all the mess of emotions it leaves inside him.

· When Björn starts making plans to return to the Mediterranean, he fully expects to see you depart following his brother and never seeing you again.

· He hates himself for grieving the loss of you, someone he never had, someone that -as far as he knows- never cared about him anyways.

· But he does. The day when Björn and those who choose to come with him will depart East approaches, and Ivar is more on edge than ever.

· Restless, angry, and with no one to blame but himself. But, of course, he won’t do that, no.

· He taunts you, makes jabs at you and how you run after Björn like an enamored thrall, points out you choose to sail a ship like a coward instead of staying here -staying with him- and fighting the Saxons.

· When you snap back, voice loud and eyes furious, that you were never planning on sailing back with Björn, you manage for once to stun Ivar into silence.

· You don’t even give him time to hold on to cruelty, to the pain and anger he uses as both a weapon and a shield. You stand up from the table and leave the hall.

· Hvitserk doesn’t lift his head from his food, but still grumbles that he should go after her. At Ivar’s affronted frown, Ubbe insists that he should, offering his little brother a sly smile and something about going to find his woman.

· Ivar would deny to his very grave and beyond it that his ears turned red at the implication behind Ubbe’s words.

· But he did, trying to dispel thoughts that told him how he was running after you like a lovesick puppy.

· When he finds you, you are still angry, because of course you are. And your anger is to Ivar like an electric shock over an exposed nerve, drawing out all the vitriol and fury and explosiveness.

· Before long he has managed to make you angrier than he has ever seen you, and your voices rise with your tempers.

· A second time you manage to stun Ivar into silence comes shortly after the argument between the two erupts.

· He doesn’t even remember what he was about to say, only that with a few words about how you chose to stay with the Great Army for him makes all the thoughts on his head disappear.

· Before he can twist himself into knots about it, thinking how it must surely be a lie, how you are playing some cruel trick on him; you lean in and kiss him.

· Ivar doesn’t know how to react, not at first. The only woman he has kissed before was a slave his brother instructed to sleep with him, and he refuses to think of that night, of that woman.

· He stays frozen under your touch, until you pull back, and smile.

· He realizes when lack of air makes your kiss end that in your eyes you don’t have that glint of playfulness you share with Hvitserk, or that comfortable understanding you have with Björn; but something more tender, more real, and definitely hungrier.

____

So yeah, that’s that. I have never written headcanons before, and I struggle a lot with season 4 Ivar (who am I kidding, I struggle with writing Ivar in general) even tho he is my favorite Ivar. Idk, I gave it my best, hopefully I can learn from this and get better at it lol

Thank you so much for reading, lovelies!! <3

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

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cherryonigiri · 4 years

Text

when and where (oikawa tooru) - part one

Summary: Tooru can’t seem to understand you loneliness, and you can’t understand his desire to sacrifice anything to be by your side again. In which the words ‘opposites attract’ are both your beginning and end. (Inspired by the song/lyrics of Undone by Haley Reinhart)

word count: 1.8k

“Stars fade away, they just crash into space, disappear from my life, like you and I.”

“Tooru,” you whisper. The numbers ‘5:00′ glare back at you in red, reminding you of the sleep that continues to evade you, despite feeling utterly exhausted. Your phone is glowing against the pitch black, the blue light acting as a substitute for the moon, which hides behind wispy clouds. “I miss you.” There is an ache that starts in the back of your throat, winding its way down to your chest where it stays, pushing, prodding, pounding against your sternum. Thankfully your voice doesn’t crack, but the tears are still there, trailing down your cheeks. You’ve steeled your resolve, but your heart is still drowning in the loss that is yet to come.

“I know darling,” he laughs. “I miss you too.” Another light-hearted chuckle. You can hear him shuffling through his bag. Seconds later, after the tap of shoes on tile, keys jingle and you hear the thump of the door shutting. It’s almost evening in Brazil (you know because you’ve long since memorized how many hours are between Sendai and Rio). The sun is probably setting on the beach Tooru just returned from, in complete opposition to the flickering stars keeping watch over your sleepless figure.

That’s how it is between the two of you. Day and night. Tooru was more than happy to revel in his overwhelming brightness - embracing his role as the best setter in the prefecture and his popularity amongst his fans. He always had that smirk, the one that was always plastered on his face that screamed confidence in who he was.

On the other hand, you clung to your shyness - you’d never liked large crowds to begin with, and you were happy with the small, close-knit, group of friends you’d made. You weren’t closed off, but new things were met with caution. Tentative touches and long gazes to determine whether an unfamiliar addition would disturb the peaceful familiarity you’d woven.

The words ‘opposites attract’ made you snort, but you couldn’t deny that you’d been drawn to Tooru’s effervescent energy. (A year after you’d started dating Tooru had admitted he’d found a quiet refuge in his relationship with you.) In the beginning, Tooru had coaxed you out of your shell. Never forcefully, and always done with an observant eye. He ignored his team’s teasing, only inviting you to watch them practice after introducing you to each member individually outside of the university gymnasium. He’d rush you home in a heartbeat the minute you looked overwhelmed or uncomfortable. Like two planets, gravity had drawn you together, pushing you closer and closer with every orbit.

Now it’s different. Gravity is chasing after you, bringing your heart catastrophically close to disaster before flinging it into the distance. Your whispered ‘I miss you’ wasn’t an attempt to impart a fleeting bit of affection, or to reassure Tooru that your heart still beat for him every second of the day (which it did). No, it was meant to hide an unspoken plea that was begging him to return, to once again indulge in hour long phone calls late into the evening; to be present. Of course, you weren’t expecting him to pick up on that. After all, you’d dedicated your time alone to perfecting the art of not letting anyone know of your unravelling.

It started slowly—long video chats in the evening became less frequent, replaced by a dwindling number of rushed phone calls on the train to work. Short texts, snuck between sets and during water breaks, became the norm, erasing your habit of sending each other paragraphs about your days. You knew he felt guilty for missing the small snippets of time that he could spend with you. At the core of his being, Tooru is a caring person: he would run himself ragged and work himself to the bone for someone he loved. It was a double-edged sword; working harder and dedicating more time to accelerate his progress so he could return to you faster meant he was inevitably drifting away.

“Tooru, I can’t do this anymore.” You wince as you throw your plan out of the window, foregoing any kind of verbal cue that would let him know that this was serious. That you were talking about more than having a mundanely horrible day at work.

“Love, what happened today? Was today a bad day? I thought work was going better…” Your boyfriend trails off as you remain silent.

“This. Us. I think,” you gulp down the sob that threatens to erupt from your throat. “I think we should break up.” You have to force out those two words, break up, because saying them out loud makes it real. Makes this whole conversation real. Grounds it reality, in the realization that this is really happening, that your heartbreak is rushing towards you much faster than you ever wanted.

You expect him to protest. To at least exclaim loudly and object to the separation. Maybe a part of you wants him to plead, to experience the same hollow loneliness of missing him. To tell you that, yes, I am suffering just as much, and feeling just as broken as you are. Maybe you are desperate, hoping that he’ll convince you that the exuberance he expresses over the phone is one of his carefully constructed facades.

“Can I at least know why?” You catch the slight uptick of his voice, the crack that he tries to hide from you.

And that’s when your heart truly shatters.

Because, by asking that question, he reveals that somewhere between his last night in your apartment and today, at five in the morning, the two of you stopped inhabiting the same realm of separation. In a way, Tooru had confirmed what you’d started fearing with every passing day: that he was stronger than you’d ever be. That he could bear the weight of being separated by continents and oceans while you were crumbling. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t endure the pile of missed calls followed by rushed texts of apology. You can’t stand that the only time you can talk to him is on crowded subways where the ever present bustle of other commuters intrudes on your conversations. God, now that you think about it, when was the last time you’d talked to Tooru for more than five minutes?

“We barely talk anymore Tooru,” you begin, hunching over as both the tears and words begin to flow freely. “I—”

“But you know why y/n!” he responds. He’s pacing, the thumps of his feet echoing through the receiver. He lets out a sigh and you know he’s running his hand through his hair. It’s one of his habits that you have memorized. It’s painful how easy it is for you to imagine Tooru; all his little gestures and mannerisms etched deeply and intimately into your memory.

“Yes, I know why,” you hiss. “But the fact that you never told me outright? That hurt Tooru.” It still does. It’s his strange blend of selflessness and ambition that has led you here. You thought you’d be sad, that this conversation would leave you with a heavy heart. Instead, a small spark of anger lodges itself in your chest.

“How was I supposed to?” He retorts. “It’s not like I can ask you to give up your time with me. I’m trying my best to get back to you sooner!” But how can he say that when he’s already left you behind? Instead of extinguishing your anger, he only fans the flames, truly setting you alight.

“Did you ever think to ask me? Did it ever occur to you that I would rather have waited for longer if that meant you could actually have time for us?” Your rage is dangerous and all-consuming, centering you within the bitterness of the isolation that Tooru had forced upon you.

Silence. And then,

“Y/n…” The way Tooru says your name nearly breaks your resolve. “Please, just wait a little longer. I’ll figure something out, I can train more so I can come back in less than a year. I’m just asking you to be patient.” No, no, no. What he’s offering is worse. You want him to make more space for your relationship, not less. In his quest to hasten his return, he’d turned to a method that consumed the time you occupied in his day. Slowly but surely, the space you’d taken up was sacrificed, leaving you with nothing but those five minutes on the train ride to work.

“That’s not what I want!” You shout. Why is his solution to make things worse?

“Then what do you want?” He screams back, his thinly veiled irritation blooming into confused anger. “You’re lonely, so I’m trying my fucking best to go back to you as soon as possible. “Why…” he pauses, as if he’ll regret his words, before plowing on, “can’t you just accept that?”

Suddenly, all the air is knocked out of your lungs with a whoosh. You barely have time to realize you’d stood up in the midst of your argument before you’re sagging against your bed frame, wilting until you’re sitting on the floor.

You’ve given up, because Tooru’s stubbornness has manifested itself as an irremovable wedge between the two of you. Blinded by his belief that all you desire and yearn for is his physical presence, he can’t even begin to see that all you want is to be given a semblance of space within his life. To have a few hours of his voice, rather than the fleeting promise of reuniting sooner. To accompany him, rather than wait for him at the end of his journey. He is unwilling to bear witness to the different kind of loneliness you suffer; unwilling to peer into the parallel, yet utterly different, dimension of suffering that branches from his own longing for you.

“Tooru…” I’m being selfish, “This isn’t working. Just let us go,” whatever we are now, before it gets worse. You’re not sure if he can hear the shaky inhale of your lungs as you try to steady your voice.

“I can’t,” he sobs. “Why can’t you see I’m doing this for you?”

Because you can only see me as the finish line, not as someone who runs beside you. Because somehow, you can only worry about the me you see in the future, not the person who is speaking to you now. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice still wavering despite your best efforts.

‘No, please, y/n—”

One last reassurance. “Thank you for everything.” I love you.

“Y/n wait, please, don’t do this.” His pleas are tearing you apart. “I can take a break, fly back—”

You refuse to be the reason he halts his momentum. “Goodbye, Tooru.” A broken whisper.

Equal and opposite, two stars crash into each other violently. Flickering in and out, they vie for the chance to exist as they clash against each other, emitting white sparks.

A press of a red button.

Both of them are gone.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #aoba johsai #seijoh

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

Text

I love you (not) - Chapter 6

Aaaand we're back on the main fic! I am very proud to announce that I managed to fit an AU in here without it being weird (I think). It was really fun to write! Feel free to ask me more about that universe if you feel like it :) Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

---

Chapter 6: In which we change worlds but it makes sense, I promise

“Princess!”

Marinette stirred in her sleep as she heard the call and the distinct sound of curtains opening. She felt the morning’s soft light warm her face and sighed contently.

“Princess Marinette, you need to wake up! Today’s the day!” The feminine voice called again, closer, this time.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, feeling her heartbeat quicken with excitement.

“Oh Tikki, you won’t believe how well I slept!” She jumped out of her canopy bed, her white nightdress flowing in her wake as she rushed towards her handmaiden, who stared out of the window. “I really thought I wouldn’t sleep a wink, but really, the herbal tea you gave me worked wonders!"

“I’m glad to hear it! It worked well on Chat Noir, too, apparently. I ran into Plagg, his squire, in the kitchen earlier.”

“Good,” Marinette sighed with relief.

“Come on, now, we need to get you ready!” Tikki took her hand and led her to her dressing table. “How are you feeling about your engagement day?” She asked as she started brushing the princess’ hair.

“Very good. I’m very happy about the outcome of yesterday’s rounds - I know I’m not supposed to have favourites within the contestants but…” Marinette paused, hesitating to say anymore. It wasn’t a matter of trust (she’d known Tikki long enough that the two had become close friends, despite the rank difference); she was just unwilling to criticise the way things were too soon.

“You have every right to be, your Highness. The Joust of Valour explores your suitors’ ability to protect you, but there’s more to marriage than just that. It’s good that you feel comfortable with the two final contestants.” Her handmaiden smiled warmly, starting to braid her hair. “If I may, does your Highness have a soft spot for one contestant in particular? I could pass the message to the relevant people, maybe it would give him some extra luck for today…”

“I don’t, Tikki,” the young lady said firmly. It wasn’t a lie; she’d asked herself who she’d rather see emerge victorious of the tournament as she fell asleep the previous night, but she hadn’t reached a solid conclusion. It was better this way, really. Whatever the outcome, she wouldn’t be disappointed. “Anyway, you said Chat Noir was doing well?...”

Tikki repressed a smile, and told her what she knew.

---

Marinette proudly walked up to her place in the stands, her arm linked to her father’s.

For once, she would be the one sitting front and center of the Royal Balcony, relegating her parents, the King and Queen of the Croissant Kingdom, to the back of the stall with their guest. Neither King Tom or Queen Sabine seemed to mind, though; both were beaming as they waved to the crowd that had travelled for the event. Their cheers lifted the princess’ spirits so much that even the stern figure of King Gabriel of the Butterfly Kingdom failed to make her mood waver. Maybe this was what growing up felt like.

“Mesdames et Messieurs!” The voice of the announcer boomed over the ambient noise. “Welcome to the final round of the Joust of Valour! The joust will soon commence. Sparring for the heart of our beloved Princess Marinette, having victoriously arisen from all their duels, are Prince Adrien from the Butterfly Kingdom, and our local Knight Chat Noir!”

The crowd roared as the two men came forward, leading their horses.

Prince Adrien’s silver armour glistened in the sunlight, and so did his smile as his gaze met hers. Her heart skipped a beat. Her crush on him, which she’d developed during one of their first encounters as children, really hadn’t faded much over the years, despite what her friend, the Duchess Alya, had told her.

On the other hand, Chat Noir’s appearance was a lot starker. His whole armour was black, matte, the whole hint of colour being his forest green spear. There was something radiant about him, though, in the way his tousled blond hair danced in the breeze, in the way his green eyes sparkled with laughter and mischief as he approached the stands, that drew her to him. He’d been at her side for years, valiantly working with her when she’d been taken hostage by one of the Papillon’s sbires. They’d brilliantly defeated him, earning him his knighthood at the age of only fifteen, and a place in her personal guard. Despite her father’s warnings that Marinette shouldn’t meddle with the Papillon’s affairs, Chat Noir still managed to get her involved. They were a team.

“I hope I’ll be up to the challenge, dearest Marinette,” Adrien squeezed the hand she presented to him; she squeezed it back and smiled as she watched him head towards his noble steed.

“My Lady Princess,” Chat Noir bowed reverently before her, “please accept this rose as a token of my affection.” He pulled a pink rose out of seemingly thin air and presented it to her. The crowd gasped delightedly. Then, delicately taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of it with a wink; Marinette felt herself blush.

“Thank you, Chat Noir,” she barely managed to enunciate.

He bowed again, and went to ready himself.

Marinette looked at the rose, and noticed there was a piece of paper wrapped around the stem, maintained by a thorn. She made the most of everybody’s attention on the contestants to unravel it.

My dearest Lady Princess,

I’m sorry.

Love you always, CN

“Princess Marinette will now announce the beginning of the joust!” The announcer declared, startling her as she tried to understand what Chat Noir had meant by his message. She rapidly shoved it in her pocket and stood up uneasily, hoping all the eyes trained on her wouldn’t detect her fluster.

“Best of luck, gentlemen! May the best man win!”

The two horses set off towards each other, spurred on by their riders. The contestants’ spears crashed against each other’s shield, unsettling them a little. Both knights trotted to the end of the track and prepared to set off again.

The crowd oohed and aahed during the next rounds, both men barely wavering at the other’s assaults. Marinette held her breath each time, anxiously awaiting the outcome, only to let out a relieved sigh when neither fell.

Then, as the two men were about to set off again for the thirteenth time, Marinette saw Chat Noir’s helmet turn briefly towards her, and she felt her stomach drop. She didn’t need to see his face to know what was about to happen. The rose slipped out from her fingers as she realised what the note had meant.

As the knight and the prince came up to each other at full speed, Prince Adrien’s jousting spear collided violently with Chat Noir’s chest, and the latter fell to the ground with a deafening clank .

The crowd erupted in clamour as Adrien started to tour the track at a low trot, a victorious smile on his lips. Finally reaching the royal stand, he elegantly jumped off and extended a hand towards her.

“I’m truly honoured to be your future husband, your Royal Highness.”

He kissed her hand before guiding her out of the stand and helped her up to ride his horse with him. She smiled the whole time, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Those were looking for Chat Noir.

---

In the middle of the boisterous banquet, Marinette felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore. She had to get out of the hall, before her plastered smile broke, and she exposed her true feelings.

She excused herself, reassuring Prince Adrien that it must have been her prolonged time in the sun and her unusual mead consumption, and made her way to her quarters.

There, she rapidly grabbed a cloak from her trunk and sneaked out, head hung low until she’d exited the castle’s gates.

She started running. Her legs carried her as her mind raced, as her tear-ducts gave way to her tears.

She hadn’t thought the joust’s outcome would mean so much to her. She thought she’d be happy, whatever happened on the track. But as much as she’d dreamed of this match… It just didn’t feel right.

She tripped and fell to her knees, out of breath, and recognised her surroundings. The clearing had been where Chat and her had been taken hostage, and where Chat took her to practise fencing when he knew no one was looking.

A rustling sound startled her and she put her hands up defensively, although she didn’t feel like getting up.

“Hi, Princess,” Chat Noir emerged from the trees, carrying a bag. “I couldn’t find you in your room, but I figured you’d be here.”

“You had no right to sacrifice yourself like that,” she sobbed, her hands dropping to her knees.

“You know you’ll be much happier with Prince Adrien, Princess.” He smiled sadly. “You two are meant to be - you’d already be betrothed to him, were it not for the Kingdom’s Joust of Valour.”

“You don’t know what would make me happier,” she angrily wiped the tears from her eyes.

“You know I’d do anything for you, my Marinette.” He rushed to her side and cupped her cheek.

“Then run away with me.” She looked straight into his eyes.

“Why?” He whispered, his face inching closer to hers.

“Because Prince Adrien might have my hand…” She started, her breath hitching as she computed their proximity. “... But you have my heart.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she closed the distance between them and…

BIP-BIP-BIP-BIP

Marinette woke up with a start as her alarm clock started blaring. Her heart raced in her chest at the already fleeting memory of her dream. She caught her disappointment at not having witnessed the outcome, and covered her face with her hands. She felt like she was burning up.

She was so confused. The dream had been so out of place. So unexpected. What did it mean? She didn’t love Chat Noir! And she definitely didn’t want to run away with him. How absurd.

She only had a week to hold out for, she thought as she got dressed. It wouldn’t come soon enough.

She didn't know if her heart would survive another trick of her brain.

#i think i've just added a new wip to my pile rip #marichat may 2021 #marichat may #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marichat #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #day 8: princess and knight au #elle writes #love you (not)

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ibijau · 3 years

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You’re a marked man, brother, part 3 / also on AO3

Lan Xichen and his companions make their way through the Magpie King's domain, guided by their new ghost friend

warning for some mild violence and animal death (insects)

As they first advanced into the realm of the Magpie King, everyone was quiet, fearing an attack. Sangcan in particular was highly nervous, jumping and trembling at every noise he heard. A few times he made them get off the apparently empty road and walk into the surrounding woods for a little while before returning to the path. When asked, he would just explain in a pitiful voice that there were traps there.

At first, Sangcan didn't really speak much if he could help it, awed and terrified by these powerful people. He just walked near Lan Xichen, having apparently decided he was the one in charge. Or perhaps it was that since Lan Xichen had promised to try to free him, he thought it best to stay close.

Remembering that promise as well, Lan Xichen tried to make polite conversation. Asking about Sangcan's days as a living person seemed a little indelicate, especially since his life had been dark enough he'd turned to the Magpie King to hide some parts of it. So instead, Lan Xichen asked about Sangcan's current existence, and tried to get more details about his master's domain.

On that subject, Sangcan admitted his knowledge was a little spotty.

"I've not worked in the palace, see?" he explained. "Nobody does, really, it's just him. The rest of us, we patrol around or take care of the little ones." Sangcan shivered. "I like mine well enough, but there's some I wouldn't want to be in charge of, eh?"

"Little ones?" Lan Xichen asked.

Sangcan nodded and glanced around before discreetly pointing first at the canopy above them, then at the ground under them.

"They're everywhere," he explained, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That's how he makes his business, right? My little ones aren't so bad, but some others are really… wait, stop !"

Lan Xichen immediately obeyed and stopped walking, but it was too late.

While they were chatting, Wei Wuxian had come near them, curious to learn more about his fellow Devastation and perhaps wanting to steal some ideas for his own domain. When Sangcan suddenly ordered them to stop, Wei Wuxian was caught by surprise and accidentally stumbled forward, taking two more steps. Sangcan cried out, before pressing both hands against his mouth to silence himself.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Wei Wuxian turned to look at Sangcan, tilting his head curiously. Just as he was about to ask what the matter was, he suddenly cried in pain and brutally slapped his own arm. He rose his hand to the level of his face to inspect it, and grimaced. Again he seemed about to ask Sangcan about that, but before he could speak he had to slap away something else, on his shoulder this time, then his hip, his arm again, while something dark started covering his body. The darkness only receded when Lan Wangji threw a few talismans at his husband, causing a mass of little black dots to fall to the ground.

“Mosquitoes?” Wei Wuxian asked, stomping on them.

“Some are escaping, don’t let them!” Sangcan cried. “They’ll report to the king!”

Indeed, now that they knew what to look for, there was a whole swarm of mosquitoes on the path. A huge number of them lunged at Sangcan, as if guessing that he was a traitor and might lead these intruders to the Magpie King if he wasn’t stopped. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji threw more talismans at them, though ultimately it was Wei Wuxian who took them down. After the initial surprise, he bit his thumb to draw blood and did something which made all the bugs drop to the floor, even those that were trying to leave and against which Jin Guangyao was using his fan.

They all stared at Wei Wuxian, shocked by the ease with which he’d done this. Sangcan was perhaps the most impressed of them all, having been so afraid he’d be denounced to his master.

“So I guess that’s how the Magpie King learns so many secrets?” Wei Wuxian guessed, stomping again on the piles of dead bugs. “I’d assumed he used birds, with his nickname and all.”

“It started with magpies,” Sangcan confirmed. “And that’s what my little ones are. But bugs get into all sorts of places, right? So the King branched out into all sorts of vermines as his power grew.”

“But he kept the old title anyway,” Wei Wuxian mocked. “I guess the Mosquito King doesn’t sound as good, and he’s a little vain, isn’t he?” Before Sangcan could reply, Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Wangji, his expression quickly going from haughty to pitiful as he showed his bloody thumb to his husband. “Lan Zhan, I’m hurt! Look how hurt I am! And they bit me too!”

Much to his brother’s embarrassment, Lan Wangji let out a small noise of concern and started fussing over Wei Wuxian as earnestly as if he weren’t a very powerful and likely dangerous ghost king capable of surviving nearly anything. Unwilling to look any longer, Lan Xichen went to check on his own husband, in a more calm and composed manner.

“I think I’m getting the hang of those,” Jin Guangyao said, inspecting the fan in his hand. “But I wish I’d gotten one with fire power, it might have been more useful than wind after all.” He glanced toward Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, still lost in the world, and grimaced. “That Yiling Patriarch is something, isn’t he? If he decides to side with the Magpie King…”

“He won’t,” Lan Xichen said firmly. “Not unless he decides Nie Mingjue has done some evil to deserve the Magpie King’s ire, and of course he hasn’t, so there’s nothing to fear.”

Jin Guangyao looked rather unconvinced. In truth, Lan Xichen wasn’t too sure either what Wei Wuxian would do, but it was a risk he had to take. Nie Mingjue had done no wrong, and Wei Wuxian seemed like a man of his word, if nothing else.

Having made sure his husband was fine, Lan Xichen decided to check on the last member of their party. Poor Sangcan was a rather weak ghost by the look of things, and those mosquitoes had attacked him quite viciously. His already plain face was now covered in huge bite marks, and he seemed quite miserable as he watched Lan Wangji rub a soothing balm on Wei Wuxian’s skin.

“I have some as well,” Lan Xichen offered, taking a pot out of his sleeve. “Please help yourself. Are you much hurt?”

Sangcan gratefully took the balm, and started applying it on himself until his whole face was shiny with it.

“I’m quite fine, my lord. I don’t deal much with the bugs usually, but sometimes they escape their handlers and bother everyone, so I’ve been bitten before. The mosquitoes are fine anyway. It’s the flies you’ve got to look for, there’s some very vicious ones. The ones here are carnivores, you know!”

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Lan Xichen promised. “Between the four of us, I think we can handle some flies.”

Sangcan shrugged, and handed him back his pot of balm. With this taken care of they resumed walking, though Sangcan warned them they would soon have to completely leave the road, since it didn’t actually lead anywhere. Past a certain point it just went in circle, and anyone who didn’t know about it would be trapped on that portion until they died. Sangcan, again, walked next to Lan Xichen, but was far quieter than before. Lan Xichen thought it was because he didn’t want to miss the sign that they ought to leave the road and remained quiet as well, but suddenly Sangcan grabbed his sleeve between two fingers and pulled lightly to get his attention, a very serious look on his face.

“My lord, if that’s not too bold… you’re very nice and kind of not bad looking,” Sangcan said, giving Lan Xichen an appraising look. “And I’ve been thinking. Well, my mother always used to say I was the prettiest man she’d ever seen. And you know, looking at those two…” he gestured at Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, walking too close and chatting in hushed voices. “I’m thinking if I get a powerful lover, then it doesn’t matter if I can break that contract or not, because I’ll have someone to protect me, right?”

“I’m already married,” Lan Xichen replied.

“I won’t tell your husband if you don’t either!” Sangcan insisted with a wink.

“His husband is right here,” Jin Guangyao remarked, looking very calm in that way which Lan Xichen knew to mean he was quite aggravated.

Sangcan startled at the news, his eyes jumping between the two of them.

“You two sure don’t look married,” he commented. “But in that case, I guess I don’t mind having you both? Or if you’ve been married a while and think of going your separate ways…”

He winked again, and Lan Xichen had to suppress a laugh. It was hardly the first time someone tried to hit on either of them, though this was definitely the worst attempt he’d ever witnessed… and Sangcan’s face, still bumpy with bite marks and shiny from the balm, really didn’t help.

“We’re not ever going to separate,” he announced, “and neither are we interested in spicing things up, before you try that. A-Yao and I are fated.”

To prove it, he cast a small spell which revealed the thin, bright red thread running from his hand to Jin Guangyao's. It was a useful trick to deal with unwanted flirting, one he’d learned shortly after ascending. At the time, he had hoped the thread might lead him to A-Sang’s spirit. Instead, he’d discovered that the person fated to share his life was actually Jin Guangyao, who Nie Mingjue had just brought to the Middle Court.

To his mild shame, he’d originally been disappointed by that discovery, though of course he’d gotten over that with a little time, and now would not have changed what he had for anything in the world. Jin Guangyao and him weren't as obnoxious or open about their feelings as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, but they had a good, steady companionship.

“Oh, that’s a fun trick!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, jumping closer to look at the thread. “Can you check other people too?”

Lan Xichen hesitated, but nodded and cast the spell on Wei Wuxian. To his consternation, this made it appear that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were, in fact, linked by a thread of their own. If Lan Xichen had had any hopes that his brother might return to his senses, this killed them. Nothing could come between a pair of soulmates.

Wei Wuxian grinned and threw himself at Lan Wangji’s neck who smiled at him, the pair of them looking happy beyond words. Lan Xichen sighed. He’d have to reconcile himself with this, especially if it really made Lan Wangji so happy.

“Can you do me too?” Sangcan asked in a high voice as he presented his hand to Lan Xichen. “I've got to know… "

There was something almost desperate to his expression, so Lan Xichen promptly complied. They all gasped at the result.

“Because he’s dead?” Lan Wangji asked, turning a little pale at the sight.

“But I’m dead too and it’s not like this,” Wei Wuxian remarked, glancing at the thread that linked them.

Lan Xichen said nothing, fascinated and horrified at once by the torn off thread hanging from Sangcan’s hand, its extremity frayed and ugly. In the centuries during which he’d used that little spell, Lan Xichen had never once seen a thread like that one. Either there was a link, or there wasn’t.

Sangcan looked pitifully at the thread, lifting his hand to better look at the torn end, but out of all of them he was the least surprised one.

“Is this something the Magpie King did to you?” Lan Xichen asked. “Or is this the secret you sold him? Did you do something to your soulmate?”

Sangcan opened his mouth, looking utterly scandalised at the suggestion, but no sound came out. He tried again a few times, only to end up looking like a miserable fish.

"Fine, it wasn't you," Wei Wuxian guessed, and immediately Sangcan calmed down. "But something happened. Someone did this to you, and your curse is linked to that."

This time, Sangcan did not even try to speak. He just looked at Wei Wuxian, his eyes shining as if he might start crying. Feeling sorry for him, Lan Xichen lifted the spell on all of them so at least Sangcan wouldn't have to see this proof of what he had lost. He wanted to offer some words of comfort to the ghost, while Wei Wuxian looked ready to interrogate him.

Neither of them had the chance to say anything.

Just as Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to ask more questions, a loud humming sound started coming from above them, and Sangcan cried out in fear before hiding behind Lan Xichen. With the mosquitoes still in mind, they all braced themselves for another attack. As the noise grew closer though, Lan Xichen wondered what sort of insect might make a buzzing sound so loud he could nearly feel the vibrations reverberating inside his body.

“Zewu-Jun, behind you!” Wei Wuxian cried out.

Lan Xichen twirled around, Shuoyue in hand, and sliced in half a creature flying toward him at great speed. Before he could get a good look at it, another had launched itself at Sangcan, landing heavily on his shoulder and biting down on his neck. Without losing a moment, Lan Xichen dispatched that creature as well. He shivered in disgust when he realised the things attacking them with time were huge flies, nearly as large as cats.

That certainly explained why Sangcan had seemed so terrified when he’d explained the flies in Xinglu Ridge were carnivores.

Still, no matter the size, no matter the diet, those fifty or so flies that attacked them just couldn’t measure up to two martial gods and a ghost king. In fact, they were weak enough that even Jin Guangyao managed to take down a few of them without trouble. Aside from Sangcan, no one at all was hurt.

But of course it was concerning that the weakest member of their group was the one who suffered the most once again. Lan Xichen felt again that Sangcan had to have been targeted, and he decided it would not happen again. He had promised the ghost that he would be protected, and he intended to keep his word.

For now though, Sangcan’s wound had to be looked at. Lan Xichen was the closest one to him, but the pot of balm he’d brought had been almost entirely depleted earlier, so Lan Wangji came to offer his own.

“It hurts so bad!” Sangcan wailed while Lan Xichen applied some balm on the ugly bite. “Ow! My lord, please be more gentle! Ah, it hurts so bad, it’s awful! Ow, Ow!”

Lan Xichen, already as gentle as he could be, half smiled at those complaints and continued working, trying to make his movements lighter still. Lan Wangji looked at the proceedings, with a bored expression. It surprised Lan Xichen at first that his brother wasn’t with that husband of his, but a glance to the side informed him that Wei Wuxian was currently studying the giant flies' insides, something that would definitely upset Lan Wangji’s sensibilities.

“There is a mark,” Lan Wangji suddenly said, coming closer.

Lan Xichen didn’t understand at first, until his brother pointed at Sangcan’s throat. It was very faint, but there was a thin, clean white line going all around the ghost’s neck. Without thinking Lan Xichen brushed his thumb against that mark. Sangcan shivered and let out a low moan, one that sounded far more sincere than all of his earlier whining.

“You were beheaded?” Lan Wangji asked.

Sangcan, so vocal a moment ago, fell silent and looked down at his feet. In this case, the absence of an answer was an answer of its own. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji exchanged a glance.

“Were you executed?” Lan Xichen asked.

Although he didn’t manage to speak, Sangcan was able to shake his head.

“Murdered then?” Lan Xichen insisted.

Sangcan didn’t react in any way, and Lan Xichen again looked at his brother. The mark was very clean, meaning there had been only one blow, from a very sharp weapon. Being both martial gods, they knew beheading were rarely so clean, especially among mortals. It took a very strong blade to cut through bone and muscles that way.

Formal executions were rarely performed in a single blow, unless the executioner was particularly skilled. In the course of war, beheading just wasn’t a very efficient move when there were quicker ways to kill a person, so Lan Xichen hadn’t even bothered asking about that possibility.

The last possibility then was murder, and even more than the other two, it would justify a soul turning into a ghost. Sangcan was, by the look of it, a bit of a fool and a coward, but even he might have been enraged after being murdered.

Wei Wuxian, still poking at the corpse of a giant fly nearby, spoke up.

"Maybe he sold the secret of his murder so he could be avenged," he suggested. "Is that what you wanted? Revenge?"

Sangcan appeared conflicted. He didn't say anything, which hinted Wei Wuxian wasn't wrong, but he also pinched his lips and crossed his arms, as if the conclusion that had been reached didn't please him.

"Let's drop this matter," Sangcan grumbled at last, finding his voice again. "My lords, I think it's time to leave the road. It's more dangerous from this point on. If you get lost… well, it's bad. Some people say the Magpie King turned this place in a maze so twisted even he could get trapped!"

"Is that so?" Wei Wuxian sneered, abandoning his study of the giant fly. "Sounds like he's not so smart as people say then."

"If he were, would he need to hire others to take care of his business?" Sangcan retorted. "I'm just saying, some people have a great reputation, but if you dig a little then you find it's all shit under the surface. I mean, it's like that among ghosts for sure. And among gods?"

He asked that question to Jin Guangyao who appeared startled.

"You're one of those paperwork gods, right?" Sangcan insisted. "I've seen your temples once or twice. And paperwork gods, well, they're just like the Magpie King but on the other side of things, right? So I bet you know plenty of secrets too, and you'd be the right person to know if all heavenly reputations are deserved!"

Lan Xichen looked at his husband in concern, only to find Jin Guangyao smiling his most empty smile.

Aside from his normal duties of answering his followers' prayers, Jin Guangyao had risen to a certain fame in the heavenly court as a spymaster of sorts. He was the one in charge of keeping track of gossip, checking if there was any truth to them, and making sure the Jade Emperor knew what he needed to know. As far as jobs went it wasn't a very respectable one, and Jin Guangyao wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up in that position in the first place. In fact he'd asked a few times to be relieved of his duties, especially since Nie Mingjue disapproved of such things, but the emperor had kept him where he was. After all, his efficiency couldn't be denied.

Still the comparison to the Magpie King had to hit a little too close to home, even if Sangcan couldn't have known that.

"There will always be people who aren't what they seem," Jin Guangyao said at last, his voice hitting that specific tone he only used when upset. "But in the heavenly court, such things are rare. Secrets never last very long, and anyone who tries to cheat their way up will be caught and put in their place."

Wei Wuxian snickered upon hearing this, but Jin Guangyao paid him no mind. They were all getting used to him finding amusement in things that weren't funny in the least. As for Sangcan, he nodded eagerly.

"You're right my lord, you've got to be right! Justice must prevail, and secrets must be uncovered!"

Just like this, the sad mood that had come from discussing his manner of death was lifted, and Sangcan returned to normal. He insisted again on the need to leave the road behind, and took them into the forest where they all followed closely, heeding his warnings about getting lost.

"He's really quite the character, that guide of ours," Jin Guangyao remarked to his husband, careful to keep his voice low.

"I think he likes you. You might have gained another follower, A-Yao."

"I prefer my followers smarter than that. Though enthusiasm has its merits as well, I suppose."

"He seems a decent enough person," Lan Xichen protested. "He has good taste in men, surely a point in his favour."

Jin Guangyao wrinkled his nose. "If you must betray me, please at least do it with someone prettier."

A little ahead of them, a branch creaked, the sound resonating in the quiet of the night. Sangcan, who had stepped on it, nearly lost his balance out of surprise. He turned around and glared at the others, especially at Lan Xichen.

"My lords, please don't talk too much," Sangcan asked in a stern tone. "It is not safe here. Even if they don't attack, the King's little friends hear everything."

Lan Xichen flushed, wondering if Sangcan had heard the details of their banter. He didn't look upset, but his steps were less light than before. In fact, up until then, Sangcan hadn't made any sound while walking, and though he was still less noisy than the rest of them, that there was noise at all showed some temper on his part. Lan Xichen worried his husband and him might have accidentally antagonised their guide just when they needed him the most.

After a while though, Sangcan appeared to regain control of himself. His steps turned light and silent once more, making it a little hard to follow him in the darkness of the forest. It hadn’t been a problem on the road, but now Lan Xichen was truly concerned about losing sight of the ghost. To avoid that, he abandoned Jin Guangyao and caught up to Sangcan, silently walking by his side. No matter how well trained he was in martial arts, Lan Xichen couldn’t make himself entirely silent the way Sangcan seemed capable of, so even without seeing anything the other three would still be able to follow them. Sangcan didn't appear to mind his proximity, but didn't particularly acknowledge him either.

They walked for many hours, until the sky above them started turning lighter with the first hints of a dawn soon to come. Once or twice, Sangcan stopped in his tracks, motioning for them to be silent, and they heard loud buzzing noises passing by. More giant insects by the sound of it. Even though they weren’t attacked again, Sangcan seemed more and more worried as time passed, as if fearing the confrontation with his master now that they were getting closer. Lan Xichen wanted to comfort him again, and to remind him that they wouldn’t let any harm come to him if they could help it, but since Sangcan had ordered silence, he obeyed. He could not take the risk of ruining their rescue of Nie Mingjue.

At last, the sun rose, colouring the forest around them. Although it must have been a beautiful place, especially bathed this way in golden light, Lan Xichen only felt growing anxiety at this proof that too much time had passed without them seeing any trace of Nie Mingjue. If he had been captured, or worse…

Just as he thought this, Lan Xichen tensed and glanced at his brother, only to find Lan Wangji also looking at him. Without a word, they both stepped closer to their husband, Lan Xichen dragging Sangcan as well behind him before unsheathing his sword. Lan Wangji did the same, waiting for something to come.

At first it was nothing but a presence, the vague sensation of something dark and powerful coming their way. Then, somewhere above the canopy, a faint fluttering of wings. Wei Wuxian appeared more intrigued than anything, but Jin Gyangyao nervously took out his fan and prepared to defend himself if need be.

The flapping sound came closer. Catching a glimpse of dark wings, Jin Guangyao moved to attack and send a powerful gust of wind against whatever was above them. Before he could though, Sangcan cried out loudly, giving the things a warning, and grabbed both of Jin Guangyao’s wrist with great strength. Jin Guangyao, startled, made a wrong movement and his fan was pushed against the edge of Lan Xichen’s sword, splitting it in two.

“What have you done?” Jin Guangyao hissed. “That was a present from da-ge, he’ll be furious!”

“Don’t you dare hurt them!” Sangcan snarled in response, rushing forward to meet a pair of birds, offering them his arms to land on.

“Aren’t they going to report to the Magpie King?” Jin Guangyao asked. Sangcan didn’t grace him with an answer. All his attention was on that pair of magpies who had hopped on his shoulders to play with his hair, while he scratched their necks.

“Hello, hello, I missed you too,” Sangcan cooed to the birds, his voice soft and warm. “Are you fine? Do you have enough to eat? Good, I’m glad. Do you bring news?”

The pair of birds started cackling excitedly at him, appearing to speak over one another. A few times they let out more strident sounds, while Sangcan nodded seriously to all of it.

“Good boys, good boys, let me see if I have something for you,” the ghost said when they were done, digging into his sleeve until he found a small pouch. From there he took a handful of various bugs, some of which seemed alive. The pair of birds eagerly ate from his hand, while Sangcan smiled tenderly at them.

Lan Xichen stared.

Something about this felt familiar. It was something he hadn’t thought of in many years, because he’d been too busy, because he hadn’t wanted to think about it, but his friend A-Sang used to love birds. He’d feed wild ones until they became used to him, and had an entire aviary even though his family didn’t approve. He often handfed them, no matter the diet, just because he wanted to take care of his little friends.

He always looked so happy with them, enough so that Lan Xichen would joke about being jealous. He could nearly remember A-Sang’s delighted face, could almost recall his smile that shone like the sun, the same way Sangcan’s did as he fed those magpies, and for a second Lan Xichen wondered…

But it was impossible. A-Sang had been young when he’d died, not quite twenty, and he’d been a very handsome man, even if Lan Xichen could hardly remember his exact features after so long. There was no way that Sangcan, plain and middle aged, could be the same person. A more powerful ghost might have managed to change shape, but Sangcan was a very weak one, barely strong enough to have a physical shape at all.

The only reason Lan Xichen could find any resemblance between the two was because Sangcan had been on his mind since his visit to the Burial Mounds. It annoyed him mildly, especially since Jin Guangyao was right there.

Wanting to distract himself from unnecessary nostalgia, Lan Xichen walked closer to Sangcan and his birds.

“Those are beautiful,” he said. “Are you their handler then?”

Sangcan jumped slightly at being approached, to which the birds complained. He threw Lan Xichen a suspicious side look before nodding slowly.

“They're my little ones,” he confirmed. “I haven’t seen them since being sent to guard the entrance, and they were missing me. So they escaped, and brought me news as a gift. That martial god, the one who broke in yesterday, your rude friend… He’s made it to the Unclean Realm. That’s the Magpie King’s palace,” Sangcan added as an explanation.

“Your boss sucks at names,” Wei Wuxian said, joining them. “Who’d want to live in a place like that?”

Sangcan shrugged slightly, careful not to jolt his little feathery friends around.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know! I’m not close to him, am I? I’ve heard some people say it’s just the old name of a place where he used to live, but I don’t know. Even we don’t know much about him, and we work for him. Maybe he just thought it was funny. Hey, do you know why it’s called that?” Sangcan asked one of the birds, which cackled in answer. Whatever it said, Sangcan didn't find it worth translating.

Lan Xichen had to close his eyes for a second. He felt a little faint because that name was…

Just as A-Sang had loved birds, he’d had a taste for history as well. He liked to read about it, curious as a cat on topics he enjoyed, and loved sharing what he learned with those few people close to him. And so Lan Xichen could just remember A-Sang explaining one day that once upon a time, the place he lived in used to be called the Unclean Realm, though the name had fallen in disuse over time. It had so pleased him to have discovered this useless little bit of trivia, and so Lan Xichen too had been happy, as he so often was in his company.

But A-Sang couldn’t be the Magpie King. The idea was even more ridiculous than being Sangcan. A-Sang had been sweet and innocent, a little mischievous certainly but never cruel the way the Magpie King could be, and certainly not resentful enough to turn into a ghost king. It would have taken more than a murder, however randomly violent, to turn such a lovely young man into a creature like the Magpie King, so Lan Xichen refused to even consider it. He just had A-Sang on his mind too much, and it was getting ridiculous.

Wanting to distract himself, yet also still plagued by memories of a boy long dead, Lan Xichen thoughtlessly tried to pet the birds, remembering how A-Sang always encouraged him to do so with his own pets.

The tip of Lan Xichen's fingers barely brushed against those feathers, yet it was enough to make him flinch away. The dark presence Lan Xichen had felt earlier had truly come from those birds, and it turned out they were so steeped in resentful energy it could harm even a god. From where they stood Lan Wangji and Jin Guangyao couldn't see it happen, but Wei Wuxian noticed, as did Sangcan who chuckled uncomfortably while scratching under the bird's chin.

"Did that lord scare you, my friend?" he asked the bird, getting a grumpy sounding high sound in return. Sangcan turned to Lan Xichen with an apologetic smile. "My lord, please don't be mad at them! But of course, those aren't ordinary birds. They are the Magpie King's oldest allies, you know. Even before he became a ghost king, these two were with him, so you'll understand they are picky with who can touch them."

As if agreeing, the two magpies cackled in unison and threw Lan Xichen a disdainful glare.

"Well, it's time for you to leave anyway," Sangcan told the birds. "We don't want your absence to be noticed, eh? I'll see you later maybe, if this doesn’t kill me. Go on! Shoo!" he ordered the unimpressed birds. "Ah, I'm always saying you're such good boys, and now you're making me lie!"

Since he sounded so miserable, the magpies pecked a last time at his hair and took flight. They all watched them go, all feeling different emotions about that encounter.

“Should we be letting them go this easily?” Jin Guangyao asked. “Aren’t you worried they might reveal our presence to their king?”

“Oh, no, they like me too much to betray me,” Sangcan proudly replied. “I always sneak them treats, so they’re good boys to me.”

“Boys… so they’re not a bonded pair?” Jin Guangyao asked, still staring in the direction where the birds had disappeared.

“Birds can have the same tastes as humans, my lord,” Sangcan informed him. “There’s some males that won’t ever touch a female. Aren’t all of you lords like that as well, all married to one anothers and the like? But anyway… you’re right actually, they’re not a bonded pair. They’re brothers, as it happens, which is even neater than just mates, isn’t it?”

Jin Guangyao looked unimpressed by that reveal, while the Lan brothers both nodded in agreement. As for Wei Wuxian, some complicated emotions flashed on his face, as if the topic of siblings were an unpleasant one for him.

“Can’t imagine being stuck with a relative of mine for centuries and having to work with him,” Wei Wuxian muttered, before grinning at his husband. “No offence, Lan Zhan. At least, your brother seems easy to get along with. More than I could have said of…” He stopped with a sigh, and turned again to Sangcan. “And do you have relatives? Hm? A brother of your own, perhaps?”

Sangcan didn’t reply, his lips pinched tight. He stared at Wei Wuxian with surprising intensity, as if trying to figure out something about the ghost king. Whether he found what he was looking for or not, Sangcan suddenly started walking again.

“Let’s go, my lords,” he ordered. “Your friend might need help if he’s reached the Unclean Realm. It’s not a good place, not in the least, so let’s not lose any more time, hm? Not that it’s very far by now...”

Because his steps were making noise again, Lan Xichen guessed that either the question about his family or the encounter with those magpies had gotten Sangcan upset again. At some other time he might have asked, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that ultimately, it was nothing to be concerned about. He couldn’t have explained it. Lan Xichen just knew that Sangcan had no malicious intentions, that he just wanted to do what he’d promised, get his curse lifted, and then just go on with his non-life in peace. It made little sense, but Lan Xichen had been alive long enough that he felt he’d gotten at least somewhat good at guessing if people were dangerous or not.

Sangcan was no threat to himself, just as Wei Wuxian, however odd and possibly dangerous to others, just didn’t strike him as a person who would ever purposefully try to harm Lan Wangji.

So Lan Xichen left Sangcan to his emotions, and tried to calm his own unquiet heart. If Nie Mingjue had already arrived to that Unclean Realm, if he had already confronted the Magpie King… there was a very real chance that things would go badly. In fact, it was almost certain at that point that they wouldn’t be able to avoid a fight.

Lan Xichen couldn’t refrain a sigh. It was exactly what he didn’t want to see happen. Still, he hoped that the Magpie King, like Wei Wuxian, wasn’t all that his reputation made him to be, that there would be a way to negotiate with him.

While Lan Xichen mused on every option that might be available to them, the Unclean Realm appeared before them quite suddenly.

One moment they were walking in the dense forest covering Xinglu Ridge, the next they were in a vast clearing in the middle of which stood an ancient looking home, which had the air of an antique temple reconverted into a habitation. Lan Xichen gasped as he recognised it, while Jin Guangyao let out a weak cry of fear and grabbed his husband’s hand so tight it Lan Xichen thought he might break a bone.

“Is something wrong?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Lan Xichen silently nodded, staring at that building he’d never thought he’d see again. Next to him, Jin Guangyao was trying to pull him away from the Unclean Realm, growing more obviously worried with each passing moment. Not without reason, of course. Last time Jin Guangyao had been in there, he’d become the sole survivor of a terrible slaughter, an event so traumatic he refused to talk about it to that day. Because this place was…

“This is Nie Mingjue’s house when he was mortal,” Lan Xichen whispered. “And it was destroyed centuries ago.”

#xisang #wangxian #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #marked man au

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op-peccatori · 4 years

Text

per sempre tuo (M) | IkeVamp Leonardo

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Leonardo da Vinci/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+/NSFW

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Your lover has many different sides, and you adore every single one of them.

per sempre tuo: forever yours

a/n: Finally. This is just some unnecessarily long fluffy smut to cope with finishing his route. Yes, I did listen to Italian music for this and yes, I did cry at some of the lyrics. I recommend the first 2 (A Te and Magnolia) if you wanna give it a listen~ AND, for Thirst Purposes, I’ve installed a reading nook in Leonardo’s room.

I had a tough time with the title, trying to pick which was more appropriate, per sempre tuo or tuo per sempre, but I went with the former...

(warnings/tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, no plot, extreme cheesiness, some minor spoilers for Leo’s route

You’re not sure what wakes you–the gentle thrum of the rain outside the windows, or the familiar, sweet scent wafting over to you.

Slipping out from underneath the comforting mantle of slumber, you shiver and curl up sleepily.

Or maybe it was the cold, the hint of autumn chill brushing warm skin as you turn over with a groan to find your usual bedmate missing. With a quick search of the disorderly room, you blink at the way your head throbs and squint at Leonardo. He’s curled up in his little reading nook, with the window cracked open, and you watch as he–cigarillo held between sanguine smudged fingers–sucks in a mouthful of smoke. It spills from his lips in slow, curling wisps after a few seconds.

Further inspection reveals a notebook resting on his lap, an unbuttoned shirt, and chestnut strands pulled back into a short, messy ponytail that does unfair things to your libido. You don’t sit up just yet, content to let your eyes run over him as you try to recall the events of last night.

Dinner had, as always, been a warm, chaotic affair. You remember being unable–and unwilling because it had been a while since you had indulged–to turn down Comte’s offer of wine. You remember the slow buzz creeping through your veins as you laughed at Arthur and Theo’s bickering, the droopy look on Sebastian’s face as it snuck up on him too, and the endearing flush on Isaac’s cheeks, unsure if it was wine-induced or if it was the result of Dazai’s teasing.

A flush fills your own cheeks as you remember Leonardo’s warm gaze and soft lips, telling you to have fun as he left to have a quick chat with his old friend.

You remember accepting another glassful of the beverage, and you remember Sebas walking you to your room–which doesn’t explain why you’re in Leonardo’s bed instead of your own. It’s a bit like staring into murky water, trying to identify what lurks beneath the surface, and it slipping away just when you’re on the verge of discovery.

You refocus on his still figure.

Leonardo is, at his core, a man of action. With an eager mind, hands that itch to reach for something or the other–a book, drawing tools, things to repair, and ever since you came into his life, you.

Jack of all trades, master of nearly all.

Watching him at any time is fascinating; it’s hard to take your eyes off of him, you’re always eager to watch him in motion. And then there are the times where he’s quiet.

You hadn’t realized it at first, but it’s clearer right now as you observe him silently. He’s more subdued when it rains. It had been different when the two of you had been caught out in that sudden shower, but even now, the restlessness seems to have withdrawn, leaving placidity in its wake.

He loves his naps, but the way he’s curled up next to the window, listless, eyes unfocused–he looks almost lonely.

“Buongiorno.” Your startled gaze meets his, the cool gold of his eyes heating as they catch you staring. He turns his head to face you, his upturned mouth and the little crinkles in the corner of his eyes sending warmth fluttering through you even from across the room. “Slept well?”

“Mm, I think so.” A yawn catches you off guard, quickly covered up by the back of your hand. You stretch languidly, feeling your muscles release, before you sit up, reaching for the top of your head to pat down flyaways. Your dress from the previous day is draped over the back of a chair, prompting a quick startled glance down at your body. You’re in one of Leonardo’s shirts; with a grateful sigh, you reach for the glass of water he somehow managed to make space for on his crowded bedside table. “I feel like I did.”

With the way he perks up, you wonder if he’s been waiting for you to wake up and play with him. The thought amuses you for a moment; sometimes, he really does act like a cat. You meet his eyes again, and he looks curious, putting out his cigarillo in a little ashtray on the windowsill. He’s always curious about what’s going through your head.

“I hope you do. You were out cold,” Leonardo replies after a moment’s pause, before something sly crawls into his tone, the mischief glittering in his eyes putting you on guard. “I’d say you slept like the dead, but your snoring could’ve actually woken them up instead.”

You barely avoid choking on the cool drink, gulping down a mouthful of it as you glare at him as dangerously as you can. It only serves to widen his smile.

“Lies.”

“Nope. It was cute, though. I like it when you snore.”

“When I-how often do I do it?” Your voice is shriller than you would like, and he, being the infuriating man that he is, starts laughing.

“No need to get so worked up, cara mia,” he soothes, closing his notebook and placing it on a shelf behind him. He reaches for a damp cloth, wiping his hands clean, and closes the window. “Come here, you look cold over there.” He looks colder.

“I am cold,” you mumble, embarrassment still hot on your skin, but you can’t resist his beckoning fingers and climb out of bed quickly, the hem of his shirt falling to the middle of your bare thighs. Picking your way across the room as deftly as you can, a low hiss escapes you as you end up stepping on what looks like a puzzle piece.

He reaches for you with a sheepish smile, gathering you up in his arms before settling back against the wall, reaching down to rub the sole of your foot tenderly.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, his calm voice warm, raspy gravel, reaching down to the very depths of you; wrapped up in his embrace, his heat seeping through the layers of cloth between your skin, you can’t help but melt into him with a soft hum. With your head cradled against his chest, you peer out the window. The skies are a solemn grey, but the flowers are there to make up for it, looking brighter in the light shower as they reach toward the heavy clouds.

You mull over his words for a moment, worry filling your heart, pressing your lips to the side of his neck before tilting your head back to look at him. “Is that why you were awake? You couldn’t sleep because of me?”

At your words, he looks close to laughter, the corners of his lips quirked, but he fails miserably and presses it to your scrunched up brow. “I’ve slept through a lot worse, so no.”

You study his expression for a moment longer, gauging the sincerity in his eyes, before you nod. Wondering what kind of stories are behind those soft words. “Oh. Also, did I pass out at the dining table? Because I don’t remember getting back to your room…”

“No, you didn’t. Last I saw you there, you were wide awake, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh that loudly. But by the time I got back, you’d already gone up to your room. ” Confusion creeps in, and Leonardo chases it away with a swift peck to your scrunched nose. “We should get you drunk more often.”

You think back to dinner, and while it’s all a bit blurry you do remember having fun.

“So, I didn’t do anything embarrassing?” His fingers skim down your arm to tangle with your fingers, bringing them up so he can press his lips to the back of your hand.

“Hmm. I think we have different opinions on what makes something ‘embarrassing’.” You stare at him until he grins again, sudden and wicked. “Don’t you remember singing for us?”

You resist the urge to jump out the window. “Oh no.”

“It was lovely,” he insists, chuckling when you swat him.

“I can barely sing when I’m sober, and my drunken version has been likened to the screeching of a cat.”

“I don’t agree at all. I enjoyed it quite a bit.”

“Of course you enjoyed it.” Feeling quite faint from the force of your despair, you attempt to escape his hold only for him to tighten it, pressing you back into him. You pull, he pushes. He pulls, you push. Your brief tussle ends with you sitting back against his chest, curled up between his legs, and a shiver running up your spine when you feel his lips on your neck.

“I did. Let’s see–I loved how free you looked, the way your hair escaped your neat little braid, the way you throw your head back when your laughter seizes you. The way you smiled at me, with your flushed cheeks and smiling eyes, reaching for me as if you never wish to be parted from me again. I loved it all.” His breath falls hotly on your skin and you’re frozen in his embrace, your heart holding onto every word that rolls off his silver tongue. “There was just one little problem.”

Your first attempt to speak dies in your throat. You wet your lips and try again, eyes sliding shut as he presses a burning, open-mouthed kiss beneath your jaw. “What was it?”

Leonardo hums, lips forging a path up to your ear. “I wasn’t the only one to see all of that.”

Fingers trace the jut of your collarbone, slow and inquisitive, as you work through the implications of his words. “I doubt anyone would see it the way you do.”

“In this, cuore mio, you’re completely wrong. Not only do they see what I do, they covet. They envy. I don’t blame them for it, you’re a blessing one can only dream to have, but it still…”

“But still?”

He nips at the shell of your ear, hand smoothing across your abdomen, and your breath grows heavy.

“It makes a part of me want to hide you away, away from their longing eyes. I would never do that, but a man still feels the need to stake his claim, yeah?” His hand dips under your shirt, tracing incomprehensible patterns on your skin, the calloused pads of his fingers skimming the skin beneath your breasts. “The entire time I was speaking with ‘Comte’ I was thinking of what beautiful side of you would be revealed next.”

Your next words are carried on a breathless whisper.

“What did you do?” And you feel the way his lips, pressed to your temple, curl up. “What happened after that?”

“Heh. Nothing.” He bites at the plump flesh of your cheek, light and playful even as his hand drifts up to cup one breast. Something is lodged in your throat and it feels like it might be your heart. “You did all the work for me.”

It must’ve been something embarrassing, because you know the way he tugs at a nipple, rolling it between nimble fingers, is more of a distraction. The knowledge doesn’t stop your stomach from clenching with anticipation. “What did I do?”

“Nothing as bad as you’re imagining. I went looking for you, you see,” Leonardo licks up the length of your neck, kissing his way across your skin. Your fingers dig into the firm flesh of his thigh, holding onto the cloth as he sucks red, blooming marks. “But you weren’t in your room. Gave me quite a fright. I found you soon enough, though; stumbling through the halls, trying to find your way to your darling Leo’s room.”

“I don’t remember that at all…”

His other hand cups your sex, heel pressing in with purpose as your head tips back, lips parting. “Don’t think anybody’s ever been that happy to see me. It was quite a kiss. Did I mention I had a few of the others looking for you too?”

Leonardo’s palm slips further down, caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh, his cheek brushing yours when you try to look at him. He helps you turn around, leaving you kneeling between his legs, his fingers brushing your cheeks before he cups them and pulls you into a sweet kiss. The taste of his thin cigar spills rich on your tongue, the proof of his arousal brushing against your knee, but he seems content to just kiss you, tongue curling around yours, making a satisfied little sound low in his throat.

Desire burns low in your belly and you pull away with a gasp, forehead dipping to press against his.

With eyes dancing with fervour, he doesn’t look so lonely anymore. You worry, sometimes, that you won’t be able to reach him, that your worlds are too different. He’s a living legend who seems so out of everyone’s league it’s almost funny.

But he’s also Leo: easygoing and warm, when all he wants is to curl up in your arms, to kiss you, and run his hands all over you, a dragon curling and rubbing itself all over its greatest treasure. When he just soaks up every bit of affection you offer him like a starving sponge.

The flat of his palm meets the soft flesh of your rear with a low smack, pulling you out of your musing.

“I think that’s really e-embarrassing.”

Such a demanding old cat, you think. Always wanting to hoard your attention. You should save that one; he gets, quite subtly, but adorably huffy when you say that. You’ve seen his quiet, simmering anger over the big things, but it brings you an odd sort of joy when he gets playfully mad at you over the little things. When instead of shrugging it off, he pouts until you’ve peppered enough kisses all over his face.

He pinches your stinging flesh.

“Don’t agree. Story’s not over, though. So, then I brought you back here, but you decided to be a bad girl and torture your helpless compagno.” His hands slip up your shirt to cup your breasts, your back arching when his thumbs brush over tightening nipples.

“I’m not sure h-helpless is a word I would ever use to de-describe you.” Desire begins to pool between your legs, your head dropping back when he rolls the peaks between his forefingers and thumbs. You slip the shirt over your head, much to his approval and he doesn’t hesitate before leaning in for a taste, his next words spoken into your skin.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? But when the love of your life kisses you so sweetly, tasting like rich wine, with her hand on your cock–” He sucks a taut nipple into his mouth, working his mouth roughly as you moan and weave trembling fingers through his hair. “And you have to tuck her into bed because she’s drunk, and spend the rest of the night trying to think of the most disgusting things you’ve seen in your life? One can only wonder what circle of hell invented this.”

“I-“ your skin burns at the thought of you trying to drunkenly seduce him, and you sit back on your heels with ears burning hotly. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too. You put up a real tough fight, nearly convinced me…the places my mind went…” Leonardo sighs and slips a leg between your thighs, laughing when you squirm at the firm muscle of his thigh pressing into your sex. “Yeah? You wanna know?”

“Did I really do that?” It comes to you in one single sentence, and the memory of Leonardo’s body pinned beneath you.

“I just want to feel you. Please?”

Strong hands grip your hips and pull you forward, the friction robbing you of all coherence for a second. “I very nearly prayed.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, planting soft kisses on both his cheeks, reaching for the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. “I’m really sorry.”

“Mm.” The pleased possessiveness in his eyes always takes your breath away, and the way he sighs and relaxes at your touch makes your heart thump in delight. It always ends up this way; a quiet moment spent with hands running over warm skin, the muscles of his chest firm under your fingers, your spine stretching as his palm slides along the length of it. “I’ll allow you to make up for it.”

“Yeah?” Your lips brush over his, and you breathe in the sweet scent lingering in his breath. Your hand slides down his solid abdomen, coming to rest on the waistband of his pants. “What do you need me to do?”

With a small hum, his darkened eyes fixated on yours, clever fingers brush your breasts, your sex, and in a move that makes your breath hitch in your throat, they wander over to your rear, between plump flesh–and you immediately consider if what you’ll need is available or if you’ll have to run down to the kitchen.

Leonardo kisses his way across your cheek, soft and sweet, lips warming your ear. “Smile for me.”

You blink as he pulls back to grin boyishly at you, feeling your brow twitch as your head drops to his shoulder. “You make me feel like a horny pervert.”

“Aren’t you?”

The sound you make is childish, near whiny in tone as you attempt to jump off his lap and flee to the safety of his bed. An admirable attempt, but one that is foiled right away by his arms wrapping around you. “Hey, don’t run from me.”

“Leave me to my shame, Leo.” He pulls you close, chest pressing to chest, and your lips quiver at the feeling of your breasts against his muscle, and the way he tries to look stern but his affection just softens it until you want to eat him up.

“You’re so pretty, Leo. Sometimes I wanna just eat you up.”

Dear Lord. Drunk you is shameless.

“No shame in wanting your lover, cara mia,” Leonardo coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I want you just as badly, in every single way, all the time. Il mio cuore è tutto per te,” he murmurs, pulling your hips down to meet his, your mouth watering at the hard ridge of his erection.

“I don’t see you making a fool of yourself,” you breathe, rolling your hips into his, thrill unfurling within you when he growls throatily.

“If you saw what goes on in my head, you would run.” His voice is a power unto itself, growing deeper, going straight to your pussy. You reach for the fly of his pants, unbuttoning it swiftly and tugging at them until he lifts his hips with a thick chuckle.

“Never. I’m far braver than that, and much too in love,” you declare, yanking the fabric down his thighs, taking a moment to admire the thick muscle defining them.

“And you say I’m the smooth talker.” You crawl up the length of his long legs, his keen eyes raking over you, swaying breasts calling his hands to them like fleshy magnets. “Come to me, cara mia. I’ve been waiting too long to get my hands on you.”

The head of his hard cock pokes at your thigh when you settle over his lap, his legs spread out. It begins to leak with a few pumps from you, and your eyes flit between the beads of his precome and the way his lashes flutter with each movement of your hand.

“I don’t think I can wait too long,” he groans. “I was hard most of the night. Wanted you so bad.”

“Sorry, baby.” You press your lips to his chastely, again and again until his other hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, keeping you there. Rough fingers reach your entrance, collecting drops of your arousal before pushing in. A wicked grin stretches across your mouth, matching his own.

“Ah, I don’t think you’re up for waiting either.” Shuffling on your knees, you guide the head of his cock to your entrance, slack-jawed as you sink onto it.

“...Fuck, Leo.”

Leonardo draws you into another kiss, teeth sinking into your lip when you clench him tightly. His hands squeeze your thighs and, in a display of strength that honest to god has your pussy fluttering, he lifts onto his knees with ease, your legs coming to wrap around his hips. With his tongue still licking into your mouth, he pulls you half off his cock before jerking you back down and slamming his hips into yours. He swallows every moan, every cry, every wrecked sound that climbs up your throat.

“You feel so good, cara mia. So perfect. And you’re all mine,” he growls into your skin, his thrusts relentless, intent on taking you apart. He presses you back into the bookshelf, and your heart pounds in your chest when he adjusts his grip on your thighs, pushing them back and hooking your calves over his broad shoulders.

The next, merciless slide of his length into you has your eyes rolling back. It’s only in this, when it comes to sex and your pleasure that Leonardo can push you in different, filthy ways until you’re left shaking. Your voice climbs in pitch with every rough thrust, your hands scrambling for purchase on a shelf behind you.

“There, oh, there, please, k-keep doing that,” you sob, blinking back tears as you look up at him pleadingly, burning hotter at the sharp, consuming desire you see. He presses what feels like impossibly closer, the burning in your thighs strong but the drag of his skin against your bundle of nerves overwhelming.

“Come for me, ___,” he groans, a wicked smile ghosting across his lips, allowing you a glimpse of fanged teeth and you see stars. Your back arches, head thumping against wood; your walls clamp down, and a hiss leaves his lips as you break in his arms. He slows his pace, fucking you through it, lips chasing away the tears spilling over.

Forehead pressed to his shoulder, chest heaving, mind and body more jelly than flesh–his cock is still heavy in you, and an involuntary whimper sounds deep in your throat when you look up at him. He kisses you gently.

And with all his gentle affection, he pulls you off of his length and sets you down in front of the window, back arched and ass out, the glass cool against your sweaty cheek. You hiss softly when he slides in again, your breath fogging up the glass, his front curled over your back. Brushing away damp strands, he plants open-mouthed kisses on the nape of your neck, your shoulders. Twining your hair around his fist, other hand steady on your hip–he angles his hips and thrusts deep.

You had been sure you didn’t have it in you to make even the slightest noise, but your body disagrees in the form of a low keen, your aching cunt swallowing him greedily.

“That’s my good girl,” Leonardo exhales, his pace turning swifter and harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin providing an erotic contrast to the soothing rain. “Sorry for being so greedy but…” His fingers find your swollen clit and heat coils in your belly. “...I want one more.”

Denying him, your own pleasure at that, is not something within your capacity.

He muffles a guttural groan in your skin, nearly rutting into you as you wail, loud and wanton, unravelling once more. His pace stutters and liquid heat fills you in thick spurts. You turn your head, weak but wanting, to welcome his lips on yours.

Cracking the window open once more, you curl up against his body, his heat more than enough to shield you from the cold. You brush his hair away from his face, his having slipped free in the frenzy of desire. He rubs your lower back gently, covering you with his still-warm shirt, reclining against the bookshelf; you think you almost hear him purr his contentment.

“Wait, where’s Lumière?” You’ve seen no sign of him, and the thought relieves you a little.

“Following Sebas around, last I saw him,” he mumbles, nosing at the skin behind your ear. You’re both so sweaty, but you wonder if you can make it to Le Thermae without running into any curious residents. “Also, cara mia, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Mm?”

“I talked to Comte about it, and he’s agreed so you don’t need to worry about that. If you’re okay with it, I wanted to take a little trip.” You look at him and he pokes your cheek, but there’s no missing the hopeful look in those eyes.

“Just us?”

“Just us. I want you all to myself,” he tells you, smug smirk and cockiness, before it softens into a tiny smile. “I had some work, back in Italy. Thought I could take you, show you around since we’d have the chance. Only if you’d like to, of course.”

“I’d love to.” Your immediate response is, quite embarrassingly, teary eyes and an enthusiastic kiss. Pulling back, you raise a brow. “Only if I’d like to? You mean you wouldn’t have wrapped me up in my sleep and taken me along anyway?”

“As you cute as you look when you’re grumpy,” he laughs at the narrowing of your glittering eyes, “the journey would be far more pleasant if you’re happy, no?”

“But I’m always happy when I’m with you,” you point out, foxy smile in place. The fuzzy feeling in your heart feels close to spilling over when he hugs you closer, but you still catch the way the tips of his ears flush. He holds you close as if wanting to imprint the feeling of your body against his, to sear your love onto his heart, to inhale the scent of you and trap it in his lungs–before the day comes when he will no longer have the chance to.

You turn away from the sadness and bury your face in his chest.

“Y-yeah, well. It’s time you got to eat some of the best food in the world.”

Now is the time for love, and you plan to give him so much, to paint him in the colours of your adoration, devotion and passion–that loneliness will not dare touch him for a long, long time.

Thank you for reading~

Translation:

il mio cuore è tutto per te: my heart is all for you

cuore mio: my heart

per sempre tuo: forever yours (tuo is masculine singular possessive, tua is feminine singular possessive)

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikevam #ikevam leonardo #ikevamp leo

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