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dinodinodin0 · 2 years

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He brought you to me, pretty girl

Pairings: Eddie x innocent! reader

Warnings: fem!reader, Christianity, references and setting to church, daddy kink, oral sex (F!recieving) manipulation of innocent reader so obligated *dubcon*

Part one • part two

The next day, you woke up to Eddie long gone, your window still up as the cold morning breeze hit your face. You yawn and stretch, jaw still slightly sore.

You hear your dad calling you down to the table, "y/n! Come eat breakfast pumpkin!"

You stretch and put on your bunny slippers, walking down the steps and into your kitchen.

"woah, what's up with the pajamas Y/N? It's 9:00 on the dot, you're usually up by now," you mother questioned, checking your forehead and clicking her tongue, as she found no evidence of a cold.

"oh, sorry momma, I had a long night." You said, sitting down at the table and intently watching your dad set down a plate of waffles. You pick up your fork before your mom slaps your wrist.

"ah, grace first year young lady! What has gotten into you this morning?" She said, gesturing to you as she made eye contact with your father.

You apologized and paced a quick, thank you for blessing this food, before scarfing down your breakfast.

You dad walked over to his seat and sat down, tucking a napkin into his collar.

"you alright pumpkin? You've just been a bit off today is all. You never forget grace," he says, placing his hand on yours.

"oh, I'm sorry daddy. I guess I just got to bed late. I had a boy over."

Your mother gasped but your dad kept his surprise down, asking you what you two had done while he was over.

"you didn't bring him into your room did you?" Prodded your mother.

Nuh uh, you shook your head. It was technically true, he had brought himself in. And anyway, Eddie told you not to tell your parents, like you wouldn't talk about a confession. What you did with Eddie was for his eyes and gods, and that alone.

"oh, just some prayer."

You parents sighed and smiled. They never suspected their beautiful, selfless and faithful child to be rebellious anyway.

After mealtime, your father went off to work and you told your mother you'd be helping out at the church.

At church, you did your usual morning rounds and said good morning to everyone volunteering, and the clergy's.

"hello father! How was your night at the church yesterday?" You asked, greeting him with a nod.

"oh you know y/n, the usual. Had some folks stay after communion, and had some come in for confession." He said, reviewing the schedule for the week.

"well I thought last mass was great father, wonderful as always," you smiled to him, continuing on your volunteering.

After a few hours of working, the older church workers had told you they had it handled, and to enjoy the rest of your day.

"alright, goodbye misses Jones! I hope you have more luck with your petunias. Have a good Monday father!" You call out, walking out of the main doors.

You look and startle, gasping as you see the unexpected sight of your boyfriend.

"what is with you and startling me Eddie?" You say, laughing and prancing over to him.

"why do you call the priest father?"

"oh- well it's just a sign of respect, he's our lea-" he cuts you off.

"no. Like, why not call him daddy or something," he laughs, gesturing for you to grab his hand.

You do, giggling at the thought.

"like I call my father? Oh, I get it! That's so silly."

He walks you over to his bands grarage spot,

"you should call me daddy."

You peer up at him, confused. You didn't like questioning him, but you had to admit you were perplexed.

"do you want me to call you daddy, Ed's?"

"well, I mean, it's a sign of respect isn't it? When you confess to your priest, you don't call him by his first name. And like I said, what we do is kinda like confession right?"

You nod, smiling up at him, "okay daddy!" You giggle.

He chuckled at you.

After watching him and his band mates practice, you clap supportively at them.

"you guys did so well! I love the drums, Gareth. Very... Drum-y!" You say, playing air drums briefly.

Everyone laughs at your compliment. Eddie puts his guitar back in it's case and sets it onto his back.

You realize just how strong he is. If you attempted to wear that around town, eventually you're sure it's weight would have you on your back. The guitar was huge comparitivly to you.

The feeling was back. You felt your skin warm up, cheeks flush. You felt your parts get hot, and you felt yourself grow deprived.

You get up, and tug on Eddie's jacket sleeve.

"yes doll face?"

The feelings back, you whisper anxiously.

"awh baby.. d'you wanna get outta here and pray with me then?" He questions caringly, rubbing the sides of your arm.

You nod, feeling him grab your hand and lead you to his van. He helps you up, lifting you by your waist, and getting in on the driver's side.

He calls to his band mates and tells them he'll talk to them tomorrow, then brings his arm to the back of your seat, backing out of their driveway.

He drives faster than you're used to, hand placed firmly on your thigh.

You feel yourself grow needier, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction.

Eddie notices, and brings his hand slyly to your center, rubbing you with his palm.

You mewl quietly, tugging your skirt over his hands as he continues to hold his hand to your warm parts. You grind up into his hand as he chuckles at how pathetic you were for him.

"we're here." He says, removing his hand as you whine at the sudden lack of contact.

"where's here?" You say, curiously.

"absolutely nowhere. I brought you somewhere nobody would see us. Private, remember? This is our secret." He tells you, watching you writhe in his seat, "hop in the back and lay down."

You do as he says, climbing over and laying down on his back seats.

"you're so pretty like this, sweet girl. So needy to worship." He cooes, prying open your legs, "and you're so wet for me, arnt you?"

You whine as he inspects you, sliding your panties off and biting his lip at the sight of your cunt.

"you're so beautiful sweetheart."

"thank you eddi-"

He grips your thighs tightly and looks up to you.

"what did you just call me?"

You swallow, eyebrows knitted in worry.

"thank you daddy."

"attagirl."

He shifts closer to your heat.

'if you pray to me well enough, I can help you with your feeling again. I want you to beg me."

You jump at the opportunity, full of neediness.

"p-please daddy, please help me again. I need you," you plead, voice desperate and waivering.

"I'm going to put my mouth on you, can you beg for that pretty girl?" He says, rubbing your slit with his thumb.

You gasp, "goodness.. please put your mouth on me daddy, I need you down there, please "

He smirks up at you, and slowly licks a stripe from your asshole to your clit, chuckling at your attempts to stifle your sounds.

You slap your hand over your mouth as he continues to lick you, circling your clit.

"t-hank you daddy, " you cry, incredibly sensitive. You've never done this kind of thing, and every sensation was new to you. It felt amazing, you knew god was rewarding you for your efforts, and you were so greatful for Eddie, your daddy.

He sucks on your clit and groans, letting you feel the vibrations from his voice.

"I'm gonna add two fingers, alright doll?"

You barely get to react as you abruptly feel a stretching sensation, having you whimper in pain.

"daddy, daddy it hurts, I-is it supposed to?" You whine, as he gently pumps his fingers into you.

He hisses at how tight you are around him, "of course sweetheart, how else could you prove yourself to me? God makes things challenging for a reason, doesn't he?"

You nod and bear it, painful whimpers evolving into pleasurable moans.

"daddy, gosh, daddy i-i have to.. can't hold it," you cry.

"hold what baby?" He presses down on your abdomen, watching you pant.

"i-i don't know.. I feel something building down there again-" your legs attempt to close, but he prys them open.

"you gonna cum sweet girl?" You nod.

"My poor baby. C'mon, you can cum baby," he taunts you as you feel a wave if pleasure wash over you. You gush on his fingers and tongue, breathing heavily.

He cooes at you, "look at that, You're such a good girl for me. Cumming on my fingers like you did just now,"

You watch as he cleans you, then sucking yourself off of his fingers.

Your eyes feel heavy again, your body exhausted from being pushed to such limits. You grab for him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he places a kiss onto your forehead.

He lays down with you, cuddling you and rubbing your waist.

"my good girl."

#eddie x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie Munson fanfic series #eddie munson series #innocent!reader #corruption #perv!eddie

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heyitsdoe · 1 year

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A/N - This is a (long overdue) commission sent to me by the one and only Mew. <3 You've waited awhile for this one and I hope it lives up to expectations. Please enjoy, and thank you so much for supporting me and just being a really great friend always! ^_^

Inspired in large part by The Taste of You by secretsnailor (Please go read, it's a wonderful fic!!)

WARNINGS: Vampire AU, Blood kink, blood drinking, Threesome, AFAB reader with they/them pronouns, reader is a 'pet' to Maren and Katakuri

What was one to do, when you had everything you could possibly desire? When the world was at your disposal, at your every beck and call? The question felt antithetical, but it was one that you, quite unexpectedly, were now faced with.

The country's finest clothes, no further away than your fingertips. Rows upon rows of the softest, highest-quality garbs you've ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon—hung up in your own dresser. Your dresser. All assortment of colors and styles. You had all the makings to be the pinnacle of fashion.

Every meal you ate, day or night, was prepared and served by the most esteemed chef money could afford, one call away should you feel even the slightest bit peckish. Whatever you craved, you were provided, culinary cuisines from outside the country, should you request it. Nothing was off limits, other than having the company of your newest acquaintances with dinner.

Everything had changed since that night. You couldn't count them all since waking that morning in a state of confusion, wedged in between the already wide-awake men who'd shown you pleasure you hadn't thought possible. Memories of what exactly had transpired were foggy at best, but the ache between your thighs and the lightheadedness that lingered were evidence enough of a rough night. Not unpleasant, but nothing close to what was typical of you.

Ever the conundrum, Katakuri himself had seemed aloof and distant to you even as he handed you your clothing to redress with an awkward mutter. Perhaps he felt embarrassed by the whole thing? Likely. Given his previously noted aversion to socializing—even with his own party guests—it didn't sound all that far-fetched. The man barely spoke 3 words to you as Maren offered to have breakfast prepared, sporting his perpetual, amused smile.

You'd eaten alone that morning—not quite as strange as you'd thought it would feel, all things considered—scarfing down a hearty meal in the silence and luxury of Katakuri's exorbitant dining room. Not a soul was around, and within minutes, the food in front of you was gone. After last night, you were more ravenous than you'd initially thought. A full belly helped with your mild headache, however, and life seemed to come back to your skin.

What now? Were you simply supposed to go back to life as you'd known it, after a mind-altering experience the night before? The whole thing was quite perplexing, and it was difficult to truly fathom the strange dilemma you now found yourself in. That question bounced around your head as you were thankfully prepared a second portion of breakfast by Katakuri's on-staff chef.

The answer came much quicker than expected, though it still caught you completely off guard as you sought out your hosts once more that morning.

"So, wha'do'ya say, lass?" Maren inquired with an obvious glint in his eye, hands spread to gesture to the house. "Fancy livin' here? I'm willing to bet it's a right improvement to wherever you come from."

You blink. Huh?

A raised brow was all you could manage for a moment, eyes flicking between Maren's expectant expression and the taciturn mask of Katakuri, who stood off to the side behind him, silent. Clearly still part of the conversation but offering no comment. While he didn't voice his disapproval of his partner's offer, there was little doubt he wasn't thrilled with the idea. The depth of his frown made that abundantly obvious.

Was this some elaborate leg-pull? Maren hadn't done wrong by you thus far, but this felt a little too much. Something like this felt just up his alley. "We've only just met, and you're offering me to live with you? What gall…"

"Sure, it's a little rushed—unorthodox, one might say—but…think about it, eh?" Maren admits with a casual shrug, sauntering over with a proper swagger you can't deny. He wraps one large arm around your shoulder, pulling you in with such familiarity. "Last night was a whole lot of fun, yeah? You certainly looked like you'd enjoyed yourself…I know we certainly did. Wouldn't you want to do it again?"

You blink once, then feel that same intoxicating scent waft under your nose from last night, coaxing the agreement you hadn't yet established the nerve to voice. Your skin seems to hum in response, welcoming the sensation. You can't help the nod, giving in to what your feelings were saying, rather than what social norm and expectation demanded. The slightest movement from Katakuri--a subtle shake of his head and a breathy sigh--barely registers amidst the remnant pleasures this trance-like haze brings to the surface.

"Maren." Katakuri's deep voice mutters a warning that you don't possess the sense enough to understand under this strange glamour. And while the tone might have stopped you in your tracks, the orange-haired man knew well enough by now. Unbeknownst to you, they'd already talked about this in length once you'd left the bedroom. His protest was half-hearted, and Maren knew it.

Continuing on, Maren gave your shoulder a light pat. "Ah, don't mind him, someone doesn't do well with change, is all. He'll come around."

Your frown, not fully getting what he was saying, but Maren continues anyway. "Seems to me the best solution is just to keep you close. Easier than hosting silly parties every time we want you to stop by. And just think! A nice little room all yourself, whatever you want, whenever you want it…that sounds fair enough for your, ah, shall we say…services. Wouldn't you like that?"

Words bounced around your skull, but from what you did understand, this offer was sounding in your favor. "I suppose, but-"

"Great!" The man's cheeky smile is wide and vibrant as he pats you on the back. The strength nearly sends you tumbling to the floor, his enthusiasm getting the best of him. "We'll have someone help move your things."

Moving in with two men who had only just become your acquaintances, you'd come to discover, would be the least scandalous aspect about this new living situation. Most notably, finding out your two new housemates were dark, otherworldly beings had been the most…complicated development.

Your housemates' strange quirks weren't hard to miss in the coming weeks. Well, Maren's more than Katakuri's, but both shared many unusual habits. They never went out into the sun, preferring to travel at night if they were to leave the house. Not once did they dine with you, taking their meals together in their shared quarters. In fact, you'd never actually seem them eat anything at all. And to top it all off, they were practically chilled to the bone, whenever your skin brushed against theirs.

All this, coupled with a few careless slips of the tongue from Maren—usually some implied in-joke or pun he thought humorous—had you putting pieces of a puzzle together in your mind. Looking back, it made more sense that the two of them were something not altogether human. It certainly explained the bite marks you'd found on your neck that first morning, for one.

You stared into your mirror that night, questioning everything you'd been lead to believe all this time. Vampires…old fables, wives tales, the stuff whispered to make naughty children finally behave. To think they could be real…well, all things considered, you were handling this a lot better than expected. They hadn't killed you yet. Yet. Hell…You doubted they would, after a few weeks of living together. In fact, from everything you'd seen, your wellbeing was important to them.

But…the perks outweighed the risks, you thought. If a little blood was all they needed, surely you could pay the price for a life of luxury and comfort? Nowadays, that was a guarantee worth your weight in gold. And with the knowledge that keeping this arrangement intact was important, it had become clear you needed to speak with the two men of the house matter-of-factly.

You'd sought them out one evening, breaking routine a few weeks after moving in. They sat in the parlor together, conversing in low tones just out of your audible range, when you entered the room. Katakuri was the first to notice you, going quiet as you stepped closer. He lowered the reading glasses from his face and made to clean them of smudges.

"Did you need something?"

Now Maren was watching with interested from his seat in the plush chair beside Katakuri, a smile waiting in the wings, wondering what you'd come in to discuss. It struck you then, just how much he didn't fit what he was. He lacked a certain…intimidation that you'd always pictured vampires in your head to possess.

Taking in a slow breath, and flicking your eyes between your two housemates in both trepidation and curiosity, you say what you'd come to say before you lose your nerve.

"You're vampires."

Silence greets you. Maren's expression has taken on something of disbelief, still mixed with his typical amusement. You don't miss the subtle glance at his male compatriot, who remained taciturn and unmoved in his chair.

The span of several seconds pass, feeling an eternity in the extended silence.

"I don't mean to be rude, Y/N, but…" With a clearing of his throat, Katakuri sighs. "Are you feeling well?"

You have the grace to frown. "I'm feeling just fine."

"Surely you hear yourself, then. Vampires?" His brows raise, head shaking slowly. "The stuff of fairytales?"

"I know what I saw, what I felt. You drank my blood that night. Both of you." Your eyes glance over to Maren as well, not excluding him from the conversation. He'd been strangely quiet thus far. So unlike him… "Maybe some of it is still a little hazy, but it's coming back to me, slowly."

Once more, Katakuri rebuffs your sentiments. "I think perhaps a bit too much wine got to your head-"

"Don't play coy." You persist, chin held high in confidence. "That's why you host all those parties, right? So you can choose someone to drink blood from? That's why you want me to stay, an easy source on hand in case you need more. That's why I'm valuable to you."

Katakuri goes to stand, but Maren places a large hand on his shoulder, sending a pointed stare at him. They hold each other's gaze for a long moment. You're certain there's some unspoken communication going on, more than you'll ever be able to comprehend right now. All you know is Maren appears more serious than you've ever seen him, which looks so strange on the usually jovial man.

Coming to some kind of consensus, Katakuri's eyes close and he lets out a long sigh. Maren, in turn, looks back to you with that typical grin you're so used to by now.

"Well…guess there's no point hidin' it now." His chuckle suddenly makes you gulp, something deeper than his typical mirth. Something a bit more…predatory. It takes all your resolve not to take a step back when he glances down your body. "What a smart little thing we invited into our home."

"There are very few alive who know of our true nature." Katakuri rumbles, pinning you with a terrifying stare. So opposite of his companion, he was not smiling. He didn't seem to find any of this funny. "We do all we can to keep it that way. For our own safety, of course. Now that you've discovered it of your own accord, I wonder what we shall do with you…"

"I'm not looking to go telling anyone. Your secret is safe with me. I'll not say a word." You reassure, holding up your hands in a placating gesture. This conversation was edging in a direction you didn't particularly like. Best not to anger these powerful men. "If some blood is all you really need, I can agree to parting with some on occasion. The fact that you're vampires really doesn't bother me too much…unless you ultimately do intend to kill me, that is."

Katakuri blinks, a frown settling over his features. You've perplexed him. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

"Completely."

"Ha! I knew I liked them for a reason." Maren is quick to find the humor in such a tense moment, which you're thankful for. His easy-going mood seems to lessen Katakuri's much more severe one, causing the older man to sigh.

"You should be taking this more seriously, Maren."

"You know me, I'm always serious." His grin widens as his companion groans. "This is good news, Kata. All that glamouring can take a lot out of me. Now there's no need, if the lass is so willing to provide what we need."

"Hmm." Katakuri gives you another once over, pondering the situation as it was now, before looking back to his partner. "I suppose you are right. It is convenient. Still. You should have been more careful. If Y/N had harbored any ill intentions, we could have put ourselves in harms way. It still may prove to be something we come to regret in time."

You're left standing there, glancing back and forth between the two vampires, until a thought comes to mind. Katakuri seems to sense this and looks at you expectantly. "Since we're getting everything out in the open…how often do you actually need my blood? And…how much?"

Maren goes to answer, but a raised hand stops him in time for Katakuri to provide one.

"Not often. Certainly not as frequently as you humans require sustenance." The orange-haired man has the audacity to appear chastened, you notice, and takes on a pout as Katakuri continues. "We can get by with feeding only once in a few weeks, perhaps even a month, if we're careful about it. Fortunate, as it would be quite troublesome having to find another source of blood every day without raising suspicion."

"Makes sense." You muse, nodding slowly. Then, with that information at your disposal, something dawns on you. "That means you'll be needing to feed again soon, right? It's been several weeks since we met."

"You're tellin' me." Maren mutters, a pained expression in place. "Been gettin' the jitters worse and worse in the last few days…Nothing a pint or two can't solve."

"Then, here." You raise your arm and pull back your sleeve enough to expose your wrist, facing upwards. "If you need it, just take some."

They only look at you, before sharing a glance once more. Unsure of what the problem was, you watch as Maren shakes his head.

"It's a bit more complicated than that, lass. Don't misunderstand, the willingness is appreciated. But this ain't the typical setting we feed in. There's a bit more, ah…activity involved, if you catch my meanin'."

The implication becomes apparent after a bit of thought, and clarity begins to dawn on your expression. "So…you only feed when…becoming intimate?"

"Yes." Katakuri confirms. "Feeding is more than just sustenance. For us, it's the nearest thing to the sensation of life we can achieve. Sex goes hand in hand with that."

"I see." Some part of you think to feel trepidation at the strange requirement, but the idea of sleeping with the two vampires a second time is…tantalizing to say the least. It had been weeks since you'd been pressed between them, the blur of Maren's glamour muddling your senses and yet heightening them to a point that made you dizzy. You couldn't deny that you missed it.

More than one dream had featured a foggy recreation of your time together. The real deal would be leagues better, you knew.

Were you coming across as too eager? Hmm…you weren't sure if that was necessarily a bad thing. Armed with all of this new knowledge, now you needed time to take it all in.

"Should you need to feed again, then come find me. I'm ready whenever you are." You say, bidding them a goodnight after that and sauntering away to your own rooms for the evening.

Once you're out of earshot, Maren snickers in amusement. "Well, things just got a lot more interesting. Our little pet is more obedient than I hoped they'd be."

Katakuri's tone returned to a chastising one. "Keep your urges in check, then. If you truly intend to keep this human around for longer than one feeding, resist the cravings. They are fragile creatures. I agreed to them living in the house on that condition, don't forget."

"I don't know, Y/N seems stronger than they look. Didn't even blink an eye when they found out what we were." His shrug only makes Katakuri's frown deepen. "Maybe they'll surprise you."

"And maybe they won't." Clearly, Maren was past the point of truly taking his words to heart, the thought of their next feeding already clouding his judgement. "Don't get ahead of yourself, or you just may kill them."

Sex was a constant in this newfound—relationship?—with Katakuri and Maren. Not in the way of happening every day, of course. The human body only produced so much blood in such a short time. Rather, when they did beckon you into the bedroom with them—your mind once more in a haze now so familiar, since it was becoming apparent Maren just couldn't help himself sometimes—it transcended the definition of sex. For as dramatic as it sounded, the experiences from behind those closed doors felt…beyond this realm. The sensations of life, as Katakuri called them. You weren't sure what other name it could have, but the intensity, the intoxicating nature of it all, was more than you'd thought a human could endure.

Like clockwork, you'd be called to Katakuri's chambers every few weeks, only to be greeted by the sight of two very hungry and lustful vampires waiting on you. Their stares were pinning. A lesser person might freeze under the intensity. But not you. The thought to be awkward about it didn't even cross your mind, not when they were staring at you with such desire. Stimulating, exhilarating pleasure always followed after.

Perhaps without intention, the time between your liaisons grew shorter and shorter. 25 days. Then 23. The next time had only been 17 days after that. Maren was always so eager to initiate, complimenting your succulent taste and heady warmth even just a few days after the last feeding. There truly was no sating his lust for you—well, you're blood, of course. Katakuri was always quick to chastise him, unimpressed with his reckless remarks, but Maren rarely took the lectures seriously.

Though for as stimulating as it all was, the aftermath of your nights together took an increasingly noticeable physical toll. You ached and shivered in the days after a feeding, feeling cold to the touch. No amount of blankets seemed to help. Dizzy spells took you after standing too fast or exerting too much energy too hastily. There was more than one time when you'd come to consciousness laying on the floor, eyes blinking away at the smattering of black dots slowly receding to the edges of your vision.

All that aside, living with Katakuri and his partner was quite tolerable. Pleasant, even. You'd honestly lived in worse conditions before. The incredibly satisfying sex on top of it all was simply a bonus.

It wouldn't be wrong to say you were somewhat addicted yourself. The thought of your next coupling was a constant worm at the back of your mind, niggling and rising to the surface at any phantom reminder of the touch of their teeth against your neck, or the way their hands trailed your skin…goosebumps often rose along your arms at any given time of day, simply at the thought of those heated moments together.

But Katakuri had noticed the signs of your weakening health, no matter how much you insisted you were fine. His piercing red eyes saw all. Every long, wearied blink, every shiver of your chilled skin. Even the yawns you did you best to stifle, sleep eluding you some nights from physical discomfort. You suspected he could discern whether someone was lying or not, given the lack of belief he had in anything you had to say about your own well-being. His denials of your offers of blood were hard and unrelenting.

"It's too soon." Was his typical response. "You're not well enough to give more blood, Y/N. Eat. Rest. Recover. I will come to you should we need to feed again."

It was touching, you thought, that he cared enough about you not dying to refuse blood. At least, that's what it looked like from your perspective. It was frustrating, though. Another night of passionate sex between him and his orange-haired partner was something you looked more and more forward to with each new encounter.

Days you waited, thinking and yearning. Itching with phantom tendrils of pleasure. Hours dragged, your mental calendar counting down the days left until you could next offer yourself up to the bloodthirsty beasts. It took a not insignificant amount of effort to stop yourself from seeking your two housemates out each night.

This…addiction, because face it, that was exactly what it was mounting up to be, was potent. It was all you could do to hold it together and compose yourself when the sun descended from the horizon. At night, the impulses, the urges, felt strongest. No amount of self-pleasure seemed to sate them either.

And Maren, ever-enticing, proved to be more than willing to prod that desire even further

"Can't wait to have you again…" He'd mutter while passing behind you as you stood at the window, overlooking the rest of the rooftops. A wicked grin splits his face as he leans in, hands placing themselves on your shoulders with a little squeeze. "I can still taste the sweetness, you know. Your blood's somethin' else, lass. Real special."

"Why?"

"Couldn't say. Don't know what sets you apart from the rest, but your blood…it's like nectar." His huffed little laugh gives you goosebumps. "Rich and pure. You've surely made an addict out of me."

A sigh escapes past your lips, a shiver of anticipation running up your spine at the feel of his cold skin against your own warmth. Limply, your neck rolls to the side, inviting his mouth closer. The barest scrape of teeth has you whimper a pathetic little noise, eyes fluttering closed.

Your voice is soft and breathless, but evidence of your frustration comes out as a whine. "Katakuri keeps saying it's too soon."

"He's cautious. Too cautious, if you ask me." Maren explains with a shrug, tongue running up the column of your neck with lazy intent. "Doesn't want you to accidentally get hurt, but I know you're a strong one, Y/N. A little fun won't kill you, will it?"

"No…" Your heart thuds hard in your chest. "I can…take it."

"See? Knew you could." He hums in approval, but the absence of his mouth against your neck leaves you cold with disappointment just a moment later. "All we gotta do is convince him of that."

"How?" You swallow, some of the red haze you now associated with Maren receding from your mind.

"He wants it too, I know it. Just doesn't let himself give in. Better control of his urges, and all." He says, one hand trailing up to caress your cheek, then down to your bottom lip. "With a little enticing, a little…encouragement, I bet he'd see things our way. Wouldn't you like that? Together we can show him what he's missin' out on…"

You tried everything that you and Maren could think of.

Clothes with low neck-lines and wide shoulders, made of fine silks and satins—Maren's suggestions. He was well-accustomed to Katakuri's preferences by now. The insider knowledge increased your chances of changing the vampire's mind.

Hell, you even pulled out the garments with frills and thigh slits, baring your skin when you pass by the tall vampire. Scandalous attire, admittedly. Definitely not something you were used to putting on. Other than an interested glance and a subtle little lift of his brow at your unexpected and sudden change in fashion, there was no other reaction. Damn. Something a little more was required, then…

You upped your game. Something you'd noticed while living with the vampires was the apparent focus on your neck. Perhaps an impulse brought on by the vampirism. It was the spot they always drank from in the midst of sex, and there was more than one occasion when one or both of them had stroked the delicate skin with their fingers. Such a focal point could be used to your benefit. Hmm.

Poised, head tilted, running your hand down your jugular as if it was in slight pain was easy enough. You even had enough restraint to make it appear genuine. But oh, Katakuri was as stubborn as you were desperate. Sure, the way he'd swallow at the sight of your hand traveling down your neck was plain as day. His eyes followed the movement, the way your skin shifted when you turned your head. However, it was never anything more than that.

The man had impeccable control of himself. Infallible. Stoic.

Ugh. How frustrating.

Thankfully, you weren't alone in your pursuit of your newest addiction. Maren was all too eager to help you out, his goals the same. Every chance he could, he was by Katakuri's side, whispering and tempting the man with that silver tongue. Surely he knew every button and chip in the older vampire's proverbial armor by now? Decades together had to lend him that knowledge, right?

His many allusions about your times together were deflected easily enough, though. The temptation of your warm blood, combined with the intensity of sex wasn't swaying enough to get Katakuri to bite. Literally. Damn it all…

The two of you reconvened after the 3rd day of trying.

"I don't think he's going to budge." You say with dejection, fingers clenching into fists at your side. The ache of want felt heavy in your chest. "We may just have to wait until he says so."

"Ah, nonsense, lass." Despite your lack of success, Maren grinned his usual little smile, tilting your chin up with one large finger. "A little more of this and we'll turn him around. Promise!"

"You sound so certain."

"I am. I've known Katakuri a long time. Trust me." Maren's eyes darken with a mirth, a mischief, that both draws you in and send a tingle down your spine. "We haven't tried everything yet. Something's bound to work."

A little room redecoration was all it took, as it turned out.

The unfortunate slip of a decorative vase sitting on your dresser made you gasp, watching as the clearly expensive piece shattered into pieces on your bedroom floor. The noise was jarring, so late into the quiet evening. For a moment, you can only stare down at the broken fragments and shards, shocked that you'd done something so incredibly clumsy. All of this lust must really be getting to your head.

With a sigh, you carefully kneel to the ground, reaching for the biggest pieces to toss into the bin. At least it would preoccupy you for the night. A welcome distraction to the sex you were denied. What you wouldn't give to be trapped between the two vampires' chests right now, their cold skin electric against your warmth-

You were careful, mindful of the sharp edges of the fragile glass as you picked them from the floor. But another sudden noise jerks your attention upwards, where Katakuri appears unexpectedly in your doorway, no doubt investigating the noise that you'd caused.

"How unfortunate." He says, looking down at the mess all around you.

"Sorry…"

At first, you think he's about to chastise you for breaking something that was no doubt incredibly valuable—the thing had looked quite ornate and hand-crafted before you'd carelessly bumped it onto your floor—but instead he only gives a shrug. "No matter. I'll commission a new one from the artisan tomorrow."

You nod, glad that your mistake wasn't a major faux pas, before noticing Katakuri's posture stiffen. His jaw tenses, gaze intense in the way he stares down at you. Had he changed his mind? Realized that the vase was more valuable than he assumed?

A stinging sensation in your hand draws your eyes down, where the pieces of vase you'd picked up were now stained with red. Blood drips from the cut that now slid along the side of your ring finger, welling until it dripped to the floor beneath you.

"Y/N…" The vampire states in a tight voice, strained and held at bay by his rigid stature. "You're bleeding."

"Damn it…" You say, hastily putting the broken pieces into the bin before examining the wound closer. While the slice was thin, it apparently went deeper than you'd first assumed. It bled freely and fast. The startle Katakuri had given you upon entering the room must have caused you to clench your fingers into the glass unconsciously.

Before you can even think to find something to staunch the flow, Katakuri's kneeling in front of you, his hand cold against yours as he brings it up to his face to see better. It's the closest you've been to him since your last coupling, and the proximity makes you freeze, hold your breath.

His pupils are blown wide. Expression distant, confusing to interpret. There's a battle going on in that head of his, eyes pinned to where the red drips in a line down your finger. It still stings, but that's no longer your focus as you stare back with your heart beating heavily in your chest.

You hear his shaky exhale, followed by a slow inhale. His throat moves with a rough swallow, a quiver through his jaw. He's still holding back, with every part of his self-control. But just as Maren had said, he wanted it. So plainly now, you could see that truth.

"I shouldn't…" He mutters, almost to himself, marveling at the drops that continue to fall to the floor. Neither of you move to clean the mess up, funnily enough.

"Don't you want to?" You whisper, watching with bated breath. You're not sure if you could handle him answering with a denial. "It's ok."

"You might get hurt."

"Please, Kata…" Pleading with him finally draws his gaze somewhere other than your wound, up to your face where he can see the desperation behind your eyes in spades. "Haven't you made me wait long enough?"

His chest is slightly heaving with the effort to keep his urges in check, the scent of your blood overwhelming his senses. He can feel Maren somewhere nearby, likely drawn by the noise or the same coppery aroma that now filled his nostrils. And while he prided himself on his self-control, he was no saint. Far from it, in fact.

Deciding that yes, you had waited long enough, your finger finds its way into the vampire's mouth, his tongue laving over the cut greedily as he closes his eyes in relief. Air escapes your lungs in a rush, a thrill going up your spine.

Oh.

He takes his time, the scrape of his fangs gentle over your finger, careful not to cause further pain while also seeking the lifeblood you continued to spill. A low rumble makes your eyes flutter, your cunt squeeze, and a pathetic little noise to come out of your mouth.

"Oh god…" Even something so small as him sucking on your finger is getting you going. Hell, you were desperate. Your other hand fists your shirt, needing something to hold onto as he keeps you there. You squirm in place against his greedy mouth, unable to pull your eyes away from watching him lick away the red evidence of your cut.

So caught up in the moment, you don't even realize Maren's snuck his way into the door's frame, staring down at the two of you with heady mirth.

"Hey now, don't start without me, Kata." His chuckle seems to pull the older vampire from his trance-like behavior, his mouth lifting from your finger, a tiny string of saliva connecting the two.

Part of you fears that he'll drag himself back into his box of self-restraint, the moment broken, but no. He's too far gone for that by this point, the taste of your blood too strong to ignore, eyes still blown wide with need. He pants, eyeing Maren from the corner of his vision as he stands to his full height, grip still tight on your wrist pulling you along with him.

"We'll discuss your reckless schemes later." The dark promise was overladen with a lust that made you rub your thighs together. "Come."

Rather than wait for your slow human feet to walk through the house, Katakuri essentially drags you with an inhuman strength to his bedchambers, not bothering to warn you beforehand. With Maren no further than a few steps behind you at any point, you're disoriented when you're suddenly tumbling into the plush, oversized bed that the two men share.

The seconds it takes for you to gain an awareness of where exactly you were is enough for the two vampires to undress themselves, shucking layers of clothing to the floor. You're certain if they looked at you the way they were staring at each other, you'd melt on the spot. Their fangs, now more pronounced as lust overtook all other reason, gleaming in the light of the bedroom lamp in the corner.

Sluggishly, you start to take off your own clothing, but Katakuri and Maren take their places behind and in front of you in the blink of an eye. Their inhuman speed is startling and difficult to truly keep up with, leaving you fumbling to react when they move, when they touch. It's all you can do to simply take a breath.

"Finally…" Maren's elated little chuckle is dizzying as he removes your top with a yank upwards, your arms forced to lift with his strength. His eyes roam your chest, hungry and wild, but always drifting back up to the column of your neck. "Been waitin' so long for this."

"We really should have waited another few days." Katakuri's breath fans just behind you, sending a shiver up your spine as his fangs scrape ghostly along the shell of your ear. The firmness of his chest at your back—and something a bit harder further down—is sending pulses to your core. "But I can't stop myself now."

"Knew you'd give in eventually. Even you can't resist this forever." Is Maren's cheeky reply, shutting up as he elects to latch his mouth onto your exposed shoulder, sucking hard. You gasp at the mix of pain and pleasure, and it provides distraction enough that you're surprised to find Katakuri has already rid you of your bottoms too. How was this happening all so fast?

"Please…" Is all you can think to say, unsure what precisely you're begging for, but hoping your very naked and very ravenous vampire companions would understand the intent behind it.

"You'll get what you've wanted, Y/N." Is Katakuri's breathy promise, his hands smoothing up the skin of your thighs with reverence. "Be patient just a little longer."

You keen a whine, unsure if you have it in you not to be fucked right this instant. Amused by your frustration, Maren huffs a laugh against your collarbone, his mouth wandering wherever he sees fit.

Two fingers enter you smoothly, Katakuri picking a fast pace to start you off. Muscles tense at the sudden intrusion, but they relax as the sparking nerves in your core are finally given the attention they've wanted for so long. A long, grateful moan rips from your throat, those two fingers quickly increasing to three when it becomes apparent you're already wet from this tiny amount of foreplay alone.

"Fuck, I can smell you, lass." Maren groans out, his hand coming up to massage the flesh of your chest with calloused hands. "All that arousal, it's almost stronger than the blood. Needy, needy little thing you are…"

"Intoxicating." Katakuri agrees with a rumbled purr, his cock rubbing slowly against your lower back for what little friction he could find. You wanted so badly for his cock to replace his fingers, but patience was your virtue here. Just a little patience…

Despite the chill to their skin, your body felt way too hot, burning amidst your need. Spurned on by your desire for more, your hand reaches down between you and Maren and strokes his throbbing shaft. He groans at your touch, thrusting a little into your hand, seeking more.

"That's it, lass. Just like that." He mumbles encouragement, mouth still littering your chest and breasts with suck marks and little superficial bites. "Gonna make me feel good, are you?"

You nod hazily, struggling to keep a rapid pace with your hand as Katakuri's fingers continue fucking you closer to the edge. It's almost embarrassing how swiftly you were riding that edge, but you can't find it in you to really care. They simply felt too good.

Katakuri inhales sharply, a particularly hard thrust at your back indicating that the frustration was starting to creep in. Your cunt aches as his fingers pull out of your wet heat, leaving an intense feeling of emptiness in their wake. But the moment passes nearly the second it begins, Katakuri's hands lifting your thighs from under you and lifting you with ease from behind.

"Can't wait any longer." Is all the warning he gives you before his tip is prodding at your sopping entrance. There's no time to reply as his cock slips in with little resistance, the stretch sending your eyes to the back of your head. The older vampire groans in satisfaction upon sheathing fully inside of you, breathing steady and measured.

Maren lifts his head from your chest, hands still working you over easily. Your breasts shape and mold around his fingers, your nipples tweaked and rolled with enough force to be just a pinch painful. The pleasure always seemed to outweigh it, though. And with the two chests boxing you in between them, your legs lifted by Katakuri's hands, there's nowhere for you to even squirm.

"Never gets old, huh?" Maren whispers to Katakuri, his forehead coming to rest upon his male partner's. You're forced to tilt your head to the side to allow them the room, breathing through the fullness and double stimulation on your body.

"Just like the first time." You miss the longing stare the two men share, a brief flicker of reminisce as they recall a fond memory long passed. Years of companionship and affection culminating into this one single moment.

And then Katakuri moves his hips, making you moan again, and the intimacy shifts back to the primal lust that neither vampire could deny.

"Gonna taste so good." Maren pants, eyes dark with need, his hand coming down to help guide your swift pumps on his cock. Your incoherency, the slide of Katakuri's cock inside of you, makes your pace uncoordinated and sloppy.

"Careful how much you take. Don't…wanna hurt them." Katakuri reminds in a strained tone, muscles flexing as he pulls your thighs to squeeze even tighter against your chest. You can barely breathe in this position, the lack of oxygen sending little dots to your eyes.

You're little more than a plaything for the vampires, but that was fine. Just as all the times before, your sense of time and place seem to melt away as your body is used for their pleasure. You give what little you can in return, your human senses and reflexes decidedly lacking in comparison to them, but not once have they ever complained. Maren's hand guiding yours is a help, and your try retaining enough sense not to stop.

Panting, sweating, you're an utter mess between them. Your combined sounds of pleasure is music to your lewd, lustful ears.

The bed creaks under the movement and weight of the occupants. You're bounced up and them pulled back down onto the shaft with force, feeling every inch as deep as it can go. Your nerves flare with that familiar spark. The undeniable heat that tells you you're close. And you're not the only one.

Katakuri groans raggedly, pace stuttering just a moment. "Maren-"

"I know. Me too. Fuuuck…" His orange-haired partner grinds out, hips thrusting into your hand faster and faster. "Ain't gonna last. You wanna-?"

"Yes." You shudder in Katakuri's grasp when you hear the depth of his voice. Hell, as if this feeding couldn't be any sexier. "Yes…"

Your heart rate spikes as you feel the vampires place their sharp fangs against your neck and shoulder, knowing what was to come. Knowing there would be pain, but then immeasurable pleasure to follow. This was it. Your toes curl in anticipation.

"Bite me!" You say in a debauched voice, lust wrecking you completely. "Drink from me…take all you want."

"Shit, lass…" Maren stutters a breath against you. "No need to beg."

Two hard thrusts from Katakuri marks the moment when he's had enough. "Now." He commands in a gruff grunt, fangs sinking into your skin just after.

Maren is swift to follow, and your upper half seizes at the shock of your nerve endings on fire at the pain. You can't breath, the act itself too painful to try as they take the hot blood from your veins. Katakuri's thrusts never slow, fucking you through the feeding and jostling you just enough to heighten it all to an extreme.

White fuzz speckles your vision, just as your peak crests through your body. You shudder, muscles tense and shaky as the waves course through you every nerve. Their mouths continue to suck, pulling the blood from you with each one.

When the dizziness is nearly too much to keep conscious, Katakuri releases your neck with a gasp, a moan trailing off at the tail end. His hips still inside of you, hands squeezing you with such strength that you think he'll bend you in half. "Maren, enough." He groans, finally pulling the younger man from his stupor.

"Yeah, yeah…shit." He huffs, hands drifting down from your chest as the high begins to fade. It's only then that you notice the cum covering your stomach where Maren had released at some point during all of this. "Fuck, it's like a drug, Kata. They just taste way too damn good."

Katakuri's head shakes, but says nothing to the contrary. Slowly, he relaxes his grip on your thighs, setting you down to a more comfortable position between you. "Give them a minute to compose themselves." He tells his partner, watching you with slight worry at your dazed expression. "Perhaps this was too much-"

"No." You say in a mutter, head shaking slowly. "I'm alright."

"You're sure?"

"I just need a moment, that's all. I'm ok." You press, determined not to prove yourself or Maren wrong. All of that trouble just to pass out would be quite detrimental to your cause. Even now, coming down from the orgasm, you could feel the desire for another go creeping up on you. Damn, you were certainly insatiable.

These two vampires had ruined you for all other creatures—human or otherwise.

With a few steadying breaths, and an enticing stroke of Maren's still-hard cock, you ask, "Do we have to stop here? Maybe I can't give anymore blood, but…a second round isn't out of the question, is it?"

"Ha! Told you they could handle it, Kata." Of course, he's quick to flash that typical grin of his, lifting your chin up in pride. "Tough little thing, Y/N is. The best pet we could've asked for. Just admit it; I know how to pick 'em."

You hear the amused 'hmph' behind your ear. "That is something I can't deny."

#Katakuri x maren x reader #maren #oc #one piece #commission #sinful #katakuri #Charlotte katakuri #Katakuri x oc #mewiyev

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teabreakpancakes · 2 years

Text

Jealous? Tuberose! Jack x GN Reader

Genre: Smut

i didn't know what title to give this, sorry

oh and a baker s/o work is coming up after this one... probably, i gotta check - lawless

"I don't like Rosemary" they mumbled into Jack's scarf, digging their head deeper into his chest. A soft chuckle enters their ears as Tuberose strokes the back of their neck with an amused expression on his unmasked face.

"Dear, you do remember that we're only here because D.M ordered us to come to Bélóstáin in order to find out the secret behind her specimens?" he hummed, rubbing circles into his betrothed's back.

"I know but I don't like that you have to be so close to her, why not me instead?" they complained, removing their head from Tuberose's neck. Jack cupped their face with one of his hands, pressing a kiss to their forehead.

"Because, I don't want the other people that inhabit this island to hate you and because I don't want Rosemary to fall in love with you and your wonderful personality," he chuckled, his voice going an octave deeper as he tilts their head up so they're both staring into each others' eyes.

"and because the Ripper might get out of hand if he ever sees you being so close to someone so filthy" he added. His hand reaches for their own as he laces their fingers together, pressing a tender kiss to their knuckles.

Jack smiles at his lover, pressing their lips together gently as he slips his long tongue past their lips. He sucks gingerly on their smaller pink tongue, drawing out soft whimpers from them. Letting go of their hand, he trailed it down to the small of their back before parting from their lips.

He grinds them back and forth on his lap, smirking at their embarrassed face. "Only you can make such a mess out of me love, no one else could ever even hope to replace you" he leans down, supporting their back as he trails kisses down their neck.

A sharp tearing sound is heard in the room, (Name) shivers at the rush of cool air enveloping their entire body. Jack groans at the sight of his beloved, throwing away the ripped large shirt which was the only thing preventing him from seeing their lovely body. Eyeing their body, still littered with his bites and hickeys from their last love making session.

He lifts them up with ease, walking over to their shared bed and placing them on it gently. The bed dips when he gets on top of them, eyes trained on their body with a loving yet lustful look on his handsome face.

They bashfully cover their body, refusing to meet the hunter's gaze. Jack removes their hands, pinning them above their head. "Nuh uh, don't cover your beautiful body dear" he scolds in a lighthearted manner, waving his finger at them disapprovingly.

Their cheeks burn an even darker shade of red when he began kissing their collarbone, trailing delicate kisses down until he reached their sensitive bud. He flicks his tongue against it, gently sucking and listening to the lewd sounds leaving their mouth.

He lets go of their wrists, one of their hands flocking to grip onto his head while the other placed itself onto his shoulder. Tuberose diligently sucks on one bud, his other other hand pinching and rolling their other nipple.

Soft high pitched cries poured out of their mouth as he lowers his head to their throbbing sex, gently lapping at their dripping arousal. He presses his mouth onto the sensitive organ, sucking up all their juices fervently.

"J, Jack, I want you in me a, already" they force out with great difficulty, trying to contain their moans and cries whilst gently pulling Jack away from their genital.

"Impatient are we?" the tall man teases, sitting up and ridding himself of his own garments. (Name) ogles their husband's body, smiling a seemingly innocent smile at the thought of owning the man in front of them. 'Mine, all mine and only mine' they mused, a soft giggle leaving their pink and bitten lips.

They gesture for Tuberose to get on top of them, pulling him closer by putting their arms around his neck and their legs around his waist. They lean onto his shoulder, at least, that's what Jack thought they were doing. Tuberose's lips part, a choked moan of pain leaving his mouth.

(Name) licks the bite mark they made on his neck, pressing a soft kiss onto the mark before batting their eyelashes guiltlessly at him. "Mine, you're all mine, I'm all yours too" they say with a soft yet gleeful tone.

Tuberose grins, amused yet affectionate as he pinches their cheek. "I'm all yours, no one else's, you're all mine because I'll get rid of everyone that tries to steal you away from me" he whispers, almost growling at the very end of his sentence.

"I knowww, just fill me up already, 's too empty without you" they whine, pressing their forehead against his own. His grin melts into a smile as he aligns his large member with their hole before gently pushing in.

Moans and groans of pleasure spill out of their mouths as Tuberose bottoms out. His thrusts start off slow before he slowly began pounding them, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room along with their pleasured moans.

Tuberose reaches up with one hand, cupping their face once more. "We can go all night if your body can take it love" he promises, a lewd purr-like sound leaving his darling's mouth.

"Y, you sure sound pleased with the thought of that" he mumbles, groaning at the feeling of them tightening even more.

lawless: *googles synonyms for sex, making out and lust with a serious face*

my parents: "look at our kid, studying in advance for his next semester"

lawless: ^^; if only

#lawless.writes #idv.writing #idv tuberose #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv the ripper x reader #idv the ripper #idv jack x reader #gender neutral #idv smut

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silent-dragon · 2 years

Note

👪 (For Tarak and Gao!!)

Roderick Magnum ~ Tarak's little brother ~ Age: 15

A young half fae boy and son of Avery Magnum who is Tarak's father boyfriend currently. Its very likely if the two marry Tarak and Roderick will be brothers by marriage. Though Roderick calls Tarak brother already.

Goes by Roddy and is a aspiring boxer like his father and Tarak. Often spars with Tarak when he comes home.

Roddy kinda wishes he was a wolf too and has adopted some wolfy things Tarak does just to get the feel.

Most say Roddy is too cute to be a boxer but Tarak thinks thats his strongest thing that would make him a great boxer.

Roddy currently goes to just a normal high school as he has no interest in magic since its not allowed in the boxing league.

Roddy has started to do the pointing finger hand gesture that Tarak does as a boxer pose for pictures as a way to support his big bro.

picrew

Art by Lunitastisch on twitter

Pan Xiong ~ Gao's little sister ~ Age: 14

Adorable Panda beastgirl from Woncheon which is Gao & Pan's homeland which is a old traditional panda village.

She more modern then traditional due to the generation shift going on in the village as the youths want to be more modern while respecting traditions stll.

Pan loves to read and has taken a liking to hero/heroine stories so wants to make a difference with what she can do.

Pan always wants her brother attention to show him things she has made as she a crafter. She made the pink scarf you often see Gao wearing.

Currently Pan is going to a charm school but was only able to cause Gao enrolled into NRC and is the only male in their family currently so he had to leave the village in order to let his sister get a more modern education.

Pan is very skilled at making accessories like scarves,belts,earrings,etc so she has a quite alot of options as to what she wants to do after finishing charm school.

She is just like Gao but needs 12hrs of sleep and eats slightly less then he does. Both still will almost overeat food made by their mother who they cherish so much.

Meet My OC's Family

#asks #meet oc's family asks #twst oc #savanaclaw #Tarak #Gao

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aspenforest732 · 6 months

Text

Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 2: Battle Trial

Summary:

tw: self harm, ableism, infantilization, graphic injuries, blood, electrocution, communication access denial, ableism, negligent teacher Akira: I’d do anything to get you to leave me alone Recovery Girl: Fine, I want you to eat three square meals a day and have a healthy sleep schedule Akira: …anything but that. Best I can give you is 1.5

Notes:

'text' JSL text thoughts

“I am coming through the door like a normal person!” Akira nearly fell off their chair, thigh ramming into the side of their desk painfully as All Might burst into the room.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ Akira signed to themself and ignored a muffled squeak from their right. Of all the heroes we could’ve gotten, it had to be All Might. If I have to see one more limelight hero today… Forcing a smile onto their face, Akira watched the class explode in excitement. Tokoyami glanced at them as Dark Shadow moved beneath Akira’s arm, gently nudging it away from where it had been hovering over their left forearm.

As the class walked into Ground Beta for combat training – of course there’d be more quirk training on the first day – Akira let themself enjoy the swish of their costume strips that almost floated around them as they walked. A fairly simple design with many layers of dark lightweight fabric interwoven with non-conductive metal for protection that would help disguise their movements, Akira’s costume included a capture weapon similar in design to Eraser Head’s scarf as well as several knives and many compartments for snacks and other supplies. Braces on their ankles and knees would also help if they ran into quirk exhaustion, and Akira could already feel a bit of a difference in their pain levels. The instruction booklet even included an adjustment period section for the braces. Akria had a feeling they wouldn't be stiff enough to provide full support if they were really bad off, but it should be better than nothing.

As Akira waited next to Tokoyami for their classmates who had costumes with more complicated donning and doffing, they gave him a slight glare. He shrugged and Dark Shadow peeked over his shoulder to affix Akira with a matching glare.

They gestured to Tokoyami’s outfit and signed ‘You. Wear. Cloak. Only cloak?’

Tokoyami blushed and opened the cloak to show a t-shirt, basic pants and boots, and a utility belt. Akira silently snorted, continuing to stare. Why on earth does that constitute a hero costume? There's no way that's armored.

Akira stared as most of the class walked out with barely any protection. Does the Hero Commission want these kids to die? The least they could do is make the costumes look like they offer protection. And what the hell do Kirishima’s shoulder gears do? At least he has the excuse of a hardening quirk but oh my gods.

At some point, Akira must’ve started signing as Koda blushed and Midoriya was trying not to laugh. The latter interpreted what he did see, and Akira glared while signing ‘You are literally wearing a homemade costume. You’re worse off than the rest of them. Blank, you look great. I see you, too, went for the classiest weapon.’ That at least shut Midoriya up as Shinso looked confused and Akira turned on All Might and gestured for him to start.

The “random” teams seemed rather weighted, and while Akira wasn’t thrilled to work with little miss prissy, they weren’t just going to hand a victory to Team G. It quickly became clear that Yaoyorozu didn’t know JSL and had no intention of learning until she had to, leaving another mark against her in Akira’s book. Communication through one party writing while the other infantilized them was frustrating at best, and Akira just hoped the others appreciated how much they were trying not to strangle this girl.

Eventually, they decided to have Yaoyorozu make rubber covers for their shoes, and while Akira kept telling her to make a lightning rod as backup, the girl was sure they could take Kaminari in a fight. Akira suggested they take out Jiro to reduce Team G’s reconnaissance options, but Yaoyorozu insisted they both stay with the weapon, citing the pair as too dangerous.

I’m going to be an underground hero, damn it! I need experience… Akira smirked slightly before pretending to pout and lean against the wall next to the weapon. Warping a few inches forward, they carefully padded towards the door and put their face to the crack as All Might announced the prep time was over. Once Akira had a clear visual, they tossed up some pocket sand and teleported to the other side, padding away when they didn’t hear anything after a moment. Their boots were near-silent against the floor, and while their clone would only last for 10 minutes, they could always re-up invisibility by leaving a clone up.

Akira abruptly stopped, remembering why they had been so hesitant to actively use their quirk in the first place for the exercise as the ache in their arms increased to a throb from maintaining a clone. From below, they heard a faint crackling noise and cracked a smile. Near-silently moving towards the stairs, they kept an ear out for the crackle but started to feel the hair on the back of their neck rise and their heart stutter. This felt oddly familiar…

Shaking their head, Akira tapped their chest twice to separate their capture weapon from the tangle of chords and carefully secured it to the railing of the floor above. They needed to end this quickly. Wrapping the other end around their waist, they slowly started to lower themself, stopping when they were just above the doorway to the second floor. Tightening their grip and clenching their core, Akira lightly tossed two ball bearings onto the steps while swinging themself back towards the floor they came from.

Shit. As they swung, their arms slackened and the weapon came loose. They flung themself at the railing, slamming into the edge of the stairs with a loud CRAACK!

A field of electricity shot out from the hallway, and Akira felt like their muscles were being shredded again as it hit them. After what felt like an eternity, Akira shook out of the memory and looked down to see electrical burns covering their arms and smelled burnt hair. Pulling themself onto the stairs, Akira was dimly aware they were visible again.

While manually recoiling their capture weapon – not trusting their focus at the moment – Akira strode into the hallway where they saw Kaminari short-circuiting and Jiro unconscious on the ground with blood dripping from her ears. After confirming a pulse from the latter, Akira gently tied the capture tape to them and immediately freed them as their team was declared victorious.

Wait… Akira stared at the camera with no light indicator. Why the hell didn’t All Might call it when three of us were unconscious! They silently seethed as they marched back upstairs and aggressively wrote to Yaoyorozu they needed help getting Kaminari and Jiro to Recovery Girl.

As two of the bots wheeled Kaminari and Jiro away and a third kept pestering Akira, they aggressively signed at All Might, ‘What the hell were you thinking! Three students unconscious, one bleeding from the ears, and all cameras in the area down. Any one of those would be a reason to stop the exercise! Bakugo was fully prepared to kill Midoriya earlier, and now this? What the hell kind of teacher are you! Hell, what kind of hero are you.’

“I’m sorry, young Mori, but I need you to slow down.” All Might had the gall to look sheepish as Akira threw up their hands and gestured to Koda, the first person they saw who was proficient. Eyes wide, he froze and looked like a deer in headlights.

Slightly taken aback, Akira turned to Midoriya, who looked about as confused as All Might. Shaking their head, Akira tried to slow down as they repeated themself, but halfway through the rant, Aizawa stormed into Ground Beta with Shinso trailing behind.

Akira stuttered as they realized what fresh hell they could have gotten themself into until Aizawa stepped into All Might’s space, forcing him back. “Students, go back to class. Mori, go to Recovery Girl. Now. I need to speak with All Might,” he growled.

After a moment of shock, Ida corralled the class, and Akira let themself be sat on the first aid bot. They weren’t unconscious again, but they couldn’t quite focus on their surroundings, either. Akira longed to retreat into their mind but had the distinct feeling that would be a terrible idea.

Right. Chiyo Shuzenji. Pronouns: she/her. Call Sign: Nurse. Pro limelight rescue and recovery hero Recovery girl with Heal quirk. Unique Regenerative Brute type that only activates with mouth to wound contact, likely tied to a secondary Striker. Manufactures a line of products mixed with small amounts of her spit. Strengths: avoiding scars, quickening the healing process of minor cuts and injuries, uncanny insight into patients’ lives, ability to make anyone comfortable. Too comfortable. That’s why I can’t go. Right. Just stay present…

Distantly, Akira heard a feminine voice that sounded worried. They hoped the woman wasn’t worried about them; they’d be fine, nothing a little burn cream and painkillers couldn’t fix. Okay, maybe a lot of burn cream as they slowly felt themself pulled back to a fuller awareness. After a long moment, Akira realized their hand was on someone’s chest, and they were walking through breathing exercises. Jerking back, Akira realized a moment too late how bad that would look and tried to downplay the reaction as more startled than the terror they had felt. As their senses slowly dialed back up from zero, Akira took stock of what they could get from each, grounding themself especially with the burning tingle running up their arms.

“Good to have you with us, dearie,” Recovery Girl gently said. “Now, can you tell me how tired you’re feeling? I need to know whether you’re safe to use my quirk on.”

Akira bit their lip hard, using the pressure to remind themself… why was this bad? They shook their head even as they were trying to remember. Recovery Girl frowned, concern lacing her features, but didn’t push.

“I really would rather address the worst of the burns now to avoid scarring, but if you insist, I can give you some cream that should help reduce it over time.” Akira nodded along as Recovery Girl explained the very cream they’d been using for two years. It didn’t seem to help fade their scars, but it at least helped numb the area enough to take the edge off.

“And another thing,” Recovery Girl fixed Akira with a hard stare, making them wince. “You’re dangerously underweight for your quirk. You specifically have in your file how much you need for lunch to safely train, and yet here you are barely weighing more than you did after the entrance exam.” Her gaze softened slightly, “If you need help, ask for it. We have a counselor on staff and assistance programs for low-income households.”

Akira just nodded numbly, taking the information pamphlet they’d already poured over during their application. While they certainly met the financial requirements, they didn't exactly have an address to file the application under for assistance beyond their basic quirk accommodations.

Notes:

Akira isn't as good at analysis as Midoriya is, but they've done some prep work

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funnywiccanwritingcorner · 1 year

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Le Joyau le plus precieux - Candyfloss

Spin off of the principal story, still a Modern!AU. The main characters of these chapters comes from the 2009 live action movie “Lucky Luke” starring Jean Dujardin as the lonesome cowboy. We’re talking about Jesse James and Billy the Kid; this ship was inspired by my friends @milich96 , @thenightmaregirls and @artsarasp after we watched the movie together. Enjoy :)

Chapter I

Strolling along the Seine in the seasonal fraction between late summer and early autumn is considered by most to be a pleasant activity. The colours of the tree leaves begin to change, fading into different shades of yellow depending on the species, and the air becomes cooler. In this scenery, while a pleasant breeze rippled the surface of the calmly flowing river, different types of busy people crossed each other on the bridges: boys laughing with each other, men in suits on their mobile phones or earphones, groups of elderly ladies gossiping...

In the midst of this chaotic frenzy, a man stood staring at the Seine, leaning against the railing of a bridge, a quiet smile on his face and his chin resting in one hand for support. To the eyes of those who had time to pause and notice him, this man immediately appeared full of peculiarities: his black hair was kept short, slightly combed back; a well-trimmed beard followed his features, not too marked. His clothing was fairly sober, a suit with a long black coat on top, were it not for an even longer beige scarf that almost touched the ground. But what struck the most attentive observers was his lost gaze, distant, as if he was not actually looking at the banks and embankments as others saw them.

A girl, who broke away from her group of friends, approached the man with big, emotion-filled eyes: -Excuse me... Aren't you Jesse James, the theatre actor?- He turned to give the girl a smile: -Yes, miss.- -Unbelievable! My mother and I are great admirers of yours; we have seen all your plays! Can I ask you for an autograph?- -Certainly.- He took the small, pink-covered notebook she was handing him, together with a pen, and with a quick, precise gesture, signed a blank page in nice handwriting before returning it back to its owner. The girl clutched the notebook in her hands like the most precious of treasures: -Thank you very much! But tell me: why don't you perform as often as you used to?- -Even actors need a quiet period, Miss. By that I do not mean meditating retirement; Paris has so much to offer to performers.- -It's a relief to hear you say that. Your fans miss you a lot; no one can hold a candle to your “Richard III'!”- Hinting a bow with her head, she greeted him and then joined her friends who had stopped not far away. The actor sighed, still with a smile, and walked off in the opposite direction.

Yes, he really needed to take some time off after his last major show, which had taken place six months earlier. He had always considered himself a “stage animal”, but his physique suffered after lost hours of sleep and too inconsistent meals between rehearsals. At the end of his performance as Iago in “Othello”, he had collapsed backstage, frightening everyone; fortunately it was nothing more than a sugar crash. From then on, he had devoted himself to more modest productions, more elastic with their schedule. The theatre was always and in any case his life, and to stop performing would have been like stopping breathing.

Walking without actually looking where he was going, he found himself in a public park in the city centre. Many families were strolling in the paths and playing in the grassy areas; children were running and climbing on the playgrounds like so many little monkeys, laughing and shouting. A mime was performing his silent art with a cheerful accordion music playing in the background, via a small radio, next to a fountain; the noise of the traffic diminished but did not disappear completely as he entered the park.

A sound, however, caught Jesse's attention above the cacophony: it sounded like a music box, with a childish but catchy tune. Moving a few steps in the direction it came from, he saw a group of excited and happy children all around a bicycle cart selling all kinds of candies, from the classic toffee to candy canes; colourful lollipops were on display in large glass jars neatly placed on the countertop.

-All right, all right, one at a time!- said a male voice, a little shrill; emerging from the group of brats a boy in his twenties adjusted his red and white striped hat and with a smile made funny by two beaver incisors, he added: -Get in line, boys! First the females first; always give way to the females! And don't push!-

Jesse stood a few metres away to get a better look at him: despite his slightly unkempt stubble, the young man had a childlike face; his sandy blond hair was medium-long and dishevelled under his hat. His face was freckled, and two big blue eyes went frantically from one child to another in order to give attention to each of the little customers. Perhaps he was a little neglected, even the uniform had here and there some crudely stitched tears, but the children seemed to love him, and who could blame them, the actor thought to himself: the sweet scent of the candies spread through the air irresistibly.

-Thank you, Billy!- said the little ones in turn as they walked away with the treat they had bought, or as Jesse couldn't fail to notice that the salesman had even gifted them, along with a rectangular card, like a business card.

When the pack of brats dispersed, the young man let out a slight sigh and realised he was being watched, and perhaps in a tone a little too familiar he turned to Jesse, frowning: -Hey, man, is there a problem?-

The actor looked around for a moment: was he talking to him?

The other planted his hands on his hips: -Yes, tall man, I'm talking to you! You were staring at me, don't deny it!- -Sorry if I seemed rude. I was intrigued by the congregation of children around your cart.- -Congre- What? How do you talk?-

Indeed, Jesse could not talk formally to other people. He was even so fond of Shakespeare's writings that he ended up quoting passages he had learnt by heart in conversations. This helped him a lot in his job, but made interactions with others quite complicated.

The blond continued, looking at him suspiciously: -Are you a cop? Last time was enough for me...- -A cop?- -Yeah. A nasty, hysterical dwarf locked me in a cell all night on charges of molesting children!! Is that even possible? I love kids, but not like that!- -I can guarantee you I'm not a cop. Just a wandering actor lost in his thoughts and found himself here following the music box.- -An actor, huh? I don't think I've seen you in the movies.- -I play in the theatre.- -Ah. Never been the theatre type.-

Jesse tilted his head, intrigued rather than annoyed: that boy seemed sincere. And there was something funny about his sincerity.

-Anyway... For the record, I don't molest children. I make sweets and candy for them, nothing more. And occasionally I give them as presents. Is that a crime?- He began to gather up the various parts of the cart in order to move it. Jesse let slip a quotation; it was stronger than he was: -It only takes a drop of evil to cast an infamous shadow over any virtue.- The other raised his head as he stooped to pull up the catches of his vehicle: -What? -Uh... it was Hamlet, act one, scene four, verse thirty-eight.- The candy salesman scrutinised him thoroughly. The actor swallowed imperceptibly: he had done it again. -What did you say your name was, tall man?- This left the other interjected for a second: -I didn't say that... Jesse. Jesse James.- -Billy. Pleased to meet you.- He went back to arranging the moving parts. -Just Billy?- -You want my social security number? Everyone calls me Billy.- -I was interested in your real name.- -... You ask too many questions to be an actor. And I have to work.- He pulled up the last latch and grabbed the handlebars of the bike: -See you around.-

Jesse stopped him before he removed the stand: -Wait!- He took his wallet out of a coat pocket: -I would like to buy a candy cane, please.- Billy stood motionless for a second, continuing to look at him, then pronounced himself by placing his hands on his hips again: -I have the candyfloss-flavoured ones left.- -I'm fine with that.- -One euro, man.- Taking the coin from his small inside pocket, Jesse added: -Those cards you gave to the kids...- -I have a little shop downtown. I just opened. I advertise here in the park on weekends.- He handed him the stick and took the euro. -Could I ask for a ticket too?- -What do you do with it, man? I'll be here tomorrow at the same time, and the same time next week.- He got on his bike and rode away, almost shouting: -Besides, it's good for you to walk at your age, daddy!-

Before Jesse could reply, the blond man had ridden off at top speed with a boisterous laugh. Flaming with rage, he clutched the stick in his fist and gave it an angry bite. How could he have dared to call him an old man, that irreverent brat!

But the taste of the sweet calmed his anger: it was really good. Looking in the direction Billy had turned away, he took another taste and exhaled: that had been a very strange encounter. Stranger than those he was used to finding in the scripts. -What a curious boy...-

#lucky luke #joe dalton #morris #jesse james #billy the kid #modern au #fanfiction #joyau #spinoff #candyfloss

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mitchtheficus · 2 years

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A Golden Lovers Timeline

PART 16: HOMECOMING

it’s still Jan 28, 2018 the second night of New Beginning in Sapporo, and Cody and Hangman have just been run out of the ring by Kota. While the Golden Lovers play out their reunion, Cody takes this opportunity to pull at the frayed edges of the Elite’s bond [Post-match comments LINK, BTE ep LINK]

[ID: three gifs of the backstage comments. Matt is teary-eyed and standing supported by Nick while Cody promos at him. Cody says “Matt, are you okay? I do not understand this situation. You’ve known that guy for TEN YEARS! [then to the reporters] I appreciate you guys sticking around but this [gestures to Matt] is top priority! This is top priority! [to Nick] Let’s take care of your brother. End ID]

Pretending to care about Matt, pretending he did this to Kenny for them, playing at being concerned and compassionate

Matt is clearly distraught, he’s tearful in the post-match comments and later when the BTE guys gather in a backroom you can see him rocking back and forth trying to sooth himself while Cody goes on a tirade

[ID: the BTE guys sitting in a room. Cody is standing and speaking and gesturing. Matt is rocking back and forth and not looking at Cody. End ID]

but in spite of all Cody’s hard work, in spite of the horrible accident in the ring, the elite have not given up on each other

that night Kenny shows up at the Bucks’ hotel room, and he brings Kota with him.

[ID: four gifs. Kenny stands in front of the bucks’ hotel room door. Kota comes up beside him. Kota has like a scarf? he looks great. Then the bucks standing in their doorway, they move inviting the GLs into the room and Kenny and Kota enter. End ID]

they’re trying

(shout out to Kevin Kelly in the post Sapporo recap, saying the lovers’ relationship “certainly goes deeper and beyond friendship”)

during early February 2018 there’s kind of a holding pattern [BTE eps LINK and LINK], Cody is living his best, villainous life, feeling that all his dreams are now almost within his grasp. but he doesn’t let up on his manipulation, he knows that the bucks haven’t really given up on Kenny.

he starts pressuring them to move up to the NJPW heavyweight division (something that would put them in direct competition with the Golden Lovers) because they are “the best tag team in the world.”

[ID: picture of Cody with his arms around the bucks, saying “Think of the dream matches.” End ID]

all the other non-Cody members of BTE are conflicted and in pain, and Matt is wearing his divided loyalties on his sleeves

[ID: pictures of nick and hangman crying, and then matt looking unhappy. Matt’s shirt changes from Kenny’s BC shirt to Cody’s BC shirt. End ID]

but enough about those guys

February 2 Tokyo Sports interviews Kota Ibushi about the Golden Lovers reunion [LINK]. He clarifies that he is not part of the bullet club and will not be joining them, even tho they are now legally his stable-in-laws. When asked why he saved Kenny he answers simply, “because he’s my friend.”

“It ended once. So this isn't us picking up where we left off, it's a completely new start. I'm excited to see what we can do as a team, now both of us [are] heavyweight. I can't imagine a better tag team than us. At the same time, we spent this time apart, and did completely different things in those years. How we'll do together after that time, how well we'll gel, that's another part of it. [...] We've taken such different routes. But I think there are New Japan fans that sense a difference (in level) between us. I'm the only one that really hasn't made a mark or gotten results in New Japan. I'm not looking to Kenny for help in that regard. That's on me to rectify. Of course, I want to team with him. But I'm still a singles wrestler. I want to make my mark as a singles wrestler. As a tag [team], I'm excited to see what happens, and no doubt, cool things will happen. 2018 just got really interesting."

-Kota Ibushi, Chris Charlton translation [LINK]

just like Kenny, he’s not quite sure how this will go, but he’s committed to making it work

we get another update (Feb 13, 2018) when NJPW releases The Golden Comeback, a documentary on the GL reunion [NJPW LINK, Youtube LINK - please note that the youtube version is 15 minutes shorter and does not include most of the interview]

(Cody RTs the video and calls the GLs a “publicity stunt” saying “[Kenny’s] too selfish to love anybody” [LINK] (both bumping the docu and calling attention to the fact that the GLs are in love))

this same day Kenny likes this tweet calling Kota “that one beautiful man Kenny Omega loves unconditionally”

anyway this documentary is 30 entire minutes, and there’s just so much in it

first off, Kota makes clear before Kenny shows up that he sees this space, the private wrestling gym that he uses for practice (and has used for 10 years), as his home

[ID: picture of Kota in his personal gym. The NJPW interviewer asks “What does this place mean to you?” and Kota say “This is basically my home.” End ID]

what we’re going to witness here is a homecoming

hilariously Kota hasn’t told the NJPW film crew that Kenny is coming so they’re very surprised and confused when someone knocks on the door

[ID: gif of Kota in the doorway to his gym. He says “You’re late. Late.” Kenny laughs and replies “Sorry.” End ID]

(no big deal, just the first words we’ve heard them speak to each other in years. ‘you’re late.’ he had to wait for so long ;-; )

even more hilariously, Kota didn’t tell Kenny the film crew would be there

[ID: gif of Kenny looking around and then back to Kota and down, and he says “I thought this would be a private practice but um here we are. We have the camera crews here. [switches to Japanese] But I don't mind.” End ID]

I always wonder about this, whether he just didn’t think to tell him, or maybe he was going to if Kenny hadn’t been late, or whether it was a test, wanting to see if Kenny would still be Kenny to him in front of an audience...

but regardless of why the njpw people are there, Kenny is still Kota’s Kenny on camera. there’s a little awkwardness here and there, both of them sort of figuring out how to fall into this again, but the whole video is just filled with their soft joy and sweet giddiness at being together

[ID: gif of Kenny and Kota giggling together. End ID]

Kenny, who spent years trying to surpass Kota, switches so easily from “I” to “we,” already thinking about their future and successes as shared

one of my favorite moments is when Kenny pulls out one of Kota’s t-shirts

It’s the cutest thing in the world, the way he pulls it out, SEES WHATS IN HIS HAND and clearly gets nervous????? AND LIKE TRIES TO DROP IT ALL CASUAL???

And Kota notices immediately????

[ID: gif of Kenny looking in his bag, Kota says “Kenny...” Kenny looks up and says “Yes?” And Kota points at the shirt “Where did you get that?” End ID]

[ID: two gifs. Kenny picks up the shirt and goes “This?” Kota says “this shirt” and Kenny unfolds it and holds it up. “I brought it myself. For practice.” Kota looks at his own shirt and says “It’s my shirt!” and Kenny tells him “I wanted to dress as a team.” End ID

the “I wanted to dress as a team” and how delighted Kota is about it????

[ID: two gifs, Kenny is giggling and Kota asks “Did someone give it to you?” and Kenny tells him “I won it in an online auction.” they both crack up. End ID]

KENNY SAYING HE WON IT IN AN AUCTION AND THEM BOTH BREAKING DOWN LAUGHING???? it’s just the best

there’s all these little moments that show how much Kenny has been thinking about this, planning things out. he’s already brainstormed a new knee-based finisher, since their old finisher, the Golden Shower, is a bit more difficult now than it used to be and they need something they can do every match

(they do tease the Golden Shower during this docu and later, which makes me think they could still do it and were saving it for Something Special, but never got the chance)

and then the interview portion of the documentary begins. Kenny gives a brief account of his life and mindset since 2015, and it’s a little heartbreaking

"When Ibushi came to the ring, it was difficult at first to accept that he had noble intentions. For so long I felt so alone, that no one had the same idea of what wrestling should be. And maybe even to a degree that no one cared about me. I felt that it was just my job and my existence to give everything to wrestling. My health, my body, my soul. [...] didn't matter if I was broken."

[ID: gif of Kenny saying “And in the end to feel that someone maybe cared for me more than that...how could I turn that away?” End ID]

Kenny had just accepted that as his lot in life and then here was Kota, loving him when he had lost everything. seeing and loving Kenny the person, not The Cleaner or the Best Bout Machine

and in the face of that love Kenny couldn’t turn away forever

Kota gets asked about why he came out to help Kenny, and you can feel the years of pining in his answer, and just how badly Cody played himself by pushing Kenny into revealing how much he still cares for Kota

“Through all these years, I've always watched his matches backstage. I was watching that day. [...] Kenny did the same for me at New Years Dash. I tried to play dumb [referring to his post-match comments at NYD], but I knew what he did. Kenny...was looking out for me. It felt like the GL weren't done yet. That's what I felt that day. I was compelled to help him.”

the interviewer then asks about the choice to extend his hand after saving Kenny

[ID: the GLs sitting side by side. Kota says “It was a big deal for me. But he didn’t take my hand, at first. So, I thought maybe that it wouldn’t work out. But I didn’t want to give up so easily. I wanted to force him to acknowledge me.” End ID]

he says that he thought they could reunite "because we're the golden lovers" like it was just that simple

the way the lovers talk about each other now that they’re reunited is really something. Kenny tries to put into words what Kota is to him

"The Golden Lovers was always more than just the wrestling. That was real life. And if he just wanted to tag then that was something we would discuss in private [and then talk about to njpw] or I could make a big shpeal of it, make a big scene, give Ibushi a Bullet Club shirt, and it would be a business decision. But to me this was- this was something that had nothing to do with business. This was unrelated to Bullet Club, this was unrelated to the Elite. This was someone that I had cared about for 10 years. Someone that had helped me survive when I was in DDT. Someone that inspired me before I came to Japan.”

[ID: gif of Kenny saying “Someone who became a friend. Someone who became more than that. Sometimes in wrestling you say "business first" but this was a case when personal life was just too important to ignore.” End ID]

Kenny says that trying to change the wrestling world has been a lonely journey, "and there's not many people who can keep the pace. But Ibushi's one of them. [...] Same with the Young Bucks and that's actually why we formed the Elite. And in a way Ibushi is very much an Elite athlete, an Elite professional wrestler and I'm just happy that he's by my side.”

When asked about visiting the young bucks' hotel room, Kota says he’s “not trying to divide” Kenny and his friends. Kenny says that while Kota and the bucks might not be friends, they’re not enemies either, and that he wants badly to make things right

“I value my relationships. I don't have many real friends, but the real friends that I do have I want to cherish…we came to the room as a peace offering, and right now it's complicated, and I hope that with time we can fix that relationship.”

[PART 17] [ALL PARTS]

#kota ibushi #kenny omega #the golden lovers #goldenloverstimeline #kota came to the Elite parlay dressed to slay and i for one respect it #it cracks me up so much when kenny's like 'idk if i can do the golden triangle moonsault anymore...'#when he literally did it not even that long ago???#ask a wrestler a straightforward question and they will lie for no reason 8 times out of 10 just for the Drama of it all #mystuff #myomegagifs #mykotagifs #myGLgifs #reunitedera #golden comeback #golden lovers documentary #njpw

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the-bloody-sadist · 2 years

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Dancing With Death Chapter 6: The Golden One

Notes: FINALLY 😩✌️Yes, sorry that it took me so long to get this one out. It's 1) because it's such a fucking long chapter that needed a lot of world building and proof-reading, 2) because I'm writing like four different fan-fictions, a big story of my own besides this one, and also writing for my actual JOB, 3) because I have a second job, and 4) because I also do art both on Patreon and in general so like-- help me, I am a workaholic. Anyways BUHUHUH have fun 😉

The harem was located behind Taushin’s great tent, a marble-walled, elaborate building full of rooms, chambers for pleasures and chambers for punishments, halls for display and baths for recovery. It was a place Pets could only hate and love in the same breath. There was no in-between. The harem carried their nightmares and their comforts as one and could be anything their masters desired it to be. It was their home and their prison, a place they could never leave—perhaps a place they never wanted to leave, because they knew no other home and felt worthy of nothing outside those walls.

The filigreed wooden doors were ordered open in the dead of the night, giving way to a pair of bulky, looming figures with a slender one between them. Their shoes clacked and rattled on polished marble floors, echoing in the empty atrium that had been abandoned of their scurrying little Pets upon the noise at the gates. Guards often heralded the presence of Regals, after all.

But this night, it was only the boy—the limp, trembling boy, whose hair of fine white-gold shone in the moonlight from the windows. His feet made a skidding, papery sound as they dragged behind him, and the ragged panting of his breath filled the silence otherwise.

“Come into the light, you flighty creatures,” one of the guards called gruffly, his face inked by shadows under the scarf on his brow. He turned his head about in slow, sweeping gestures, the gems of his eyes glittering like onyx as he searched for their figures. “We’ve brought you your Golden One.”

The atrium was not as empty as it would seem. The Pets were not absent, only hiding behind silks and tapestries and pillars, keeping out of the light of the candelabras on the wall. Like the crawling, wary materialization of tiny forest nymphs, they emerged from these places now with craned necks and wide eyes.

“Angel,” passed the whisper about the group, behind painted hands and the jingle of jewelries. “It’s Angel!”

Among them was Minx, coming forward with a start, his usual meekness gone under the wake of concern for his friend. The guards regarded him neutrally enough, handing over their burden as soon as the boy opened his arms.

“My poor Angel, my poor Angel,” he said in hushed distress, taking the Golden One in both arms and using all of his strength to support him as he slumped forward, groaning. “He has turned you away tonight? He has sent you to me?”

Angel was hardly more than coherent, clinging to Minx and dazed with weakness. He could not bring words to answer his friend, and only pressed closer into his bare, warm shoulder, to hide his face inside of his neck. His arms were bruised from where the guards had gripped him, and now they throbbed with release of that pressure, aching to the bone and tender when Minx touched them.

“Thank you,” Minx meekly greeted the guards, bowing with Angel’s body clasped to his chest, the fine chains of his outfit tinkling.

The barefooted figures of the other Pets shifted about, every eye on the guards for tricks or deception. But there was none, only the grunt and retreat as they turned for the exit.

Angel did not lift his face, only heard the clack of their boots as they left. He made a soft noise, half to communicate with Minx, half to hear his own relief. Now, he was safe, he was truly, truly safe.

“I’m sorry, Angel,” Minx murmured, and there was an urgency and desperation to his tone that made him tingle. “I tried to hold my tongue. Please, believe me. I promise I did.”

Minx thought he was responsible for this? He should know by now that Angel would never blame him. Angel knew Taushin’s ways. He knew the things the man did to Minx.

No, he would never, never blame him.

Angel grasped his hand with some difficulty and rubbed his thumb over Minx’s knuckles, nodding his head against the boy’s soft skin.

He felt Minx’s tightened muscles relax a bit, but he was struggling with Angel’s weight, and Angel tried with all his might to stand. But everything in him was too exhausted. He only collapsed again, causing his friend to lose balance and stagger back.

“Can’t…m-move…sorry…” he whispered.

“No, no!” Minx reassured him, struggling to keep them upright. “It’ll be alright. Someone—Jaguar—help me with him?”

Angel heard a scuff of feet. The strong shape of the Pet named Jaguar was there in seconds, tilting his head at Angel and not smiling, as usual. His hair was black, falling straight and carelessly across metal-colored eyes. His muscles were toned and firm—not overly bulging, as Taushin did not prefer bulky Pets—but a lean, fit athleticism that gave him a fighting chance at winning Ring games. His skin was a rich amber, marking him as an imported Pet from Isles further south. There were tattoos engraving his shoulders, a curling, flowery pattern of lines that had been cut into him and filled with ink.

Angel went gratefully as Minx transferred him over to Jaguar’s care, falling back. The strong arms picked him up with support under his knees and middle-back, which brought both a shuddering cry from Angel at the smart of his wounds and a replying distress from Minx.

“Gods, Jaguar, careful where you touch! He’s injured!”

Angel’s dropped his head back, eyes screwed in pain. His breath rasped in quick pants, but Jaguar only pulled him a little closer, murmuring, “I don’t want him to fall. It’s hard carrying dead weight.”

“Please be gentle,” Minx implored him, and Angel felt his soft hands along his body, tickling his side and thigh. “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m so sorry.”

Angel couldn’t speak for the pain, blinking at the bleary, upside-down shapes of other the Pets watching him. His limbs felt leaden and dead.

“We should take him to the baths,” Jaguar said lowly, “we can tend to him best there.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Minx told all the others, “there’s no need to worry.”

Murmurs of disdain and concern alike filled the atrium as Angel was carried from it, Minx coaching Jaguar with every step, making him go slow and carefully through the halls. Angel could hear it all as if underwater, feeling the sensations on his skin only from a great distance.

“It’s not going to help anything,” Jaguar was arguing, “he’s bleeding out all over the place and we need to hurry.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, he’s not bleeding out! You’re making it worse. Slow down, slow down.”

“Minx, he’s heavy. The blood makes him slippery—I’m going to drop him if I don’t hurry.”

A cry of distress from Minx, and then his little hands leaving Angel’s body. “Go, then, go!”

Angel wasn’t sure if he lost consciousness at that point or simply pulled away from the throbbing agony, but he only roused again when he felt the cloying moisture of the bath chambers, humid with steam and fragrant with rose petals.

His body was lowered until there was liquid lapping around his feet and ankles, hot enough to make him inhale. “Mmh—” He tried to lift his head. He saw the blurry picture of veils and white pillars about him, the rectangular pools of water reflecting stars.

Minx’s soft, cold-fingered hands were on his ribs again, guiding him as Jaguar lowered his form into the water up to his waist, resting his seat against a marble step.

It hurt, but there was so much pain to be had already that it didn’t quite matter that it did, and Angel could only whimper and sink towards Minx’s waiting arms, resting against his friend’s chest. Being in the water was relieving. It made his arms light, and sitting wasn’t as difficult with the weightlessness that supported him. With breaths rasping in his throat, he tried to relax as much as he could, undoing the knots of tension from his muscles one by one while Minx stroked his face and fingered his hair with wet, tender hands.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, again and again—the same mantra that Angel repeated to himself when Minx wasn’t around to say it. But only when he was truly safe. The moments were rare, they were not to be missed, and it was the portions of time like this that Angel had to work to give his mind a rest, so that it would not break under the pressure of his life. “You’re safe…”

He heard Jaguar behind him, preparing dressings and salves—he heard the jars clink against the floor and the swish of cloth bandages. He saw the water, poisoned crimson with his blood where Minx’s slender body disappeared in refracted images of the night sky. The agony caused by the dark Pet’s touch was nearly unbearable, when it inevitably came—not because it was a worser pain than what he’d suffered within the recent days, but because he knew that this pain did not serve to please anyone. And what was the use in pain that did not make others smile? What was the use in suffering for himself? He was fashioned ever so carefully to suffer for others, to live for others, to be miserable so that others might be joyful.

His pain only made Minx sniffle and Jaguar curse under his breath. So Angel tried—he tried as hard as he could—to hold it back. He clenched his fists in the water until they shook; he gritted his teeth and focused on the fingers that danced along his face. Safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.

He was not worthy of crying out when his Master was not here to indulge in it.

Water was scooped over his wounds, his hair—Minx even cupped it against his face, kissing Angel’s brow and cheeks and washing away the sweat of torment with empathetic, pink eyes. All the while, the mantra was repeated, safety, security, the false sense of comfort in the arms of his friend.

Soon enough, they had finished with him, and Angel was exhausted enough to begin to weep.

“Angel, Angel,” Minx soothed, wrapping him with lithe arms around the golden collar, “my Angel, how he must have wounded you tonight…” There were kisses at his ear, beneath his curls, too soft to be given to Angel, and more painful than the wounds Minx spoke of.

He shook his head into Minx’s neck, whispering, “No matter…”

“I wish that he would choose some other soul to torment.”

Angel did not wish to think about such things. He did not wish for anyone to have the burden that he could handle well enough.

Touching Minx’s slick thighs beneath the water, he murmured, “Burns…?”

He felt Minx’s hands tremble a bit against his whipped shoulder blades, and the tremulous sound that left his friends lips fell against his ears. “Not as many as I should have taken to protect you,” he mourned, and Angel’s chest tightened as more tears came.

“Please,” he begged the boy, doing his best to pull back so that he could look into Minx’s eyes and communicate his insistency.

Minx was hesitant to meet his gaze, white lashes flicking about over the pink orbs. Angel could see the memory of fire inside of them, burning and tormenting his friend even now. “I know, Angel,” he said softly. “I knew that you would want me to tell him quickly.”

Angel weakened again, sinking back to embrace Minx, head tucked below the boy’s chin. “Good-d…”

Minx absently rested careful hands over Angel’s bandages in return, speaking to Jaguar—who sat on the edge of the bath, hands in his lap as he dangled his legs in the water.

“Jaguar could handle it so much better, if Taushin would have him. Jaguar has a heart of stone.”

Angel’s eyes slid to find the metal-colored ones, shimmering with the reflected starlight. The pools of water sent wavering ripples of it along his features. He scoffed a little and shook his head, making the piercings in his ear jingle. “Taushin prefers the sensitive ones, the ones who make plenty of noise.”

Angel dropped his gaze. He was right. Jaguar had been imported and trained here, but he’d been designated for the market, and had the high prospect to be the Pet of another Regal who was a close partner of Taushin’s. He was not particularly of Taushin’s taste. He hardly made a sound when he was beaten.

Minx stroked his hair, shifting them and murmuring, “You are sleeping with me tonight, Angel? Yes?”

He nodded sluggishly. It had been some time since he’d been back to the harem, though, and there was someone he desperately wanted to see. “Khoi…” he croaked.

There was a hesitant silence, and Minx helped Angel rise out of the water with Jaguar standing to assist before he answered. “He’s alright.”

Angel’s legs burned; his back was tight with medicine and wrappings, his lower half still exposed due to the nature of the injuries being unable to be bandaged. “I want to see him,” he said shakily.

Jaguar and Minx traded a glance, each one taking an arm to keep Angel steady. Their height difference—Jaguar being at least a head taller than both of them—made it lopsided. Angel’s fingers began to tingle as they seemed to debate telling him something awful. Was Khoi alright? Had someone injured him further? Had someone mistreated him? Had he died?

“I want to see him,” Angel said with blurry desperation, looking between them with widened eyes. He felt a little breathless.

“I think that you should rest now, Angel,” Minx said gently, “and see him in the morning.”

“No,” Angel begged. What was wrong? Taushin had bade him to return in the morning. He had to see him now.

Jaguar wrapped an arm around Angel’s back, making him turn to the darker boy, frantic. “Nothing is wrong,” he intoned. “But you look only half-coherent right now, and it would be best for you to lie down. Neither of us know what Taushin will demand of you, come morning.”

“No!” The words scraped at his throat. Angel was insistent on this matter, his throat tight and aching. All he asked was that they let him see Khoi. He did not want to sleep—he would not sleep—without seeing him.

Jaguar’s eyes fluttered, and he sent Minx a helpless glance, sighing.

“Angel—” Minx tried.

“No, no, no,” Angel whined softly, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “Please. Khoi. I want to see Khoi.”

“It’s alright, Minx,” Jaguar said. “We’ll take you, Angel. Hold on.”

“It’s not good for him,” Minx argued.

“He’ll be fine.”

A sigh of frustration. “You’re not the one who holds him when he weeps through the night afterwards, and soothes him when he wakes up screaming!”

The words echoed in the bath chamber, bouncing off the water. Angel winced just hearing it aloud, shrinking in their grips and hiding his face in shame. “Sorry,” he whimpered, shoulders around his ears, “I’m sorry.”

“Minx, you ass,” Jaguar hissed.

Minx caught Angel up against him, crying out, “No, no, I don’t mean it like that! Oh, Angel, no…I just don’t want you to put yourself through such things.”

With his face hugged against Minx’s shoulder, Angel made a soft noise, unable to shake the guilt that it caused.

“We’re going, Angel. You have my word,” Jaguar said kindly.

“Mmh…”

<<••>>

Khoi was lying on the same padded, embroidered cot that he was always lying on, amongst the draperies of silks that veiled his sickly white body like crimson and gold fog. They had given him his own private chambers out of reverence and care. They all treasured Khoi, but Angel more than any of them.

He softly asked Jaguar and Minx to let him go in alone, and—used to the ritual that Angel never failed to adhere to—they respectfully bowed their heads and steadied Angel on his feet, before unlatching the heavy drapery that served as the chamber’s door.

Angel kept a hand on the wall to steady himself, squinting in the low, filtered orange candlelight. There were heady fragrances burning in jars on mounted shelves, white lilies sprinkled about the floor, and the gentle, plucking hum of a melancholy lyre, strummed by a young Pet who sat in a shadowed corner.

It was arranged nearly as a grave or a shrine to the dead, and it fit the figure who lied amongst it, asleep—or so it would seem to the unobservant eye. But Khoi was not asleep, as his dark lashes moved here and there with sluggish, heavy blinks, and the tiniest shimmer of his milk-white eyes could be seen beneath them.

His skin was a translucent white, ocean-green veins showing along the wrists and forearms that draped against his frail, bare torso. There was a sheet pulled up to his hips, covering the rest of him in white like a burial shroud. His hair was dark, streaked with greys and whites that did not belong to a boy of his age—yes, only a boy, still, of twenty-three years, and dying. His lips were fine and parted to take in rasping breaths, but when he heard the swish of Angel’s unsteady feet on the stone, the white irises turned to him, and the faintest shadow of a smile fell over his drawn, hollowed features. “Angel,” he said, sweetly, though his voice was hardly a voice at all anymore, rubbed raw to the very chords from years of screaming.

“Hello,” Angel greeted him quietly, brows skewing with concern as he leaned against the bedside, taking a seat on the plush cot. It felt much better to sit down, and he found he had a bit more strength to last him a cursory drift of fingers through Khoi’s hair, soft and well-groomed by the Pets who took care of him. The dark pupils of his eyes were full as they fixed on Angel. Many had considered Khoi blind on first glance, seeing the milky glisten of his irises. But it was only a rare strain of genetics that made them that color, and if Khoi struggled with anything, it certainly wasn’t his eyesight.

A cold, bony set of fingers slid over Angel’s hand as it rested on the bed, and he turned it palm-up to accept Khoi’s, closing it inside of both his warmer ones.

“Thank you,” Khoi croaked, “for coming to see me.”

Angel looked down at his fragile hand, tracing the pronounced tendons and knuckles with a practiced, soothing motion that he knew Khoi found relaxing. “I’m sorry that it’s been a while.”

“No matter,” Khoi dismissed him, shaking his head slightly. A cough, gurgling with what must be blood, wracked the Pet’s fragile body, then, sending Angel’s heart into a panicking flutter. “The days…ngh, are all the same…to me.” It seemed he tried to smile again, after this, but then his eyes flickered quite suddenly over the expanse of Angel’s body, taking in the bandaging and the washed cuts and widening with alarm.

Empathy, Angel knew.

“What has he done to you this time, my sweet?” Khoi whispered, touching Angel’s thigh so very gently that it made Angel wince.

He kept his face lowered, fidgeting with Khoi’s fingers and keeping his shoulders arched near his ears. “Nothing compared to what he’s done to you.”

“No,” Khoi murmured, “tell me, Angel. Tell me what he has done with my darling sapphire. You look so sad, today.”

That Khoi would ask so earnestly about Angel when he was like this—it tore through his heart like the claws of scrabbling foxes. More than any words of Taushin’s, worse than the Regals he’d been given to for sport, Khoi’s words always struck him the deepest pain. Because Khoi cared for him. Khoi knew more than anyone else. Khoi heard all of Angel’s deepest, most terrifying thoughts, all his sins, all his fears. Khoi knew enough to destroy Angel with the flick of a finger, and yet he kept all these things hidden in his heart, away from any Master that would twist it into torment.

Angel spoke to no one like he did to Khoi. Only Khoi heard all the little words he expressed through his body language in public.

“He was angry with me. There is a visitor here from the North, a 2nd Emissary.”

“Oh? How far North? As far as Minx’s home?”

“Not so far,” Angel said, “Dorne.”

“Dorne…” A wistful, nostalgic aura took Khoi’s eyes into the past for a moment. Yes, even he had dreamt of Dorne, just as much as the other Pets. It was near enough to heaven, compared to Gailda. “There are such kind people up there.”

“He is very kind,” Angel said, softer now, and turning his gaze more intently to their hands.

“But not kinder than you deserve,” Khoi whispered in a rattle, his eyes darkening as Angel shied away from it. It was a common practice of his to dole out opposites of Taushin’s derogatory statements, something that Angel could not bear to hear—something that Khoi refused to stop doing.

“I do not think it will last,” Angel told him.

“But why was he angry with you, my sweet?” he pressed, with some trepidation.

“Minx was given to him the first night. And when he came back, he was not bruised or bleeding. He was smiling. Smiling, Khoi…s-so…so I asked him—I asked him if the Emissary had been kind. If he’d been…gentle.”

Khoi’s dark lashes drooped. He shifted his head to look past Angel, at the far wall where the incense burned on the protruding shelves. “That is all, then? The only reason he would punish you so harshly? Perhaps he has gotten worse, after all.”

“No, Khoi,” Angel whispered, beginning to feel the familiar burn of shame in his cheeks and throat. “No, he is the same. He is only—he was still angry. I…I ran away again, a fortnight ago.”

Khoi turned back to him sharply, quick enough to trigger another bout of gurgling, sickening coughs. When it was done, he was wheezing, and Angel’s chest was tight with phantom pain. “Oh, darling sapphire…” He feebly squeezed Angel’s fingers, and Angel felt cold stretching through the pit of his stomach. “Why must you do that to yourself? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Angel said tremulously, shifting on the bed and looking elsewhere. “He likes th-the game. It…it keeps him focused on me, so he won’t hurt…” Angel fought to keep his voice steady, to keep speaking. “…so he won’t hurt the others.”

He could feel Khoi gazing at him with those milky eyes, he could see in his head how the dark brows skewed with anguish over Angel’s awful decisions.

“You are already his Golden One,” Khoi said, “he hurts you enough. You must stop. You must, Angel. Please.”

“I can’t,” Angel nearly spat out, and then touched his mouth with his hand, as if to punish the act himself, for daring to utter something not honeyed and sweet. “There is something about it that I like, too. He wants me back. He wants me so badly that he sends all of his men after me, and he gets so…so angry, Khoi, the look in his eyes—” Angel went silent momentarily, his mouth parted still with the words sticking to his tongue, seeing the murderous flash of golden eyes in his head, as sharp as the end of the blade he dragged across Angel’s skin. “—there is nothing like it,” he whispered. “And when I go, I feel so empty without him. I don’t know what to do with myself. There is nothing, nothing for me but to wait for the guards to find me. And then he hurts me, and I remember what it is like to love him when I am my weakest, and I feel…” He blinked rapidly. “…I feel right again.”

Khoi’s eyes were fixed on their hands when Angel finally found the courage to look at him. There were tears clinging to his eyes and lashes.

“Khoi,” Angel mourned, starting forward with pain in his lungs, “What is it, what have I said to upset you?” He took the Pet’s face in both of his hands, bending to press his lips against the hollowed-out cheeks again and again in frantic apology.

Khoi raised his hand to cover Angel’s, pushing against his chin so that he could look him in the eyes. “I know, Angel,” he said. The skin beneath his eyes tightened. “I know.”

I know what it feels like.

Khoi remembered. He remembered the feeling of being Taushin’s Pet. It made the tension leak out of Angel’s muscles when he heard it, dragging down his limbs and pulling him towards the bed, where he lay quietly for a long time against Khoi’s thin shoulder, gazing at the silks that hung about them while Khoi absently stroked the fine lines of his tummy.

“Sometimes, he forgives me, Khoi,” he breathed, watching his words float away among the incense in the air. “He has mercy. He breaks down, sometimes. He holds me very close to him, sometimes, and says things that Masters should not say. And the more that I run, the more chances I have that he’ll do it again. I think that it makes him just a little desperate.”

Khoi continued to move his fingers soothingly, humming under his breath in sorrowful understanding.

The lyre strummed on, the only other sound for a long, long while. They dozed beneath the blanketed warmth of the music, mingling inside of one another’s thoughts, their shared experiences, their similar torments.

“It will never be enough, my darling sapphire,” Khoi rasped eventually, and his voice was more frail than it had been before. “It will never last.”

Angel’s lip trembled and he screwed his eyes shut. Just let me pretend that it will. Let me dream that it can.

It was the one thing that Angel clung to for dear life.

<<••>>

Minx was there to hold Angel when he came from Khoi’s room, the drapery swinging behind him, every limb in his body melting like butter from his spine.

With Minx’s soft embrace and the tender voice in his ear, Angel should have felt better. But he did not.

“Come, my Angel,” he cooed, “let us go, now. Let us sleep and forget.”

Angel did not speak or lift his head. He did not nod or move. He hardly even opened his eyes. He just let his friend pull him along down the long, sparkling halls, past the whispering, colored silks, the jingling, nimble footsteps of other Pets.

Sleeping quarters were spacious, but the darkness there Angel feared would swallow him up, devouring his soul before morning. Coming back to the harem always put his mind in the past, among the draconic silhouettes of blackened Trainers who no longer had faces in his mind, among the restricting chains and the debilitating agony, among the continuous screams and the unending fight just to remember who he was. To remember why he was fighting, why he was alive, why they would not let him die.

And now, being Taushin’s Golden One, it only garnered him pockets of opened space around the hanging cot Minx would share with him, Pets scurrying away either in reverence or disdain—neither of which mattered to him. It was only that they did make space, as if he were different from them. Some of them looked on in guarded pity, others in abject suspicion. He knew most feared that he was only sent here to relay their actions to the 1st Regal, a spy and a tattletongue who would not hesitate to give them up.

It made him droop even more in their presence, sinking towards Minx’s protective guidance. He could hear the whispers passing about like the hiss of slithering snakes, silenced only at the sharp behest of a few of the older boys. Angel did not blame them. He blamed only their Trainers and their Regals. He blamed only Taushin, for he was certain it was a deliberate isolation, to assure that Angel would not gain some kind of following, of boys who would turn on their Masters and cause an uprising. Thus, it was necessary that Angel remain a sort of fugitive among them.

Minx was gentle and careful in helping Angel into the hanging blue cocoon that served as his cot. There was a small bedding made up inside it to flatten out the base so it would not cling so tightly to their bodies.

Angel held his breath while trying to pull himself into it, stifling any sounds that the others would hear. He settled into the cool pillow with a shuddering sigh of relief, wrapping his arms around his naked, bandaged body.

Minx quietly undid the bits of drying tulle from his own waist and arms, undressing in utter silence.

The other boys in the murky, humming chamber began to settle down themselves, eyes glittering out of the dark towards Angel and Minx in wary, narrowed glances. They would haunt him all the night, Angel knew. He dreaded it.

He had more that kept him from shutting his eyes when Minx crawled into bed behind him, shushing Angel’s mewling sounds with gentle kisses and wrapping his body inside of warmer, kinder arms. It stung his back to have it pressed against Minx’s chest, but he was used to such discomforts, and it was nothing in the wake of his friend’s soothing coo, the words spoken mutedly against the shell of his ear to distract Angel from his own thoughts.

“Shall I tell you about him again?” Minx pulled up a soft blanket until it was covering their waists. The touch of their skin—Minx’s heated against his cold—served as a good sensation to focus on while Angel tried to loosen his stiff muscles. While he tried to think of something other than the fragile skin of his forearms and wrists. How they might tear. How they might release him.

“Shall I tell you what it was like?”

Angel felt dull as he stared into the glittering eyes of the boys in the darkness, seeing only what Minx’s smile must look like. He let out a faint, weary keen of affirmation.

“He was gentle and strong, and didn’t use a thing that Taushin sent him in the box.” Fingers found their way up Angel’s arm, his shoulder, his neck, until they stroked the line of his jaw and his cheekbone, tickling over the rim of his ear. “He spoke only sweetly, and when he took me, he didn’t force me into the sheets, or suffocate me, or grip me by the neck.” Minx played with his earrings, tugging ever so slightly at times. It made pleasant blooms of sensation down Angel’s spine.

Minx went on with his tale like a mother might sing a lullaby, sweetly and hushed for Angel’s ears alone. “His voice only encouraged me, his kisses only warmed me, and he was so sorry, so sorry, he said, when it was over…and I feared that I had not been enough…”

Angel felt his mouth begin to twist and tremble. He inhaled a soft, shuddering breath. He thought of Khoi, broken and dying on that bed among the incense, never knowing a kind noble, never hearing such sickening, wonderful words. That must be his end, too, he knew, as Emery could say all that he liked from a distance, but would never be near him like he’d been with Minx.

Taushin would never let him, as much as he teased and flaunted Angel before him. Taushin would never let Angel grow attached.

Minx’s voice purred on in the stillness. “…but it was not that I had not pleased him, and so strange, Angel, so strange…it was only that he wanted me to like it too. He wanted me to be pleased more than he wanted pleasure for himself. He wanted me to be safe, and go unharmed…. And his eyes, Angel, how you should have seen his dark eyes fill with concern for me. For me, can you imagine it? Ah, what a thing…”

All that Angel saw were the golden eyes of his Master, flashing and furious, the way that he’d described it all to Khoi. They were his cage, as visible to him as the collar that was locked about his neck. The most he could do was gaze between the bars, reaching out for the watery hallucination of Emery of Dorne, smiling down at him as if he were truly a human being, something to be valued, something to be protected.

He looked at Angel as if there were some chance in all the hells that a Pet could yearn for something his Master could not give him, a hope that he could perhaps touch, if not accept, a mercy from someone else, someone who would not award that mercy only after so much pain—but freely, right away, demanding nothing in return.

Angel began to weep, unbidden, and Minx—used to it by now, after so many revisits to the harem that ended in the same way—buried his mouth against Angel’s shoulder and held him very close, murmuring comforts against his skin. This pain in his lungs went on for some time, his thoughts plagued by the anxieties of what the morning would bring him.

Master was displeased. Master was disappointed. Master was irritated.

He could not—he could never—take respite in the nights without him. And it distressed him so greatly that this was so. Being away from Taushin only made him nauseous with anticipation, counting down the moments until he was back in those gloved hands, screaming for mercy that would not come. Pain could not be had without him to oversee it, and pleasure could not be felt if he wasn’t giving it.

And so, all that Angel could do was drown in his own misery, trying to claw into the skin of his arms and refrained from even that release by his friend’s restrictive grasp.

He wasn’t sure when his waking mind blurred with the realm of sleep, but it did not last more than an infinite stretch of darkness before it was eaten up with the terror of nightmares. His Trainers became the monstrous shadows on the wall, pulling him every direction and stretching his limbs apart, forcing things through and inside and across and around him until he could only thrash and scream awful, soundless screams. And Taushin, with his eyes of gold burning in the darkness, stood before them all and watched like a malignant cobra, deadened to his Pet’s anguish and too far to cling to.

When he burst from it shrieking in inconsolable terror, it was Minx, only Minx, with his arms around Angel, but he felt there was nothing else but to shriek and sob his voice away, so that he’d no longer have to hear the voices in his dreams, and the suffocating silence of his Master.

(Next) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Yey. :) Hope you liked. Nice to meet you, Khoi. You'll get to learn specifics about him soon, so I hope you're looking forward to it! <3 For now, mystery boi Khoi. (and originally his name was spelled Koi but then I saw the way the English VA for Albedo in Genshin spelled it and I just...really liked it.) Tags! Did you miss me?: @hackles-up (I believe this is who was previously @what-a-whump ?) @boxboysandotherwhump @seasaltandcopper @abitefullofwhump @whump-cravings @thats-my-type-writer @darklyria @ashintheairlikesnow @luna-rein @whumptywhumpdump @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @dragonninjavampire @whumpy-writings @shameless-whumper @also-finder-of-rings @ohwhumpydays @whump-world @outofangband @whump-cravings @10000ducks-whump @whumpiary @sadomasochistic-whump @insaneinthepaingame @straight-to-the-pain @whumpwillow @gatheringofsuffering @sideblogformindtrash @newbornwhumperfly @sadistgalore @yet-another-heathen @peterrose @cupcakes-and-pain @writingbackwards @i-gently-open-the-door @bloodandbandages @ocean-blue-whump @wingedwhump @meetmeinhellcroutons @jcwriting @kiretto-laorentze @thatonekidnamedrin @whumpawink @nicolepascaline @zoewhumps @mylifeisonthebookshelf @wolfeyedwitch @whumpfessional @batfacedliar @whump-tr0pes

@meetmeinhellcroutons and @whumpkinpie I think you’re the two whose names have changed. Let me know :)

If you’d like to be added/removed, just ask! :D

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Note

diluc with number fifteen !! currently imagining being able 2 carry him home but it can go either way :-) (if u dont mind obvi, congrats on 1k !!! )

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ please disregard any spelling errors or anything that doesn't make sense in this. my friends and i have been taste testing drinks for this week <3 iykyk

prompt 15: “Please put me down. It’s just a sprained ankle."

Dragonspine was much harder to hike than Albedo led on. As you wondered why Albedo couldn't take care of this rescue mission in the first place, you continued to heave yourself up the mountain. You wore two jackets, a fluffy hat, a scarf Noelle knitted you, and a pair of snow boots that were a size too small.

It was hard for you to appreciate the beauty of Dragonspine through your foul mood. Despite being surrounded by crystallizing snow and huge trees that towered over you, you could only pull your scarf tighter and focus on the path ahead of you.

You made it to the top of the mountain after hours. A plateau was carved into the tip and you practically ran to the lit fire, rubbing your hands together.

"Did you come here to save me?"

You whipped around, startled by the sound of a (very) sarcastic voice. Sitting on a manmade stone bench with his leg up beside him was Diluc - the man you were sent to find by Jean.

"You scared me!" You complained, refusing to move from the fire for just a while longer. Diluc was dressed in similar attire to you but you assumed his pyro vision kept him warmer than you. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold.

"Didn't mean too," Diluc said honestly, his tone returning to normal, "Sorry about that."

Instead of accepting his apology, you placed your hands on his hips. "You know, we all thought you died."

Diluc rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you. "About that," He gestured to the leg that was propped up, "I hurt my ankle last night. I thought the swelling would go down by this morning but I think it's worse."

That made sense. Diluc was strong and would never go somewhere he knew he wouldn't make it out of. You finally stepped away from the fire and moved close to Diluc, sitting on the unoccupied spot on the bench. You were careful to avoid his leg, "Can you walk?"

"Hardly," He answered flatly, "I was hoping you'd come with a healer but alas, I guess I'll freeze here."

You furrowed your eyebrows and pouted, "Hey! I can help you down the mountain myself."

At this, Diluc laughed in your face. Feeling a surge of confidence, you jumped up from the bench. Without warning him, you lifted Diluc up from the bench. His laughter died abruptly and you gripped his legs and torso tightly.

“Please put me down. It’s just a sprained ankle.

"Yeah, a sprained ankle that you can't walk on."

Diluc's cheeks grew even more red but not from the cold. A ride on your back would have been appreciated but he knew you wouldn't budge. Accepting his fate, he slung his arm around your shoulder to support some of his weight.

As you slowly walked down the mountain, you let out a chuckle. "You're like a princess," You remarked, "And I'm your knight in shining armor."

Diluc covered his mouth with his free hand. "Great," He mumbled. He didn't realize it was possible to feel even more flustered.

The best thing about carrying Diluc down Dragonspine was that you now had a personal heater. Diluc's body was incredibly warm compared to the brisk air of the mountain and you loved it.

Diluc was silent for most of the walk but you were not. In fact, you didn't shut up the entire time. You talked Diluc's ear off about who know's what but, surprisingly, Diluc didn't hate it. He liked the sound of your voice.

He wasn't great with his emotions and he couldn't pinpoint the feeling that was coursing through his veins but he knew that it felt exciting. But before Diluc could do anything about this new feeling, you broke through the cold and he was being placed on a cot at the camp at the bottom of the mountain.

"Do you want me to leave or stay?"

Diluc glanced up at you. A healer was coming to tend to his injury and you awkwardly stood in front of his cot, finally removing your scarf and hat. He moved over slightly and patted the spot next to him, "You can stay."

#genshin #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin self insert #genshin drabble #genshin writing #genshin diluc #diluc #diluc x you

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Words Whispered in the Dark

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6250🙈

Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much.

Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)

A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.

A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).

Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.

Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.

You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.

Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.

Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.

So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.

Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.

Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--

Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.

“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.

Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.

Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.

“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.

Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.

Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.

Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.

Was it?

“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.

Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.

He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.

The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.

A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.

Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.

Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.

“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.

It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.

Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.

It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.

“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.

Fuck. Shit. Okay.

“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.

You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.

“Bed. Now.”

Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.

It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.

He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.

“What is it, babygirl?”

His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.

You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”

His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.

“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.

You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.

“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.

Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.

“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.

Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.

Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him. You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.

Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.

It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.

“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.

“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.

“Or what?”

He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.

“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.

“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.

“I don’t follow--- oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“

You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.

“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”

“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.

“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“

“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”

From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.

“Uhm… Waterloo?”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.

You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.

“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.

Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.

“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”

“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”

“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.

“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.

His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.

“You changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.

“Fuck-“

“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.

Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.

You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.

“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.

Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…

Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.

You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.

As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.

You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.

Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.

When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.

Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.

The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.

Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.

Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.

“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.

“Shit, sweetheart-“

The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.

Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.

Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.

“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.

“Christ- don’t stop--“

“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.

Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock--- if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.

So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.

“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.

You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.

“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”

“You little-“

His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.

Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.

A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”

Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.

Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.

Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.

So fucking pretty like this.

And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.

Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.

Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.

Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.

“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.

The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.

“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.

Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.

“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.

He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.

You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.

Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly. You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.

You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.

For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.

Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.

Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.

“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”

Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.

You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.

He was wrong.

“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.

“Babygirl—”

“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”

He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.

You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.

“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“

You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.

Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.

You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.

He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.

Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.

Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.

If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.

You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.

You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.

Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.

You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”

A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.

“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”

“W-what?”

“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”

Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.

Fuck.

You were so busted.

Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.

Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?

Right. No.

Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.

Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.

Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.

“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.

“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.

You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.

“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.

“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”

Oh fuck, here it came.

For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.

It’s only fair, no? he had said.

It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.

Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.

Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.

“Y—yes, it is.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”

And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.

He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”

His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.

Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.

“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.

“Y- yes.”

“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.

Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.

And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.

Attached masterlist

S.R. masterlist

I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.

But I hope you enjoyed anyway. I mean, if you made it to the end…

Thank you for reading :-*

Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann

P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #professor steve rogers #LEMONS #mind the warnings #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america au #college au #modern au #wrong attachment au #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #attached #words whispered in the dark #anika ann

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archaeopter-ace · 3 years

Text

Weekend At Danny’s

Ectober Day 27 – Burial

#corpse au

Danny had just finished knotting his tie when his ghost sense went off. “Ah crud.” He looked at the clock, swore more vociferously, then looked at Sam and Tucker. “Guys, I know this is a huge ask, but I need you two to support me in my time of grief.”

Sam and Tucker shared a knowing glance, sighed in unison, then nodded.

They waited until the Fenton parents had left for the funeral before hauling Danny’s body down the stairs and shoving it into the backseat of Jazz’s car.

When she saw what they were doing, she threw her hands up. “Seriously?!”

“Not our idea!” Tucker defended. “But we don’t have time to argue.”

He was right, though that didn’t stop Jazz from muttering under her breath all the way to the funeral home, where the service for Great Aunt Mildred was being held.

Upon arrival, they propped Danny’s body between Tucker and Sam and belted each of his legs to one of theirs. His arms they slung over their shoulders, and Jazz procured a pair of sunglasses to hide his unblinking, vacant eyes.

“Is there anything we can do about the slack-jawed drooling?”

After failing to find anything more suitable, Sam wrapped her scarf several times around his face. There. Now they were ready.

“We got this!” Tucker fist-pumped with the arm not supporting his friend’s body. “And with your ventriloquy skills, I think this will be a piece of cake.”

Jazz and Sam exchanged a look, not certain who he was addressing. “What ventriloquy skills?” Sam asked.

“You said you couldn’t play Doomed last week because you had to practice ventriloquy.”

Sam face-palmed. “Sol-il-o-quy. I had to practice my soliloquy for drama class. It’s a kind of monologue addressed to yourself.”

“… so, no ventriloquy skills?”

“Not unless you’re hiding any in your back pocket.”

“Right. Well, this could still work. Ready?”

“Ready. We’ll start left foot first, a one-two beat.”

“Wait, your left or my left?”

“They’re the same left! We’re facing the same way!”

After some initial stumbling, they found their rhythm and lurched forward like the six-legged amalgamation they were.

The Fenton parents having foregone their usual vibrant attire for more suitable somber wear, it took a moment to spot them in the crowd. Maddie’s eyes were red-rimmed, and Jack blew his nose noisily into a handkerchief. Tucker and Sam and Danny’s body shambled over and slid haphazardly onto the pew while Jazz distracted them with questions about the service.

Eventually, Maddie had to notice the state of her son. “Danny! Take those sunglasses off, it’s disrespectful.”

“Uh, he can’t do that, Mrs. F! Because, uh – ”

“Because it’s a physical manifestation of his grief,” Sam put forward. “Yeah, he said that the world seemed darker without the light of, uh, Aunt Millie in it. So he’s wearing sunglasses to avoid looking at the vibrancy of the world.”

“Oh.” She seemed very uncertain, but willing to accept their explanation. “Alright. I didn’t realize he was so close to her.”

“Well, you know Danny,” Tucker began. “He likes to play things close to the vest.” He gestured, unintentionally causing Danny to slump forward – but a quick recovery saved his body from faceplanting into the pew in front. “Eh heh.”

“… and the scarf?”

“Sore throat.” “Head cold.” Sam and Tucker answered at the same time.

Jazz sighed. “Danny’s just feeling a little under the weather, Mom.”

“Why doesn’t he answer for himself? If he’s feeling that badly, he should have stayed home.”

“It’s the grief.” Jazz reassured her. “Look how heavily it weighs on him.”

Danny’s head lolled slightly from side to side, residual swaying from when he’d been prevented from falling forwards.

Before Maddie could comment, the ceremony began, and a hush fell over the room.

Sam and Tucker tried not to fidget, but it sure was taking Danny a while to fight whatever ghost had set his sense off, and neither of them had ever met his Great Aunt Mildred so it was a little hard to get emotionally invested in the proceedings. At least with everyone’s attention up front no one was paying attention to Danny’s lifeless body anymore.

Over an hour later, and they were starting to get seriously worried; Danny still hadn’t returned. As they piled back into Jazz’s car they debated ditching the funeral procession to go look for him, when with a huge gasp Danny started breathing again.

“Danny!”

“What took you so long?!”

“Little brother, are you hurt?”

He unwrapped Sam’s scarf from around his face. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It was just Johnny 13. I uh…” he suddenly couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I forgot where the service was being held. So I’ve been flying around, looking for your car…”

“Are you kidding me?!” Tucker wailed.

Sam jabbed him in the ribs, hard. “Never. Again.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “I promise I won’t make you drag my corpse to a funeral ever again.”

Muttering under her breath, Jazz turned on her hazard lights and joined the line of cars leaving the funeral home, heading towards the burial site. Danny was so dead for pulling this stunt.

#danny phantom #corpse au #ectober week 2021 #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #i've never actually seen weekend at bernie's #only ever listened to the film reroll version

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autumnscribbles · 3 years

Text

don’t touch her | b.s

summary: brad goes to the set where y/n is starring in a new movie. after her co-star crosses a boundary, brad can’t help but intervene

pairing: jealous!brad x reader

words: 1.3k

a/n: sorry i’m late with this but here is some jealous brad that we all love!! thank you to whoever sent in this request, ily!! feel free to send more requests friends :)

You and Brad were hand in hand, walking onto set bright an early in the morning. Your nerves were running high since today was a big filming day for you with a lot of important and major scenes. You had been acting for a while, but this was your first movie that you felt really good about, and thought could make your career take off even more.

Brad squeezed your hand slightly, sensing your nerves, and you smiled at him before taking a sip out of the coffee cup in your hand. You scanned the room, seeing your familiar cast and crew and dragged Brad along to your dressing room. You pulled off your hat, scarf, and jacket, the colder months bringing a chill to the air, especially in the mornings.

“Nervous?” Brad asked, although he already knew what your answer would be.

“Extremely,” you chuckled, smoothing your clothes out with your hands after they’d been crinkled by your jacket.

“You’re gonna be great, babe,” Brad grinned, reaching his arm around your waist to pull you towards him. “Just pretend you’re kissing me.”

You let out a laugh, pulling him close and pressing your lips against his. Today was going to be your first time kissing your co-star, and despite the fact that you knew it was acting, you still felt a bit odd kissing someone that wasn’t Brad. That being said, you had psyched yourself up for it for the last few days, and you felt ready. Brad supported you in everything you did, and this was no different. He was excited to finally get the chance to see you in your element, despite the fact that you had to make out with someone that wasn’t him.

It was part of the business, and you both knew that.

You were quickly whisked away to hair and makeup, Brad being invited to come with you. He watched as they transformed you into your on screen character, and he was taken away by your beauty as always.

You made your way to set, spotting your co-star, Will, running his lines while pacing. You walked over to him, giving him a warm smile as a greeting.

“Will, this is my boyfriend, Brad,” you gestured.

“Oh,” Will said, smiling widely. “Nice to meet you, Brad.”

“You too,” Brad smiled. “I’m excited to see you guys in action today.”

“Action,” Will laughed. “There’s definitely gonna be some action.”

You rolled your eyes, telling Will to shut up as you got ready to start filming the scene, the crew members getting into place and gathering around.

Brad receded into the background, taking a seat on a stool, smile still on his face as he waited to see you do your thing. He had watched all your movies, of course, but he had never been on set with you. He knew this movie was special to you, and that made it special for him, too.

“Action!” the director called out, you and Will immediately transforming into your characters.

“I could kiss you right now,” you recited, glancing up at Will who stood taller than you.

“What’s stopping you?” he teased. “I’m right here.”

“I’m scared,” you gulped. “Scared that kissing you will ruin everything.”

“I’m willing to take the risk.”

Will leaned in towards you, the moment of truth. You knew you would have to do it more than once anyway, but you were happy to at least break the awkward wall and get the first attempt over with. You attempted to melt into the kiss and make it look natural and full of passion. You tried pretending you were kissing Brad, like he suggested. The thought made you want to chuckle, but you restrained.

Suddenly, Will deepened the kiss, his hand moving from your back to your butt, giving it a squeeze. Before you knew it, he was moving down to your neck, pressing his lips against it and biting it softly.

You pulled away quickly, having not prepared for that.

“I-” you stumbled over your words. “Can we stop?”

“Cut!” the director called, stopping the filming immediately.

Brad had been standing up the second Will’s hands moved to your ass. He knew it wasn’t in the script, and that it was supposed to be a sweet, moderately short kiss, not a grope fest. Brad’s fists balled at his sides as he had resisted the urge to say anything before the camera’s stopped rolling.

You stepped off the set, feeling uncomfortable and blindsided by the events that just happened, and Brad stormed over to Will.

“Don’t touch her like that ever again,” he growled, getting into Will’s space.

“Woah dude, I’m just doing what I’m supposed to be doing,” he laughed. “Acting, remember?”

“That wasn’t acting you fucking dick,” Brad spat.

“I was being spontaneous,” Will teased. “Besides, we both know she liked it.”

Brad grabbed Will by the front of his shirt, pushing him against the wall.

“She didn’t fucking like it, you made her uncomfortable,” Brad screamed. “Don’t you EVER do that to her again, or anyone else for that matter, you fucking predator.”

“Security!” Will called, and immediately two guys were on Brad, pulling him off Will.

“Don’t touch me,” Brad flailed, trying to escape the grasp of the security guards.

“Sir, you need to leave,” one of the burly men said to him.

“Fine,” Brad yelled. “Fine. At least let me talk to my girlfriend first.”

“One minute. That’s it,” the man ordered.

Brad rushed over to you, pulling you into his arms quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stroking your hair.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’m fine, I was just taken off guard. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know, love, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t handle that guy touching you like that and making you uncomfortable.”

“Let’s go!” security called, holding the door open for Brad to leave.

“I’ll see you at home,” you told him, kissing his cheek as he was escorted out.

Now you had to suffer the rest of the day alone, and just prayed the next shot of the scene would be more successful than the first.

You opened the front door to your house with Brad, grateful for the warm air that hit you as you stepped in. It was dark out now, and you were just eager to finally be home.

Brad was on the couch anxiously waiting for your return, and a jumped up at the sound of the front door opening, meeting you immediately.

“Hey baby,” he smiled, kissing your forehead sweetly.

“Hi hun,” you replied.

“Was the rest of the day okay?” he asked, concerned.

“It went alright, he didn’t try anything else again to say the least,” you answered, taking a seat on the couch, Brad following suite as you leaned on his shoulder.

“I think you scared him,” you laughed.

“I hope I did,” Brad chuckled. “He better not do that to you ever again. It’s disgusting.”

“Thank you for standing up for me, baby,” you smiled up at him, kissing him gently.

“Any day, any place, any time,” he whispered.

“My knight in shining armour,” you laughed. “But honestly it was kind of funny.”

“It was not!” he protested. “I was very manly and threatening.”

“Right,” you nodded. “Of course.”

“Now,” Brad started. “Shall we put on a movie and make out?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “Show me how it’s really done.”

You both laughed, happy to be able to move on from the tense events of earlier that day. At the end of the day you were always together, comfortable, and safe, no matter what the day brought.

#brad simpson #brad simpson imagine #brad simpson imagines #brad simpson x reader #the vamps #the vamps imagine #the vamps fanfic #james mcvey #tristan evans #connor ball #imagine #fanfic

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

Note

hello! can you write scenario for akashi, aomine, kise, and kagami where their s/o is jealous of all the attention they're getting from other girls?

awwww. adorbs! certainly ^_^ 🖤

Jealous S/O

Akashi

It’s not a surprise that he was popular.

Akashi was smart, handsome, rich. Great at academics, and sports, and the youngest student council president in the history of Rakuzan. You didn’t believe in people being perfect, but if ever someone was going to get close it would be Akashi. He really lived up to the ‘Emperor’ nickname.

And what was an Emperor without his court.

“What’s wrong [Y/N]?” You look up from the pavement as you walked to class to see Akashi staring at you. His gaze focused, but soft & concerned. “You seem distracted.”

“Oh…it’s nothing.” You tuck your hair behind your ear. Prepared to let this go. Of course, Akashi wouldn’t let it though. He continued to stare at you until you finally broke down and told him. “It’s just them.”

The red head turned to look where you had jutted your chin towards the girls, huddled behind one of the pillars in the court yard whispering & staring, and your boyfriend let out a sigh. “Ah yes. Them.” He doesn’t seem surprised by their presence. Nor their borderline stalking. You should have guessed that he knew they were there. “I just choose to ignore them. However, if they are making you uncomfortable, I can order them to stop.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to cause trouble. And although it was annoying, you didn’t want to break another girl’s heart over their rejected feelings. “It’s not a big deal. It’s the burden of dating the ‘Emperor’ I guess.” His lips scrunch. Though the nickname stuck over time, you know he doesn’t actually care for that title. “I just feel a little bit like one of those women in a historical K-drama. You know, like someone is waiting in the wings to knock me off so they can take my place near the emperor.” Sometimes you kind of feel like I should start checking my lunch for poison or glass.

Akashi scoffed a little. Then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “That’s never going to happen.” He assured you. “My heart belongs to only you. And, if anyone were to hurt you, I’d gouge their eyes out.”

Perhaps it’s poor form to giggle at such a threat, but you do. He really was so protective of you. You really had no reason to be jealous, because no one was going to take Akashi away from you.

You continue on your way to class. The ‘court’ suspiciously hanging back more than usual after that day.

Aomine

The street ball court was a buzz as usual whenever Aomine played.

His ‘quick game’ with the challenges on the court had turned into a full basketball brawl that had lasted for hours. One-on-one after one after another.

Not that you minded. Watching Aomine play, and seeing him happy, was always thrilling. He always looked so cool when he played; giving his all, even against weaker players. You chuckle to yourself. He really was a terrible guy to take such joy in crushing people. But then what did that say about you when you were so turned on by it?

“That dark skin guy is so hot! Do you think he’s foreign?”

You turn away from the court to a gaggle of girls, some your age, some older, watching the game as well from the side lines. Some had noticed the game and come to watch. Others had come with their own boyfriends. You frown a little as they continue to whisper and gush over your boyfriend. Getting moodier by the second.

“Yo, what’s up?” You look up from glaring at the lines on the court; just in time to see Aomine place his ball he was holding in one hand against your head. “You look pissed. Are you not having fun?”

“Not really.” You confess, batting his hand away. You weren’t having fun now. He was talking to you, but those girls still couldn’t take their eyes off them. “Can we go now?”

“What?? But things are just getting started.” He lifted his shirt up as he whined to wipe the sweat from his brow and you could practically hear the siren like squeals from those thirsty ass bitches.

“I don’t like the crowd here.”

Aomine seemed to catch on, and looked to the side to see who was annoying you. You have to assume he expected to see some guy making you uncomfortable, based on his expression, but looked surprised when he saw it was just a bunch of girls; totally playing it off like they weren’t staring at him a moment ago. “What can I say babe? I can’t help it if girls think I’m super hot and junk.” His cockiness and smirk were not attractive at the moment.

You continue to pout, but just long enough for Aomine to lean in and give you a peck on said pout. “Let me kick this guys ass and then we can go. ‘Less you wanna stick around and make ‘em jealous back. We can do gross couple stuff until they get weirded out and leave.”

You chuckle again at the offer. Appreciating the gesture he was trying to make. “Go play your game and then we can go. If we’re going to do ‘gross couple stuff’, I’d rather do it in private where we can enjoy it.”

Aomine gave you a big grin, followed by a loud, “yes ma’m!”

Of course, he slaughtered the guy in the next game. Leaving him to sulk off back to his own girlfriend; who was indeed in the pack and not looking too happy about it. You both leave after that to finish your date. Aomine proud as a peacock for the rest of the afternoon from the ego boost.

Kise

It was hard, dating a model.

You knew of Kise’s profession before you started dating, of course, but you had no idea how hard it would be on your relationship.

Girls stopped him every chance they got to ask for his autograph, or gush over his new photobook. He of course was courteous and polite. Turning on that model charm. He always thanked them for their patronage of his work and they promised to always support him. It had been bad before, but ever since his game was televised this past season, it had grown into a circus. Not only was he the beautiful blonde-haired boy they all admired, but now he was also the super-hot jock they all drooled over. You could barely go out on a proper date anymore without being accosted by some female vying for his attention.

“[Y/N]-cchi, what’s wrong? You look upset.”

“This is ridiculous!” You told him, and you weren’t just talking about his huge sunglasses & stupid hat he was wearing to try and be ‘incognito’. It wasn’t working even a little bit, so now it was just doubly stupid. “Why can’t they leave you alone for 10 minutes?!”

“They’re my fans [Y/N]-cchi. I can’t disappoint them!”

“Right. Don’t disappoint them. Why don’t you hang out with them today then?” You mutter sullenly. Prepared to leave.

Kise seemed to realize what was going on, and just how upset you were, as he reached out to grab you hand. “I don’t want to hang out with them [Y/N].” You turn back around when he said your name like a real person. Not the cute little way he did it as part of his act. “I don’t want anyone else but you. They only like me because I’m handsome and a model.” Humble too, you think to yourself. “They don’t really care about me. You do! I don’t want to lose that. Please forgive me.”

He did genuinely look hurt, and you have to believe that he meant it. You sigh. It wasn’t totally Kise’s fault. “It’s alright Ryouta.” You tell him. He seemed to perk up a little at that. “If you could maybe not lay it on so thick for them in the future, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course [Y/N]-cchi!” He cheered with a beaming smile. Already back to his normal self. “I’d do anything for you!”

It doesn’t stop of course. But Kise kept true to his word and politely asked to be left in peace. Most respected that. Some weren’t as understanding of his needs. You just appreciated that he was trying to keep them at bay. Fangirls were weird.

Kagami

After practice, you and Kagami went to Maji Burger, as per usual. And, as per usual, people were staring at your table.

Most of the time they were staring at the loud, tall teen scarfing down his body weight in hamburgers. Amazed at his own personal eating contest. However, more recently, the people staring were girls from your school who had also come here. And they were staring at Kagami only.

He was completely oblivious to it, but Kagami was actually really popular; even before Serin started wining so much. He was tall, athletic, built. He’d come from America, which was so cool for a lot of the students around here. Plus, he had this whole ‘bad boy basketball star’ vibe going. If they only knew how much of a sweet heart he really was. Actually, scratch that. If they knew that would only make it worse.

“Hey, what’s up [Y/N]? You’re not eating. Do you not like your food?”

You look up from your own, normal portion on the tray, then back down as you play with your food. “It’s just hard to eat when people are staring.”

Kagami blinked. Then looked around to see what you were talking about. “I don’t see anybody.”

“Of course you don’t….” You mutter under your breath. He never did.

“What does it matter?” He asked. “It’s not like I can stop people from looking at me. They have eyeballs. It’s a free country.”

“That’s not the point Kagami. It’s not that they’re looking at you. It’s the fact that they’re looking at you.” You’re trying to be discrete here, but subtle or discretion never really got through to Kagami. “They wanna fuck you.”

Kagami choked on his burger halfway devoured in his mouth. “Don’t say that!” He scolded you. Once he’d recovered from his near-death experience.

“Well, it’s true. Maybe that’s a bit much, but they definitely look at you that way, and it’s annoying.”

“How can you even tell?”

“Because it’s how I look at you.” You muttered under our breath again. Fidgeting with our soda straw to avoid eye contact.

Kagami heard you again though and now you were both blushing in the booth. “Well…the only one I’m interested in looking at me that way is you.” He muttered back. “The only one I’m interested in looking at that way is you.” His leg moved forward under the table to touch yours. Simple, secret, intimate.

You smile softly as you realize it was stupid to be jealous. Kagami had no guile. He was honest to a fault, which was another of his amazing qualities. He genuinely didn’t see those other girls because he was only focused on you. So let them stare. There was no way they were going to take him away from you.

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