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sytco · 3 years

Text

common blessings [joochan]

pairing: childhood friend!hong joochan x reader

word count: 3.5k (!)

requested: "toothrotting fluff ft. joochan"

dedicated to @sahiflowers.

a/n: im SO SO sorry this took so long and i hope u like it even a little and that it makes u smile thank u for being so patient ily!! ily!!! reminder im always here for u!!

In which you find that time is meaningless when Joochan is not by your side.

wonderboy.

Sometimes, you speculate whether Joochan has some kind of genius for finding you as soon as the school bell rings, signalling the end of another day.

Today, he surprises you behind the auditorium where you lean against a maple tree, hugging your bag to your chest, because you’ve skipped your last period (Introduction to Psychology) in favor of lying on the grass so you can watch the clouds in peace. And Joochan smiles a fond, fond smile because you have that look on your face again that you only get when you’re lost in thought.

“Missed me?”

You tense from shock before relaxing at the sight of your boyfriend who widens his arms so you can walk right into them.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is muffled in the fabric of his vest and Joochan reaches up so he can play with the back of your collar.

“Just had a little hunch you might be here.” And this is the answer he always gives, accompanied with the same smug smile each time.

You pout even if Joochan can’t see it. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Well now,” he says in an affected voice that sounds like the narrator from that National Geographic documentary on penguins the two of you watched last week, “I can’t afford to have you getting your hands on all my secrets, can I? I’ve got to keep some things to myself so that in ten year's time, you’ll still think I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe.”

It’s ridiculous, you think, how it’s nearly winter but the way you can feel the laughter that starts in his chest and electrifies you to your fingertips is more than capable of keeping you warm and making you feel like you’re really alive.

“Doesn’t matter if I find out all your secrets or not,” you mumble, “you’ll always be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe to me.”

From the courtyard around the corner, you can hear Jaehyun shouting a loud “Oi Joochan!”.

Joochan ignores him and instead casually pecks your cheek with a kiss that feels like a blessing. “Always?”

You tilt your head as though unsure. "Well… for at least fifty years, probably.”

“Fifty?!” Joochan echoes in mock outrage, and you playfully poke his side to which he flinches slightly.

“I was lying. I meant for all of time ever.”

And despite him doing his best to hide it, your boyfriend melts instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck where he’s probably smiling his brilliant smile that feels like the sun against your skin.

Jaehyun’s voice interrupts the peace and quiet once again with a noticeably louder and more panicked tone.

“Hong Joochan! We’re going to be late for soccer practice!”

Joochan groans exaggeratedly and you can’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Wish I didn’t have to go to stupid practice,” he grumbles.

“You know, I’ll wait for you in the library until you’re done,” you offer and Joochan perks up - if only slightly because your arms still feel like heaven after years of loving you, and two hours of kicking a ball around (while Donghyun and Jibeom brainstorm inventive ways to trip each other up, much to Coach Lee’s chagrin) just can’t compete. He tells you as much in the way his arms tighten around you.

“You’re the best,” Joochan declares suddenly, “I might be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe, but you’re the best.”

You snort. “Go to practice already before Jaehyun starts going spare, wonderboy.”

Joochan kisses your forehead one last time before he detaches himself from you with a dejected sigh and picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder despite your protests. “Walk with me to the oval?”

You slip your hand into his hand only to find it a perfect fit and wonder briefly if there is anywhere in this world you would not walk to with Hong Joochan, the boy who has a smile like sunlight and a personality like a billion shooting stars.

“Of course.”

fm.

There is the occasional moment in which you wish that your boyfriend wasn’t so exceedingly talented in nearly every field he tries his hand at, because the various extracurriculars that Joochan (being the naturally energetic and enthusiastic person he is) involves himself with have an awful way of making tremendous demands on his time towards the end of the semester.

Right now is one of those moments when Joochan trudges into your room and dives face first onto your bed without even bothering to shake his coat off. “So what was it today?” you ask in a voice that betrays your concern and Joochan can’t help but smile at it.

“Theatre rehearsal,” he yawns, “then string quartet practice. Also an hour of soccer drills with some of the boys. Even though it’s a Saturday.”

You get up from your chair at the desk so you can sit on the bed where Joochan immediately moves his head onto your lap, lifting your hand and resting it on his hair. You absentmindedly start stroking it, staring out the window at a soft grey sky.

“Did you eat?”

Joochan shakes his head. “No time. My dumb E string broke again so I barely managed to have half an apple before we went straight into a new Mozart piece today. Think we might perform it at the next concert. You’d come, right?” And he asks that in a self-assured tone, because he already knows what your answer is going to be.

You give it to him anyway because there’s no point in hiding your blatant admiration for all that he does. “No matter what.”

“And just to see me, right?”

You fake a pause that has Joochan peering up at you suspiciously.

“You do know I have friends who aren’t you that are participating in the concert, right? Like Jangjun and Sungyoon?”

Joochan scowls. “But none of those hooligans are your boyfriend, who - in case you forgot but I do know you’d never - is me.”

“That’s quite true,” you concede before leaning down to kiss his cheek with a smile that makes Joochan’s stomach fill with butterflies which are probably colored pink and green and blue. It never gets old, he thinks: your talent for turning his world upside down in a look or a word or an action. And you don’t even know you’re doing it most of the time.

“Mean,” he accuses but in a half-hearted manner and your smile only widens because you know that Joochan is supremely happy despite his exhaustion, if the way his brow has smoothed completely and he has started drawing little stars on your knee is anything to go by.

There’s a gentle lull in the conversation while you continue to run your fingers through Joochan’s hair, and especially his fringe. It’s almost as though time has passed you by, leaving you together in your own little reality where things like hazy futures and big concerts and broken violin strings do not dare draw near.

“Wanna order something later on for dinner?” you ask quietly.

“Maybe,” he grins through closed eyes, “but nap first.”

Your radio continues to run, and you drift in and out of listening to the DJ duo while watching the rain finally fall outside.

“It’s been pretty cold recently, hasn’t it?” one of the DJs opens the conversation after a small stream of ads.

“Sure has, pal. And speaking of the cold, apparently our first snow of the season is scheduled for next week Friday!”

“So do you have any plans lined up with a special someone?”

“Just had to remind me of how single I am, didn’t you”- rambunctious peals of laughter crackle from the speakers - “but maybe some of our lovely listeners will send in their plans for next Friday.”

“I sure did - and wow, they’re already pouring in! Do you wanna read one out?”

“Let’s see… Listener ha_miii_ran says: ‘I’m planning on confessing to my crush of two years. I’m pretty nervous about this so I’m hoping the two of you will wish me luck!’ All the best of luck to you, Ha Miran-nim, from the both of us. I don’t know how you’re planning on it, but hopefully the first snow will act as a good luck charm for you!”

“Yeah, good luck Ha Miran-nim!” the other DJ chimes in. “Be sure to update us on how it goes!”

“Well, we’ll be back with some more stories after this excerpt from a famous piano concerto - maybe some of our more classically-inclined audience will recognise its globally renowned composer.”

A beautiful melody begins to play and you’re on the cusp of losing yourself in the music when you are most abruptly interrupted by a sleepy, but decisive, “Gershwin.”

You blink down at Joochan. “What?”

“It’s Gershwin. The composer. Don't you think your boyfriend's clever for knowing that?"

“I thought my boyfriend was asleep, actually,” and you narrow your eyes.

“I was,” Joochan protests, “I only woke up when they were talking about the snow or something. And then they talked about that person who’s confessing to their crush of two years - got me thinking about how I can relate because I vividly remember having a crush on you for at least three before I could muster up the courage to confess. Which ended up working out for the best, you know,” he adds in a thoughtful tone, “but sometimes I’d get so nervous just thinking about it that I couldn’t sleep at all. Anyways, I’m really hungry now, so can we order something soon please?”

Maybe it’s the way he so nonchalantly wears his heart for you on his sleeve, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you as though you have strung the Milky Way itself together and made a gift of it to him. Maybe it’s the way you simply realize that you might not be able to live with yourself if you were to lose your boyfriend, ever. But for whatever reason it is, a thousand smiles bloom in your heart and you lean down to give Joochan a kiss that hopefully tastes like everything you cannot possibly put into words.

“Anything you want,” you whisper, and Joochan draws a heart on your knee in response.

enchanted.

You’re outside the auditorium again but in front of it, this time, and not behind. The post-concert hubbub has died down, mostly owing to the fact that much of the audience has left already whether it’s to a late congratulatory supper or down to the boardwalk where fireworks are scheduled to go off at midnight. The bouquet of lily of the valleys in your hand trembles slightly as you use your other hand to fumble around for your ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“You’re waiting outside, right?” Joochan asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“See, Donghyun, I told you I was right about - wait. Wait! Don't move!”

And then you have less than two seconds to process exactly what is happening before your boyfriend catches you up in a running embrace that sends the world spinning in a flurry of snow and stars and kisses that Joochan plants all over your cheeks. He remains blissfully unaware that somewhere in the vicinity, Donghyun has started making gagging sounds at your very public display of affection, punctuated by Jaehyun’s giggling. (You pay them no mind.)

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asks, fond expectation twinkling in his eyes.

You nod too much. “You were incredible,” you tell him honestly, and Joochan beams.

“I was, wasn’t I?” he says in a satisfied voice as he pulls you closer. “Guess all those hours of practice paid off.”

“It’s almost like that’s the whole point of practicing,” you tease.

“It’s lucky you’re cute and I’m hopelessly in love with you,” Joochan crinkles his nose in contrived distaste for your little jab before hugging you again so he can hear you whisper just how proud you are of him, right into his ear.

And the two of you stay like that for a little before you remember the gift you brought with you.

“For me?” And the look in his eyes reminds you of how he looked at you when you first told him that you loved him too - or maybe of every time you’ve told him that you love him too.

“Who else?”

He snaps up the bouquet, pressing it against his nose and inhaling deeply with a smile. "This is a nice surprise."

"They mean 'return to happiness'," you say, gently touching a little white bloom that looks like a star against the backdrop of Joochan's black school blazer. "Thought it was cute. And the florist was sold out of roses anyway."

Joochan laughs with the warmth of a thousand sunbeams and puts your hand in his so he can start gently tugging you away.

“But your violin”- you begin protesting.

“But nothing,” he shushes you as the school gets smaller and smaller behind you in the distance. “I don’t even want to see that thing for a week. Hey, and guess what - I found a secret place for just you and me so we can watch the fireworks without being pressed up against everyone else like sardines in a tin can.”

“You and I are going to watch the fireworks?” you echo, surprise colouring your voice.

Joochan’s exhale turns into a giggle. “Who else?” And you dig an elbow into his side, hiding a smile at his antics.

The two of you stroll down quiet streets and you lean into your boyfriend’s comforting warmth. Most shops are closed with the exception of some fast food chains and convenience stores, but you notice almost none of them now as Joochan picks up the pace, his excitement bleeding into the quiet song he sings that floats up in the air and is lost somewhere in the stars above.

“Here we are,” says Joochan proudly and he helps you up into the little gazebo at the top of the hill you hadn’t realized you were climbing. “Take this,” he adds as he tosses you a torch that brightly illuminates the space you’re in as soon as you switch it on. You turn to the rustling sounds on your left, finally seeing the wooden bench that Joochan is busy spreading a rug over.

“You planned this beforehand?” And there’s a note of wonder in your voice - the same kind that only Joochan ever seems to be able to evoke. “I thought we were going straight home.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him with a charming smile and you do so immediately. “Told you I can’t give up all the secrecy. Not yet.” Or, he thinks privately to himself, not when you look at him like that.

The golden light from the torch casts long shadows over the grass and gives Joochan’s face a nearly ethereal glow that reminds you of summer sunsets despite the cold. You slip into a soft and easy silence - one that comes from memories built upon memories, resulting in a code made up of gazes and touch that only the two of you will ever understand. And so when he squeezes your hand gently, you instantly open your arms for him to sink right into.

There’s only a few minutes left until midnight when you finally speak.

“Joochan,” you murmur.

“Mm?”

“You ever think about where we’ll be this time next year?”

Joochan shifts his posture slightly. “Often, actually. Especially when I go to sleep at night and think about tomorrow - then I’ll wonder if it’ll even remotely go the way I want it to.”

“And how do you usually want it to go?” you ask.

“Someone has a lot of questions today,” Joochan remarks with a droll look on his face that makes you laugh briefly before his expression sobers. “But usually I want it to go safely. You know? Everything in its proper place and things like that. And more importantly, I want to know all the time that I’ll be able to see you.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking out over the view of the city. If you squint, you can just make out the boardwalk by the beach and the crowds of people who have gathered there, young and old alike. “I’m scared sometimes.”

Joochan frowns. “Scared of what? I’ll fight it off for you,” and he waves a threatening fist at nothing in particular.

“The future, I guess. It sounds silly but… sometimes I don’t know if we’ll always be okay. Like this, the way things are right now. Whether it’s tomorrow or next year or even after that.” Your voice fades in volume until it’s nearly lost against the threads of your scarf, and Joochan’s heart breaks a little when he hears it: the genuine uncertainty and timid fear that seeps past the smile you give him in an effort to hide it.

“Why do you think we might not be okay?”

You look down at your feet, almost embarrassed by your own honesty. “Well, people… change, Joo. They move places, and have goals to achieve and dreams to chase down. And we’re not immune to that either.”

It’s Joochan’s turn to be silent for a bit as he mulls over your words before he straightens in your hold, turning his face towards you so he can affectionately bump his nose against yours. “You’re right,” he says in a voice that mirrors your sadness, “and it would be a lie to say I don’t think about the same things you do. But”- and he leans in to give you a quick kiss that’s shaped like a smile - “it’d also be a lie to say that every dream doesn’t feature you in it. Because every dream of mine that I’ve ever had places you centre stage.”

He kisses you again, a little longer - a little more wistfully.

“You see, the real problem here is that you have me perpetually thinking that I can’t do any of this without you,” he says simply. “Whether it’s late night phone calls or early morning messages; or maybe we’ll find ourselves having to book flights for each other, holding bags full of gifts that remind us of us. And maybe it’ll be hard and maybe I’ll wake up some days, knowing I won’t be able to see you. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be okay.”

You swallow and Joochan watches you carefully, the urgency in his eyes prompting him to lift your chin so you can see it too.

“Even if we change,” he continues in a whisper, hoping you will understand the heart in his words. “And we should. And we will, and we’ll still be okay. You believe me, don’t you? Seeing as I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe?”

Somewhere, midnight comes and goes and the fireworks start, dousing you and Joochan in bursts of coloured light.

“Of course I do,” you smile with eyes that glitter with tears of relief and he pulls you into a tight hug, so tight you can feel every movement of his rib cage as he breathes in and out.

For once, you do not feel that fear deep down that threatens to taint your time with the only boy you think you cannot live without. And so you unreservedly hold him in return, fingers running through his hair as he tells you that he loves you, over and over again.

up, up and away.

There had been a time during your childhood when your one greatest wish had been to go see the stars.

So your friend Joochan, in all his clumsy sincerity, had done his best to make you a rocket out of a box he’d found at home. He’d then brought it to your house after he’d finished it, blue marker staining his fingertips and glitter shaped like stars lost in his thick fringe.

The two of you had sat in it together and looked up at the moon, holding hands from childish innocence and recounting thrilling tales of adventures you’d never had. And before having to go home to bed that day, he’d made you a promise that present-day Joochan complains about not being able to fulfill.

“I know I said I’d take you to the stars,” Joochan sighs in displeasure from where he lies on your bed, right next to you, “but while your boyfriend is exceptionally talented, you do know I’m no astronaut, right?”

You hold his hand in response and look into his eyes that sparkle with mirth and deeper in, shine with a love that always gives you peace.

It may be that Joochan will never be able to keep his promise of taking you to space in a real, functioning rocket. But, as you drop a kiss on his mouth that soon widens into a brilliant smile, you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

After all, it’s hard to miss the stars when for you, they all start with Joochan and end with him.

if u liked this please consider dropping a like and reblogging with ur thoughts because feedback is!! always appreciated thank you!!!

#SCREAMS IT'S FINALLY DONE WITH I'M FINALLY FINISHED #golden child #golden child scenarios #golden child imagines #hong joochan #golden child hong joochan #golden child joochan #joochan #ju writes #gncd #golcha #im now off to go cry. or nap. both

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duskholland · 4 years

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Obsessing over roommate!harrison’s hands. That’s it. Take it wherever you want. (but you know where my mind’s at 👀😅)

harrison’s hands are my number one kink. thank u so much for enabling this filth, laura.

18+ !!!! contains nsfw material.

-- continuing blurb night --

It’s not like you’d intended to develop these feelings for Harrison, it had just sort of... happened.

When your now-roommate had responded to the ad you’d put up on Facebook, you’d thought he was a little bit too good to be true. Harrison had turned up to the showing in a designer coat and he’d laid the charm on thick - and before you’d really had time to think about it, you’d ended the encounter by inviting him to live with you. He was moved in by the end of the week, and every day since has been an adventure.

You get on well. Very well, in fact. You’d go as far to classify him as one of your best friends, which is an issue now, because somewhere between signing the lease and today, you’ve managed to develop this absorbing, fervent lust for him, and now you can’t seem to be able to stop looking at his fucking hands.

There’s a lot of things to admire about Harrison, but his hands are your greatest weakness. Whether they’re wrapped around a glass, or drumming over the kitchen table, or passing you the salt shaker, your eyes are just... drawn there. His fingers are so long and stocky, and your stolen glimpses send your mind swirling down the gutter. You imagine watching the veins flex as his fingers travel all over you, grabbing at you, pulling you close, stroking against your inner walls-- and it’s utterly seductive, and completely consuming.

And as if the strong lines of his hands aren’t enough, his ring is a source of your suffering, too. The silver metal glints beneath the lights in the kitchen, and it always garners your undivided attention, because it’s very easy to imagine what it’d look like pressing up against your cunt, the cool metal burning against your hot hole.

You think you’re very inconspicuous about it. Harrison doesn’t seem to notice your fixation on his hands, or how you sometimes swallow particularly harshly every time he runs his fingers through his hair, but maybe you were too distracted by his movements to ever realise that - whilst you were watching his hands - Harrison was watching your face, and observing your eyes clouding over with lust every time he articulated something with his hands.

So he teases you a little bit, just because he can, and he enjoys making you squirm because he wants to see how far he can take it before you snap.

He goes all out. Letting his hands rest on the small of your back, his fingers rubbing small circles over the tender skin when your hoodie rides up. He makes a very conscious effort to keep pulling at his hair whenever you’re around just so you get the full view of his knuckles curving and his muscles clenching, and his fingers tousling up his strands. When he realises you have a thing for accessories, he starts stacking more layers of rings all across his stocky fingers, and he starts religiously wearing his watch around the flat because he knows just how much you love seeing the rich leather strap wrapped around his wrist.

It all finally escalates when you’re cooking together, and you get a spot of sauce on your chin, and you ask him, very nicely, to get it off for you.

“You’re so messy, Y/N,” he mumbles. Harrison draws his hand to your face, and he bites at his lower lip as he sees the way you’re watching him move. He draws his fingers over your chin and swipes away the bead of rich tomato sauce with his thumb, but instead of pulling away, he brings the pad of your thumb up and presses it over your lips. Your eyes darken and you part your lips, and he slips his finger into your mouth easily.

A small, trembling whine passes up your throat, and you suck around his finger eagerly. It feels heavy on your tongue, and Harrison presses it further into your mouth as you reach up and grab at his waist, your cooking forgotten as your mind clouds over.

“I know you like my hands, darling,” Harrison finally dares to say. The way you’re looking at him - all distracted, and aroused, with those large dark eyes confirms it. “I see you, when you’re staring at my fingers all the time.” You hum quietly, and you’d feel embarrassed if he wasn’t staring at you like he’s ravenous. “Do you want me to show you what they can do?”

With a desperate jerk of your head, Harrison dips his other hand down. Luckily for you, you’re wearing a short floaty skirt, so he’s able to keep his thumb resting in your mouth as his other hand slips up to cup your crotch. You whimper, the sound coming out muffled against his thumb, and Harrison swaps it out for his index and middle fingers instead, stretching your mouth out as you buck your hips down against his other hand.

“So wet for me already,” he whispers. He leans nearer to press a warm kiss to your cheek, his lips finding your ear a moment later as he adds, “Can’t wait to feel you around m’fingers, love.” He finally lets his digits slip beneath the waistband of your panties, and he gathers up the slick from your entrance before bringing it up to massage over your clit. As your eyes flutter shut, his tongue flicks out across your earlobe. “Keep your eyes on me, love. Want to watch your face as I fuck you, with my fingers in your mouth.”

You watch Harrison intently, enjoying the sight of his focused features as he alternates between rubbing over your clit and sliding his long, stocky digits into you. He stretches you out, and it’s delicious, and the fact that he’s got his other hand hanging from your mouth makes it even better. You suck on his digits as you moan, every inch of you crawling with heady desire as you start to grind down against his hand, your breathing hitching. With each long thrust of his fingers into you, the palm of his warm hand fucks up against your clit and it draws you close.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He murmurs, his blue eyes dancing darkly. Your lips are messy with spit and you struggle to keep his fingers in your mouth as your loud, building moans that threaten to spill out. “Pussy’s so hot and wet for me. Makes me wonder what it’d feel like to fuck you.” Harrison angles his fingers just right, and you find yourself reaching up and curling your fingers around his t-shirt, just so you have something to clench around as he rocks you to the edge. “G’nna cum for me, love? Let me feel you. Go on.”

His fingers slip from your mouth, and the kitchen fills with the sounds of your enjoyment as you release. His lips travel up and down your neck, kissing you, sucking your skin, drawing out your climax as you whimper and pulse for him, his fingers filling you to the knuckles as his thumb nudges against your clit over and over again. It’s electric - and after waiting so many months to feel his hands working you over, it feels incredible.

“Shit, Haz,” you stammer out, as he moves his hand away from your cunt. You watch as he finds your eyes and he enjoys bringing his digits up to his mouth and licking off your release, his pink tongue lapping up your juices eagerly. “Holy fuck...”

Harrison smirks. “Enjoy that?” He asks, and you nod immediately.

“Your hands are incredible.”

He moves in nearer, and you bite your lip as you find yourself on the receiving end of one of his intense, lusting stares. “They’re not the only part of me I think you’d enjoy feeling.”

You chuckle lightly and run your hands over the front of his shirt. “Oh, really?” You ask, glancing down to take note of his bulge. “Best show me what I’ve been missing out on, then.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #myblurbs #harrisonblurbs #blurb night #lauras-collection #haz.filth #smut

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nightlovellisdaddy-blog · 2 years

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(p1)Mondays are always busy days in a pub where I work at, so whenever i get really exhausted during work, I remind myself how I would reward me as soon as I get home. The sky is dark, only a few stars peeking out of it, as I open my car. Looking down, I see glistening skin on my thighs from my sweat. Our uniform from hooters is really the only reason why we get a lot of clients. My short red shirt reveals too much skin, especially when I sit down, my red top is way too small for my titties, and my two pigtails dangling at each side make me horny just by looking at my reflection in a rearview mirror. My right hand automatically lifts up the ham of my skirt that barely covers my already dripping pussy. Still staring at my reflection , I unbutton my top, revealing my big titties and letting the cold air touch my bare skin, making my nipples harder. I lift up my head, letting my delicate hands work their way. My right hand draws small circles over the thin fabric that covers my throbbing clit, and my left hand twists my hard nipples making me hiss at the pleasure and pain mixing together. My hips are starting to move, my head falls back , and my loud moans exit my mouth. But not even a couple minutes later, I come to realisation that I forgot to roll up my windows, as I see a man standing right in front of my door. He is dressed in a suit, a few buttons on his shirt are open and his eyes are on fire. He looks like a son of a Devil himself, because never in my life I’d seen such a beautiful face before. His sharp features, his grey eyes with long eyelashes and his pink lips make me moan even loader. My gaze drops down at a huge bulge in his pants that makes my pussy throb even more. I bite my bottom lip so hard, til the warm blood drips down on my chin. “Good girl” his raspy deep voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Then, at the corner of my eye, I see his hand reaching to my chin, where my dark blood gathered, wiping it off with his thumb. Afterwards, he lifts his now covered in blood thumb to his mouth, and starts sucking on it. “Fuck” I whispered under my breath. I feel heart in my throat, my fingers rubbing my pussy faster and faster. “Don’t come yet baby” he said, then dipping his hand down and cupping my pussy. “You are so wet and wet just for me”. I moved away my hand and let him take a full control of me. He pulled aside my panties, growled then smirked, slightly showing his teeth covered in my blood. My pulse starting beating faster, at the thought of him tasting my blood again. The glistening pussy was staring right at him, showing all of her beauty. I looked down again at his crotch, noticing how bigger his cock got because of me. Laying and ready all just for him, even tho I planned to spend the rest of my night otherwise. The mysterious man dipped his head into the car, to see my pussy clearer, then spat his saliva into it and suddenly dipped two of his fingers in, which made me gasp. I rolled my eyes and arched my back further. “Oh fuck” I said moaning. Suddenly, when I opened my eyes back, his face was right in front of me. His mouth was slightly open and the corner of it was pulled up, showing an evil smirk playing on his goddess face. I took a minute to take it all in. His hair was curly, hanging of the sides, his cheekbones were high up and his eyes … oh fuck his eyes were …. unhuman. The spark of blue mixed together with grayish tones, made them pop out. In the pitch black night, they were glowing. Literally. It took me a minute to realize, that this stranger whom I know nothing about, has taken control over my body and my mind. And we both clearly were enjoying it. “You are so fucking tight” he said whispering into my lips. “Open your mouth baby” i hesitated a bit, so he added “Open your fucking whore mouth and don’t u dare disobey me you slut. You don’t wanna know what happens if you do” His fingers were still doing their job, his eyes were locked and ready on mine, so I did as he asked, because … I wanna be a good girl, right? I open my mouth and pulled out my tongue, the next thing-…

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lambourngb · 4 years

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This Hard Lie

Fic prompt: “Just trust me.”

THIS HARD LIE follows THIS HARD TOWN an AU that explores what Michael’s life might change if Alex hadn’t joined the Air Force. It’s not necessarily an easy rosy life . This part includes the following warnings : Kyle/Michael, sexual content, a homophobic slur directed at Michael by an OC, Michael’s cynicism about the US military and some more plot musings. This is finished in full on AO3.

***

[UNDER the cut because it starts NSFW]

There was something intensely meditative about sucking cock for Michael.

Opening his mouth wide past comfort into an ache of effort, the firm press on his palate mixing with the surge of salt on his tongue, the mess of saliva and pre-cum smearing sloppily over his face as he dropped into a state where listening to his partner’s enjoyment was the only thing that registered. The world slipped away as he took measured breaths, his mind finally quiet, until all that was left was Michael being good.

Michael could just be a vessel to fill with pleasure instead of pain.

Normally skating his hand down to gently squeeze and massage his partner’s testicles was enough to get that hitched-curse and uncontrolled jerk in his mouth that signaled an impending orgasm. The draw and shiver of warm pliant skin before the warm, thick release in his mouth, except that was not happening.

After a firm swipe of his tongue against the slit, rubbing against the edge of the frenulum, another foolproof trick in his experience that garnered nothing more than a sigh and an absent clutch of the hand on the back of his neck, Michael pulled away abruptly to stare up at Kyle Valenti’s face.

“Wait, why’d you stop?”

Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand rocking back on his heels, his voice rough from his activities, “‘Cause you don’t seem to be into this? Which I gotta admit, that’s a mood killer for me and slightly hurtful to my pride.”

Instead of arguing with Michael over his observation, Kyle sighed guilty and shifted to pull up his lightweight shorts over his erection, signalling the close of the encounter. “Sorry, you know you’re great at that, it’s me. My brain,” he gestured to his head with a twirling motion with his long-skilled surgeon hands.

Michael couldn’t help but follow the motion with interest, he had always been a sucker for a set of strong, confident hands.

Alex had hands like that.

Fuck, Michael pushed that thought away like he did every time it slipped in uninvited and collapsed next to Kyle on his expensive leather couch. It’s been two years since Michael’s last glimpse of Alex, no contact from him outside of the impersonal birthday and holiday cards that had begun after Michael mailed his ‘I’m sorry I dropped in your life’ letter. They’ve officially been apart longer than they were together and still Michael couldn’t stop thinking of Alex daily.

Perhaps Kyle wasn’t the only one distracted tonight.

“Listen, I won’t bore you with the details and break our agreement here,” Kyle continued, knocking his shoulder against Michael’s. “I can still do you here-”

“‘Do me’, so romantic, Valenti. I think I’ll pass on getting a disinterested handjob, thanks.” Michael rolled his eyes at the offer and reached for the bottle of water from the coffee table to swish around his mouth before swallowing for effect.

It was Kyle’s turn to roll his eyes but fondly. “I could give you an absent-minded blowjob instead?”

Their eyes met. Kyle lifted his well-groomed eyebrow as Michael pretended to be seriously tempted with a stroke of his stubbled jaw in turn before they both broke and started to laugh helplessly.

If someone had told a seventeen-year-old Michael that one day he would be laughing with Kyle Valenti in his high-end, ultra modern condo after a failed conclusion to a ‘U up?’ text, well he probably would have been interested in the type of pharmaceutical high that would have made that possible. Hell, the Michael of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it either but that was before he met the post-med school Kyle that returned home to Roswell.

It had started one night at the Wild Pony, where Michael frequented more and more for the scraps of news about Alex from Maria. A practice she did her best to discourage, repeating her policy of ‘I don’t play messenger between exes’, which had given Michael hope that maybe Alex had asked about him. He had been one beer in, contemplating a second when Jake Frederick’s sneer had interrupted.

“I hear they’re finally opening a place that caters just for the fags in town.”

That word, not unfamiliar to Michael in Roswell, brought his shoulders up to his ears. Its ugliness brought back so many memories of how it was whispered, spat, scrawled, or just strongly implied whenever Michael and Alex had ventured outside the safety zone of the Crashdown or their own four walls. The Wild Pony once Maria had bought it was eventually added to the list, though some patrons still thought otherwise.

On cue, Maria’s voice barked from behind the bar, “Jake, you use that word again in here and you’re banned for life!”

There was a titter of amusement as Jake’s crowd of admirers teased him for the call out, before an artificial apology was offered in return. After a moment though, Michael could hear him perfectly well pick up his conversation, “it’ll be wall to wall fake wigs and limp wrists there, probably playing nothin’ but Alex Manes’s shitty music.”

The laughter echoed, and Michael started to reach for his wallet to pay for his beer. It was clear that tonight’s entertainment was focused on Michael. He thought at this point, without Jesse Manes drumming up hate for his son, that these bullies would finally move on to something new. Unimaginative pricks.

“Hey Guerin, you off to join your people at that gay bar?” Jake called, noticing Michael’s departure. “Gonna find yourself someone new to ruin now that your boy left you?”

Closing his eyes as he swept his hat over his curls, Michael said a silent apology to 17-year-old Alex for breaking his promise on violence. He turned, noting a few new faces gathered at the table, probably guys from the base with their short haircuts, along with a silent Wyatt Long. For all of Wyatt’s racist blustering, Michael knew he had a queer cousin in Austin. Still, Michael pasted a bright and fake smile, “those are my people at Planet 7, Jake, but how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not gay.”

“My mistake, buddy. Must have been all the cocksucking you do that threw me off.”

Michael laughed harshly, ignoring the movement in his peripheral, and stepped closer, his smile growing darker, “I’m bisexual, which means, not only will I feed you my dick, Jakey, but I’ll give it to your sister too. Just not at the same time. Unless you’re into that sort of thing? You look like your parents were into it…”

The slam of chairs falling backward as Jake jumped to his feet at the insult. After that it was more blurs of movement, jostling, and chaos as Maria shouted in the background about the police while Michael traded punches indiscriminately. At one point he realized he had help against his back, as the fight spilled outside into the cold, raw New Mexico night.

Dark spiked hair, a nice set of shoulders that gave Michael an inch or two of height advantage was all he could register in the melee. It wasn’t until the breaking of glass that was shortly echoed by the boom of a shotgun that the fight dropped into stillness and Michael recognized his unsolicited ally as Kyle Valenti.

Maria stood next to the door of the Wild Pony as a lone siren picked up in the background, “All right you assholes, you’re all out of here. Drop your weapons and fucking leave before I have the sheriff lock all of you up!”

“Gotta admit, you’re kind of the last person I expected to be fighting a bigot,” Michael commented, dabbing at a fiercely bleeding cut on his eyebrow. “Kinda remember it the other way around in high school.”

Kyle smiled humorlessly as he caught his breath, grabbing Michael’s shoulder to pull him away from the bar toward the parking lot as the sirens picked up volume. “Well, I remember you as being some sort of secret genius in high school. Taking on five guys seems kind of dumb.”

“It was just four guys, Wyatt wasn’t gonna involve himself or else Maria would have called his uncle and aunt on him.”

“Oh well, if it was just four guys, I should have stayed at the bar, I wasn’t finished with my drink yet,” Kyle quipped sarcastically, as he kept pulling Michael through the parked cars. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Fuck off, I didn’t ask for help-” He shook off Kyle’s hand, his previous pliancy in following Kyle at an end as he bristled with indignation. Whatever strange amnesia over what a dick Kyle Valenti was in general and to Alex in particular passed at the prod for gratitude. “And my damn truck is over there-”

“Can you even see out of that eye? Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Kyle answered for him and dug out a pair of keys from his pocket as an expensive sounding unlocking chirp echoed. Of course. The dark blue BMW in the sea of modest pick up trucks and domestic sedans was his. At least it wasn’t the bright red Camaro from graduation, that car had too many associations with it for Michael. The hatch popped open on the X1, Kyle leaned in to pull out a towel to toss to Michael. “I’ve got my bag here and I could use the practice in sutures, so?”

Normally the idea of a doctor touching him at all was enough to instill a mix of dread and panic, but Michael didn’t see anything in Kyle’s face other than genuine concern mixed with exasperation. The open air of the parking lot with police on the way seemed like a bad idea. “All right, free medical care is hard to turn down, but I don’t want your dad arresting me, so can we-”

“Your place, it is.” And then as they drove in silence, with Michael still holding the towel against his cut, Kyle spoke gently in the dark. “I was a dick in high school, I was even a dick in college. But then some things changed for me, um, so I’m glad Roswell is getting a gay bar.”

“No, no, high school homophobe does not come out as gay, not happening, no way-”

“No not gay,” Kyle cut his eyes over to the passenger seat, giving Michael a quick up-and-down appraisal. “Just learned the package isn’t really that important to me. I like sex. Med school was a small pool of sleep-deprived, competitive people and I stopped caring if they had a dick or not. I also learned a lot about anatomy.”

The appraising look, the hint of good-natured humor in Kyle’s eyes, and his suggestive words were all enough to push Michael to grunt, “changed my mind, your place instead.” He never took anyone back to his Airstream as a rule.

And that was the beginning of Michael’s almost-friends, only-benefits relationship with Kyle Valenti. It revolved around those unsaid rules from the first night, only at Kyle’s condo, and rarely did they engage in anything more substantive than talk about sports or the general stupidity of Roswell. The sex was easy, the conversation stayed light enough to fill the gaps of loneliness, and if Michael had been a different species, he might have considered it the start of something more permanent.

If only Max had been wrong. If only Michael hadn’t fallen in love with Alex as a teenager. The first year after Alex left had been devoted to trying to make it on his own financially and getting the down payment together for the Airstream. The next year he had tortured himself with believing that now that Alex was successful, he’d come back to Roswell, to him. Then after Isobel’s wedding and that trip east, Michael had to accept the truth.

Dating in the years since, women and the occasional out man, had changed nothing for Michael. It was still Alex filling his every odd thought, and especially his fantasies at night. Doomed indeed as Max warned him, to drift through life enjoying the surface companionship of others but never anything more.

The reminder of what he did have currently, good sex and the ability to laugh with someone, loosened some of the private rules that Michael had had kept to with Kyle. “So, I mean, you don’t have to, but if you want to talk about what’s on your mind, you can.” Michael tipped his head back against the couch to meet Kyle’s surprised expression. “It would make me feel better about my sexual prowess, okay? You nodding off during a blowjob hurts man.”

“Well, as long as it makes you feel better,” Kyle teased sarcastically before accepting the offer made. “I was thinking about my dad.”

“Kinky, but gross, dude.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

“Sorry, sorry, that was wide open.” Michael nudged his shoulder more seriously, “what about your dad?”

“He’s been acting weird lately. I actually thought he was drinking again,” Kyle waived his hand restlessly, “it’s an open secret my dad has been on and off the wagon. Most cops have a close relationship with booze.”

The Roswell circle of repeated gossipry was wide enough to reach Sanders, customers often needing to make some sort of conversation as they waited, so Michael was pretty familiar with the rumors about Jim Valenti. Most of them he ignored, like the infidelity whispers, because he could still remember the man showing up to Mimi Deluca’s house to offer Alex that first steady job in the face of Jesse’s smear campaign. An act that Jesse had retaliated by sponsoring a challenger to the next year’s sheriff’s race.

For a police officer, Michael cut Jim Valenti some slack in the character department. He also wasn’t a bad boss according to Max, though his brother’s opinion didn’t sway Michael as far as Jim’s act of kindness to Alex had.

“You said you thought he was drinking again, but he’s not?”

“Well, my other suspicion was he was cheating on my mom.” Kyle met Michael’s concerned glance with a tired, dark smile. “Yeah, not a great thought to have, but he’s been disappearing a lot. Acting paranoid too, he always carries but I noticed he kept his sidearm on him during Sunday dinner. Like he’s afraid someone is going to show up and attack him.”

“You think he was cheating with someone else who was married?”

“I can’t really figure out what’s going on with him, other than he’s lying. But I followed him today, and he didn’t go to work, he drove a hundred miles north.”

Michael blinked in reluctant admiration, “I guess you pick up stuff with two cops as parents.” He racked his brain for something more to say, but his conversational skills had never been gifted to begin with outside of charming someone into bed. “Um, in my experience, cheaters stay close to home. Like coworker, favorite waitress, etc. it’s definitely weird for your dad to drive that far for a little something on the side.”

“That’s the thing, he’s all secretive but it's over something nostalgic. I followed him to some old prison my grandfather worked at in the 60s called Caulfield. It’s been shut down for years. I can’t figure it out, and short of asking him directly I doubt I will.” Kyle shook his head again before inching closer to Michael on the couch, with a slow growing knowing smile, “So now you know where my head was when-“

“When I was trying to give you head?” Michael snarked playfully, picking up the change in mood easily. Apparently talking it out loud had released whatever mental block Kyle had been struggling with before. The moment reminded him of how he used to hold Alex at night, listening to him vent over the various customers in his day before he was able to wind down enough to enjoy any intimate touch.

Fuck. He was thinking about Alex again.

This time he let Kyle pulling him into a kiss distract him fully from the renewed spiral of remembrance. His body warmed slowly as Michael shut down his brain from wandering east again to Nashville.

***

“Your soul and your heart have been in such opposition,” Mimi murmured, holding Michael’s palm between hers as she gave him a reading at the Wild Pony. It was his way of distracting her while Maria gently soothed two customers that had received a deep lecture about the sins on their souls from her mother. To be fair, Michael could tell from their demeanor and close cut hair that each of them had served or were actively serving in the military, so Mimi Deluca probably wasn’t too far wrong from the mark with her lecture. “I know you’re a traveler, child, but this pull north and east could tear you in two.”

“My heart hasn’t been mine for a while,” Michael replied truthfully. Once he and Alex had moved in with one another, the small family of outcasts with Alex, Maria and Mimi had expanded to include him for a while. And once upon a time it had boasted more members like Rosa and Liz, but his sister’s actions had trimmed those branches in one way or another.

“That’s the east, and while it travels ever closer to you, you’ll never get that back. But north though, if you follow that path, perhaps your soul will find peace.”

“Not sure what I’d do with peace.”

“Maybe pay your bar tab once in a while?” Maria injected as she moved back behind the bar with a gentle hand on her mother’s shoulder. “And not starting a fight in my bar would also be a good start.”

“Come on, Deluca, I have been a very good boy since that last go-around Jake. I swear that kid is a closet case with how badly he seems to want me to lay hands on him,” Michael protested weakly. Truly he had only bent his old promise to Alex a handful of times in the last year and all of them because the Fredrickson kid had brought up Alex in some way. The comments about his job, clothes, and cheap taste in booze could all be ignored, but one word about Alex’s music or success and the gloves came off.

“Maria! Don’t be so mean to Michael, his people aren’t designed to live like this, divided in two.”

Despite the chill from Mimi’s words, Michael knew that Maria didn’t take her mother’s talk too seriously with how often she peppered her premonitions with nineties alien blockbuster movies. She always interpreted her mother’s words as being a romantic metaphor about a lost love.

Suddenly Mimi straightened, looking over Michael’s shoulder. “I guess good can come from evil dying.”

In the mirror over the bar, he caught sight of what Mimi saw. A grip closed over his heart, squeezing it until the fluttering motion ceased under the force as he watched Alex Manes move confidently through the crowd toward the front where Michael was with Maria. His head was shaved close up the back of his head, leaving a long, silky dark fringe over one eye and his face was bare of makeup and piercings. The black shirt sporting long sleeves made of crisscrossed fabric over a pair of tight black jeans looked more at home on Rodeo Drive than Roswell but the completely indifferent look on Alex’s face showed he didn’t care about fitting in to the locals bar.

Fuck it was so quintessentially Alex’s attitude from high school, before the shed, that Michael was having trouble remembering it had been at least six years.

“Alex Manes, in my bar!” Maria squealed, vaulting herself over the bar in one smooth motion to cross the distance to throw herself into his arms.

Michael’s mouth was dry as he picked up his drink to take a sip, feeling awkward and out of place. Should he offer his hand to shake? A hug? Could he pretend to be European and kiss Alex’s cheeks? What were the rules on an ex that he traded Hallmark cards with now?

A soft cool touch pulling him back from his spiraling thoughts to look up into Mimi Deluca’s clear and focused gaze, “he sings in the wrong key every night, but you know his song. You’re a good boy, you’re not rotten inside like your sister.”

Before he could do more than blink, Alex was suddenly next to them, looking at Mimi’s hand covering his curiously before smiling at Michael. “I would have thought you’d be tired of this place, after all those nights waiting for me to finish my shift?”

“Alex,” Michael took a deep breath, floundering for something more than the obvious, “you’re here. In Roswell.”

“It wasn’t really my idea,” Alex admitted gently, before taking a seat next to him. He reached smoothly for Michael’s glass to steal a drink from before making a face. “Oh man, it’s been a long time since I’ve had Crown Royal.” He fished out an expensive wallet to pull a crisp hundred dollar bill from a stack to lay on the bar, “Maria, please rescue him from this with some good tequila.”

Mimi gave Michael a significant look of encouragement before interjecting, “Maria, honey you should let these two get reacquainted, Alex isn’t going anywhere for a while. Jesse is dying, but he’s not dying today or even tomorrow.”

Michael jerked his head toward Alex, “that’s why you’re here? It’s your dad?”

A small smile of satisfaction twitched over Alex’s mouth before he nodded in confirmation, “Brain tumor. Doctor says he might have a month, maybe less. I’m only here because my brother threatened to go to the press if I didn’t show and my agent is worried about how that would look.”

“Oh.” Michael picked up his fresh drink, a high end alcohol he could have never dreamed of ordering for himself, out of a need to do something with his hands to keep from reaching out to touch Alex. “If I said that sucks for you that he’s dying, I’d be lying, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, Michael.” Alex clinked his glass against Michael’s softly, “I’ve been back for a couple of days, this was the first time I could get away actually. The movies all lied you know, cancer isn’t this quiet death. My dad is ranting and raving all night long, about aliens, about being murdered, about all sorts of random shit about Roswell and the crash and hands that kill. Your name has kept coming up too. I should record it and put it on youtube, make him famous too.”

***

#guerinweek20 #mgweek20 #malex #malex fic #guerenti #the lost decade #au after the shed #there will be a happy ending #angst first #pining idiots in love #roswell new mexico

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igirisuhito · 3 years

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Title: Live for the Night Relationship(s): Komaeda Nagito/Hinata Hajime Rating: Explicit Summary: Hinata has been single for quite a long time. Wingman Souda seeks to change that by bringing him to his favourite nightclub and introducing him to his rave buddies. Hinata, however, has eyes for much less favourable company. Based on @devilcouldweep‘s Rave AU Trigger Warnings: Recreational drug use, alcohol, sex under the influence, Mentions of drug overdose, discussions of stabbings, Public sex. Disclaimer: Other old fic with some stuff I’m embarrassed about. Quality is lower.

[Ao3 Link]

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"Souda…I look like a twink."

Hinata stared at himself in the mirror, reflecting on how long it had taken him to wrangle those fishnets that now clung to his chest and three quarters of the way down his arms. The elastic around his neck rubbed uncomfortably against his adam’s apple and every now and then the netting would catch on his nipples. The stockings had been much worse to put on, but weren’t uncomfortable in the same way the top was.

Over the fishnet top was a white crop top he had borrowed from Souda that sported a neon sunset and the words ‘Jabberwock.’ He recalled thinking ‘What the fuck is a Jabberwock?’ whilst slipping it on. To cover the fishnets on his lower half he wore a pair of ripped skinny jeans, less ripped and more gutted than anything. And to top it all off were these white platform sneakers he’d bought because they were ‘cool’ way before he realised they were platforms. Oh well, it’s not like he couldn’t use a few extra inches.

Hinata crossed his arms over his midsection, a pathetic attempt to hide the exposed skin. Souda simply laughed, joining his soul friend's side and slinging an arm over his shoulder. "That's the point man! We gotta reel you in some dick somehow!"

Hinata groaned as the boy cackled, threading his fingers under the fishnets adorning his hips. This was the first time he'd worn something like this, and no amount of shitty vodka cruisers were making him feel less insecure.

Souda himself was wearing these baggy pants with reflective stripes and numerous pockets and a pair of those popular light up shoes, the ones that change colour with every step. On the top half he wore a studded white leather harness that settled snugly just below his pecs and a sleeveless hoodie to make him look almost modest. His hair was it’s usual dyed neon pink and spiked as if he intended to use it as a weapon.

“Souda...you know I give more than I take, right?” Hinata muttered, almost offended that his ever-so-supportive friend had just assumed he was a bottom.

“Well lately you haven’t been doing either!” Souda grabbed his shoulders with both hands, practically shaking the poor boy. “C’mon man you look sooo good! If I was gay I’d fuck you!”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I’ve never met a straight man who’d wear a harness.”

“Uh, what about, literally every dog ever?”

“You’re not a dog.”

“Whatever! Let’s just go!”

Hinata snorted. It seemed entertaining Souda in his shitty attempts to get him a boyfriend was going to pay off. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah!” Souda cheered, pumping his right fist in the air and slapping Hinata’s ass with his left hand simultaneously. He couldn’t even be embarrassed, not when it was from So-not-gay Souda.

The duo took a cab to their destination, despite Souda insisting that they should walk to save money. Hinata would pay anything to not be seen outside in this. Especially not by somebody he knew. They were headed to a rave club in a less favourable part of town, one Souda insisted ‘wasn’t as bad as it seems!’ It was definitely as bad as it seems, like, there had been 3 stabbings in that club. Twice it had been the same fucking guy, and Hinata wasn’t sure if he should chalk that up to bad luck or blatant idiocy. Who would go to a club where they had already been stabbed once, just to get stabbed again?

Souda seemed to notice that Hinata’s thoughts were quickly going in a poor direction, so he decided to distract him with idle chatter. “I think you’ll like some of my friends there.”

Hinata turned to the boy sitting to his left, wearing a rather curious expression. “You have friends?”

“Shut up, you’re awful!” Souda whined, trying to sound mad but failing miserably. “Anyway, there’s this guy named Tanaka, he works at a zoo, how fucking cool is that?! Though he refers to himself as ‘The Supreme Overlord of Ice.’ I think it’s meant to be some kind of stage name or something?”

Stage name? What fucking stage is he working on at a zoo?

“Sounds like quite the character, huh.” Hinata murmured.

“You’ll get it when you meet him!” Souda beamed, glancing out the window. “Oh hey, we're almost there!”

The nervousness Hinata was feeling finally overtook the embarrassment. Souda gave him a reassuring tap on the shoulder as the taxi pulled up outside of the club. He could already hear the muffled music blaring from inside.

Hinata paid the driver and the two of them stepped out. The first thing they noticed was how fucking cold that breeze was, espeically when neither of them had proper sleeves. They both rushed towards the entrance, the bouncer barely looking at them before allowing them in. Hinata added that to the list of 'things that make this place sketchy.'

Nothing could have prepared him for the absolute assault on his senses that occured the second he entered the building. Loud music with heavy bass blared throughout the venue, drowning out the sound of Souda excitedly chattering next to him. The air reeked of sweat, booze, and artificial smoke. The strobe lights dancing around the place were quite dizzying, something that forced Hinata to look down to avoid the nausea. Oh, his shirt is glowing, they must be using blue light.

Hinata took a moment to admire the neon on his shirt, beginning to understand exactly why Souda had lent him this one in particular. It looked much less tacky and actually kind of cool under the bright lights.

“Oi, Hinata!”

A voice close to his ear startled him. He jumped back, sighing with relief once he realised it was only Souda. He too was glowing under the nights, his neon pink hair shining like a beacon and the leather harness glowed a soft shade of blue. It was really aesthetically pleasing.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Hinata spoke loudly, trying to make himself heard above the music.

“I’m gonna go find Tanaka and Mioda, you wanna get started at the bar?”

“Yeah, alright.”

And in the blink of an eye Souda was gone. Hinata sighed, disappointed but not surprised that his friend had run off almost immediately. He stepped out onto the dancefloor, shoving his way through the numerous bustling bodies and making his way towards the glowing neon lights of the bar.

He finally made it out, breathing a sigh of relief as he leant his elbows onto the scarred wood of the bar. If the amount of people wasn’t already overwhelming, the atmosphere just strangled the breath from him. It felt as if eyes were boring into him from all directions, judging, enticing. Hinata shook off the feeling, drawing it up to just nerves and the sensation of his exposed skin.

“Can I get you anything?” A voice snapped him from his thoughts, Hinata looked up, seeing the bartender staring him down like an unwanted guest.

He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. “U-um, yeah...could I get a shot of Smirnoffs?

The bartender nodded and grabbed a bottle from under the bar. She carefully poured him a shot of the cheap vodka, sliding it towards him before wandering off to serve other customers. She was quite a busty lady, definitely put in this kind of place as a means of encouraging more people to buy more overpriced liquor. She sounded cheery as she sparked up conversations with clubgoers, but Hinata could see those dark bags under her eyes, the way her smile dimmed as she listened to them. It was quite obvious she hated her job and was well aware that she was being exploited.

Hinata lifted the small glass to his lips, downing the shot quickly before setting the glass back down on the counter. He sighed off the burn and turned around, scanning the crowd to see if he could find Souda.

Instead of Souda, Hinata found his eye being caught by the boy to his left who was also leaning against the bar. He hadn’t been there a moment before, but Hinata was immediately intrigued by his glowing blue hair and odd getup, one not so different from his own.

His hair was a gravity defying mess, with the blue glow it reminded Hinata a bit of cotton candy. His chest was clad in a cropped fishnet quite similar to his own, though his arms were covered by a dark coloured coat decorated with glowing blue squares on the right shoulder. There was a pair of green and pink glow sticks fixed to his left sleeve just above the elbow, similar to how a student council member wore a red armband. Perhaps it symbolised something in a similar way?

Below his exposed waist was a pair of low riding jeans that were a bit lighter in colour, but not light enough to pick up the blue light. His belt was, however, along with the cuffs of his jeans resting just below the knee above his boots. Speaking of the boots, they were...eccentric. They were sharp with a pointed toe and a slight heel and somehow made Hinata feel a little less insecure about his own choice in dangerous footwear.

The boy must have noticed Hinata’s gawking because as his eyes wandered back up he found that stare being returned. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to mutter out an apology. The boy interrupted him before he could get it out, however.

“You’re new.” He smiled, leaning in close to make sure his voice was heard. “What’s your name?”

Hinata forced his hands into his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible as if he hadn’t been ogling the boy just a moment ago. “Hinata Hajime.”

“Hinata Hajime…” Komaeda practically rolled the words around on his tongue. “May I call you Hinata-kun?”

“Sure. What about you, what’s your name?” Hinata narrowed his eyes, feeling a bit frustrated that the alcohol wasn’t taking the edge off his anxiety.

“Ah, how rude of me. My name is Komaeda Nagito, you can call me whatever you please.” Komaeda smiled widely, as if exchanging names was further than he expected to get. “What brings you to Hope’s Summit?”

“Eh, I was peer pressured into coming by a friend.” Hinata muttered, a little embarrassed now that he had to explain his presence to a stranger. “I don’t usually come to places like this…”

Komaeda pursed his lips together, bringing his hand to his chin. “Hm, that makes sense. I’m quite the regular here, but mostly because I-”

“OI! HINATA!!”

Hinata snapped around, not listening to the end of Komaeda’s sentence. Souda was waving from the crowd, quickly approaching him with two other people trailing behind him.

“Oh, how awkward. I’m gonna head off. I hope to see you again, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda spoke softly, but just loud enough for only Hinata to hear.

Hinata turned back around to farewell Komaeda but he was already gone, likely he had already slipped into the crowd. He sighed, bringing his full attention back to the excited boy in front of him.

“Mioda, Tanaka, this is Hinata, my soul friend! Hinata, this is Mioda and Tanaka, my rave friends!” Souda beamed, hopping up and down and gesturing wildly.

“Hajime-chan!” A girl with black hair dyed with colourful streaks that had been styled up into horns practically squealed upon seeing Hinata, instantly rushing up to him and throwing her arms around the confused boy. “Kazuichi-chan never shuts up about you! So, are you into moshing? Raving? OOOOH you HAVE to listen to my songs!!”

The scene girl stared at Hinata with wide eyes that practically sparkled in the dark. He took a small step, only to bump straight into the other boy that Souda had introduced, Tanaka.

“Be cautious, mortal! It appears that despite only having entered this building mere moments ago, you have already encountered a cursed being…” He boomed in a gruff voice, grabbing hold of Hinata’s shoulders.

This only startled him further, leading Hinata to push Tanaka away from him. “Take a step back! Geez! What the fuck are you saying?”

“Guys I know you’re excited but give him room.” Souda stepped between Hinata and Mioda, encouraging the girl to exit his personal space. “Tanaka was just pointing out the fact you were talking to...what’s that guy’s name again?”

“Komaeda.” Hinata mumbled.

“Komaeda! Right.” Souda affirmed, smiling a little

“OOH! Creepy drug dealer Komaeda?” Mioda somehow sounded rather excited about that.

“Creepy drug dealer?” Hinata questioned.

Tanaka nodded. “That’s correct. That fiend uses this venue as a means of dispensing his poison.”

“Yeah, yeah! One of Ibuki’s friends O’Ded on a bunch of the pills he sold him! He’s no good! He doesn’t even dance!”

Hinata was a little confused. Yeah the guy was intimidating but not...creepy? Also, isn’t it the responsibility of whoever’s taking the drugs not to take too many? It’s not like Komaeda shoved them down his throat… Though admittedly the prospect of Komaeda being a drug dealer did put him off a little.

“He doesn’t seem that bad.” Hinata defended him, despite not really being sure why.

“You should probably stay away from him anyway, Hinata bro. C’mon, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea!” Souda cheered, slapping him hard on the back.

The other boy winced, feeling somewhat shaken by the events that were going down. Man he expected Souda’s friends to be eccentric but...they were fucking crazy. He almost wanted to go back to chatting with chill cotton candy boy. At least he respected boundaries.

“Right, sure. Hey, I’ve already had a few drinks so I’m gonna go take a piss. Feel free to get started without me.” Hinata flashed the group a forced smile, before dashing off into the crowd before any of them could object.

Once he felt thoroughly out of sight, he sighed loudly. It was weird that he felt more comfortable being surrounded by random people who weren’t talking to him than he did with that little bundle of freaks. That was until that comfortable mass of people suddenly reached out and grabbed ahold of his wrist. He froze in pure fear.

“Hinata-kun! How lucky it is that I get to see you again!”

His racing heart slowed a little as he recognised the voice along with that fluffy bundle of hair and much too exposed chest. It was just Komaeda, creepy drug dealer Komaeda.

“Jesus christ please don’t scare me like that!” He hissed, drawing in a little closer so he could properly hear the other boy.

Komaeda laughed cheekily, giving Hinata a big grin. “I’m going to assume your friends told you about the kind of person I am, huh?”

“Huh? Were you listening or something?”

“No, but it’s what most people who drag newcomers along do. I’m surprised they didn’t warn you earlier!”

“...Is that why you pounced on me at the bar?”

Komaeda bit his lip, averting his gaze a little. “Ah, I must have come on too strongly. I'm sorry, it’s not often people don’t outwardly reject me. Not that they aren’t right to do so, I’m quite worthless trash, after all.”

Hinata ignored the self deprecation, deciding to instead tackle the root of the problem. “So Komaeda, why do you come here then?”

“Socialisation, appreciation of the music, the fact the business doesn’t care if I deal here, I can dress like a male stripper without being judged. There’s a few reasons Hinata-kun, would you like to hear more?”

Hinata shook his head, feeling a little embarrassed by the fact Komaeda actually admitted the last one. “No no that’s enough. So uh, why do you deal drugs?”

“Hmm, why do you think I deal drugs, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata pressed a fist to his lips in thought. “Poor financial situation?”

Komaeda cackled as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard before shaking his head. “No, god, if anything it’s the opposite. I do it because it’s fun. I like giving people a new perspective on the world, a chance to enjoy themselves even more so than usual.”

“I see…” Hinata mumbled. “You aren’t dealing any like...hard drugs, are you?”

Komaeda waved his hands innocently. “No no not at all. I’ve tried heroin, that stuff is way too addictive for me to just be passing it around. I don’t deal any kinds of opioids at all, actually. Mostly just cannabis, MDMA, LSD occasionally. Oh! And ketamine, that’s been really popular recently.” He clapped his hands together in completion.

“Wow...so Mioda’s friend who overdosed-”

“Was an idiot, yes.” Komaeda sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his over his chest. “I did tell him to slow down, but you know how people can be. Getting overzealous isn’t going to make you any higher.”

“I guess...” Hinata was feeling a little guilty for bringing up something that obviously frustrated Komaeda. “Is that kind of high really worth risking your health for?”

“Well, if you’re smart about it you’re usually fine. Especially with stuff like ecstasy, the serotonin drawback is easily managed and the high is…” Komaeda’s lips curved into an impossibly wide grin and his voice dipped a little. “It’s really worth it.”

“R-really? I have heard that ecstasy is one of the more enjoyable drugs you can do...”

“Mm? You wanna try some?” Komaeda smirked, reaching into his coat pocket before pulling his hand out to reveal a small baggie containing several hot pink coloured tablets.

Hinata’s brain instantly recoiled. Years of anti-drug and peer pressure campaigns told him he absolutely shouldn’t. He didn’t know this man, he didn’t know this drug. Smoking weed in Souda’s garage didn’t compare to doing ecstasy with a complete stranger.

And yet he was completely entranced as Komaeda plucked a pill from the bag between two fingers. He smirked, looking down at the other boy like a predator eyeing up it’s prey.

“The choice is yours, Hinata-kun.”

Komaeda poked out his tongue, carefully placing the neon tablet onto it. Hinata felt as if he was on fire, especially after hearing his name on those sultry lips. The pill glowed under the bluelight, beginning to dissolve from Komaeda’s saliva. The boy huffed, urging him to make the decision before it disappeared completely.

That was enough to send the blood straight from the decision making centre of his brain and straight to the teenage boy part of his brain that said ‘Fuck it; he’s really hot.’

Hinata grabbed the taller boy, wrapping his fingers in the little fishnet crop top he wore. He stuck his own tongue out, pulling Komaeda in closely until their tongues made contact and he could pull the pill onto his own. It tasted bitter and tarty, but that elated look on Komaeda’s face kept him from pulling away.

The other boy took over, pushing the pill further onto Hinata’s tongue until the kiss had returned to his mouth. He eyed Hinata’s throat closely, continuing to kiss him deeply whilst watching for that telltale bob of his throat which came moments later. He’d swallowed it.

Komaeda broke off the kiss, not missing the little whine that left Hinata’s throat as he pulled away. He took another pill from the baggie and placed it on his tongue again before shoving the rest in his pocket. “H-huh...you want me to take two? Is that even safe...?” Hinata stammered, eyeing the other boy cautiously.

Komaeda drew his tongue back into his mouth, dry swallowing the pill as if it was what he was born to do. “What? You thought you were the only one getting high? I can give you another if you’d like.”

“No no, I just assumed you were already high…” Hinata spoke at a normal volume, which made him quite difficult to hear.

Komaeda broke into a fit of laughter, startling Hinata. “Oh wow you really haven’t done this before have you? I’m not going to give you any more, one is more than enough.”

Logical thought was starting to return to Hinata; he was nervous now. “That’s fine...uh...what should I expect?”

“Oh, right. It takes about half an hour to an hour to kick in. You’ll probably feel nauseous first. If you need to hurl, just let it happen. You should start feeling the effects not long after that.” Komaeda took a hold of Hinata’s hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles reassuringly.

“Right. Cool. That’s exciting. Uh, say Komaeda…” Hinata trailed off for a few seconds, but jumped back in to the sentence before the other boy could question it. “You mentioned earlier that you like the music right? What kind of artists are you into?”

“Hmm, I’m into more obscure artists than anything. Uhhhh...Have you heard of EDEN?”

“Never. “

“That’s unfortunate. What about...Deadmau5?”

“Oh I know him! Classic. Not a big fan of his songs though. Have you heard of David Guetta?”

Komaeda clicked his tongue. “Of course. Generic, but he has some good songs.. Porter Robinson?”

“Ehh I’ve vaguely heard of him? What about Dillon Francis?”

“Also painfully generic. Krewella?”

“Don’t know 'em. Martin Garrix?”

“Appeals too much to the masses. Uhm surely you’ve heard of Daft Punk?”

“Duh, who hasn’t. Their music’s a little too mellow for me, though. Avicii?”

“GOD Avicii! His music is brilliant. All his songs are quite tragic to listen to now though.” Komaeda breathed a sigh of relief, thankful they could find common ground amongst Hinata’s painfully vanilla taste. “Such an unfortunate loss of somebody with such shining hope…”

Hinata nodded in agreement, also recalling how heartbreaking it was to lose such a talented artist. They chatted for a short while about their favourite songs by him, bonding over their attachment to the lyrics. As if on queue actually, one of his songs started playing loudly over the speakers littered throughout the venue. The Nights, specifically.

“Huh. Ironic.” He murmured.

“Is it? He was a very talented and popular DJ after all.”

“Whatever! Dance with me.”

Hinata hadn’t noticed Komaeda let go of his hand during their conversation, so naturally it was his duty to remedy that. He grabbed ahold of those skinny fingers, pulling Komaeda closer.

Komaeda was quite surprised by Hinata’s sudden burst of confidence, but most certainly welcomed it. It wasn’t before long that they were both belting out the lyrics as loudly as they could whilst clinging to one another and swaying. Hinata felt absolutely ecstatic, as if he was walking on air with the prettiest boy in this stupid place.

Until the nausea hit him like a sack of bricks.

He gagged against Komaeda’s shoulder, cupping his hand over his mouth aggressively. Komaeda wasn’t kidding when he said he was probably gonna throw up, geez…

“Ah, sorry Hinata-kun, I wasn’t paying attention.” Komaeda chuckled softly as he slid his hand up the other boy’s arm a little, pressing his thumb into the soft part of his wrist an inch or so below his palm. Almost immediately Hinata’s nausea began to ease off, leaving him feeling quite delirious.

“Wh-what kind of spell did you just cast on me, Komaeda?” Hinata stared at Komaeda as if he were a god among men.

“It’s a pressure point.” He smirked, drawing in a little closer to bask in Hinata’s loving gaze. “If you feel better than you’ll probably be fine, luck is on our side.”

Hinata giggled, using his free hand to place his hand on Komaeda’s face. “You’re pretty.”

Komaeda returned the gesture, despite being a little upset Hinata completely ignored his explanation. “You’re high.”

“We both are! Y’know what that means?”

“What does it mean, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata answered the question by planting his lips on Komaeda’s. Which wasn’t really an answer, but he leaned into the kiss regardless.

It took no time at all for Hinata’s innocent kiss to turn more intimate. Soft swipes of wet tongues had the two of them melting into each other. Hinata’s hands roamed higher, fingers wrapping in those messy blue curls as he revelled in the texture. Komaeda’s hands drifted lower, settling on the other boy’s exposed hips as he lightly brushed his fingers over the skin.

Hinata curled a small chunk of hair around his fingers and tugged harshly, pulling Komaeda’s face even closer as their teeth knocked together. A low moan left his throat, absolutely enthralled by the pain rippling through his skull. This only roused Hinata further; the boy suddenly grinding his hips into Komaeda’s.

In all honesty, Komaeda didn’t expect to get this far. Of course he was attracted to Hinata, especially the innocent way he assumed no ill in his intentions. And Hinata was quite obviously attracted to him, evident by the was he completely undressed Komaeda with his eyes upon their first encounter. Hinata shouldn’t have come back after learning he was unfavourable company. Hinata shouldn’t have so easily warmed up to him. Hinata most certainly shouldn’t have taken that pill right off his tongue. Komaeda just kept pushing and pushing, trying his luck even further and it just kept working.

It was wrong, dangerous, but he couldn’t stop. Especially not now that both of them had basically thrown away all fear and impulse control with just one little pill.

So Komaeda did the same thing he had been doing all night, acting on those shameful urges of his. His hands slid over Hinata’s hip bones, then down to squeeze his ass through his jeans. Hinata startled, squeaking as he pulled back to take a breath of air.

Both of them were left panting, the room feeling significantly warmer than before. Not once did they break eye contact whilst trying to regain their breath, as if each one was trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Surprisingly enough, it was Komaeda this time who decided to make his desires clear.

He leaned closer, down as close as he could get to Hinata’s ear before whispering out one word, “More.”

Hinata moaned loudly, despite all that was done to him was purely audial. Komaeda couldn’t help but laugh, bewildered by the odd reaction. He went to straighten back up, but Hinata’s grip in his hair tightened. “K-keep talking…”

“Hmm? What would you like to hear,” Komaeda’s voice dropped an octave as he dragged the name out, “Hi-na-ta-kun?”

A whimper was contained behind Hinata’s lips as he pressed his thighs together, a weak attempt to steady his building arousal. Komaeda smirked, knowing he’d hit the mark. The drug was making Hinata’s hearing sensitive, so every sound felt better than it was in reality. He couldn’t deny that he was feeling the same way, but right now there was only one sound he wanted to hear.

Komaeda kissed his temple, trailing light little kisses down Hinata’s jaw until he settled on a soft part of his neck, giving it a curious lick. The other boy writhed beneath him, practically begging Komaeda to do something. He sunk his teeth in, eliciting a high pitched whine from the other boy as he pushed himself even closer.

“Komaed-aaaaa!” Hinata squealed, hitching his leg around the other’s waist. Komaeda wrapped his arms around Hinata’s back, ensuring neither of them lost their balance in the process. He sucked at the irritated skin, occasionally grazing his teeth across the wound. Hinata seemed to be getting a lot of pleasure out of it, judging by the way he rubbed his crotch against the front of Komaeda’s jeans. Komaeda couldn’t deny that he was mimicking those motions himself.

“K-komaeda...I can’t- I can’t keep doing this…” Hinata huffed, seemingly out of breath.

Komaeda pulled away from the boy’s neck feeling a little disappointed. “Oh? Have you finally realised what worthless garbage I truly am?” He topped the sentence off with a little laugh, one that he intended to be dark but was just high and giggly.

“No! Not at all! You’re amazing Ko! You’re making me feel so,” Hinata gyrated his hips, moaning out the rest of his sentence, “ so good.”

Never did Komaeda expect that sentence to make him so flustered. He swallowed hard, attempting to regain his self-control so he didn't start fucking him right there on the dancefloor. “W-we should take this elsewhere…”

Hinata’s eyes lit up as if he were a little kid on Christmas. He slid his leg down off the other boy’s waist and let go of his hair before straightening up and tugging his fishnets back up his hips, acting all proper as if he hadn’t been dry-humping somebody moments ago. “Yes. That sounds...great.”

They shared a nod, then Komaeda wrapped his fingers around Hinata’s wrist and began to lead him through the crowd. Hinata could barely contain his excitement, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of spending more time with Komaeda, being touched, touching him. It all felt much too good. It would also be great to relieve the throbbing boner that was chafing against his underwear.

Komaeda pulled them from the dancefloor, more towards the back of the building. Hinata swore he saw a flash of pink hair as they passed the bar, but he concluded that it was probably just the strobe lights. Komaeda pushed open the door to the men’s restroom, and suddenly they were stood in a bright room trying to blink away the burn of the lights. Hinata whined and squeezed his eyes closed.

The taller boy pulled him into the very end stall, clicking the lock shut behind them. “Hinata-kun, c’mon, open your eyes…”

Hinata grumbled, slowly blinking and rubbing at his eyes as they adjusted to the foreign light. Despite still squinting he was able to actually get a good look at Komaeda now. He was paler than expected, and that cotton-candy coloured hair was actually a snow white. His eyes were a soft grey, well, what he could see past those blown pupils. Those thin lips were swollen and red from their passionate makeout. He was just as attractive without those neon lights.

Komaeda stared, shocked by what he was seeing before him. Not because Hinata looked different without the dark lights, or the large red hickey decorating his neck. He threaded his fingers into his own hair, making a wheezy little laughing sound.

He couldn’t believe it, Hinata’s pupils were quivering.

“Hmm? Do you like what you seeeee?” Hinata giggled, clearly appreciating the attention.

“Yes, it’s just, wow...we should do this before you get over your peak huh?”

“Peak?”

“Mhmm,” Komaeda leaned in close to Hinata’s ear, “right now your senses should be at their highest point.”

Ridiculously enough, Hinata’s knees immediately went weak upon hearing that seductive voice again. Komaeda took the opportunity to place his hands on Hinata’s hips and force his back into the wall, the cold tiles burning at his exposed waist.

They kissed again, but this time it was sloppy and desperate. Komaeda’s tongue in Hinata’s mouth, then Hinata’s tongue in Komaeda’s mouth. Drool dribbled down Komaeda’s chin when he lost focus for a moment whilst unbuttoning Hinata’s jeans.

Komaeda brought his hand to Hinata’s front and began to palm him slowly through his boxers. Hinata moaned into the kiss, leaning into Komaeda’s touch until he suddenly changed his mind. He brought his hand to the other boy’s wrist, pulling back.

“Wait wait wait...could you fuck me instead?” He whispered, voice low despite not possessing a hint of hesitation.

Komaeda chuckled. “Here? Seriously.”

Hinata was confused for a moment before he noted the lack of space in the toilet stall. Komaeda shifted slightly, drawing attention to the way his shoes kept sticking to the floor. On the stall door and walls graffiti told tales of unrequited love and scrawled phone numbers. Everything about this was so gross, so filthy, so obscene. But that only seemed to make it all the more appealing.

“Pleeeeease fuck me, Komaeda Nagito.”

Komaeda put up his hands in a defensive pose, desperately trying to keep a grip on things before both of them got too out of hand. “Hooooold on, do you even have a condom?”

“Uuuuuhhh…” Hinata patted his front pockets then his back pockets. Fortunately his wallet was still there, but- Wait, something crinkled in the other pocket.

He pulled out the offending object and held it between two fingers. It was a condom in shiny green packaging. He couldn’t help but giggle, of course Souda had planted it on him earlier. “How lucky.”

Komaeda smirked, almost as if he knew this was going to happen. “Well, since you asked so nicely and even have a condom, I guess I can’t say no can I?”

“Y-you can say no!” Hinata protested.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.” Komaeda winked, plucking the wrapper from Hinata’s hands and shoving in into his front pocket. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, all night.”

If he wasn’t already feeling impossibly hot, Hinata would have gotten even hotter at those words. The sheer desperation dripping from his voice reminded him of his own poorly neglected erection. Komaeda wiggled his thumbs underneath the waistline of Hinata’s jeans and pulled them down, letting them sit about halfway down his thighs. He then looped his fingers into the elastic of the fishnets, pulling it back a little before letting it snap back against Hinata’s stomach.

Komaeda laughed at the way Hinata yelped. “God I would’ve loved to fuck you in just the stockings. Just look at the way they squeeze into your chubby little thighs! Soo cute, Hinata-kun…”

"You can fuck me in them next time, just pleeeeeeease hurry up!" Hinata whined, puffing his cheeks out to express his frustration.

"Next time? Well, that better be a promise." Komaeda smirked to himself as he pulled down the boy's stockings, leaving his underwear now completely exposed.

Komaeda crouched down to his knees, feeling a little performative with the way Hinata's eyes burned into him. He placed his hands on the boy's hips before bringing his mouth to the wet patch on the front his boxers. Perhaps he should warn Hinata that this was going to feel a lot better than he remembered…or not.

Hinata gasped, his fingers finding their way back into those curly white locks. This seemingly egged Komaeda on and he pressed his whole face against Hinata's crotch, taking in a deep breath.

"You smell really good…"

"Grooooss!! How perverted are you?" Hinata put on a chastising tone, but his intrigued expression was very much betraying him.

"Veeeeerry." Komaeda mumbled against Hinata's clothed cock, sending small vibrations along the skin.

He slid his hands back up, tugging down the waistband of Hinata’s boxers. The exposure of his hot dick against the cold air made a shiver go down his spine. Komaeda just gaped, in complete awe at how hard and wet he already was.

Komaeda stuck out his tongue and licked a long stripe from the base of Hinata’s cock to the trip, drawing out a long and high-pitched moan. Hinata couldn’t believe how fucking good it all felt. Komaedas breath hot on his dick, the texture of every single taste bud stimulating the sensitive skin, the fishnets digging into his thighs and the way Komaeda’s nails gently grazed over his hips. It was too much, especially now that the boy’s lips were teasing at the reddened head and sucking in such a lewd way.

“K-komaeda...I think I’m already going to come…” Hinata huffed, tugging at the hair of the boy below him.

Komaeda took his hands and mouth away. “C’mon Hinata-kun, at least try to keep it together.” He teased, despite wanting nothing more than for Hinata to completely lose his mind.

Hinata whined at the lack of contact, but he seemed to recover slightly as he panted and leaned further back against the wall. “It’s just...it’s really good.”

“It’s supposed to be. Ah, screw it, even I can’t wait. Turn around.” Komaeda murmured away to himself, beginning to undo the clasp of his belt. This action was followed by the undoing of the front of his jeans, then both his jeans and boxers being messily pushed down.

Oh! The carpet does match the drapes!

Unsurprisingly, Komaeda was just as hard as he was. Precome shimmered under the bright lights coating nearly the entire tip of his cock. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulling the condom packet out and tearing it open with ease. Carefully he pulled the object from the wrapper (which was swiftly shoved back into his pocket) and brought it to the head of his dick, pinching the little tip as he rolled the latex down the shaft. It was a translucent green colour…

Hinata didn’t realise he had been gawking until Komaeda let go of the tip and spun his finger in a little circle in the air, reminding him that he was asked to turn around. He nodded quickly and bit his lip, attempting to suppress the child-like excitement bubbling up in his chest as he pressed himself against the cool tiles.

Hinata stepped his lower half back a little from the wall, allowing his back to curve in a way Komaeda couldn't help but adore. To express this newfound adoration, he brought his hand down hard on Hinata's right ass cheek, relishing in both the debauched sound he made and the red handprint marring his skin.

“So meaaaan…” Hinata snivelled, sniffing away fake tears.

Komaeda giggled a little at the comment, tracing his index finger down between Hinata’s cheeks until he settled at his entrance. It was slightly lubed from what he had picked up off the condom, but definitely not well enough to cause Hinata no pain. He could only hope that the boy could handle it.

He pressed the finger in, finding there was little resistance. Somewhat relieved, Komeda added a second, an action that caused the Hinata to squeeze his eyes closed tightly and huff. “That burns…”

Komaeda planted his other hand on the wall and leaned in close to his shoulder, whispering as closely to his ear as he could. “It’s okay, you’re doing great.”

The next noise Hinata made was one of pleasure, likely from hearing Komaeda’s voice again. He took advantage of the opportunity and pushed his fingers deeper, separating them slowly as Hinata made another pained expression.

“You’re such a good boy, just open up for me please.”

Another moan, Komaeda spread his fingers fully, another cry of pain.

“Yes, yes, that’s it Hajime-kun.”

Hinata’s whole body shivered upon hearing his first name. He could see himself getting really addicted to this, but he wasn’t sure if he was referring to the MDMA pumping through his veins or the praise of the boy above him.

Komaeda’s fingers disappeared, leaving him feeling empty but not upset. It was a sign of more to come. Hinata felt his heart begin to race impossibly quick as the head of Komaeda’s cock rubbed up against him.

“T-this is going to hurt.” Komaeda murmured.

“Do it. Break me.”

The little self restraint Komaeda had left snapped immediately upon hearing those words. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and with some guidance he was already pushing into the other boy much too quickly. Hinata keened, his voice breaking halfway through that loud cry and he was left making a quiet raspy sound.

His whole body was on fire. He could feel Komaeda’s cock throbbing inside him, so desperate to start moving. His heart was pounding in his ears, feeling as though it was matching the muffled 180bpm music blaring beyond the walls. Telling Komaeda to do that was clearly not the best decision he had made this evening...along with pretty much everything else.

“You’re so ridiculously hot Hinata-kun...I...I think I’m losing my mind…” Komaeda wheezed, laughing softly as his breath huffed hot against Hianta’s ear.

Hinata moaned again and rolled his hips back onto Komaeda, he was getting antsy, he needed more. The pain didn’t matter, not compared to the urgent need to be touched and burn off this excess energy. “I stand by what I said, please, don’t hold back. I need more, Nagito.”

That was motivating enough for Komaeda, who moved his hips back before snapping them forwards. It didn’t hurt so much this time, in fact, it was actually starting to feel good. Komaeda nestled his head into the crook oh Hinata’s shoulder, smiling wide as he brushed his lips against his neck.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Hinata nodded, pressing his lips together tightly as he felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead.

Komaeda thrust into the boy beneath him roughly, relishing in the whimpering sound he made along with the slap of skin on skin. “Whore.”

Hinata resented the way his dick twitched upon hearing that word. “Wh-whore…?”

“Hm? That’s what you are, aren’t you? You come to a club, you ditch your friends to go do drugs then get fucked by a random stranger. I’d say that’s some pretty whorish behaviour.”

Oh shit, Komaeda wasn’t wrong. He’d completely forgotten about Sou-

Komaeda thrust into him again, stealing the air from Hinata’s lungs. An intense pleasure shocked through his body and he gasped, shuddering with a moan upon the exhale. He swore his vision went black for a moment as all coherent thought was completely wiped from his brain. “H-holy shit…”

“Easy to please, too.” Komaeda grinned and he could hear it.

Komaeda placed a hand on his waist and finally started fucking him with an actual pace, something Hinata didn’t expect himself to be grateful for. He moaned unashamedly, fingers clawing at the tiles frantically for something to ground him; secure him in a hold that wasn’t just Komaeda’s. How did he even have this much control over his actions right now?!

“So pathetic. I bet you never thought things would end up like this, did you?” Komaeda whispered in that irresistible voice of his.

Hinata’s only response was to moan louder.

“Answer the question, Hajime.”

“N-ah! No! I-I di- hah- didn’t!”

A hand slid up his side, tickling the sensitive skin as he brushed over it. It felt as if fireworks burst under every spot Komaeda’s fingers touched, making him tremble all over. It was too much, too much, he’s so so hot. Even the tears on his cheeks weren’t helping at all to alleviate that heat in his face.

“It’s- hah- It’s so cute how worked up you are.” Komaeda’s composure dropped for a moment as he moaned right in Hinata’s ear. If Hinata could have broken right there, he would’ve.

Komaeda noticed the way Hinata’s muscles clenched around him upon hearing him moan. It was amusing and devastating all at once. Even if he tried to pretend it wasn’t, the ecstasy was still making his senses overwhelmingly strong. Instead of continuing to tease the boy, it would be better to let his actions push him over the edge. He quickened the pace of his hips, thrusting rather messily as he stopped suppressing the obscene sounds coming from his mouth.

Hinata’s brain was going haywire, soaking in everything at once to the point of overstimulation. The sensation of the smooth tiles against his hot cheek, the fingers lightly grazing his chest, the sweat dripping down his back, the loud moans of the boy in his ear, the hair tickling at his neck, the physical presence of Komaeda above him, the head of his cock grazing against Hinata’s prostate, the feeling of his balls hitting his taint with every thrust that signified he had taken the entirety of Komaeda’s-

Hinata screamed.

Komaeda wasn’t sure to be flattered or concerned. The other boy convulsed beneath him, making a sound somewhere between a sob and a moan. He was coming already after all that teasing? That's no fair.

Hinata’s knees gave out beneath him, which would have put both of them on the floor had Komaeda not wrapped his arms around the boy’s midsection. They were both wheezing and panting heavily, to the point that Komaeda didn’t even have the breath to tell him to snap out of it. He pressed Hinata harder into the wall to force him to stay up as he kept thrusting.

The boy beneath him near squealed as his overstimulated dick burned against the cold tiles Hinata couldn't tell if he was in pain because everything felt too good, much too good. His body only craved more of that stimulation, more touch more movement more sound. "M-more…"

If Komaeda was capable of coherent thought at this point, he would have definitely stopped to question it. But his thoughts were filled with one thing, Hinata, and how fucking good it felt being inside him. Either Kuzuryuu had supplied him pills cut with viagra, or Hinata was a fucking monster.

Hinata nodded, laughing a little as he looked down and realised he was still just as hard as before. "K-keep going…it hurts."

“Hinata-kun...hah- Hajime. ” Komaeda moaned, bringing both of his hands down to cling to Hinata’s hips and he pounded into him without abandon.

Hinata was completely pressed to the wall now, crying as his face was forced into the tiles. Every time Komaeda pushed back into him his body shuddered as pain and pleasure rippled through. There was no chance to push Komaeda away, he felt so light and weak, muscles completely surrendering as he whimpered against the tiles.

“I love you, I love you so much Hajime-kun!”

“I- hiii- I love you too, aha, Nagito…”

The logical part of his brain knew that that was wrong. How could he love somebody who he just met? But the logical part of his brain couldn't talk, and all he knew was that this kind of intimacy was loving, anybody who would touch Hinata was somebody he loved.

Komaeda giggled, his voice raising into a high pitched whine as he began to chant Hinata’s name. “You’re so good Hajime-kun! Hajime-kun Hajime-kuuuun!!!”

His thrusts became more erratic as he dug his nails into Hinata’s skin. He was so so so close he just needed a little bit more and he could-

“N-nagito!” Hinata wailed. “That hurts!!”

Koameda came with a loud cry, riding out his orgasm with slowed movements. Hinata was bawling now, snivelling and whimpering with small sounds that almost could’ve been Komaeda’s first name. The boy above him burned with shame as he realised he’d just come to Hinata crying his name and he liked it.

He pulled out of Hinata, then yanked up the boy’s underwear and sat him on the toilet seat, waiting for him to ride out the vertigo from his sensory overload. His tears had seemingly weaned off just from being sat down with nothing to touch him. Hinata stared with a blank expression, small sobs occasionally leaving his throat as Komaeda begun to clean himself up.

He pulled off the condom and tied it at the end, dropping it in the box designated for sharp waste, not that it was sharp waste, but rather it was convenient. Komaeda then tucked himself back into his boxers, pulling them and his jeans back up to where they sat on his hips previously before doing up the fly. Hinata made a whiny little noise, suddenly being brought back to earth. Komaeda knelt down in front of the toilet, bringing his hand up to the boy’s cheek. “Hey, are you okay?”

Hinata nodded. For some reason he was expecting the ecstasy to completely wear off once he came, but of course it didn’t. He still felt light and giggly, but even more so now that he was completely exhausted. “H-how can you still be moving…?”

“I’ve done this a few times before.” Komaeda smiled, before realising the implications of his words. “Ah, not having sex in a public bathroom, but MDMA.”

Hinata responded with a sound of acknowledgement.

Komaeda eyed his clothed erection. “I’m surprised you’re still hard after all of that. Would you like me to do something about it?”

Hinata shook his head. It was understandable, his nerves were probably on fire right now.

“Here, stand up so I can clean the cum off your stomach.” Komaeda stood up, extending an arm to the other boy.

He took it graciously, his knees stuttering a little as Komaeda hauled him to his feet. He flushed bright red upon remembering that they had been having very loud very public sex just moments ago. “That was....really good.”

Komaeda nodded, ripping some toilet paper off the roll, before bringing it to Hinata’s exposed belly. It tickled a bit, so he looked away to distract himself, only to stare directly at the white fluid that was dripping down the tiles now. God he was so disgusting.

“Oh, it got on your shirt too. Sorry…” Komaeda murmured, wiping that down as well.

“It’s f-fine, I’ll just wash it before g-giving it back to Souda.” Hinata stuttered out.

Komaeda snorted. “You sure Souda-kun’s gonna want it back?”

“Y-you’re a dick.” Hinata grumbled, punching the other boy’s shoulder lightly.

Komaeda seemed content with his job, kissing a soft reassuring kiss to Hinata’s cheek as he tossed the soiled paper into the toilet. He grabbed another bunch to clean up Hinata’s mess on the wall, which only made the boy feel more embarrassed.

“So what’s your plan now, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asked the question without even turning to look at him. “Are you going to head back to the dancefloor or are you wiped?”

“I’m fucking wiped. But...I- I really want to keep going!” Hinata sighed, examining the damage to his shirt.

“In what sense?”

“Um, I wanna keep enjoying this...I guess? Going home alone to sleep just sounds like a waste…”

“Oh!” Komaeda spun around to look at Hinata. “I should’ve mentioned it earlier, but you’ll probably have a hard time getting to sleep.”

“Oh, great, that’s exciting!” Despite the remark being obviously sarcastic, the tone of Hinata’s voice didn’t quite express that. “Well, what do you plan to do?”

“Go home alone and try to go to sleep.”

“Oh.”

The silence between them stretched out for way too long, it was even more uncomfortable because Hinata couldn’t stop making these awkward giggly noises. Komaeda finished cleaning up and tossed the other bit of soiled paper into the toilet before flushing it.

Hinata suddenly broke the silence with a question. “Do you wanna come to my place and cuddle?”

Komaeda broke out into a loud cackle, one that made Hinata’s heart ache from the supposed rejection. “Oh Hinata-kun, please don’t toy with my feelings like that! We couldn’t do such a thing after I...defiled you in that way.”

“Huh?! What are you talking about?” Hinata pouted, grabbing his stockings and pulling them up. “C’mon it’s a good idea! Neither of us would have to be alone and we can still enjoy the high!”

Komaeda shook his head. “Why would you want to do something so intimate with somebody like me?”

“Because I like you! Is that not evident by the fact I let you fuck me in the ass?!” Hinata snapped in frustration.

A snort came from one of the other stalls. Hinata bit his tongue and pulled up his jeans, avoiding meeting the other’s gaze. Komaeda also looked incredibly sheepish as he did up his own belt. The two of them waited for whoever was in there to be done, wash their hands and leave before speaking again.

“What’s up with that scar on your abdomen?”

“Oh this?” Komaeda traced his finger over a small line near his navel. “Funny story actually, you remember that guy I mentioned earlier who overdosed?”

“Yeah?”

“I refused to pay his medical bills so he stabbed me!”

Hinata was shocked, but also not surprised as he laughed softly. “That’s terrible Komaeda!”

Komaeda seemed to find it even funnier than he did. “You’re telling me! That was the second time I’ve been stabbed here!”

The pieces clicked together in Hinata’s mind. Of course the guy who got stabbed twice at Hope’s Summit was the one he’d fallen for. It only made some stupid sense. He slapped his palm into his forehead and giggled. “Okay, you’re definitely coming home with me, I need to hear more about this.”

Komaeda sighed in defeat. “I’ll come home with you, sure. But you’re going to regret it.”

“I won’t.” Hinata reached up and ruffled Komaeda’s hair, eliciting a smile from the other boy as he pushed the stall door open.

Hinata blinked his bleary eyes open. He was hot, sweaty, and feeling incredibly heavy. A mess of white hair lay upon his chest, drooling onto his left pec. He groaned, slowly reaching over to the highstand on his left to grab his phone without waking the sleeping Komaeda.

5:19pm

29 / 4 / 2020

37 Missed calls from Souda Kazuichi

#Danganronpa #Ficgiri #Hinata Hajime #komahina #komaeda nagito

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propsandmayhems · 4 years

Note

Can you use the prompt “Can I kiss you?” with your favorite ship?

omg literally thank you sm anon because this was so much fun to write!! i got this ask and immediately started writing!!! i did blackdale which is not my fav ship ever but i just was so inspired so i hope u like

i also posted on ao3 since it ended up being so long

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucie Herondale x Jesse Blackthorn

Lucie Herondale should be happy.

For the first time in over a year, everything was going well. They had defeated Belial and Tatiana. Her brother and her parabatai were happily married. Matthew had quit drinking and was beginning to heal. She and Grace had successfully returned Jesse back to life and convinced the Clave it was done by Belial, not by their own involvement in black magic. She still had her family, her friends, her Marks, and was learning more about her powers with the help of her Uncle Jem.

Yet there was still something missing.

Upon his return to life, the Clave - in an uncharacteristic act of generosity - had given Chiswick House to Jesse. For the past three months, he had holed himself up in the great stone pile, working to attempt to return the grand house to its former glory.

The first month after she and Grace brought Jesse back, Bridget had begrudgingly driven Lucie out to Chiswick House every day. She would bring all sorts of offerings - new books; freshly baked jam tarts; perfectly sharpened daggers and even a brand new sword, the blade stamped with a ring of thorns that matched the pattern on his locket, which she had ordered in from Idris. Jesse would always meet her at the front door, attempt to refuse the gift, finally accept and then bid her goodbye. That first month, he never once invited her in.

But Lucie Herondale was nothing if not persistent.

The second month, he continued his work on Chiswick House. One day, the carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of a newly installed wrought-iron gate. “Well, this is new,” Lucie heard Bridget drawl from the driver’s seat. Hopping down from the carriage, Lucie took in the new gate, black metal soaring up into the gray London sky. On the very top of the gate, curving bars formed the words ‘Blackthorn Hall.’

“I’ll walk up from here, Bridget,” Lucie called over, while quickly scribbling an open rune on the metal. Slipping through the gate, she made her way up the stone drive, her boots lightly crunching the rock under her foot.

Looking around, Lucie could tell that Jesse had already made wonderful progress with the house. The front lawn was manicured and free of the overgrown weeds that had overtaken the hedges along the drive. Despite it being a dreary day, the white stone facade of the house even seemed to shine brighter.

Lucie had made it to the door and before she could take the knocker in her hand, it swung open. Jesse stood on the threshold, black hair tumbling in front of his eyes. He was in shirtsleeves, as he nearly always was when Lucie visited. Lucie couldn't bring herself to be scandalized, since she had grown so used to seeing him in shirtsleeves in his ghostly form. He wore no tie and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing the entire curve of his throat and his un-Marked skin. “I was in the study and I saw you walking up the drive…” he began, and then wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Where’s your carriage?”

“At the front gate. Bridget and I stopped to admire the new gate you installed. ‘Blackthorn Hall?’” She asked, to which a blush rose up on his cheeks. It still startled her to see him with colour on his face.

With a small smile, he nodded, “yes. Do you like it?”

“I do,” she grinned and then held up the basket she had carried up. “I brought you scones.”

“Oh,” he said, flatly. Lucie’s smile fell, and he hurriedly added, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a scone.”

“You’ve never had a scone?” She exclaimed. “How can you even consider yourself an Englishman?”

He laughed - a beautiful, sonorous laugh - and then looked at her for a moment. “Would you like to come in for tea?” He finally asked.

“I would love that,” she smiled. Jesse stepped aside to let her and the scones into the house, closing the door behind her.

Jesse led her through the foyer and up the staircase, then down a hall and into a drawing room. Although the wallpaper and decor in the room were dated, the wood of the furniture was polished to a shine, and the dust that had previously coated the walls had been cleaned away. A fire was roaring in the hearth, battling away the dampness of the cool, November day. Above the mantle, the sword she had brought Jesse was balanced on two pegs.

“Oh,” she breathed when her eyes caught the blade. Noticing what she was looking at, a flush traveled up his exposed neck and settled on his cheeks. “I am so glad that you like it.”

“I-” he began and abruptly stopped, his face morphing into an expression she was unable to identify. “Maybe you should go,” he said suddenly. Lucie’s face scrunched up in confusion as he stepped back from her. “If anyone found out you were here, just the two of us… you would be ruined.”

Lucie huffed. “Not like there are hordes of men knocking down the doors of the Institute asking for my hand in marriage anyways, Jesse.”

Watching his shoes intently, he took another step backward. “Please, Lucie, just go.”

“Fine,” she replied sharply, dropping the basket of scones on the conversation table on her way out.

After that, Lucie did not return to Blackthorn Hall. She hadn’t heard from Jesse in nearly two months. Now, Lucie watched from across the ballroom as her parents greeted the families arriving for the annual Christmas ball. Faces seemed to blur by her - the Wentworths, the Townsends, the Pouncebys.

Then Jesse Blackthorn walked through the ballroom doors. Lucie was convinced her heart truly stopped beating. He was dressed immaculately; all his clothes were obviously new and flawlessly tailored. His dancing oxfords were unscuffed and the black of his tailcoat was balanced by the crisp white of his waistcoat. He was a perfect picture in black and white, the only color in the entire image being the green of his eyes - which were fixed on Lucie.

When their eyes met, Lucie’s heart restarted at triple-time. All but ignoring her parents’ greetings, he moved across the room to Lucie with purpose. Too fast and not soon enough, he was standing close enough for her to reach out and touch him. But the memory of the way he had told her to leave flickered in the back of her mind. “What are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms across the red bodice of her gown.

“Well, the entire Enclave is invited to the Christmas ball, and I am a member of the Enclave.” He pointed out, to which Lucie rolled her eyes. He took a small step closer to her and continued, “is there a place we can talk, privately?”

Lucie looked around. Many were watching them, as Jesse wasn’t exactly covert in making his way over to her. A small voice in her brain was screaming no, you will be absolutely ruined! You will never be married as is, you are only making it harder for yourself! But her heart was thumping out the sound of Jesse’s name. She nodded, “yes. Follow me.”

With a relieved smile, Jesse followed her down the same hall that led to the games room and into one of the lesser-used withdrawing rooms. A fire had not yet been started in the room and the air was frigid, causing goosebumps to rise up on Lucie’s arms. After closing the door, Jesse turned to face her. In the witchlight that illuminated the room, the green of his eyes was the same colour as the canopy of trees in Brocelind Forest. “I’m sorry,” he started, moving closer to her. “I am truly sorry for the way I acted these past few months, and especially the last time you came to visit me. May I be frank with you, Miss Herondale?”

Lucie swallowed and nodded, unable to form words.

He took another small step closer to her. “You have permeated every inch of my mind. I see the colour of your eyes in the sky and the curl of your hair in the branches of trees. I hear your voice narrating the books I read. When I try a new food, I find myself wondering if you like it. When I manage to sleep, I dream of you. That first month… every day you came to my door and it was all I could do to not gather you in my arms, to feel your warmth. You risked everything for me - you could’ve had your marks stripped! I am not worth what you could’ve lost.”

She stared up to him, blue eyes wide. “I knew exactly what could’ve happened to me and I chose to take the risk. Because I care about you. I care for you in a way I have never cared for anyone else.” Gathering her red skirts, she moved towards him. “I, of course, would have done the same thing for my family or my parabatai; but I feel for you in a different kind of way. I can’t explain it, but some part of me just longed to have you beside me - to be able to reach out and touch you.” Tentatively, Lucie extended her arm across what little space was left between them. Laying her hand gently over his shirt-clad chest, she felt his newfound warmth for the first time. She remembered how cold he had been when he had been a ghost. But now, the heat from his skin radiated from under his shirt, warming the chill from her skin in the frosty room. “Is this okay?” She asked, and he nodded slowly.

“Lucie…” He began, searching her blue eyes with his own green pair. “I just fear I will never be what you deserve. I am not a man with any sort of honor. I live in a house tainted by years of demonic activity. I cannot even bear marks like a real Shadowhunter.”

“It is not up to you to decide what I deserve,” she said. She meant to sound menacing, but her voice came out as barely above a whisper. Unblinking, Jesse reached up and caressed her cheek.

The heat from his hand on her cheekbone sent sparks of fire all the way down to her toes. Lucie let her eyes flutter close and leaned further into his touch. He was warm, so so warm, almost burning hot. She quickly forgot the lack of fire in the room. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, thumb drifting over her lips.

“Yes,” she breathed, and in an instant, she was gathered up in his arms. The hand that had been resting on her cheek moved to cup her neck, sending jolts of lightning down her spine. Jesse partially bent down and partially pulled her up to him, connecting their lips. Lucie’s mind whirred with the softness of Jesse’s lips on hers, his hand on her neck, his other hand grasping at the silk bodice of her dress. I can finally write the perfect kissing scene! She thought with joy, then realized, wait… am I supposed to be doing something?

Slowly, she lifted her arms up around Jesse’s neck, coming to rest at the edge of the collar of his tailcoat. Wisps of his black hair brushed against her fingers. She turned her head slightly, allowing herself better access to move her lips gently against Jesse’s without clacking their teeth together.

Raising herself further on her tip-toes, she brought herself closer to Jesse. His hand at her waist encircled her tighter, bringing her body flush against his. Every one of her nerves was alight with the feeling of him surrounding her. His scent, his warmth, his taste. Lucie had never even considered that you would taste the person you were kissing! She had never liked the flavor of mint tea before, but she loved the way it tasted on Jesse’s lips.

Unexpectedly, Jesse removed his lips from hers. Dipping his head down, he laid kisses along her exposed collarbone. “You are my shining light,” she felt him murmur against her skin, his breath hot and his body alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She thought if she tried hard enough, maybe she could just melt into his touch and completely lose herself in the warmth of his embrace.

A quick rap at the door of the withdrawing room caused them to spring apart from each other. “Lulu?” her father’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you in here?”

She looked to Jesse in panic and then quickly remembered that Jesse was very much visible to everyone now. However, if Will walked in and saw the state they were in, Jesse was very likely to return to his previous ghostly mode of being. “Yes, I’m here! I just came in to… fix my shoe.”

“Cariad…” He sighed, and she could picture her father pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you come back here with Jesse Blackthorn.”

“Jesse Blackthorn? I led him to the games room, you could see if he is there if you need him.”

The door handle jiggled. “Open this door or I will.”

Lucie looked to Jesse with a sheepish smile. He had an unreadable look on his face as he reached out to gently stroke her cheek before turning and moving towards the door. Lucie watched him brace himself as he pulled the door open, expecting to face the pure fury of William Herondale.

Instead, her father was grinning from ear to ear, with Tessa by his side. “See, Tess, I told you! She was not visiting Chiswick House every day just to ‘lend the support of the London Institute.’”

“Papa!” Lucie threw her hands up. Jesse looked as if he was about to faint.

Tessa rolled her eyes and waived off her husband. “Yes, yes. I always thought it would be Matthew, but you were right, as always.”

Lucie gaped at her parents. “Were you two betting on who I would marry?”

“Yes,” Will shrugged nonchalantly. Tessa nodded in agreement

Taking her husband by the arm, Tessa began to drag Will back towards the main ballroom. “Come along then, dear. I left Gabriel in charge of greeting the guests.”

Will looked at his wife, completely dismayed, and then the two dashed down the hall and back towards the ballroom.

Jesse turned to her, still frightfully pale. “Marry?”

Her mouth went dry. “I… I didn’t mean - I don’t expect -” she stammered, fidgeting under his green gaze.

Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “It would be my absolute honor.”

#blackdale #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #wessa #will herondale #tessa gray #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #the last hours #tlh #carley writes

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ibblescribbles-archive · 4 years

Note

Hello! Do you have any tips on how do you make the hair so glossy and beautiful? It’s one of the things I adore most out of your style!

hello!! thank u so much! i’m happy that you like it, ive struggled a lot (n still do) to make hair shading look nice ^^; i don’t know if i can give many tips but i can at least walk you through my general hair shading process under the cut! for a less wordy process, you can also check out the speedpaints on my yt!

starting with the base color, i try to pick a bright/light color bc with the way I shade the base color ends up becoming part of the highlight, if that makes sense! It’s a lot easier when I’m coloring white or black hair (see below) bc I just use straight up white for the white hair highlight or a shade of blue/purple for the black hair highlight, but w/ colored hair it tend’s to be a little trickier to envision what color will look best against the shading! i can always paint over the highlights later but it does make the process easier if i pick a color that works well right off the bat!

i started w/ a bright pastel pink for this drawing despite the character having a more muted hair color bc i think the best highlights are vibrant n saturated! also i just like pastel colors!

i then airbrushed a gradient around where her highlight will be. i picked yellow bc i think it compliments the pink tone nicely, and it means the actual highlight will have a slight gradient n appear softer in the end, though i don’t always do this step ^^; as for where to put the highlights, it varies depending on the hairstyle but i put them around the middle of the bangs kind of like a “halo” or crown effect! i use the texture lines that are in the lineart to help me decide placement as well; the HL will go right above those lines! her hair is pretty short but i also airbrushed some yellow near the ends of her hair to act as highlights for the longer strands. the longer the character’s hair the more highlights i’d add lower down

next i took a shade slightly darker than the base color and used it to shape the highlights into the basic form that i wanted them to be in! i think this is probably the most crucial step to achieving that glossy look. even though i’ll be refining it more, the hair already looks shiny w/ just the color and rough shapes! i usually go for rough “tear drop” shapes for the shadows, originating from roots and tips of the hair. the highlight shape looks like?? maybe bat wings, but it kind of naturally forms bc of the teardrops. i can’t really explain why i choose this shape, and i do change it sometimes, but i think it achieves the shiny effect bc it mimics the way reflected light wraps around shiny objects! if you notice, i try to separate the shapes by sections of hair. the more i section it out in the lineart, the easier it is to make the shapes when shading ^^

not much to say here, i just took the base color and used the marker tool to clean up the shapes! at this point since i’ve started blending colors, the eyedropper tool is my best friend

i then took a couple darker shades and used them around the roots as well as the actual shadows of the hair. i’ve also put some right up against the bottom of the highlights, under the texture lines! putting darker shades against the lighter ones creates contrast and adds to the illusion of being reflective and glossy! the texture lines themselves also help bc they darken up those areas, but they’re more of a stylistic choice :3

i added colors and cleaned up the shading a bit by blending it so it’s not as messy! every object reflects the colors of things around it, and shiny surfaces like metal tend to reflect more noticeably, so adding colors that arent the same as the actual hair tone (in this case blue n purple) can make it look more reflective as well!

i changed the lineart color to match which helps soften it up as whole as well as color picked her skin tone and her hoodie to airbrush at the tips of her hair. not a necessary step but i think it gives it a softer look ^^

lastly i made some color adjustments on an overlay layer, and added some final shiny details like small sparkles n lighter colored texture marks, as well as thinner hair strands!! i could have refined the shading more, but since this was a procrastination doodle, i didn’t want to spend too much time on it ^^;

n that’s basically my whole hair coloring process! i’m sorry it was long winded, but since I haven’t done one of these in a while, I wanted to make sure it was thorough. no matter your shading style, i think the most important steps to achieving the glossy hair look are the colors you choose for the highlight vs shade/base and the shapes of the highlights! with those two things you can still achieve a shiny look in flat color pieces:

i often change the highlight shape to be more square or triangular as i see fit! i also find it easier to shape highlights in hair that is drawn with really clear sections, so if you’re having trouble it may help to use your lineart as a guide:

i hope that helps with your hair coloring endeavors a little bit and good luck w/ figuring out your own style of coloring!!final chiaki piece: X

#Anonymous #askibble #ibbletips #art tutorial

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years

Text

across the sea | a bokuaka fanfic (act. I)

inspired by the movie ‘portrait of a lady on fire’ by celine sciamma which is sad and lesbian

pairing: bokuto koutarou x akaashi keiji

word count: 21.8k words

contains: historical setting (actually the setting is vague bec if i tried to describe it more it would take 5 extra pages), heavy angst, slight fluff, greek mythology references, implied smut

summary: when Bokuto accepted a portrait commission for the young, engaged Akaashi Keiji, he never expected him to be so beautiful. he knows it's a mistake to be attached, a mistake for them to fall in love in a time when they know it's impossible for them to be together.

a/n: i’m a sad gay who loves sad lesbian movies and portait of a lady on fire is peak film. a lot of the things here are based on the film so i suggest you check out this beautiful movie, but i added a few tweaks here and there to make it my own.

chapters: act. I, act. II., act. III

“You’re not the first painter to come here,” the ferryman said. Actually, it wasn’t the first time Bokuto had heard that. And now, he was sitting in the middle of tiny, fishing boat, clutching his tattered suitcase and the thin, wooden box where he kept his canvases for dear life. Mostly due to the fact that if his suitcase or canvases found their way overboard, Bokuto would have no choice but to jump after them.

“Is he a terror?” Bokuto asked, deciding to make conversation with the ferryman anyway.

“A terror? No, none of the painters who came back looked scared. Maybe frustrated or lost is the right word,” the ferryman said. “He never leaves the manor but they say that he’s more beautiful than his suitor.”

“I’ve heard that too,” Bokuto muttered as he gazed over the horizon to the shore where the boat was headed. He wasn’t particularly fond of the job he had to take: a portrait commission. Bokuto would much rather work on the commission from the church in his hometown with his master, painting bodies and landscapes were his specialization. On the other hand, Bokuto was not as confident with drawing the human face, specifically, capturing emotion in the eyes. Which were very, very important for a painter hoping to make his own way into the world. And because of that, his master sent him off to the Elysium Estate, a secluded piece of land nestled along the coast of a provincial town owned by the Akaashi family, to paint Akaashi Keiji’s portrait to send to his suitor.

An hour later, the boat had reached the harbor and Bokuto promptly got off, grateful for steady, unshifting land, thanked the ferryman and paid the fee. Then, clutching his suitcase and canvases, he made his way up a rocky trail to where the estate was. Up close, the large house looked dark and gloomy, as if nobody lived there, at all, but it still looked quite grand with its Greek-inspired architecture and marble columns framing the entrance. Standing outside, as if expecting him, was a young man with short, black hair, dressed in a butler’s uniform.

“You must be the painter, Bokuto Koutarou,” he spoke, bowing formally when Bokuto walked up. “I’m Kageyama Tobio, the estate butler. If there is anything you need during your stay here, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks!” Bokuto grinned. “Um, no need to be so formal though. I’m just an apprentice painter.”

“The madam ordered me to treat you as such,” Kageyama said, holding out his hand to take Bokuto’s belongings. Bokuto contemplated it for a while and handed him his suitcase, keeping his canvases closely to himself. Kageyama opened the door to the estate and they walked into a foyer that was dimly lit by a few candles.

“It doesn’t seem like a lot of people stay here, huh?” Bokuto said as he looked around.

“Only the madam and her son are currently living here,” Kageyama explained, taking an oil lamp from the table and walking down a hallway near the grand staircase. “You will be staying in this room for the meantime,” he added, opening the door to a room that was much larger than Bokuto’s master’s studio. Inside was a large, four-poster bed, windows that almost covered the entire far wall, a fireplace, and an easel already set up. When Bokuto glanced at the wall nearest him, he could see a door that probably led into his own bathroom.

“Wow, this is… a nice room,” Bokuto said, unable to find the words to say.

“The madam and young master Keiji have retired for the evening but he has agreed to meet you for breakfast in the dining hall,” Kageyama said, leaving the suitcase on top of the chest at the foot of Bokuto’s bed. “Would you like me to bring up some supper?”

“Yes please,” Bokuto smiled politely and Kageyama left him in the dark, grand room. Bokuto took the time to start a fire to light up the room. Then, he unloaded his canvases. The wooden box that was custom-made for it was nailed shut and Bokuto pried it open with a small tool stashed in his suitcase. To his relief, the canvases were both as pristine and white as when he first packed them. Bokuto lovingly ran his finger across the surface, already eager to break out his paints and start the commission. Just for the sake of being able to paint again.

After a warm meal of bread and soup, Bokuto lay on the soft bed of his room and fell asleep.

The next morning, he was woken up by Kageyama knocking on the door. Remembering that he would be meeting Akaashi for the first time, Bokuto quickly washed his face and dressed into his best pair of trousers and a clean shirt before hurrying to the dining room. The room was half the size of the manor’s living room, but better lit with tall windows that reached the ceiling. The long table was set for two and already sitting there, was Akaashi Keiji.

The rumors about his beauty were true: with his tanned skin, hair the color of chocolate that fell in short waves around his face, his graceful facial features, and eyes the color of deep emerald that followed Bokuto as he walked to his seat. Under the table, he felt his hands itch for a piece of charcoal and paper.

“U-um, Bokuto Koutarou,” he stammered, remembering that he had to introduce himself. “Pleased to meet you… um, sir.”

“There’s no need for that,” Akaashi waved his hand. His voice was soft but he spoke and enunciated every syllable. “So, my mother sent you to become a companion before I’m carted off to Italy to get married. Hopefully, I get to enjoy some kind of freedom before that happens.” He paused and fixed his gaze on Bokuto. “What do you think about all this?”

“Well, your mother seems concerned about you and your health—”

“You don’t have to talk as if she’s here,” Akaashi interrupted him. “She’s the one who’s paying you, not me. Tell me what you really think.” Bokuto blinked at the interruption and one look at Akaashi told him that he would detect any lie. So, Bokuto decided to tell the truth, or as much as he could without spilling the fact that he was painting his portrait in secret.

“When I entered the workforce to get a job, I never thought I’d have to be hired to be a personal companion,” Bokuto chuckled. “But it beats working in a factory. About your situation however, I think it’s a bit sad.”

“Sad? Do you pity me?” Akaashi’s expression was neutral.

“In a way, I do. It must be lonely having to stay here. Maybe your mother hired me so you’d have someone to talk to. In a way, I guess I am perfect for job,” Bokuto grinned. “People say I’m talkative enough to hold a conversation for two.” Akaashi looked down at his plate, as if thinking over what Bokuto said, and then looked out the window.

“I want to go down to the beach today,” he said, Bokuto silently let out a sigh of relief. He had passed whatever test Akaashi had set up. “Accompany me after breakfast.”

“Yes sir,” Bokuto nodded. In front of him, he saw the corner of Akaashi’s lip turn up.

“I’m younger than you. You may call me Akaashi.”

An hour later, Bokuto made his way down the beach with Akaashi behind him, wearing a dark green scarf around his chin and a jacket over his shirt. Bokuto couldn’t help but notice how Akaashi looked at the beach as if it was the first time he was there, and perhaps it was his first time at the beach. Judging by how thin his frame was and his breathing that was almost labored while he walked down the beach, Bokuto could easily tell how sickly he was. Bokuto considered sitting on the sand with Akaashi, but another part of him wanted Akaashi to experience much more. As soon as they reached the beach, Bokuto kicked off his shoes and socks and walked over to wade in the sea.

“Come on,” he smiled and raised a hand encouragingly at Akaashi who eyed him curiously before taking off his shoes and socks, as well as his jacket and left them in a neat pile beside Bokuto’s things. He dipped his feet hesitantly in the water, before walking forward and joining Bokuto.

“Thanks to you, my mother allowed me to finally come down here,” Akaashi said, squinting at the horizon. “We came to live at the estate because the doctors said the sea breeze might do me good, but they kept me locked inside.”

“What do you do to pass the time?” Bokuto asked.

“Read, mostly. Actually, all the time,” Akaashi answered. “Even if I wasn’t allowed to go out, my father consistently sent me books and tutors so at least my learning was up to standard. My mother joins me in the library sometimes to work on her embroidery.” He looked sideways at Bokuto. “I know a lot of things, like the deepest parts of the sea we’re standing in, the trade routes that cross it, but I’ve never been in it.”

“Well, if it’s any comfort, yesterday was the first time I’ve been to sea,” Bokuto admitted. “I never thought waves could rock a boat so much. I was sick to my stomach and I almost threw up over the side of the boat.” Akaashi smiled wryly.

“Did you?”

“No,” Bokuto chuckled. “The sea was a wonderful blue, I couldn’t bear to throw up in it.”

“That’s good,” Akaashi nodded. “I’ve always wondered about how salty the sea is.” Bokuto raised his eyebrows, bent down, and cupped some water in his hands.

“Want to try it for yourself?”

“As long as you don’t tell my mother,” Akaashi snorted. He cupped his hands down under Bokuto’s and bent down, raising their hands. Bokuto felt Akaashi’s lips kiss the tips of his fingers as he sipped the saltwater. Akaashi raised his head, making a face that was half-grimace, half-look of curiosity, and spat the saltwater back into the sea. Bokuto laughed.

“How was it?”

“The saltiest thing I ever tasted,” Akaashi said. “Even saltier than bacon. But now I know how salty sea is.”

They spent the next few hours at the beach, even taking their lunch there after Kageyama delivered it in a picnic basket. Bokuto took the time to watch Akaashi as he picked up rocks and shells to inspect before returning them where he found them, attempting to memorize his unwilling client’s face. In his head, Bokuto pictured Akaashi in a fancy, green dress jacket that matched the color of his eyes, sitting with his hands folded over each other and perhaps a book on his lap. He kept that image in mind when he asked Akaashi if they could head inside. The madam, whom Bokuto was to meet the next day, called Akaashi to the library giving time for Bokuto to begin sketching drafts of the portrait.

He took his time, drawing different parts of Akaashi at first: his hands, his hair, his side profile and ears, his nose and mouth, and lastly, his eyes. Bokuto had to soap the charcoal off his fingers before joining Akaashi at supper, this time making less conversation to observe the details of his face. When he was alone in his room again, Bokuto laid the sketches out before him near the fireplace and made an attempt to draw Akaashi’s eyes again, only to give up on lie on the floor, trying to remember how the candlelight at dinnertime accentuated the planes of his face and the faraway look in Akaashi’s eyes that seemed to lead out to sea.

…

The next day, Bokuto sat in front of Akaashi Keiji’s mother, or Mikoto, as she preferred that he would address her, in the manor’s library upstairs. Out of all the rooms Bokuto had visited in the giant house, this one seemed to be the most visited by the madam and her son. Like the dining room, it had large windows that lit the entire room. The wooden floor was polished and books that have left their shelves to rest in stacks around the room showed signs of it being frequented, most likely by Akaashi himself. Other than that, there was something about the entire room that felt comforting and warm.

“So, you’ve met my son,” Mikoto said, sipping from her teacup. She looked a lot like her son: same brown hair, green eyes, and sharp features. His master told him that she had one lame leg, thanks to being infected by polio years ago, which prevented her from going around frequently. “How did you find him?” she asked, fixing him with her gaze.

“He’s, well, quite reserved,” Bokuto answered. “Yesterday when we had breakfast, I feel as if he was testing me,” he added with a nervous chuckle.

“Ah, Keiji tends to do that,” Mikoto smiled ruefully. “We used to live near a city when he was younger. But, because of his health, my husband decided to move us here for the sea air. That did Keiji’s health better but unfortunately, he’s had very little encounter with the outside world. When we told him about the marriage arrangement, he’s grown distant from me.”

“Is that the reason why nobody has ever successfully painted his portrait?” Bokuto asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Mikoto nodded. “Keiji’s strong-willed and scheming, despite everything. He knows that we need the marriage for our lands and wealth to continue remaining under our family name. He doesn’t directly transgress the marriage, but he makes it difficult for it to continue.”

“He’s probably prolonging it,” Bokuto said, suddenly feeling sad for Akaashi. Even though he was better off with a wealthy family compared to Bokuto who was taken in by his master after his parents died, Akaashi had very little freedom. And now, a marriage.

“Probably,” Mikoto set her cup down and looked at the portrait of her that hung over the fireplace. “Which is why we need you, Bokuto-san. Your master played a hand in helping seal my marriage by painting this portrait. He did well. And now, you must do the same.” Bokuto gulped. “Your master spoke very highly of you. Have you started on the portrait?”

“Yes,” Bokuto nodded. Early that morning, he had sketched a rough layout of Akaashi on one of his canvases. Without Akaashi there to pose, it took a great deal for Bokuto to visualize his position. But he wasn’t his master’s student for nothing. Bokuto was confident that he could paint Akaashi’s likeness.

“Well, I mustn’t keep you then,” Mikoto said. “Call Akaashi to come here. I’ll let you have a few hours to paint.”

“Thank you, Mikoto-san,” Bokuto bowed before leaving the library, closing the double doors behind him. He walked down the great stairs of the manor and was about to head into his room when he ran into Akaashi heading his way. “Akaashi,” Bokuto grinned, trying to make it seem as if he hadn’t just discussed Akaashi’s marriage with his mother just a while ago. “I was just about to look for you.”

“Well, you found me,” Akaashi said. He was wearing trousers, a light blue shirt, and a beige jacket.

“Your mother requests that you join her in the library,” Bokuto said. Akaashi made a face.

“I don’t feel like reading, I’d rather go outside,” he said. “Would you come join me at the beach again? It should be at low tide when we are there.”

“I-I would, but…” Bokuto stammered.

“Is there anything you’re preoccupied with?” Akaashi asked, stepping closer to Bokuto. His green eyes bored into his, searching for an answer. Bokuto relented.

“Of course not,” he shook his head and smiled. “Going to the beach sounds great.” Bokuto groaned internally, thinking about how fast he’d have to paint before sunset. And then, Akaashi smiled, excitement shining in his eyes.

“Let’s go then, Bokuto-san.” And somehow, it was all alright. The two of them made their way to the beach, walking side by side. Akaashi had the same scarf he wore yesterday tied around his chin. Bokuto walked in front of Akaashi when they made their way down the trail along the rocky side of the cliff. Every so often, Bokuto felt the urge to turn around to check how Akaashi was doing, and to memorize the look of his hands as they gripped the side of the cliff, the concentration in his furrowed brow, how his green scarf billowed behind him in the wind. As they neared the bottom of the cliff, Bokuto suddenly heard the sound of rocks falling and Akaashi crying in surprise.

“Bokuto-san!”

Quick as a flash, Bokuto turned around to catch Akaashi in his arms, holding a hand out to steady himself against the cliff with the other wrapped around Akaashi’s waist. Up close, Bokuto could smell the sea breeze already caught in Akaashi’s clothes as well as the slightest whiff of vanilla. For a moment, he wondered if he could catch that scent in the portrait he was going to paint.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Bokuto said. Akaashi stepped back, steadying himself against the rocky cliff wall. His one hand lingered on Bokuto’s shoulder before using it to pull down the scarf tied around his chin.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he spoke. Without thinking, Bokuto held out a hand to him. Akaashi accepted and the two walked hand-in-hand to the beach.

Bokuto soon found out why Akaashi was excited to go down to the beach at this time. After leaving his scarf, jacket, shoes, and socks in a neat pile again on the sand, Akaashi waded out to sea and bent down in search of hermit crabs and other creatures in the tide pools. Bokuto waded with him for a while before sitting near a large rock and taking out a piece of paper folded around a small piece of drawing charcoal. He decided to focus on drawing Akaashi’s hands, folded over each other, before finding his own hand moving by itself and drawing Akaashi’s eyes, his nose, the scarf tied around his chin that covered his mouth. ‘Stupid,’ Bokuto shook his head, realizing that he didn’t need to sketch the scarf for the portrait. He folded the sketch and stuffed it in his shirt pocket, rubbing the charcoal of his fingers on his pants as Akaashi jogged towards him with something cupped in his hands.

“Bokuto-san,” he stopped, holding out his hands to Bokuto to show a hermit crab scuttling in it. Bokuto let out a chuckle.

“I see you’ve found a friend,” he reached out a finger to gently stroke the crab’s shell. Akaashi had a small smile on his face. “Thinking of bringing it home?”

“No,” Akaashi shook his head. “I read that they easily get depressed when they’re alone. And I don’t think he would want to live in a sink. I just wanted to hold one in my hands.”

“Like when you held seawater yesterday,” Bokuto said, smiling at the memory. “But I’d advice against tasting this one.” Akaashi looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Very funny, Bokuto-san,” he said dryly. Bokuto snickered. Akaashi bent down and released the hermit crab into the sand.

“Let’s head back, I’m good for today,” Akaashi said, walking back to where his things were. “I know you still have some things to work on.”

“I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Akaashi held out a hand. “It was… rude of me to try to invade your privacy. I apologize. It’s just…” Akaashi pursed his lips and looked down.

“I get it. Kageyama isn’t the most talkative person around,” Bokuto grinned, sidling up next to him. “And I was hired to be your companion.”

“I don’t want you to think about it like that,” Akaashi said. “I know it’s not normal. It’s kind of sad that my mother would have to hire someone to be my friend here. So, can we both pretend that your salary doesn’t come from a fake friendship?”

“Well…” Bokuto shrugged. “If we’re going to that, want to add to the pretending?”

“How do you suppose we do that?” Akaashi looked at him curiously.

“If we’re going to be pretend friends, how did our ‘friendship’ begin?” Bokuto asked. “Maybe I was a boy from the nearby village who wandered here, wanting to see the Elysium Estate for myself. All the other kids say it’s an abandoned manor, a haunted one specifically. But I, a brave soul, decided to check it out.” Akaashi smiled and sat down on the sand to put on his socks and shoes.

“On that day, my mother let me read outside, just near the house of course. While reading my book, I couldn’t help but notice a noise coming from behind the house,” he continued.

“It was me, pelting pebbles at one of the windows,” Bokuto laughed, fully engaged in their imagining.

“Lucky for you, my mother was asleep and I happened to appear before you first.”

“I probably screamed like a girl in terror thinking you were a ghost.”

“And then I had to calm you down. And then tell you that there were in fact people living here.”

“And then I sense how lonely you are and invite you to play.”

“And then we play tag all morning and chase each other on the beach,” Akaashi smiled, eyes scanning the horizon again. “That’s a nice backstory. Though, it’s just a story.”

“It’s a good story,” Bokuto held out a hand and helped Akaashi to his feet. Both of them reached the manor a good three hours before the sun set, leaving Bokuto with enough time to begin mixing his paints to begin the portrait. It was probably his favorite part of painting, creating the colors to imprint a real picture on canvas. He mixed some red and white into a warm shade of brown for Akaashi’s skin, darkening the shade for his hair. Bokuto touched his brush to his paints and filled in his sketch. Then, he mixed in white and a darker brown for the highlights and contours. Next, he worked on Akaashi’s suit: dark green jacket and crisp white shirt. Clothing was harder to work on without a model but Bokuto tried to imagine where the creases and folds would be placed and ran his brush over them.

Now that he had begun, Bokuto didn’t want to stop painting, even after dinner when he had to light five candles and place them around his workstation. Eventually, the change in lighting got to him and Bokuto knew he couldn’t continue working like this. He packed away his paints, brushes, and palette, folded up his easel, and moved them to the extra storeroom connected to his bedroom. Then, he gently lifted the canvas, careful not to touch it, and placed it gently in the closet. Lastly, Bokuto blew out all the candles, taking the last one with him to take one last look at his painting before going to sleep. When he squinted, with the candle in front of him, the portrait looked as if it was on fire.

…

The next few days were like so: Bokuto would accompany Akaashi for walks on the beach or around the fields bordering the estate and the village over. Many times, Bokuto would have to rush his time to work on Akaashi’s portrait before sunset fell. In the mornings, he’d wake up early to check on errors he might have made in the dim light. Most of them were errors in shading, a color not mixed right, but there was little to fix. Before he knew it, Bokuto was almost finished with the portrait.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel guilty having to paint this portrait behind Akaashi’s back, knowing all the effort he put into preventing his arranged marriage as best as he could. Even seeing the excited look on Akaashi’s face, which lifted Bokuto’s spirits momentarily, had the bitter aftertaste of knowing that this excitement would all be ruined once Bokuto had to tell him about his circumstances for being at the manor. So, he spent a bit more time with Akaashi, hoping that he didn’t have to finish the portrait so early. That was until Akaashi.

“He’ll likely be in bed all day,” Mikoto said, telling Bokuto the news over breakfast when he asked why Akaashi wasn’t there. “That should give you enough time to finish the portrait by tomorrow, right?” she looked up at him over her breakfast. Bokuto swallowed.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded. For once, he wasn’t excited to get back to finishing a painting.

“Good. Keiji’s father has called for me to meet him in Kyushu. I set out to leave tomorrow after breakfast. If you like, I could be the one to tell Keiji about your… background,” she said, spreading butter on a slice of bread. He could tell that she was relieved, probably, knowing that she’d be rid of her sickly son. ‘No, that’s not it,’ Bokuto mentally shook his head, reminding himself that Akaashi Mikoto was simply doing her job as a mother and as someone concerned about the wealth of her family. She wasn’t a bad woman, Bokuto just somehow bitterly considered her as one.

“It’s alright, Mikoto-san,” Bokuto shook his head. “I’ll tell him myself.”

Mikoto smiled at him. Immediately, she looked years younger, just like the woman in the portrait that hung in the library. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. I trust that it hasn’t been easy, having to paint a portrait of my son without having him pose. I have no doubt that the portrait will be lovely, but I’m not looking forward to seeing the look on Keiji’s face after realizing what I’ve done.”

“Neither am I,” Bokuto smiled ruefully. “Forgive me for this but, I believe I’ve come to see him as a friend these past few weeks.”

“I know he sees you as one too,” Mikoto nodded, looking out the window. “I forbade him from going to the beach for years, fearing that something would happen to him. I couldn’t accompany him and Kageyama’s the only household staff who manages the property. These days, you can tell how excited he is in the morning. He doesn’t say it but you can see it in his eyes.”

Bokuto smiled wistfully. In his portrait, he tried to capture the small smile that would come up on Akaashi’s face whenever he was excitedly wading in the beach or showing Bokuto something new. But as successful as he was in picturing it, it didn’t translate in the portrait. The Akaashi Keiji there had a stern expression on his face, his eyes staring blankly. It was still a good portrait, but Bokuto knew that something was lacking.

After breakfast, he spent more than an hour adding the finishing touches on the portrait and looking at it from afar. He was finished with the portrait, but he didn’t want to tell Mikoto or her son yet. Instead, Bokuto ventured off into the kitchens where Kageyama was busy preparing lunch. With going to the beach with Akaashi and being locked in his room working on the portrait, Bokuto saw very little of Kageyama. Knowing that he’ll be leaving soon after giving the portrait to Mikoto, Bokuto felt that he should have at least one conversation with the butler.

“Bokuto-san,” Kageyama looked up from the pot he was stirring on the stove. “Is there anything you need?”

“Just water,” Bokuto said. “It’s alright, I can get some myself.” Kageyama nodded and Bokuto filled his cup at the tap near the stove before sitting at the long wooden table inside the kitchen. There was a bowl of potatoes, a chopping board, and a knife on the table. “Do these need peeling?” Bokuto asked, picking one up and, without waiting for an answer, picked up the knife.

“Please don’t trouble yourself with that, Bokuto-san,” Kageyama said hurriedly. “You still have the young master’s portrait to finish.”

“It’s already finished,” Bokuto smiled up at him. “And believe it or not, squinting at a canvas with a brush full of paint gets tiring after a while. I’m a pretty good assistant in the kitchen as well,” he said, peeling the potato. “But I’m a terrible cook.” A small smile flitted across Kageyama’s face. He sat at the table in front of Bokuto and cubed the peeled potatoes.

“How long have you worked here?” Bokuto asked, hoping to initiate conversation.

“A good five years,” Kageyama answered. “The previous butler was a good friend of mine but he decided to work in a much livelier household.” Bokuto quirked his lips slightly.

“And you don’t mind having a less-lively household?”

“It’s quite ideal, actually. I only have two people to wait upon. Both of them don’t require much, except for when the young master falls ill. The pay is good and the room and board is free,” Kageyama answered. “And the beach is just outside for me to visit.”

“It makes me sad knowing that Akaashi hasn’t visited the beach at least once before I came,” Bokuto said.

“Yes,” Kageyama nodded, pausing with his work to look up at Bokuto. “He’s… a lonely man. I’ve kept wondering again and again if maybe I could have tried to befriend him but… that would be imposing of me.”

“Akaashi probably wouldn’t mind,” Bokuto said. Kageyama blinked at him in surprise before smiling.

“Seeing how lively he is now with you as company, I agree.” Again, Bokuto felt regret in the back of his throat.

“Do you… do you think he’ll hate me after I tell him that I’m painting his portrait?” Bokuto asked. Kageyama pursed his lips.

“I don’t know the answer to that. But I have a feeling he will be disappointed,” he said, scooping up the cubed potatoes and adding them into the pot on the stove. “Lunch will be ready in half an hour. Would you like me to take it to your room?”

“No need,” Bokuto shook his head and then, an idea popped into his head. “I could take Akaashi’s lunch to his room.”

“Bokuto-san, you don’t need to—”

“Trouble myself, I know,” Bokuto nodded. “But I’m finished with the portrait and there’s nothing else for me to do. Also…” he sighed. “I know it’s pretty useless but maybe I could make amends with Akaashi this way?”

“He would appreciate it,” Kageyama said.

Bokuto carefully carried the tray of Akaashi’s lunch: soup with chicken and potatoes, and a roll of bread, upstairs to his room. It just occurred to him that he had never been to Akaashi’s room before and seldom even went to the second floor. Bokuto paused in front of it before knocking once, twice, thrice.

“Akaashi?” he spoke. “I, uh, brought—”

“Come in.”

Bokuto opened the door. He didn’t know what to expect when it came to Akaashi’s room but once he was inside, the whole space undeniably felt as if it belonged to Akaashi. The number of books in his bedroom was probably a quarter of what was in the manor’s library. Bokuto felt himself smile, knowing he found the source of the gaps in the bookshelves. The curtains on the window were drawn back, letting in a good amount of light. There was a small table pushed near the window and on it was a vase full of wildflowers. Bokuto recognized them as the ones that Akaashi had picked in the fields the other day. The owner of the room himself was sitting up in bed, wearing a maroon robe, with a book on his lap.

“I brought your lunch,” Bokuto said, lifting up the tray.

“Thank you,” Akaashi said, his voice sounded hoarse and weak. Bokuto set down the tray at his nightstand and sat down on the chair near his bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” Akaashi shrugged, there was a gleam in his eyes that betrayed the fact that he was teasing Bokuto.

“Care to elaborate?” he chuckled.

“I think it’s the usual flu,” Akaashi sighed. “Aches, fever, all that good stuff. Nothing new.”

“Well, you better eat to maintain your strength,” Bokuto said, gesturing to the tray. Akaashi smiled wryly and lifted it to his lap. While he ate, Bokuto looked over at the books on his nightstand. Most of them were books on philosophy and political science. Except for one with a deep, burgundy jacket and a well-worn spine. “Greek Myths and Legends,” Bokuto read aloud.

“It’s my favorite book from my collection,” Akaashi said, sipping some broth from his spoon. “My father had gifted it to me personally before we left our previous estate.”

“I didn’t take you for a fan of legends,” Bokuto said.

“They’re the best things to read,” Akaashi cocked his head. “They’ve been around longer than any scientific theory or philosophy. The very beginnings of how men and women attempted to make sense of a world they didn’t understand yet.”

“When you put it that way…” Bokuto reached out a hand. “May I?” Akaashi nodded his permission and Bokuto carefully extracted the book from the pile and thumbed through the pages. He could tell that the book was worth quite a lot. From the thick, cream-colored pages, the title that was written in perfect calligraphy, to the colored, watercolor illustrations. The fact that this book wasn’t behind a display case, well-worn from reading and placed on a nightstand said a lot about Akaashi. Bokuto flipped to a random page. “The Myth of Prometheus,” he read aloud. In front of him, Akaashi smiled and leaned back in his bed.

“’There lived a titan named Prometheus, the supreme trickster and the god of fire,’” he recited out loud. ‘Of course he remembers it word by word,’ Bokuto thought, smiling to himself as he continued where Akaashi left off.

“’He was tasked by Zeus to form man from earth and water, and he did so. But Prometheus, the titan, grew fond of his creation…’” And so, Bokuto continued reading, not stopping until he reached the end of the myth when Prometheus was sentenced to his punishment of being chained to a rock while an eagle feasted on smalleaccompanying illustration of Prometheus’s punishment.

“Zeus always was the most bloodthirsty of the three major gods,” Akaashi chuckled dryly. “It’s a good story. While it is meant to be a cautionary tale about what happens when you defy the orders of a god, it does bring to light the need for situations wherein such transgressions are necessary.” He paused and turned to look at Bokuto. “What do you think about it, Bokuto-san?”

“Well, I always thought it was about…love?” he said uncertainly. In all honesty, the only time he ever encountered the myth was when his master retold it to him. Greek myths were always the subject of many painting commissions so Bokuto was trained to be familiar with them. The hard part when it came to painting them was adding that slight variation, the artist’s interpretation of the myth.

“Love?” Akaashi echoed. “You seem to be quite the romantic, Bokuto-san.”

“I-I mean,” Bokuto stammered, thinking of a good reason. “Prometheus was in that whole predicament because he loved his own creation too much, right? And it’s almost impossible to love something you created.” It was true, he knew that much, especially among painters. Sometimes that love gets to the point that it was impossible for him to find imperfections in his work, or even fathom being separated from the painting. In the end, most of the paintings Bokuto loved would end up in the hands of the people who paid for it. “It would be cruel of him to deny his own creations that fire, and Prometheus knew the consequences for it. I bet even after being chained to that rock, he would still make that same decision again if he could.” When he finished, he found Akaashi looking at him with an amused expression on his face.

“You’re quire right,” he said. “It’s an interesting take on the myth. I never would have thought of it but then again, I’m not a creator.” The look on Akaashi’s face seemed to lay bare Bokuto’s secrets.

“D-do you have any other favorite myths?” Bokuto asked, hoping to change the subject. “I could read a couple more for you if you like.” Akaashi placed his tray back on the nightstand and folded his hands over his lap.

“That would be nice Bokuto-san. Could you turn to page three-hundred and twenty?”

“’The Twelve Labors of Heracles,”’ Bokuto read aloud.

“It’s a long one. Are you up for it?” a corner of Akaashi’s mouth was turned up in a smile.

“Of course I am,” Bokuto returned the smile. He’s never been much of a reader, especially after being taught by the older painters at his master’s studio and even then, he had been slow when it came reading and writing. At first, Bokuto winced as he stumbled over some of the words but Akaashi kindly helped him through it and didn’t seem to mind. He was quite good at making up voices for characters like Pan, the satyr or Medusa that cracked a smile on Akaashi’s face. Before he knew it, it was already dinnertime when Kageyama brought up their food. Mikoto came in once to take Akaashi’s temperature and before leaving the room, she made eye contact with Bokuto who hgave the most imperceptible of nods. ‘Yes, the painting is done,’ it meant, and Bokuto was back to contemplating how to break the news to Akaashi.

“Something the matter, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked. They were both still eating dinner at the table near his bedroom window. Akaashi looked visibly better than he looked earlier.

“I…” Bokuto swallowed and felt his hand curl into a fist on his lap. “Akaashi… I-I haven’t exactly been truthful to you.” Silence fell, Akaashi stopped what he was doing and looked at Bokuto, waiting patiently for him to finish. It only made Bokuto even more nervous. “You see, I’m actually—”

“Another painter that my mother hired,” Akaashi interrupted him. Bokuto’s eyes went wide.

“You… you knew?”

Akaashi pursed his lips and reached for Bokuto’s hand, the one that was still on the table. His hand was smaller and more delicate against Bokuto’s hands, his touch feather-light. “As much as you scrub your hands, you can’t quite erase all of the charcoal and paint stains completely, nor the smell of turpentine.”

“Ahaha, I should have been more careful then,” Bokuto laughed nervously and stopped when he saw the expression on Akaashi’s face: it was the picture of melancholy, and Bokuto felt his heart ache. Did he still choose the befriend him even after knowing his intentions? “I… I’m sorry,” he apologized softly.

“Why are you apologizing?” Akaashi looked up to meet his eyes.

“You didn’t need to be so civil around me since you knew what my intentions were,” Bokuto said. “Your mother told me that you constantly evaded the other painters’ and refused to pose for them to delay your wedding.”

“That is true,” Akaashi nodded, taking his hand back. Bokuto’s hand quickly felt the loss of warmth. “But shouldn’t I say the same for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t have to befriend me either. All you had to do was to paint my portrait in secret. You could have quickly denied my requests to go to the beach or ask my mother to keep me occupied for as long as you wanted.” The candlestick on their table was their only light source in the room and it illuminated Akaashi’s features so clearly and Bokuto felt every word he said. “Or is it, you just did those so I would trust you and for your cover not to be blown.”

“I…” Bokuto could hardly find the words. It was just like the first time they met, when they talked over breakfast before going to the beach. Except, Bokuto knew there was something at stake, only he didn’t know precisely what that was. Akaashi Keiji was just another one of his clients. Bokuto’s job would be finished tomorrow and he would go back to his studio with his money and he would wait for his next commission and in a few years, he wouldn’t even remember Akaashi Keiji among the other paintings he would make.

And so, he decided on his reply.

“Yes. You’re right.” He steeled himself for the look of hurt on Akaashi’s face, maybe a few things he would shout. ‘Those are momentary. I would forget about them later on,’ he thought. Instead, Akaashi leaned back in his seat and turned his head to the window.

“I see,” was all he said. And for some reason, that was worse.

“Akaashi—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Akaashi cut him off, he was still looking out the window. “You may retire to your rooms now, Bokuto-san. You’ll have to travel home tomorrow.”

Bokuto swallowed hard and stood up, murmuring a ‘good night’ before leaving Akaashi’s room, running down the stairs, and entering his own room. He was out of breath and livid. ‘Why am I letting that get to me?’ he thought. With every breath he inhaled, an image of Akaashi came to mind. The intense look on his face when he was trying to figure out of Bokuto was lying. The pure excitement at seeing the beach. The hesitance giving way to confidence as he waded into the water. The pucker of his lips when he tasted the sea. The pure concentration as he hunted for hermit crabs. The movement of his lips when he said Bokuto’s name.

Without even realizing it, Bokuto found himself standing in front of Akaashi’s portrait. ‘Painters have an instinct,’ he remembered his master telling him when Bokuto made his first oil painting of a landscape. ‘A lot of us can tell when something is wrong with what we’ve painted. Not when it comes to the technical skills like light or shading. But it pertains to whether we’ve successfully captured a scene that’s alive, and all scenes are, on canvas.’ With his instinct, Bokuto could instantly tell that the portrait he painted of a man with a stiff expression on his face and no light behind his eyes, was not Akaashi.

Bokuto picked up his turpentine-soaked rag that he used to clean his brushed and held it over the face in the portrait. With one swift motion, he swiped it off.

…

He barely slept that night, knowing for sure that he was going to lose his job the next morning. He was going to be one of those painters who had left the estate empty-handed and frustrated, after getting so close. Yet try as he might, Bokuto knew that he didn’t regret destroying the portrait. So maybe, he could return with his head held high.

After stealing a few hours of sleep, Bokuto woke up to wash himself as best as he could and change into a clean shirt. He did all of this without looking at the portrait. Kageyama called him for breakfast and Bokuto steeled himself to face Mikoto and Akaashi. She attempted to make conversation over breakfast and yet he’d nod once in a while and pick at his breakfast, choosing not to acknowledge Bokuto who felt a deep ache in his chest.

Finally, it was time to unveil the portrait. Bokuto knew that he could simply tell Mikoto that he chose to change it in the last minute but on the other hand, he wanted Akaashi to see what he had done. So, he covered the portrait with a cloth and met them in the library to unveil the finished product.

“Bokuto Koutarou!” Mikoto exclaimed indignantly. She was clearly frustrated and Bokuto couldn’t blame her. She has gone through this same scenario a few times over. “You said you finished the portrait.”

“I did,” Bokuto nodded stiffly. “But… it wasn’t satisfactory enough.”

“You could have left that up for me to decide,” Mikoto huffed. Bokuto glanced over at Akaashi to find that the corner of his mouth had turned up in a smile. ‘Maybe this was his plan all along,’ Bokuto wondered. But it didn’t matter now. “Clearly, you are just like all the other painters who have come here. I suggest you leave as soon as possible.”

Bokuto nodded again, taking the cloth to cover up the portrait when Akaashi spoke up, saying something that neither Bokuto nor Mikoto could have expected.

“I’ll pose for him.”

Bokuto stopped and turned to face him. Akaashi was looking directly at him with a look of mild amusement on his face.

“You will?” Mikoto asked.

“I will,” Akaashi nodded. “I think… it’s time I put off this marriage long enough,” he explained. And yet, Bokuto didn’t quite believe he was telling the truth.

“Oh, Keiji,” Mikoto’s voice softened as she held her son’s face in her hands and enveloped him into a hug. “Thank you. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”

“I know, Mother,” Akaashi said stiffly.

“As much as I would like to ask ‘why now?’, I really must get going,” Mikoto straightened up and looked at Bokuto this time. “I will be gone for two weeks. I expect a fully-finished portrait by the time I return.”

“I shall not disappoint,” Bokuto bowed.

“Good,” Mikoto nodded.

“Let me walk you to the ship, Mother,” Akaashi said, offering her his arm. Before leaving the room, Akaashi glanced once at Bokuto and with an imperceptible incline of his head, gestured for him to follow. An hour later, Mikoto and her luggage, which Bokuto helped Kageyama with, were loaded in the ship waiting for her at the docks. After the ship set sail, Kageyama was the first to head back to the house. Bokuto stayed with Akaashi as they watched the ship sail into the distance. He had a million questions for him but for now, all he could feel was relief. As Bokuto watched the way the wind swept through Akaashi’s hair, he knew that he wouldn’t mind looking at him for the next two weeks.

…

They started working on the portrait the next day. Kageyama offered to push the long table from the dining room to the side since it was the most well-lit room in the estate. In the middle, they added a chair and a low table for Akaashi to pose on. Bokuto set up his easel and spare canvas at the side, grateful at being able to paint in good lighting after having to work secretly in his own room. He began painting the background of the portrait with broad strokes of a maroon color to keep busy when Akaashi walked inside.

To say that he looked stunning was an understatement. Before Bokuto began his first portrait, Mikoto had shown him the suit that Akaashi was supposed to wear: a dark emerald green with golden buttons and a crisp white shirt meant to be worn with the color turned up. Seeing Akaashi actually wearing it was a different story. The suit hugged him perfectly, accentuating the slight curves in his waist with the high collar just reaching the bottom of his chin. Akaashi had combed his hair back just slightly which showed off his forehead.

“You look…” Bokuto began to say before stopping himself quickly. “Ready.”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi nodded curtly, unaware of how good he looked. “If you would…” he gestured to the chair in the center of the dining room and Bokuto hurried to pose him.

“Sit slightly forward in the chair,” he instructed. “Back straight. You can rest your elbow on the table if you want but the other hand, please keep on your lap.” Akaashi followed the instructions. “Lastly,” Bokuto reached a hand out to touch Akaashi’s shoulder to tilt him slightly towards the canvas. He was aware of how close Akaashi’s face was and that he was probably staring at Bokuto. ‘In all my years of painting, have I ever worked someone as beautiful as this?’ he wondered, before shaking the thought of his head and backing away to survey the pose. “Good, perfect,” Bokuto nodded before returning to his canvas.

“What expression should I have on my face?” Akaashi asked.

“A neutral expression would be ideal,” Bokuto answered, quickly painting an outline on the canvas. “If you get uncomfortable in your position please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Alright, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said. “Am I… allowed to speak?”

Bokuto glanced up at him and back to the painting. “Of course,” he swallowed before continuing. “I have you to thank for my job.”

“I didn’t do it for your job,” he heard Akaashi speak. Bokuto bit his lip. This wasn’t an ideal position for them to have this conversation.

“Then… why?” Bokuto asked.

“I should ask why you decided to destroy the portrait of me.”

“That… That’s because the person I painted wasn’t you,” Bokuto answered. “I didn’t want it to be the work I submitted.”

“I see…” Akaashi said. He had the same amused expression on his face as he had when he saw the portrait unveiled to him. “It’s just the opposite of what Prometheus did.” Bokuto paused his work to listen. “In your disgust at your creation, you opted to destroy it. Such is the mind of a creator.” There was a wry smile playing on Akaashi’s lips.

“It wasn’t disgust,” Bokuto contradicted him. “It was… a lack of attachment more like.”

“How come?” Akaashi cocked his head ever so slightly, his pose still undisturbed.

“Because my subject wasn’t aware of being painted,” Bokuto smiled, finally deciding to meet Akaashi’s gaze. Surprise flickered there, and then mirth.

“That better be a good portrait then.”

“It will be.”

They were able to finish a good amount of the portrait in that afternoon before Akaashi grew tired of posing. Bokuto was about to offer to go to the beach again but stopped when Akaashi headed straight for his room. ‘Maybe he doesn’t forgive me quite yet,’ Bokuto thought with a sigh, only for those thoughts to end when Akaashi asked him to have dinner in his room, especially since the dining table was out of use. It was a relief to see Akaashi engaged with him in conversation. The book of “Greek Legends and Myths” were still on the nightstand where Bokuto had left it. And somehow, with Mikoto out for two weeks, Bokuto felt as if he wanted to stay in that manor forever.

Before going straight to his room, he decided to pass by the dining room to look at the portrait again. He had worked fast, completing a few days’ work in just one day. The sensation of not wanting to leave was even stronger and Bokuto felt a hard lump in his throat. He walked briskly past the dining room when a small voice whispered in the back of his head: ‘Turn around.’

Bokuto spun around and caught sight of Akaashi standing in the far end of the room. Only, he was pale and almost transparent, and wearing an elaborate suit. Bokuto blinked once and then the vision was gone.

#across the sea #bokuaka #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #portrait of a lady on fire!au #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! oneshot #across the sea: act I #bokuaka fanfic

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nevermore-ocs · 3 years

Text

13 x Plus-Size!Reader-- A Real Woman

Author’s note: EYYYYYY FIRST WRITTEN ONE SHOT FOR 13, and it’s SAUCY AS HELL AT 3.6K WORDS, hope y’all enjoy!!

"Are you kidding me?"

The amount of irritation that filled your body and threatened to explode out of you could put a volcano on the verge of erupting to shame. You picked up the sliver of cardboard that had the black-lettered numbers imprinted on it. It was the right size. It was clear as day. However, when you glanced back at yourself in your long, standing mirror, the (favorite color) fabric very obviously hugged your body and curves in a less than comfortable way, good thing you kept the receipt...somewhere in the bevy of bags you had scattered at the foot of your bed. It was quite frustrating, honestly, the dress was the clothing you were so excited to come home and wear, only to be shot down at the height of your excitement. It was also pretty disheartening, the sight of the dress strained in the more fuller areas, even more so when it was a bit of a struggle to peel the clothing off of your form, just fold it away and take it back, all you could do now. "Darling?" The knocks rang through your head like a loud siren, 13, Remy, you forgot you had told her that showing off your new dress was a surprise for her. She must have gotten impatient and walked to your room from the living room where you left her at, teeming with overwhelming eagerness to see whatever you had in store for her. "Darling, it's been quite some time now, can I come in?" You heard the metal doorknob jiggling with her turning it. "U-Uhhh, one second, Remy!" You called out, silently praying to yourself that she would listen, but knowing your SCP girlfriend, listening when she was this ecstatic was out of the question and wasn't coming back either. "I have to wait longer? But, darling, I want to see you now, I've been waiting far too long!" You could hear the growing need in her voice, and that alone tugged at your heartstrings. Balling up the dress with the tag and the receipt, you snagged one of the bags from the end of your bed and you tossed the items, hurriedly, into it and set the bag to the side, hidden, right in time for Remy to throw the door open. "Hmmmmm? Darling, I thought you were going to show me the new clothes you got, I've seen this underwear pair on you before!" It only now hit you like a ton of bricks that you were stood in front of her, almost fully naked, in nothing but a bra and panties. "But, I adore seeing that perfect body of yours, so this is wonderful as always!" She went up to you, her arms hooked underneath your thighs and she easily hoisted you up into her arms and she kept you pressed against her formally dressed chest. Her lips peppered all over the skin on your face, your lips, the bridge of your nose, and the tip of it too. You, at the very most, attempted to return as many kisses as you could, but Remy, knowing you like the back of her hand, which may have seemed extremely creepy to some, read you like a book. "Darling?" She set you down on the bed, carefully, "What's the matter? Usually, you keep up with all of the kisses I give you! What's going on?" You almost didn't want to answer, mostly out of the fear of Remy going out to the store where you bought the clothes and her just, going on another rampage. Without saying anything, other than letting out an audible sigh, you leaned to the side and grabbed the bag from before by the woven handles and you lifted it, handing it to her.

The bag was empty now, she was looking over the dress and holding it out in front of her to get a good look at it, "It even looks like it'll barely fit me!" She let out an actual growl, it turned into a snarl when she took another look at the tag in her other hand, and in a huff, she stuffed the bag back full. She would have thrown it to the side out of pure angry if it weren't for your hand going onto her arm to stop her. "Remy, it isn't a big deal-! I'll go and return it," she gently-she was always so tender with you as if you were going to break-paused your words by taking a hold of your hands and she knelt onto one knee in front of you as you sat on the mattress. "But still, darling, you sounded so excited when you came back home with this! I can tell when you're troubled, this is an insult from them if anything!" She shook her anger off, for now, and refocused all onto you again, "Tell me, darling, what's wrong? Is it the fact that you paid for it and now you have to take it back?" You let a small smile, albeit with some sadness to it, slip onto your lips listening to her words, your fingers threading through the fluffy, onyx-colored hair she had on her half-shaved head, her eyes fluttered close, her head craning into your open palm and her own wide, sharp-toothed grin spread across her face like a fire spreading through a forest. "Remy, it's, it's not because I paid for it, it's because...." you were dreading to tell her this, out of everything, she despised it when you spoke like this about yourself. "Darling?" She squeezed your hands, "It's because it didn't fit in the first place. That's why I'm upset," the moment that the words dusted from your lips, your lowered your head and silently prepared yourself for a verbal lashing. She stood back up to her feet quite abruptly when she heard that. Her brow furrowed, but a sigh left her lips and she sat down next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping down slightly when she did. "Darling...we had this conversation already, you know your body isn't an issue." She repeated it so much, the words were starting to stay stuck in your head like a mantra you could repeat to yourself and you tried to, honestly, just some days, it was harder than others. "I know that Remy, you tell me every day and I-I appreciate you telling me it's just-" your words got cut off in your throat when one of Remy's fingerless-gloved hands took a hold of your chin, specifically her thumb and index finger. With a gentle tug, she urged your head to turn and face up towards hers and the moment you two locked eyes, you could feel her unnaturally colored eyes boring into your soul in an unwavering, unbreakable gaze. "And I tell you the truth every time I say it." You felt her turning on the bed, you were so fixated on her eyes that you didn't even realize that now, she was facing you. "Darling, your body is...gorgeous. It's perfect," you opened your mouth, to be defiant on your words but she was quicker than you, and she put a finger over your lips, hushing you softly. "It's real, it's beautiful, you aren't some whore who had vulgar things done to it, it's you, it's perfect," her hands went from your head to your shoulders, and cascaded downward in a warm, massaging way. "The way your body fills out my palms when I squeeze you, when I hold you," her words paused momentarily, you felt her hands glide over your hips and when she did, she took a handful of you and squeezed, drawing a gasp out of you and your hands instinctively shot up to her broad shoulders and you held onto her, your fingers digging into the cloth of her navy blue vest. "It's heavenly," the words escaped her lips in a soft, shuddering her breath, feeling your body alone did that much to her, you could feel the excitement resonating from her body by her heavier than normal breathing.

Her hands moved back, they pressed against your lower back and while she motioned you to lay down, she continued to speak, her voice was so low, so addicting, her words flowed into your eardrums and stuck themselves into them like super glue. You, out of all people, knew just how talented she was with words, "Now, lay back, relax," when your body rested against the mattress and your head cradled by the surplus amount of pillows piled up at the head of the bed, she moved up onto her knees above you, her hands moved up and took hold of her bowtie and she untied it, her eyes never breaking from your body. "Let me show you how beautiful you are..." when her bowtie came undone, her vest was unbuttoned quicker than you expect. She leaned down, her hands planted at the sides of your head to keep her elevated above you. "Darling~" The word rolled off of her tongue so smoothly, that time she said it, it sent jolts running rampant through your body before shooting down straight into your core, it made your thighs press together and it occurred to you that she noticed since after that happened, one of those signature wide grins settled onto its usual place on her lips. She began to move her hands up to your bra and your bosom, when they arrived, she hooked her finger around the clip at the front of your bra, however, she paused her movements when she did and waited before she even attempted to undo it. "May I?~" You couldn't the smile that broke out across your face. She always asked. With a nod of your head, you pressed a chaste kiss against her lips before relaxing again, "You may~" the moment the words left your lips, she pulled upwards on the clip and your bra unfastened. Your breasts spilled out of the cups when she pulled the clothing away and set it to the side for whenever you needed it back. Her hands instantly went back up, she cupped both of your breasts and squeezed, drawing a breathy gasp to come from your mouth, "How your body reacts," she started again, her voice was beginning to get drenched in that recognizable, insatiable desire, all for you. "It's otherworldly~ Every breath you take, seeing your breasts rise and lower," she ran her thumb over one of your nipples, teasing the hardening nub with her fifth digit before adding her index finger and she pinched it tenderly, giving it a soft tug too. "It makes my blood boil in the best of ways~ It stirs this, this, want for you," her words drifted off when she leaned closer to your right breast. Her inhumanely long tongue slinked out of her mouth and she dragged a long, wet, lick up your nipple at first, then she closed the distance, her lips wrapped around your breast, and she sucked on it tenderly. You could feel those sharp, dangerous teeth of her grazing against your skin in almost a teasing way as if she was preparing to bite down, but, wasn't going to.

"Remy~ Haaahh~" Your hand, shakily, reached up and your fingers snaked into her fluffy, soft, black hair. You gripped it and gave a soft tug, and in turn, it pulled a low, rumbling growl from the pit of her stomach. You felt the sweet, pleasurable vibrations go through your breast, alongside the suckling from her, and how her tongue flicked across your nipple over and over again. Pulling back, she breathed out quite heavily, panting shortly after, and whilst she did that, her fingers hooked around the edges of your panties, and she tugged downwards. "No, no it's not a want-it's a need~ It's as if I don't get you, if I don't claim you, I can't go on~ You and your perfect body awaken this, almost primal desire for you," she reached downwards to unbuckle her belt, however, this time, you beat her to the punch. Letting hand press against the tent in her slacks, you wrapped your fingers around her restrained, hard cock, and you pumped it a few times. She gritted her teeth, sucking in a soft breath through the gaps, her hips bucked somewhat into your hand at the pleasurable friction, "Can't you see what you do to me, darling?~" She breathed out, "Remy?" You questioned after slipping the black, leather belt out of the belt loops of her slacks, "Don't you feel just how erect you got me?~ I'm throbbing, it's almost uncomfortable in my slacks, haha!~" She took over, taking a hold of the zipper, she pulled it downwards and pushed her loose slacks down with her boxer briefs. She breathed out a low groan of relief when her imprisoned length sprung out from her cloth restraints and stood hard at attention. "You did this, darling~ Your body did this to me, those, mhm, delectable moans and noises you let out~ How your eyes roll back when you get lost in your pleasure," to prove her point, one of her gloved hands made its way to your wet slit, she slid her finger downwards from your clit to your entrance, letting your wetness collect on her digit, then she slid it deep inside of you. It made you moan out quite loudly, and your actions repeated exactly what she had said. Your eyes rolled back, you threw your head back into the pillows and moaned out openly. "Just like that~" Her finger steadily pushed in and out of your slit, her other hand, free as it can be, went to your thighs and kept your legs spread open for her. She caressed it thoroughly, going across the inner part, then moved upwards and across the top of it, then to the outer side, and she gripped tenderly, her fingers digging into your body somewhat, not enough to do any kind of damage though of course.

Pushing her finger into you deeply, she kept it buried inside of the warm, wet crevice, she curled it inward towards her palm over and over again, and her thumb planted gingerly on your clit, and she rubbed it in tantalizingly slow circles, "How soaked you get at my touches, you're a sight people dream about~ That they wished they had~" She continued, watching and taking in the sight of just how you writhed with pleasure on the bed, your fingers gripped and held onto the bed-sheets tightly, if you had the strength she did you were sure to tear through them. "Remy~ Hah~ Anh~ Please, that's so good, I-I had no idea you thought all of that about me~" You managed to get out, taking in that grin she had. "Then I'll always make sure that you do~ And even if you forget, I'll gladly repeat it, I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, as many times as you want, darling, you are so perfect~" She slowly retracted her fingers from your dripping wet slit, causing you to whimper in a needy way, desperate to feel something of hers to fill you up again. As if right on cue, she began to answer your desires all over again. She slid herself into place, snuggly in between your thighs, and when she did, she placed her hands under your legs, and she moved them until they rested comfortably at her waist. "And darling, seeing you like this, your body burning, the scent of my love's essence pooling out of her and filling my senses, I cannot wait for another moment," her hips adjusted and you could feel the head of her cock brush against your folds, it nudged past them, but she didn't enter you, yet. "I have to take you~" When she leaned over you, you took the chance, your arms hooked around her neck, and you pulled her down to your level. Your lips crashed against hers in a much-needed, deep, passionate lip-lock, your tongue, feeling bold, ran across her bottom lip and she instantly received the message. Her mouth pried open, welcoming your tongue, and it made the kiss deeper, hotter. Your tongue swirled around with her inhumanely long one, it made your legs tighten around her waist, and you felt her hips begin to rock. It made her cock grind against your cock, it gradually gathered your wetness on the length of it, making it slick. "Then take me, Remy~ I need you too, I, God, I need you so badly~"

Hearing you beg was the best music in the entire world to her, better than her favorite song in the same. "Gladly, darling~" She reached down, wrapping her hand around the base of her cock, she lined herself up to your entrance, you felt yourself breathing heavier, preparing yourself for what's about to come. Her hips pushed forward, her slick, hard length slid deep inside of you, her hips pressed up against yours when she easily hilted herself, letting herself be engulfed by the welcoming feeling of your wet, velvety-soft walls hugging around the shape of her cock, "Ooohhhh, darling~ You always feel, mmmm, wonderful~ How you hug around me, no one is as perfect as you, my dear~" She leaned down, and pecked your cheek, "Hold onto me, I don't think I can contain myself anymore, now that I'm," she pulled her hips back, almost sliding herself out all of the way, only to snap her hips forward again and pump her cock deep inside of you. "Inside of you~" Doing what she said, you kept your arms locked around her neck, your fingers clawing at the back of her shirt as she started to thrust in and out of you at a steady, growing pace, her hips slapping up against yours. Her name escaped from your lips in loud moans numerous times, like a mantra, as if it were the only thing you knew, she wasn't as loud, but her low groans, matched with a few quiet, breathy little laughs sent shivers up and down your spine since her mouth was right next to your ear. Your legs wrapped properly around her waist, your heels digging into the spot above her rear, her arms moved down and wrapped themselves firmly around your waist and she clung onto you. Thanks to your legs, it made her thrusts grow faster, her forehead rested against yours, you could see just how red-faced she was, she panting, breathing heavily. "Darling~" She gasped out, it took you a couple of attempts to pry your shut-tight eyes, but when you did, you were greeted with the sight of her red sclera, light grey irised eyes focused onto (eye color) ones, the sight made you feel safe, it made you feel loved, she never scared you or anything like that, it made your heartbeat louder with uncontrollable love all for SCP-013. "I love you, darling, I love you so much~" She had leaned forward, and you, surprising her, leaned forward too and closed the gap in between the both of you for another warm, passionate lip lock, "I love you too, Remy, I, mmhf!~ Hahhn!~ I love you~"

Her thrusts grew faster, more rapid, inconsistent, she was getting close. Her noises got louder than before, her panting started to turn heavier and almost sounded more primal-like due to her mouth being open as it was, "D-Darling I'm, ohhh, I'm so close~ You feel, so, hnh, unf, amazing~" Nodding, as your orgasm was at the precipice, ready to come crashing down and hit you with all the force it had, you pulled her down closer to you, her head next to yours and instantly, she turned it and nestled it into the crook of your neck, placing several kisses all over the side of your neck, along with little bites here and there. She attempted to contain herself, however, after the whole incident with the last bite she did to one of your thighs and almost gave you a heart attack when she lifted her head and she had blood on her lips. "M-Me too!~ Cum, hahh, cum inside of me, Remy, please!~" You could feel her grin against your skin, "I wouldn't want to anywhere else, hnh, anyway, darling~" You laughed breathlessly alongside her, turning your head, you pressed your lips against her cheek and onto one of the swirling, deep tissued scars that spiraled across the exposed side of her face. She pumped and pounded her hips down into yours a few more times and it was that last one that made her hilt herself all of the way inside of you, keeping her hips locked down onto yours. She groaned out loudly, her hips flexed forward with each pump of her cum flowing inside of you, flooding you, she hadn't even begun to pull out when droplets and dribbles of her cum seeped through the gaps of her cock buried deep inside of your slit. She was never too keen on pulling out of you, not that you had a problem with it. "Hopefully," she started, huffing out a much-needed breath, and she hiked herself back up above you, her hands planted on the mattress much like before. When she adjusted herself like that, that damned, large, wide, sharp-toothed grin slid onto her face and made itself at home on her lips.

"That got through to you, darling~ Or....do you need more convincing?~ Trust me, as you know, I can be, hehehe, quite persuasive~"

#oc #my oc #scp #scp 13 #scp: containment breach #scp 013 #SCP-013 #13 #oneshot #fic #writing #my writing #ns//ft #ns//fw #ALSO YES #13'S REAL NAME IS REMY #ITS USED A LOT IN THIS XDDDDD

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cilldaracailin · 3 years

Text

We Are The Champions

Hello my Tumblr Lovelys,

Happy Wednesday! It is new story add day but also it was my getting my hair done day too! And oh my goodness! It has been nearly a year and I am blonde again and proper blonde, so much so my own mother didn’t recognise me outside Tesco this afternoon. Brilliant! Not too mention the three inches that were taken off it too. So that was a good morning for me.

And it is a good evening for you all, as there is more Robyn and Taron on the way.

Thanks so much for all the love and reads and comments. All are very much appreciated.

Suze xx

P.s As always, here is the disclaimer. I don’t know Taron or his family and this is all fiction and a story and please bear that in mind with Robyn’s treat for Mari and also that Robyn comes from a musical theatre and performing background, so it’s not too strange for her to do this. :)

“I feel like I’ve been split open and stuffed with sunshine.”

Taron left the kitchen with a red face and racing heart, picking up the discarded Olaf costume on his way to his car. With the body and head of the snowman in his car, he went back to get the two feet and threw them in the back seat. He started the car, did a quick U-turn and was back home in minutes and leaving the Olaf costume in the car, ran inside, stripping himself of the disgustingly wet brown top on the way, dropping it on the floor beside the couch. The white bottoms were soon to follow once he kicked his runners off and he didn’t even bother to put them in the laundry hamper.

The coldest setting of his shower wasn’t cold enough for him and he soaped his body up three times before he was satisfied all the heat had been washed away. Sitting on his bed in a towel, the window pushed wide open to try and let some air in, he held the jar of after sun in his hands. He knew he could do it himself and could definitely reach but dropped the jar onto his duvet and headed for his wardrobe. He searched through his drawers for a pair of shorts, pulling out a dark navy pair and at his shirts, found a white one with some green and blue tropical flowers. It was light and perfect for the weather. He also took a white tank top out. He wasn’t going to put it on but rather have it to use if the shirt was too much. Taking a quick visit to the kitchen he routed out some paracetamol and swallowed them down with a glass of water, drinking another two, filling a forth before his thirst was properly quenched.

Twenty minutes after he arrived home, he was back in the car, the Olaf costume left in his living room, the jar of after sun and tube of cooling gel on the passenger seat. He had also did a little route through Robyn’s belongings and took out a pair of blue shorts and a black tank top for her. Once Mari’s party was over, he knew it wouldn’t be as easy as leaving his mams to spend some time alone with her and figured she wouldn’t want to stay in the Elsa costume for the whole day. He knew she had brought a handbag with her but didn’t see any clothes in it and wanted her to be comfortable for the remainder of the evening with his family.

Parking outside his mam’s outside, he grabbed the stuff from the seat and as he closed the car door, smiled at how once again himself and Robyn had switched places, this weekend seemingly her turn to take care of him and she had done it so lovingly, helping him to make up with his sister. Entering the house, he could hear the music playing from the garden and was definitely relieved at the lack of Disney songs coming to his ears. Strolling through the house, he left the after sun and clothes on the table, going straight outside.

When Taron left, Tina helped Robyn to set up the table under the gazebo with all the face painting items, Robyn bringing out her phone to help with pictures for the girls of what they would like.

“Here Robyn use this instead. It has a bigger screen.” Tina handed over an iPad to her.

“Thank you Tina.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah I am good thanks. Why don’t you and Guy sit for a while. You both have been rushed off your feet.”

“Robyn you really don’t have to do this. The party is my responsibly and I know this is your day-to-day job and it is quite clear you are so very good at it, but still.”

“Thank you Tina but I still want to do this.” Robyn looked to her, Tina’s face in a half frown, half grin. “Ok well why don’t you sit with us then. You can help me.”

As Taron strolled back into the garden, Robyn was drawing flowers on one of the party guests. His mother was beside her washing the face paint brushes and chatting to Robyn. He pulled up a chair beside him mam, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Seems you have everything under control.” He joked.

“Well, when I don’t have a mad snowman running around it is easy to keep things calm.” Tina chuckled. “You feel better?”

“Much.” He looked past his mother to Robyn who was concentrating very hard on making sure the flower she was painting was perfect, shading the sides of the petals in light purple. “That is quite a flower.”

Robyn smiled as she took a clean brush and dabbed it in some white face paint, adding some white strokes to the flower, giving it some more depth. “Thank you. All done.” Robyn held up the mirror Tina had got her to show the last of Mari’s party guests her face paint.

“It’s perfect. Thank you Robyn.”

“You are more than welcome.”

Taron was too busy looking through the pictures Robyn had up on the iPad to notice Mari walk over to him but he definitely felt the two arms slip around him, and he smiled at his sister.

“You’re back.” She said to him, grinning as he pulled her up onto his lap. “And you smell much better.”

Laughing Taron kissed her cheek. “Thank you Mari. How was your dancing?”

“It was good. I was waiting for you to come back before we played your song.” She moved a little closer to her brother. “Do you think Robyn would do one Elsa song for me?”

Taron gave her sister a hug. “No promises, but I will ask her for you. Let’s give it a couple of minutes though ok. She has only finished the face paint.”

“Sure. Thanks Taron.”

Hopping from his lap, Mari ran back into the garden and Taron moved to take the seat his mam had vacated as she went back into the house to help Guy set some more drinks for the party guests.

“How you feeling?” Robyn asked, turning to him, smiling at his clothes. He looked so much happier and fresher in his shirt and shorts and his face carried much less stress.

“Much better and cooler.”

“I am glad.”

“How are you still in that costume”? He asked her.

She smiled at him. “It’s getting a bit warm.”

“I brought you some clothes.”

“You what?”

“I wasn’t too sure if you brought any and we are probably going to be here for some time after the party and didn’t think you would want to be Elsa all day, so I grabbed you some shorts and a top.” He laughed as Robyn hugged him sideways. “I take that as a thank you.”

“A definite thank you. The dress is getting itchy.”

“And I brought the after sun with me too.”

Robyn had been closing the face paint pots and stopped, turning her whole body to look at him. “You couldn’t do it yourself?” She asked raising an eyebrow.

Shrugging Taron sat back in the wooden chair. “I like it when you do it.”

“Of course you do.” Robyn went back to tiding away the face paint when his hand took hers.

“Can I have some?”

“After sun? Sure. Let me clean this up first.”

“Oh no. Not that after sun. I know you are going to do that for me.” He ignored her look and kept speaking. “I mean face paint. Can I have some?”

“Face paint?”

“Sure. Everybody has some except me and you have some make up on.”

“I can’t wear face paint and if you want something sure. I can paint your face. Wanna be an avenger? Or spider man?”

“You can’t wear face paint?” Taron asked. “And no thanks I don’t want to be an avenger.”

“Well here, have a look at what you would like.” Robyn handed him the iPad. “I am allergic to some types. My skin just reacts so I don’t really use it.”

Taron nodded and handed the iPad back to her. “This.”

One the photo was a small bunch of decorative blue flowers.

“Really?”

“Sure. Matches my shirt.”

“You sure?” Taron gave her a firm nod. “Ok, well come and sit here then.” She patted the chair and Taron took a seat and pulled his chair closer to her so her knees were in-between his legs. “Ok so just sit still.”

With a nod Taron watched as she opened the blue and green face paint again and picked up one of the small brushes turning back to him and placed her left hand on his right cheek.

“What is what smile for?” He asked seeing Robyn’s lips twitch.

“It just reminds me of the 7/11.” She lightly stroked his cheek and then lifted the brush to start the outline of the blue flower for him.

“And it makes you smile?”

“Sure.” Robyn dripped the brush into the pot for some more paint. “Positive thoughts, right?”

“Right.” He agreed.

It took her less than five minutes to draw and fill in with some detail, three small petal flowers on his cheek, adding some decorative vines and leaves and even a dash of glitter. “And done.” She picked up the mirror to show him and he grinned.

“Thanks. You are good at this.”

“I have a lot of practice.”

“Taron really?” Guy came out carrying two jugs of juice in his hands, laying them on the table.

“What?” He watched as his step father motioned to his own cheek.

“And? It was face painting time.”

“Don’t you look cute.” Tina came out with two more jugs. “Suits you.”

Taron grinned a little. “Just taking part in the birthday activities. You need help with anything mam?”

“Could you get the girls for me please? I want to keep them hydrated.”

“Of course.”

He got up from his seat and Robyn watched him walk into the sun, seeing a much lighter skip to his step. She quickly cleaned up the face paint and had it all back in the box Tina gave her as Taron came back with the girls on his heels. She stood up, moving back to let the girls in, Guy quickly getting everyone a cold drink. He filled one for Robyn and she took it, taking a long drink from it.

“So, when you are finished that, would you mind helping me out with the after sun?” Taron stood beside her, whispering.

Robyn finished her drink and placed the empty glass back on the table. “Let’s go now when your family is distracted.”

Back in the kitchen, Robyn dropped the face paint on the kitchen counter, smiling at her clothes which Taron had brought for her and she was excited to have some spare clothes to change into once the party was done. The dress was getting uncomfortable and although she loved the warm weather, she was more than ready to change once the party was finished. She picked up the after-sun jar and tube of gel and came to stand beside him as he leaned by the sink.

“Thanks for bringing my clothes. I will definitely use them when the party is done.”

“No worries. You sure you don’t mind doing this for me?” He tapped the lid of the jar in her hands.

“Not at all. Step forward for me.” Doing as she asked, Taron took three steps forward and Robyn hopped up onto the counter so she was sitting with her legs dangling. “Ok and come back to me.” She smiled as he walked backwards, bumping into her knees before she set him straight and between her legs. “Wanna open the buttons of your shirt? We just need to pull it down a little bit to get to your shoulders.”

Doing as Robyn asked, Taron quickly opened the buttons of his shirt and slipped it down over his shoulders, leaving his hang at his elbows.

“Still so sore.” Robyn said to him, no difference in the sun burn since she last saw it, his shoulders still bright red.

“It’s so uncomfortable.” He answered her. “I think the problems with the costume made me forget about the sun burn but it definitely stings. A lot.”

“Least you don’t have to wear a bra.” Robyn said opening the lid of the green jar. Hearing silence from Taron, Robyn continued to speak. “Imagine how sore your skin is now when your shirt tightens over your shoulders when you move. Now imagine that with a tight bra strap constantly sitting on your shoulders. Just horrible.”

Taron chuckled. “I can’t say I have ever experienced that but I am glad I never have too. Just so sore.” He rolled his arms a little. “I don’t know if I can wait another two days for this to ease off.”

“I will make sure to add an extra layer or two of cream and gel, just to give you some extra relief.”

“Thanks Robyn.”

Mixing the cream and gel together, Robyn placed her hands on the outside of his shoulders and very slowly worked her way in, moving her thumbs in little circles, rubbing the cream in carefully, finishing at his neck with another large scoop of cream and gel.

“You ok Taron?” She asked. She felt him flinch when she touched a particularly sensitive spot.

“Yeah, even though I know you told me it would take a few days, inside there was a little bit of hope where my skin still wouldn’t still hurt a day later.”

Robyn eased the light pressure with which she was already using. “It will take three or four days before this will stop aching. We will keep the cream rubbed in. We can do it when we get back to yours later and before you lay down to sleep, we can do it again.”

“Yeah, I think that will help.”

“It will.” Robyn agreed, going over his shoulders once more. “And maybe some more paracetamol too.” She saw him nod his head.

“I did take some before I came back here.”

“That will help a lot.” With another nod Taron let his head dip to his chest. Even though it was hurting him a little, he was more than enjoying the feel of Robyn’s hands on his heated skin and the cooling relief as she so very carefully rubbed in the after sun. “What are you going to say if your mam walks in?”

“God made it so we can’t reach our backs.” He chuckled.

“Sure Taron.”

Robyn had finished delicately massaging the after sun in to his skin before anybody walked into the kitchen and she was washing her hands at the sink when Tina strolled in with two of the empty jugs, Guy behind her with the other two and some cups.

“Mari was looking for you Taron. Something about your song?” Tina was sure she saw Taron closing the buttons on his shirt but didn’t pry as to why.

“Ahh yes. She has a song request.” Taron looked to Robyn. “Wanna come out? It’s a favourite of yours.”

“Sure.”

The two left the kitchen together, Tina picking up the jar of after sun to show Guy with a wink once they were alone, her husband chuckling at her. “I knew I saw him buttoning his shirt.”

“Leave them be Tina.” Guy took the jar from her. “Maybe you could help me out.” He grinned opening the jar. “I got some sun burn yesterday too!”

Joining his sisters outside, while Robyn stood in a circle of little girls, Taron got Mari’s chosen song playing, dancing his way back to the group, Mari running to reach him. With his sister in his arms, Taron twirled her around the garden, Robyn dancing with all the other girls, Rosie right beside her. The specially written song for Taron by Elton was a firm favourite with his siblings and they sang loudly along with his verse and chorus, the group ending in a cheer. Taron hugged Mari close and grinned as she whispered in his ear.

“Let me ask her.” He whispered back, putting her down carefully. As he walked past Rosie, he stopped to place a kiss on her head too and moved into the circle of excited party guests, taking Robyn by her elbow and leading her away from the little crowd.

“Want to help me be the best brother in the world?”

Robyn turned to face him, a hand on her hip, smiling. “What do you need me to do?”

“One Elsa song.” He explained. “Mari’s birthday dreams will be complete.”

“I would love to.”

Taron smiled at her obvious enthusiasm. “It’s been your dream to be a Disney princess, isn’t it?” Even though her cheeks were red from the warmth outside, a little blush still flooded her face. “You sing them loudly in your sitting room, don’t you?”

“So, what song does she want?” Robyn asked him, taking his elbow and giving him a pull. “We should do it quickly. I am starting to melt in here.”

“Elsa doesn’t melt. She is an ice princess.” He giggled when she pinched him lightly. “Ohhh frosty!” Still laughing, he took to a light run, heading for the Alexa Guy had managed to get set up properly. He chuckled more as Robyn chased after him, trying to get her hands to him to tickle him but without the confines of his snowman costume he was light on his feet and dodged around her as she ran after him, both laughing loudly as they circled the garden twice.

Robyn loved it when Taron was giddy and playful and after his morning, it was so wonderful to hear his laughter and see that beautiful smile on his face and she was enjoying their sudden dash around the grass garden until she stood on her dress, tripped and fell over, rolling twice before she lay on her back.

“Shit Robyn!”

“Taron language!”

Tina and Guy had heard the sudden laughter and went to the kitchen window to see what Mari, Rosie and her friends were up to only to see it was Robyn and Taron who were the ones up to no good, chasing each other around the garden, dirty giggles coming from both of them but they took to a run when Robyn fell over, straight out to the garden, Tina chastising her son for cursing.

“Robyn?”

“Robyn!”

The grass was hot under her and she knew she hadn’t hurt anything except maybe her pride but still took to laughing as she lay on her back. She felt someone on either side of her and knew immediately it was Taron on her right as he took her hand.

“Every time.” She said opening her eyes, so glad Taron was leaning over her as his shadow shaded her from the bright sun. “Why do I fall over every time.” She was still laughing as Taron helped her to her feet and she appreciated how he made sure her snowflake cape was nowhere near her feet.

“You ok Robyn?” Tina asked concerned.

“More than fine. It’s my thing. I am clumsy. Slightly embarrassed though but I know Taron is used to it.”

“You hurt yourself?” Taron asked still holding her hand.

“Nah. I am fine.” She looked over her shoulder to the girls who were looking at her. “There goes my Disney princess rep.”

Taron shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Disney princess rep?” Guy asked.

“All shall be revealed now.” Taron gave her hand a tug. “Which song do you want?” He asked leading her back towards the Alexa.

“Which song does Mari want?” Robyn asked him back but as Taron got the chosen song going, she grinned. “Of course.” She took a look to the girls who immediately turned in her direction as they heard the music but she looked to Taron. “You got any crushed ice? Or if not, can you crush some really quickly for me? As much as you can manage.” She saw the confusion in his eyes. “I am doing this once and Elsa needs some snow.”

With a nod, Taron started the song again and ran towards the kitchen while Robyn turned towards the girls, singing along with the track, giving Guy and Tina a smile as she walked past them a little. Acting out the song, it was hard to keep a straight serious face as Mari was right at the front of the party girls, her face in the biggest grin. It was a song she had sung thousands of times before just as Taron had said, in her living room and it was easy to sing and float around the grass, swishing her cape behind her, the Elsa costume really helping with her characterisation. As it got closer to chorus, she prayed Taron had managed to get her some ice. She did a quick twirl catching his eye through the kitchen window and tried to hold her laugh in as he came bolting out to the grass to stand behind her just as the chorus came on, a bowl in each hand, holding them out either side of her and it was the most perfect timing as she placed a hand in each bowl and picked up a handful of wet and cold half crushed ice, her sudden props absolutely perfect for the song, and the gasps from the girls were brilliant as she threw the melting ice in the air, making elaborate hand movements just like Elsa pretending she was making snow. Taron followed her for the whole chorus so she could get some more melting ice, throwing it over her head, still singing along with the track in background and it was so clear his sisters were in complete awe as Robyn was the most perfect Disney princess.

Coming into the second verse, Taron legged it back to the kitchen, Robyn turning around to walk away from the girls, making a show of kicking her dress out and the snowflake cape too, facing the girls once more as she started to sing again, enjoying herself so much. She loved to sing and her Disney playlist on her Spotify was over used and she wasn’t embarrassed to admit that the Elsa songs were some of her favourites to act out when she was alone, even bringing cwtch into her performance.

Taron was watching from the kitchen window, crushing ice as quick as he could before Robyn got to the second chorus, thrilled with the reaction of his sisters, with how unbelievable Robyn was in character as Elsa and his heart was racing again as he watched her stroll towards the girls, walking slowly but effectively, hitting the last note of the second verse perfectly. Realising he was late with the snow effect, he grabbed four bowls and chucked the ice from the sink into them, picking them up and rushing out to the garden. He gave two to Guy to hold and jogged to stand behind Robyn, smiling at how in tune they were with each other, that she reached for the bowls as he came to stand behind her, grinning as the ice fell over him, knowing well she had thrown it up and behind her head on purpose.

On the bridge, Robyn used her hands to hold onto her cape, walking past Taron with a grin, noticing the melting ice on his hair and did one long walk around the garden, throwing her snowflake cape out once she was in front of the girls again just as the words came in, saw a new bowl of ice in Taron’s hands. She took out a handful and threw it over the girls, going for another to throw it the opposite side. With both hands in air at the end of bridge, she twirled and then stood still, her cape swirling perfectly as the last chorus came on.

Taron was prepared with last two bowls and once again stood behind her, knowing well he wasn’t hidden but with the glee on the party guest’s face, knew they didn’t even notice him, all too engrossed in Robyn’s impromptu performance and as much as the girls were taken aback, he was too. He had already seen Robyn on stage but it was amazing how easily she just became the character in an instant, how she sang with the song with such effortlessness and he could see she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

As the song ended Robyn took the two bowls of the watery ice from Taron and flung them high in the air while still holding onto the bowls, handing them back to Taron, the water coming down on everyone as she stood with her back to the girls, her head over her shoulder giving them wink. The song ended to a round of applause and squeals followed by a tackle of hugs, the next song in the frozen playlist starting as Robyn was caught up in the middle of a group of excited girls.

“Best birthday ever!” Mari was the one squeezing Robyn hard around her waist. “Thank you Robyn!”

“You are more than welcome!” Robyn chuckled as each girl chattered to her, all so excited by their live Disney princess.

Tina wandered over to the group. “Well Robyn, I think you might have set the bar for birthday parties extremely high. That was brilliant.”

“Almost like you had done it before.” Taron said with a wink.

“Says the man who happily sings George Michael without being asked twice.” Robyn joked back. “Thanks for the ice by the way.”

“You are welcome.”

“Mari is going to be talking about this for days.”

Robyn turned to Taron’s mam. “I hope I haven’t spoilt any plans you had Tina. It was something Mari has been asking Taron for since I walked in the door.”

“Absolutely not!” Tina insisted. “I just want Mari to have a nice birthday with her family and that is exactly what she has gotten and to be honest, without the face paint or Elsa impersonation, I was really at a loss of where to go next. You have been a wonderful help.”

Robyn smiled. “Thanks Tina.” Still caught in the group of girls, she chuckled as they were all singing along to ‘Into the Unknown’ which was currently playing in the background. “Come on girls!” She managed to grab Mari’s hand. “Your turn.”

Taron stood with his parents, laughing as Robyn skipped around the garden with the girls, all of them singing along, cringing a little as the girls did their very best to hit the terribly high notes of the chorus of the song but of course Robyn had no trouble with them, giving him a wink as she walked past him, acting out the second verse, the girls copying her movements. He wasn’t expecting to be dragged along with the group and found himself being pulled along by Rosie who was following along and joined in with the female company as they all spun in circles around the grass, all trying to sing Elsa as best they could, the younger girls falling onto the grass in exaggerated drama at the end of the song, Taron and Robyn following them, laying on the ground breathing hard beside each other.

“Need to get you a blonde wig.” Robyn joked as she got to her knees, Taron still on the ground laughing.

“Need to get you a job at Disneyland!” He said sitting up. “Perfect.”

“Maybe when we all go to Disneyland. I do believe your sisters are still owed a trip because your mam and I got to go to your premier and they didn’t.”

Taron smiled brightly. “Adults can’t dress up at Disneyland.”

“No but they can Disney bound.”

“What?”

“I will explain it to you when we go.”

“Robyn!” Mari came running over to her, giving her a hug, which nearly knocked her over. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Robyn smiled at Taron who was making faces at her as she hugged Mari. “Jealous.” She mouthed to him at which he frowned.

“Robyn?”

“Yes Mari?”

“One more?” She asked as the music for ‘Show yourself’ came on. “Please?”

Mari moved and sat beside her. Robyn looked at her with a grin and started to sing along as the words came on, all of the girls coming to stand around her, Taron moving to sit with his legs crossed, Rosie on his lap. As the song moved to the second verse Robyn got to her feet knowing well, she couldn’t sing the song properly or do it justice by sitting down. She walked in a circle around the group, smiling at Tina and Guy who were still standing to the side watching, nearly sure Tina was videoing the whole sing-a-long as she held her phone in her hands. Robyn continued to sing with the music giving it all she had, suddenly feeling a strong connection to the song with some of the words to the second verse, placing a hand on gently on Mari, Rosie and Taron’s shoulder’s, moving away from the group to do a small run around the garden letting her cape fly behind her before coming back into the centre of the group, crouching down and gently placed her hand on Mari and Rosie’s cheeks. She then took their hands as the bridge of the song kicked in, getting them to their feet and walking with them to the bottom of the garden the others following behind her, Taron still sitting but turning around to watch as they all stood in a straight line, smiling as the girls sang a different line to Robyn, the Irish woman throwing in some harmony, the effect not perfect but perfect for the ten little girls who looked like all of their dreams had come true, not including Robyn’s. The song ended and all the girls had their hands in the air and once done, almost jumped on Robyn again with excitement.

Robyn was chuckling with the reaction from the girls and took a look to Taron who was still sitting, the smile she had been waiting to see all day on his face.

“BEST BIRTHDAY EVERY!” Mari shouted making everyone in the garden laugh.

“Ok ok let’s give Robyn some breathing space.” Tina came over and gently broke up the crowd around her but her youngest daughter was still hugging Robyn tight around her waist. “Mari, darling.”

“Mam can Robyn come to every birthday?”

Robyn laughed and crouched down to give Mari another hug. “Maybe not as Elsa next time.”

“Belle? Or Ariel?” The young girl asked. “Taron told me Ariel is your favourite princess.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Robyn asked looked over her head to Taron who was on his feet, his hands in his pockets as he strolled over.

“What else does Taron tell you?”

Mari zipped her lips. “Can’t say. Brother sister secrets.”

“Oh, I see.” Robyn chuckled. “Well, they are secret’s that can’t be broken.”

“Yep, although Rosie already broke one by telling you that Taron told her that he loved you.”

Robyn saw the little look of fear that crossed Taron’s beautiful face at Mari’s words and his hands dug deeper into his pockets if it was possible. “Well Taron knows I love him so I think that secret is ok to share.” She looked over Mari’s head to softly smile at Taron. “Now go and play with your friends.”

“You’re not going, are you?”

“Of course not darling.” Robyn kissed her forehead. “Elsa needs a bit of water break.”

“You will come and dance with us?”

“Of course. In a few.”

Robyn stayed crouched accepting Taron’s hand as he helped her up. “Remember I told you the first time you met my family that my sisters wanted a big sister instead of a big brother?” He saw her nod. “Well now they are officially adopting you as their big sister. Robyn that was amazing. Just wow. You were Elsa.”

“You know I have had the practice.” She said her cheeks tinting a little.

“But the singing was fantastic and then getting all the girls involved. I don’t think Mari will ever stop talking about this birthday. Never been one like it.”

“Definitely.” Tina agreed coming to stand with them.

“I mean Olaf melted and everything!” Guy chuckled, earning him an angry stare from Taron. “Thanks for doing that for her. You really didn’t have too.”

Robyn grinned. “Not going to lie. I think I might have enjoyed it more than Mari and Rosie did.”

Tina gave Robyn a hug, giving her a long squeeze. “I can’t even thank you anymore.” She whispered to her.

“There is no need for thanks. I have needed this weekend.” Robyn ended the hug and looked to Tina. “What do you need help with next?” She asked. “I am sure the girls could do with a drink?”

“Nothing. Robyn, you have done your part. More than your part. Why don’t you go and grab a drink. I am going to get the cake ready for Mari and then there is only about an hour left before they all go home.”

Robyn laughed at the relief she could already hear in Tina’s voice at the prospect of a child free house, except for her own.

“You know, I think I will do just that.” Robyn fluffed her costume out from her skin. “I might even change. No idea how those girls are still in their dress up.” She turned to Taron who was still beside her. “You think Mari will be disappointed if Elsa becomes Robyn?”

“Not at all. You go change. I will hold the fort with some dancing, while mam sorts the cake.”

“You cannot play George Michael.” She said pointing to him, smiling at his grin. “Stick to pop classics.”

“Let me go with you, show you where you can change.” Taron said to her.

“I think I can find the bathroom myself. I have been there before.”

“Just, come on.” He took her hand without questioning it and guided her back into the kitchen. He picked up her clothes and led her up the stairs and into a room she had never been in yet and taking a glance around at the blues and greys, figured it was Taron’s old room but had been re-decorated since he moved out. It was overly tidy and clearly just used as a spare room but he continued to walk past the double bed and in through another door, behind which was a small en-suite. “Use to be my old room.” He explained. “Now I know I was a horrible stuffy mess in my Olaf costume and Elsa is an ice princess but if you wanted to freshen up, you can use the shower here. There are clean towels here too.”

Robyn took two steps to him and hugged him. “Oh my God yes. I am roasting after all that singing and dancing!”

Taron laughed giving returning her hug with a kiss to her cheek. “Thought as much.”

“Thanks Taron.”

“I will leave you to it.” He walked out of the room but turned when he felt Robyn following him. “You ok?”

“Yeah. My handbag is in Mari’s room.”

“Oh yeah. From when you gave her lipstick.” He winked.

“Our adoptive sister secrets.” Robyn winked back to him.

“See you downstairs.”

“Thanks Taron.”

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Love #Friendship #Birthday Party #Big Kids #Elsa #Excitement #Cuddles #Treats #Dreams do come True #Homemade Disney princess #Singing #Robyn and Taron

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