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#if you saw this before I noticed I didn’t have one of the layers selected
midnight-moth · 3 months
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CW BLOOD
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Swissalps Murder Ghouls - thank you @forlorn-crows and @mac-and-thefox for contributing to Mountain’s appearance HCs since I wanted to depart from the ones I had originally. And pspspspsps to @hypnoneghoul cause I always post at weird times when you’re asleep.
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art by em year in review 2023!
for the fourth time, i present to you a selection of the art i did this year! this definitely was the Year of Understanding Procreate, and i think it paid off. as usual, reflections under the cut.
january: i saw @malcolm-f-tucker tag a picture of abigail thaw with a comment about a theresa faceclaim and it left no survivors, i.e. i decided that theresa should have greying hair and did not look back. this was from when i was still trying to figure out what brush to use for lineart in procreate. luckily i had learned my lesson from the sketchbook learning curve and realized that what i liked for lineart would most likely be in the pencil section. however i wasn’t a huge fan of the brush i used in this one, so i didn’t use it again. instead, for later pieces, i decided to customize the 6b pencil brush to my liking, and…
february: …this came out of it! this is still one of my favorite things i have ever drawn, and it’s my favorite thing i’ve drawn yet for herc and linda. this piece really convinced me to use overlay layers more in my art, and the amount of detail i managed to capture in this one still amazes me now. and before anyone asks, yes, they are doing specific things in the startup procedure for an airbus a320-family aircraft, except linda is doing things off the CM1 checklist and herc is doing something off the CM2 checklist, which i learned later is not really something that is done. let’s just say herc is not the tightest stickler to convention.
march: one half of an intended two pieces centered around the f1 au (which, regrettably, i have yet to continue… i just reread what little of the second part is on ao3 and god, it slaps actually, i really need to continue it so bad) depicting a pivotal scene from around the outside, where theresa and linda decide to put aside a childhood feud at the top of the banked curve at monza. at sunset. on theresa’s birthday. i know, very meaningful, incredibly homoerotic. read the fic to see how well that turns out!
april: i always knew i wanted to redraw the first filipino!hercolyn thing i did back in 2020, the one that completely solidified in my mind the notion that These Characters Are Filipino, Actually, and when i got comfortable in procreate i quickly jumped on that. (if you notice, a lot of the stuff i did this year were redraws of old pieces i really liked but wasn’t fully satisfied with.) of course i wanted to draw them in the traditional clothes in my parents’ and grandparents’ wedding pictures. the implication of this being, of course, that this is the soft shoe shuffle wedding. i have a fic planned centered around that, from douglas’ perspective. now that grad school apps are basically done, if my honors thesis doesn’t kick me too hard, i’d love to get on that as soon as i can.
may: YOU JUST GOT COLINED! SEND THIS TO A FRIEND TO TOTALLY COLIN THEM! ah, colin fairbairn: the figure whose presence haunts all of newcastle but is never actually. named. (much to the chagrin of a lot of people who genuinely thought linda’s dad was named colin bc i Wouldn’t Shut Up About It) i just love him so much and i love this piece, i wanted to depict the wistfulness of an older colin whose airline is on the verge of collapse, who has been secure in his job as chief pilot of air cal, who looks out over glasgow airport (that’s glasgow’s runway in the background) and wonders if it’s time to put himself out to pasture. wondering what he could have done differently. it’s okay bby. there’s no way that you could have prevented this. but he’d never believe it. he’s too duty bound. he lives in my head rent free.
june: another redraw, this time of a piece from 2021. i was so happy with this one, and i am very happy with it still! everything about the older piece i loved was improved massively by this redraw: the poses, the proportions, the line work, the coloring. honestly, just thinking about the two of them just existing in the airport, overlooked by bustling passengers, just part of the landscape, but having such a rich history and relationship between them… it’s something i think about a lot and i love it.
july: this comprises the third part of an unofficial trilogy of drawings i did centered around douglas/martin/theresa. in each one, i centered a different member of the ot3: i did one centering martin last year, one centering douglas in the spring, and this one centers theresa between douglas and martin. i really enjoy how i did the expressions in this one: martin, looking out toward the planes; theresa, following his gaze, eager to share in the passion they both have; and douglas, looking down at both of them (yeah i think they’re both shorter than him. i think it’s cute). i feel like when i draw these three, where they look and how they look is very important to me.
august: can you believe before this point i had never drawn herc and douglas together? yeah, me too. anyway, them 🤍 i’ve literally only ever drawn them as older men so trying to draw them younger was. lowkey kind of hard. i’m hoping to revisit air england herc and douglas in the future, especially since i didn’t intend for this to be anything more than a quick bit due to those bisexual divorcee brackets (which i don’t know what became of them in the end except that douglas got through and herc didn’t, lmao)
september: unposted self-portrait done as a part of my aerospace fellowship application i wound up getting rejected from because they required me to do a creative component. not much to say here. anyways.
october: yet another redraw, this time of a portrait of herc, carolyn, linda, and arthur i did a year prior, in october of 2022. i like to think that lfeu!herc carries pictures of linda, arthur, and carolyn in his wallet: he had never wanted to be the family man for most of his life, but in his new life, this new form, he can play it well. something about the coloring seems a little off to me: i think i may have to go in and adjust arthur’s skin tone because i think it doesn’t look 100% right. but i love this one too. i hemmed and hawed for ages over what they should be wearing but in the end i put them in what they’d wear for work bc i couldn’t think anymore. but it turned out super cute and i think it emphasizes what brought the four of them together in the first place: aviation.
november: a cute little doodle of young!colin with baby linda, from a bigger piece. something i generally feel like i’ve gotten stronger with this year has been drawing a larger variety of poses. i discovered that procreate allows you to import reference images in a smaller window that can be very easily dragged around and resized, which was a massive improvement over my previous strategy with sketchbook, which had been to import reference images as their own layers. often, moving it around or resizing reference images resulted in some loss of quality. anyways there’s something just so tender about colin and linda and i love to revisit them.
december: last but not least, we finish off the way we started, with theresa (and an added douglas lol). and boy, how different does december look from january? granted, it’s a different angle, but i personally think there is so much more dimension at the end of the year compared to the beginning. i was less afraid of using overlays to enhance the coloring. and the brush i wound up settling on for lineart really ended up serving me well this whole year, culminating in this piece. not much to say on this one, i like it a lot :)
overall thoughts: i didn’t think i drew as much as i wanted to this year, but looking back i still think i made really good progress and improved a lot from last year, so i’m still happy. definitely want to draw more next year, explore new subjects, and maybe work on redrawing more pieces from previous years because those projects have been very fun to undertake.
once again i want to say a big thank you to everyone who’s ever shared or commented or left a like on anything i’ve drawn: it will have been 10 years next year since the end of the show i primarily create fanwork for, and to still have people out there who like what i do is such a gift. yes i create for myself, but i do also like receiving feedback from others and sharing it with others, so thank you thank you thank you. and happiest of new years to all :)
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bearhugsandshrugs · 1 month
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The Gorsimp Chronicles - Chapter 11
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Gortash x Tav | Explicit
Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Fic is written in turns by @bloodlessbhaalbabe and me! Dividers indicate POV changes.
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Enver walked them over to the restaurant with a hand protectively wrapped around Tav’s waist. Many of the clients of the Moonstone this evening watched them with curiosity as they descended the staircase. Tav was a sight to see in her sheer dress. The way it hugged her curves, it barely left anything hidden. 
After she got swept up by one of the deplorable men of this festhall earlier this evening, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight and made it known to anyone who dared to admire her who she would be coming home with. 
His face was still flushed from just a moment ago and a soft smile still creeped at the corners of his mouth. He tried his best to put on his respectable noble face, but frankly he didn’t care if anyone knew how smitten he felt at this moment. 
He approached the host podium and dropped a small bag of gold pieces onto it. 
“We’ll take the restricted booth in the back,” Enver said and the host frowned with appreciation and peeked into the bag. The host clipped the bag to their belt and nodded. 
“Right, this way sir,” The host said, grabbing two menus, and escorting them to a private booth of the restaurant that was closed off by two layers of thick, velvet curtains. The booth had large, plush seats surrounding a circular table. As soon as they sat, a gorgeous woman, hidden behind a mask came up to the table with a little quill and parchment in her hand. 
“Good evening, Lord and Lady Gortash,” the waitress said with a smile and a curtsy. Enver’s hand slid up Tav’s leg and rested it on her inner thigh before giving her a soft squeeze. “What can I get started for you?” 
Enver ordered the table three different bottles of wine, water, two ciders, and a charcuterie board to start. He moved the menus over to Tav to make a selection. 
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Tav stared at the menu, overwhelmed by the many choices. She’d eaten at the Elfsong tavern for the past year and their kitchen usually only had a selection of two dishes per night and they repeated throughout the week. Many of the dishes she didn’t even have a concept for, and she felt Enver’s eyes on her as she read through it. 
“Gods”, she whispered, “I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.”
Enver shuffled next to her. “Would you like me to take a look, dear?”
“No, I–... I’m okay.” There was a soup that sounded delicious, so she ordered that as a starter, and the Daintyfish special with roasted potatoes as a side, along with a mixed salad that sounded good. 
“Can we wait for the desert until after?”, she asked, and the waitress smiled. 
“Of course, my Lady.”
“Good, then I think that’s it. What do you want?”, Tav turned to Enver, who she now saw had watched her order with a slight smile on his face. 
“I’ll take the same.” 
It didn’t take long until the charcuterie board and their drinks arrived. They started out with the Saerloonian Glowfire, a white wine faintly tasting like summer and fresh pears, which paired nicely with the cheese on the board. 
Tav wondered if Enver always ate so fancy, or if he was making an effort for her? When he’d brought her breakfast, he hadn’t even bothered to cut the bread on a table or counter. Now they were sipping some of the most expensive drinks in Faerûn. 
“I just realized I don’t really know all that much about you”, she smiled, turning towards him. “Like. What’s your favorite food? Do you like dogs? What about hobbies? Have you ever been to Waterdeep?” She had so many questions about things they’d never talked about before, with work having mostly taken precedent. “What’s your favorite color? What–”
Tav stopped herself, noticing she was rambling again, and chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m just… I’d love to…. Tell me more.”
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Enver turned himself to face Tav and brought one on his legs up onto the elongated seat to sit more comfortably. He leaned his side against the back of the couch and took the hand that Tav wasn’t using in his. 
Enver hummed and chuckled to himself at her questions. Her attention and dedication to getting to know him was sweet, but unfamiliar. He recalled back on their conversations earlier this week about him being dismissive about these probing questions and he bit his lip in thought. It had been quite some time since he had thought about himself and his interests. He had been just running on fumes trying to survive since his death. He hadn’t realized how little living he was actually doing. 
“I’ll answer these questions on the condition that you answer them too,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the top of her hand. “And we go back and forth. I’d hate to be talking your ear off, my dear.” 
Tav rolled her eyes knowing that even getting him to talk about himself was nearly a gift in of itself. He took a sip of his wine and then took a quick bite of meat and cheese. 
“My favorite food is bread. I tend to forget to eat and it’s quick, easy and comes in many different flavors. But if we’re talking meals, then I like braised beef over soft potatoes and garlic roasted roouddan which is like a turnip,” he paused and took another sip of wine. “What did you do before getting the tadpole in your head?” 
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Tav frowned. Had they never talked about that? How could he not know?
“Wasn’t that in your reports on me?”, she chuckled. 
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“My intel on your didn’t expand that deeply unfortunately,” he laughed and shook his head. “You are clearly good at covering up your tracks. That or this big adventure is the first time you did something large enough to be documented.” 
He didn’t intend the last part to be insulting of her character or history, but it was true. A person was only remembered the more they were publicly known. 
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A blush crept up Tav’s cheeks and she shook her head softly. “You’re closer to the truth than you think”, she said quietly, but not hurt. It was simply that compared to him, she felt like she hadn’t really done all that much in her life. “It took me a really long time to figure out what I wanted to do. I wanted to be a dancer for a while, but I didn’t like working at night and spending most of my waking hours inside. I lived with a druid circle for a while, but I wasn’t patient enough to meditate. I was on my way to join the Harpers, or, well, apply for joining the Harpers, when the Nautiloid appeared.” She took a long sip from her wine. “I’ve always been good with a bow, and I’ve always been good at reading people and tracking things. Which, I think, is how I survived all of this in the first place.”
She cautiously looked at Enver to gauge his reaction and smiled when he didn’t seem to judge her for her history, but she was too nervous to actually have him say anything about it. 
“Okay, your turn”, she added quickly, not waiting for him to ask more about her story. 
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“I couldn’t see you as a druid. Animal lover? Sure. But their heightened righteousness of the right and wrong in the world? You don’t seem the type of person that wants to be good all of the time,” Enver teased as he dragged his eyes down her body, admiring the way she shamelessly presented herself so authentically. “Being naughty every once in a while is too much fun.” 
Tav tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and turned her head away to blush. Enver chuckled at her reaction and gave her hand a squeeze. 
“Okay let’s see. Do I like dogs? Sure. I don’t dislike dogs, but as I’ve previously mentioned I tend to forget to eat myself and taking care of something that is entirely dependent on you is something that I don’t think I can do. At least not now. I didn’t have any pets growing up either, so it’s not an emptiness in my life.” 
Enver continued, “Where is your favorite place to travel or what is the best place you have been to?” 
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Tav smiled to herself, trying to picture Enver with a pet. He’d probably pretend to be annoyed by it for a while before falling so quickly for it that he’d have half the city in turmoil, trying to find the best pet food and care one could buy with gold. Not that she’d tell him that, of course. 
“This is going to sound so silly”, Tav said, nervously fumbling with her dress before forcing herself to reach for more food to chew on so she could buy herself some time. When she’d emptied her mouth she took another sip from the wine, then straightened up, trying to make herself feel more confident than she actually was.
There were quite a few places she’d liked. Beaches she had loved, forests she had enjoyed. Cities she had marveled at. In a way, she had even liked Shar’s temple for its magnificent architecture and all the pretty marble. But if he asked her to name her favorite place? The best place?
“Here.” She looked him in the eyes and saw a flash of surprise before he caught himself. “I could tell you about wondrous landscapes or fascinating cultures, but nothing compares to being here with you. All of this–” She gestured around and up, “all of this is perfect. Coming here, with you, is the best thing that has happened to me so far.”
Enver seemed almost horrified and she swallowed, embarrassed by it all. It had been too much, hadn’t it? Shit. 
She pulled her free hand away from him, pretending she needed it to eat, and looked down on her plate. “Anyway”, she singsang to lighten her intense reaction.She couldn’t remember the other questions she had asked him earlier, her mind was just one blank canvas of mortification, so she burst out the first thing she could think of. “What’s your favorite weather?” 
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Enver frowned and pinched his eyebrows together. This place, with him, was her favorite? He almost laughed had she not said it so sincerely. He knew he had done well, but even after her months long adventure traversing through Faerun, this still was her favorite? It didn't make sense. This wasn't even the most she deserved. 
He swallowed and watched her fidget a moment, realizing he hadn't said anything for quite some time. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. Tav froze, unsure of why he was doing this at first, but then melted into his touch and wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, hugging him just as tight. 
“I really appreciate the sentiment. Don't get me wrong, I cherish the time we've spent together so far, but I swear I'll plan plenty of other adventures in the future that aren't at a luxury whorehouse.” Enver bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing. It was the sweetest thing anyone had said to him and he wasn't about to ruin it. Instead, he pressed his lips on her temple. 
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Tav leaned into his lips, relieved that he didn’t make fun of her. “I know you’re stifling a laugh”, she chuckled, “but to be fair I said it was silly.”
Enver only let out a small laugh against her temple, his face still pressed against her. She still felt a bit embarrassed but the moment was interrupted when the waitress came back to bring the soup, forcing them apart so they could continue their dinner.
They both dug into their starter in content silence, enjoying the food together, with only short comments about the taste and how delicious it was. 
“I have a surprise for you”, Tav said after finishing her soup, taking a sip of water. 
Enver raised his eyebrows in a question, but it wasn’t time yet. “Later. In our room”, she explained, grinning. “But I thought you should know that I have something planned.”
She was nervous about it, even though she had spent a lot of time preparing it before coming here, and she didn’t want to disappoint him so she quickly added: “It’s nothing fancy. Just something small. Nice. Something to enjoy.”
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Enver munched on the charcuterie board and filled up their glasses with more wine. Within this small task his mind wandered thinking about their future together. Would their lives be a lot like this? Going to nice restaurants, dressing up, and eating luxurious foods and wine every night? Would they settle down into a more domestic routine, or as domestic they could get with a chef and a couple maids? He wouldn’t mind the latter. He would have to figure out getting a job. Staying stagnant for too long aggravated the mind. He needed a hobby, or to start up one of his old ones. And what would Tav do? If she had wanted to be his beautiful captive dove where she spent the rest of her days spending his money and walking around their home with a dozen books in hand and an expensive robe trailing after her, he’d support her every step of the way. 
He doubted that would last very long. Maybe he’d get her dancing lessons for her to become a dancer like she had always dreamed and he’d pay her for nightly dances. He smirked at his own thought, but let it slip from his mind. He respected Tav too much to offer that seriously to her. 
Tav broke the silence first at the mention of a surprise, a gift maybe? He looked up from his plate and eyed her curiously. He couldn’t recall the last time he had received a present of some sort. Seeing Tav again was a gift in of itself he supposes, but it wasn’t intentional. Tav’s bag of tricks was a bit of a present. Tav taking care of him and giving him a massage? Also a gift in its own way. He gave her a smile and reached out to grab her hand. 
“That is… unnecessary, but incredibly kind and generous of you, my dear.,” he said. He lingered on the ‘later in our room’. Would this be of a sexual nature? He frowned thoughtfully, trying to imagine what she would have in store for him. Was it an actual present? Tied up, wrapped in a bow? His excitement bubbled up involuntarily as he took a few more bites of food and finished his glass of wine. 
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They made it nearly through their entire dinner until Tav couldn’t keep her excitement (and, in truth, nervousness) contained anymore. 
“Let’s skip dessert”, she suggested, “Or, well, have it upstairs.”
Enver didn’t argue, merely grinned, and they made their way to the portal, Tav holding his hand the entire way there. But before they could step through, she stopped him. A servant stood to the side, holding a long piece of black cloth – a blindfold – that Tav took with a thanks and a smile. 
“I’m gonna put this on you, but don’t worry, it won’t stay on for long. Only until I’ve prepared everything. Okay?” She waited for his approval, and when he nodded slowly, she tied it around his head, making sure he couldn’t peek underneath. 
The took his hand, walking through the portal with him, and noted with relief that the room had actually been prepared exactly how she’d asked the staff to do it. 
In the middle of the room they had fastened a pole, a comfortable chair placed so that Enver would be able to watch her dance up close without being in the way. The entire suite was lit up with candles that floated in the air (a small luxury she’d paid for with her own savings), and there was fog covering the bottom of the room around where she’d dance. The rest of the space had been filled up with magical darkness so the focus inevitably was on her and the small area they’d be in, and she had received a scroll to revert the suite back to normal later. 
A music box where she would play the tunes needed for her dance stood off to the side on a small table, along with more drinks on ice. 
Tav led Enver to the chair and asked him to sit without peeking out, telling him she’d be right back. “Don’t worry”, she said gently, “I’m not going to gag you, or tie you down, or make you do anything at all, really. The only thing I ask is that you stay seated – and, well, that you don’t peek. Other than that you can do and say whatever you want.” 
She hurried into the bathroom to change, taking off her dress and putting on black lace stockings with golden garters, as well as a matching set of underwear and gloves. When she returned to the room, she put on the music and swallowed nervously, hoping he would like what she had thought out. 
“You can take the blindfold off now.”
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Enver took over his blind fold and blinked a few times at the sight in front of him. His eyes scanned the room admiring the candles, but not seeing anything else around them as the pole was lit up like center stage.He glanced back over to the pole that magically appeared in the middle of their room in a manner of hours. His mouth laid agape, impressed and amazed at the set up. Tav stepped in from the darkness and walked up to the pole. 
Enver leaned over to place his elbows on his knees as he bit his lip. His pupils dilated so wide they nearly blended into his dark brown irises. He dragged his sights so slowly up Tav’s body like he was etching every single stitch of lace into his head until finally he met her gaze. He was unashamed at the way his cock began to twitch and press against the seam of his tight leather trousers. 
“Oh, so this is the type of dancing you didn’t want to work nights for,” Enver nodded and swallowed. “I understand now and I’m pleasantly surprised.” 
Tav grabbed onto the pole and slowly walked around it with her gloved hand before resting her back against the pole and sliding down with her legs spread. Her hands slid up her knees and thighs, then ran over her chest. Enver, for the first time in a long while, had not a single thought. His mind was empty and the only thing projected into that darkness was the spotlight accentuating every single one of Tav’s delicious features. 
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Dancing had always been something Tav enjoyed doing, even if it wasn’t necessarily this kind of version. But she’d planned this through, and so far, everything was according to plan. Judging by Enver’s face, he was exactly how she’d wanted him.
She jumped up on the pole, hooked a leg around it and slid down in a circular motion with the other stretched out, looking almost as if she was floating while her head was thrown back, hair flowing as she spinned around the pole.
Once she was done she strutted over to Enver, legs tapping in sync with the music, and sat down on his lap with her legs placed on either side of the chair. He smirked and brought his hands to her waist immediately, and Tav had to chuckle at him not being able to keep his hands off of her.
Slowly, deliberately, she pulled at her gloves until the fabric hung empty over her finger tips. Then, she brushed it against his lips, demanding: “Pull.” Enver bit into the thin cloth and pulled the gloves off on both hands, with Tav rolling her hips into his waist in tune to the music. She had to remind herself that there were more moves to go through, more clothes to take off, or she would have seduced him on the spot.
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Enver watched with wide, captivated eyes, following Tav’s body as it spun elegantly around the pole. He laughed with delight as Tav dismounted and made her way over to him before straddling his lap. He admired the beautiful black and gold lingerie, his favorite combination, and rested his hands on her hips as she rolled them against his hardening cock. Enver let out a soft moan. Between the pressure and the tightness of his leather trousers, the movement was a perfect recipe to make a mess of himself. His cock twitched and a small spot of pre-cum pushed into the fabric in a perfect circle. 
He couldn’t help the strong grip he had on her hips as she undulated on top of him. He barely could keep his hands off of Tav in normal circumstances, but now as he eagerly absorbed her performance, he was grateful that she was his so that he didn’t get yelled at had this been a normal club experience. 
Tav took advantage of the way his mouth had not shut since the moment his blindfold was taken off and rested a finger on his bottom lip. Enver bit down on the piece of loose fabric and Tav removed her hand before wrapping the glove around Enver’s neck and moving onto the next glove. 
Obediently, he bit again, removing the second glove and tossing it to the side. Tav leaned up from his lap to pull his face into her chest and smothered him with her breasts before standing up and swinging her hips to the beat of the song. Enver’s hair was sticking up in some places, but still a grin stayed plastered on his face as he leaned back in the chair and spread his legs. His thick cock clearly on display unapologetically. 
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It was delicious to watch Enver enjoy her show so deeply. After everything he’d surprised her with, Tav also delighted in the fact that she’d given him something unexpected. Stepping up between his legs, she put her foot up to his crotch, the heel dangerously close to his erection. 
“Could you please help me take this off?”, she said innocently, and he chuckled and took off her shoe. Once she was only in her stocking on that leg, she slid her foot over the outline of his erection, pressing down on it through the leather pants, eliciting a short groan from Enver. 
Then she stepped back and put up her other foot, repeating the same game. Once her shoes were gone, Tav sat down on his lap with her back to him, rubbing her body against his in rhythmic movements until she heard his breathing pick up enough. Slowing down, she gathered her hair to the front, leaving her back bare except for her bra. 
“Oh”, she batted her eyelashes for dramatic effect as she looked over her shoulder back at him, “I think I need help again.”
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Enver leaned forward and pressed his lips down her spine before sliding his hands up to her bra and unclasping each one slowly. His hot breath on her skin caused goosebumps to rise and let out a small shudder. “This type of entertainment would cost men with smaller pockets an absolute fortune.” 
Her bra popped open and she stood up, holding the bra in place as she stepped back over to the pole. Enver pulled his money bag off of his belt and tossed it with a loud thud onto the stage. 
Tav looked down at the bag of gold coins and rolled her eyes at Enver and laughed. “You’re no whore, Tav. The cost of a whore is 45 gold pieces. If I double that price, would you let me fuck you like one?” 
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This is exciting, Tav thought. Enver actually saying what he wanted, and it wasn’t ‘I want what makes you happy’? She nudged the bag with her foot to make him wait a bit, teasingly raising an eyebrow, before she looked back at him. 
Tav took the bra off and held it to her right side with her arm outstretched before letting it fall down without answering his request. “Well”, she smirked, “I think that’s a fair offer. Allow me to make one in return.” 
Enver stared at her, a spark in his eyes. Tav took a small step towards him before she answered. “I think my answer is yes. But if you triple it, I’ll even let you call me a whore.”
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Enver smirked, “What would make me happy would be to make it well worth the name of a whore in the first place. To hear you scream because you cannot think of any words other than my name. A whore that actually comes. I want you overstimulated and shaking as I fuck your dripping cunt and make you come over and over, begging me to stop because you can’t take it anymore,” Enver’s hand gripped onto his own knee as he looked at her, telling her his deepest desires. He leaned back onto the chair and pressed a hand down onto his aching cock pushing against his pants. “Count the coins if you must. There’s over 500 gold pieces in there. It’s yours. But first, please, finish your performance. I’m very much enjoying the show.”
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The room felt very hot from the pictures that Enver’s words had painted in her head. Tav tried to push them away, knowing she wouldn’t be able to continue with her performance otherwise.
“Deal”, she smiled. She continued with her performance, dancing around the pole in front of him, incorporating poses that showed off her flexibility and body alike. 
Then she slowly walked over to him, sitting down on his lap once more, her core pressed firmly into his hips. Tav looked down on the garters on her thighs and leaned forward so she could whisper into his ear “One last time please”, so he would help her take off her stockings. 
Enver started fumbling with the fabric, and Tav couldn’t resist trying to distract him a bit, sucking the skin on his neck until his eyes rolled back and he groaned softly. Once he’d loosened both sides enough she stood up, turned around, and bent down with her ass in his face, pulling the lace of her stockings along with her underwear down to her ankles. Tav rolled her hips as she bent up again, then stepped out of the clothes. 
The last part had been not as professionally looking as she had wanted but she was increasingly excited and nervous about the end of her dance and what would happen after. Tav finished the performance with a few more moves, teasing Enver with everything she had, always pulling away just before he could grab or reach her from his seat. 
Finally, she walked over to the pole, pulled her hair up with her hands over her head, so she could let it fall down slowly as she lowered herself into a widened squat. 
“There”, she smiled, holding her pose. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”
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Enver licked his lips and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He leaned back, relaxed in the chair and Tav finished her performance. He was in his element. This side of him he wasn’t too sure if Tav would even like. The side of him that convinced a lot of people to put him into a position of power. Sure, he had a little help from a God being the chosen of Bane, but Bane doesn’t answer every call. Enver had to be the most cocky, charming, and eloquent person in the room in order to win over the people. He thought about the power he once held and how the people adored him – would bend to his every whim. 
Tav wouldn’t bend to his every whim. She is flexible. But even the most flexible things break and there was an urge inside of him that wanted to break her. To see that pretty face streaked with her black make-up from tears of unadulterated pleasure. 
Now with Tav, spread bare in front of him, he cocked his head to the side and smirked. She dropped down to her hands and knees and looked up at him expectantly. 
“I haven’t been more entertained in my entire life. How special it was to experience that as the sole attendee,” he saw how her eyes glittered with the praise while a small smile curled her lips. 
Enver pat his thigh twice. “Come here,” his voice was low and demanding, and yet seductive. 
Tav sucked in a quick breath. Their roles changed entirely from just a few nights ago.
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She strolled over to him, relieved that he’d liked her gift and smitten with his reaction. It reminded her of the early days, when they had just met, and Tav had secretly tried to get more and more meetings and time with him so she could watch him work, and maybe, when she was lucky, talk to him by herself.
When she sat down on his lap, she smiled sheepishly, a bit nervous about what he had in mind now with his voice and attitude so different from the last days. Was he serious about what he had said before? Tav was trying to ready herself as she considered for the first time that night that she might have to surrender control to him.
She gave him a short kiss and then looked at him, waiting.
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One time on my parents' old Macintosh, I made an irradiated people kinda thing, except with different colors and an extra layer of complication. It had some kind of "weirdness" selector that made it freak out. You'd select the kind of weirdness and then it would just kind of warp, I think. And the color scheme and weirdness scheme would sometimes synchronize (make it look less weird, I think?).
It was maybe the coolest thing I'd ever created, and I was very proud of it. So much so that when a friend visited a couple weeks later, I proudly showed it to him. In retrospect I'm sort of surprised he didn't get creeped out by it, but he was really impressed and everything.
And then, one day, I was just minding my own business, staring vacantly at a piece of paper, when my parents said, "Hey, Joe, do you remember that weird irradiated people thing we made back when we had that old Macintosh? Your friend saw it and was really impressed by it."
I had no memory of making this irradiated people thing. Every aspect of it was a mystery to me. It was a black hole of my consciousness. Why did I make this? Why did I take the time to do this? I must have spent days on it. My parents wanted to see it again, and I didn't even remember seeing it the first time. And the part that's really weird is that I've only had two moments like this, that I can remember, in my life -- not moments of amnesia exactly, but moments when I remember being certain I remember a specific incident (being sure I remember it, down to what it was like and who I was with) . . . and then, after further reflection, I can't find any memory at all of it. I know something happened, and I know I was certain I was certain, but I don't know what.
For example, here's what I remember about the other incident: I remember being at a picnic in the park. I remember being with my friend Tim, and that we were playing a game that involved two people trading places between circles of people they knew and saying stuff about themselves. It was very fun. And I remember having fun with it and then suddenly becoming aware that I was sitting on a bench that had a fairy-tale illustration carved into it, a bench that I had noticed a few times before and always thought was cool, but had never actually bothered to examine. The bench was carved into some kind of sculpted wood, and the wood was polished, so it had a kind of smooth, reflective sheen, and I saw that the wood looked like it had been carved into the shape of a face. A lovely, exquisite, fairy-tale face, all curling, rounded lines, no hard angles or anything, no sharp edges or points or anything. It was a face of something -- I don't remember what -- that looked like it was suspended or floating, like it was in the process of becoming something else. And then, just as suddenly as I had become aware of this face, I disappeared from the bench and, presumably, from the picnic altogether, and was standing alone in a small, empty room in my house, staring at the fairy-tale face, trying to recall what it was from. And I'd stare at it in this room in my house, and I'd look away, and then I'd look back, and eventually I could see it, and see what I had seen, but the fact that I had seen it vanished, and I was certain I was certain I was certain, but all the memory I had was a memory of staring at something beautiful, a memory that I had spent years on, again and again, with no direction or meaning.
I know it is possible that I made it up, or that it never happened. It is possible I can't remember because I don't care. I know I have forgotten a lot of things, and this is just one of them. (And yet, in some way, I have the impression that these two things -- the irradiated people thing and the fairy-tale face and the picnic and the bench, the "revelation" that I spent years thinking about and staring at something beautiful and pointless -- are closely connected. But I don't know that, I just have the impression of it.)
It's a hard thing to explain. I've had two of these "revelations," that I can remember. And I have no idea why I don't seem to remember this stuff.
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jasmariswonderland · 2 years
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Shining Hearts Chapter 1 ~ Costumes and Confessions
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Chapter Summary: Soon after returning from winter break, Danica begins preparations for the coming cultural festival with Farron’s help. And contemplates the thoughts she has for her dorm leaders. 
Word Count: 3765
~~~
Pomefiore Dorm - Farron’s Studio 
The door leading to the studio was cracked open ever so slightly, and from the corner of her eye, Danica could look inside and saw one of Farron’s dress forms draped with an indigo Pomefiore cloth. A twinge of happy anticipation went off in her stomach. She knew what was under the cloth and knew it was for her. A million possibilities went through her mind at what the final result of her and Farron’s brainstorming would be. Right before winter break, she had given him a handful of ideas of what she wanted to wear for the VDC. Details that, she was certain, with his imagination he would take and create something gorgeous and worthy of victory.
“Come on in, Cygnet, and prepare to pick your jaw off the floor!”
Danica pushed the door open. She greeted Farron cordially, fighting back the very strong urge to pull the cloth off the dress form right then and there. But she knew to give him the satisfaction of revealing his work himself.
“I’ve seen the things you’ve made for Vil-san. And for the film research club,” she said, grinning. “I’m so excited I’ll finally have the honor of wearing your beautiful work myself!”
“Would you like to see it first?” he asked. “Once you’ve decided you like what you see, and once the other six members are selected, we’ll all work together to create pieces that highlight each lady’s style and personality. Now, close your eyes, Cygnet. And don’t open until I say so!”
With her heart racing and her grin becoming wider, Danica closed her eyes and covered them with her hands for good measure. Farron waved one of his own hands near her covered eyes and when he saw she couldn’t see, smiled as he swept the indigo cloth off the costume with an elegant flourish.
“Okay, open!”
Danica opened her eyes and was seized by the very alarming but very euphoric sensation of love at first sight. A strapless dress of two colors, sleek black opening upon an under layer of deep and shimmering violet, laced with thin black ribbons at the front and adorned with black sequins. Soft black feathers decorated the bodice and a multistrand belt of onyx beads hung loosely against the waist. When Farron turned the dress form around to show the backside, the belt swayed with the dress, causing the beads and sequins to sparkle. The black fabric caught the light and Danica could see small hints of sparkle there as well.
“Ahhhh!! Ohhhh, Great Sevens!!” she gasped. “This is incredible! Better than I ever dreamed!”
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “And now, I’m going to step out momentarily so you can try it on. We can see if I must make any alterations.”
What Danica felt as she slipped on the dress and laced the beaded belt through its loops, she could not easily describe. The feathered bodice wrapped nicely around her body with the hi-low skirt stopping slightly above her knees. She turned around a few times in the full mirror, admiring how her porcelain complexion contrasted dramatically with the sleek dark fabric. And she noticed acutely how much skin was revealed by the strapless bodice but it didn’t bother her. The whole look was very grown up, but still suited to her age and personal style.
Of all the stage costumes she had worn in the past, this one was unlike any other. It was beautiful. No, more than beautiful, it was striking, it was elegant. And wearing it gave her a feeling she had never before experienced in clothing. Like the feeling of perfecting her unique magic and watching someone fall under its influence. Or the feeling she received when people watched her dance or sing. How they would stare at her with awe, dazzled by her stage presence.
Power
This was power. She felt powerful and with this, Danica would soon be reborn, becoming the kind of performer she always, secretly, wished she could be. Not one chronically afraid of being perceived, no longer fearing judgement, but one who commanded her audience with all the confidence of one well aware of their magnificence. Yes, this was what power felt like. Victory at the VDC was as good as hers, performing in an outfit like this.
“You’re glowing, Cygnet.” Farron grinned as he returned to the studio, closing the door behind him. “I’ll take that as sign of your satisfaction then?”
“Oh yes, absolutely!” Danica replied, joyfully spinning around with all the enthusiasm of an excited little girl. “I can’t describe it, but I feel like this dress has cloaked me in some kind of power. The power I’ll need to win. Farron, did you use any magic in the construction process?”
“None whatsoever, but what you’re feeling is a power,” Farron smiled. “The power of looking amazing and knowing you look amazing! And you do!” He took her hand and turned her around in the mirror so she could admire her costume from every angle. “I know you said you were thinking of a dark color palette and wanted to add feathers. So I decided to go with the school colors since you will be bringing home a victory for NRC. See? The colors match our ceremonial robes. That’s also how I decided on black feathers, like the elegant ravens of the night!”
“Night ravens…” she thought aloud. “I can see that, however when I see this, the image I get is of black swans.”
“Black swans, like the black swan from the ballet. I like that image too!”
“The Black Swan was charming and graceful, just like the White Swan. But she was also powerful, dangerous and bold, that’s how I feel wearing this. And now that I think about it…” laughing a little. “...that’s exactly the image I was going for. A beautiful but dangerous black swan, exactly what I was envisioning.”
“Dangerous? Bold?” Farron gave a teasing wink. “I do believe Vil’s teachings are beginning to rub off on you. On that same note, have you two actually discussed your plans for the VDC? Like what song your team will be performing?”
“Not yet,” Danica replied, still focused on her reflection. “We’re supposed to meet this afternoon. Me, Taima and her sister worked on a few tracks over winter break so we’d have options. Vil-san said he’d have final say on the song but I’m sure…”
A tint of red flushed her cheeks at a sudden recollection of something that transpired during that same winter break, mere days prior on the final evening of the previous year. Her train of thought was momentarily lost and Farron had to retrieve it for her.
“You’re sure that…?”
“Oh! I’m sure Vil-san and I will see eye-to-eye and he will acquiesce to what I want.” The flush on her face darkened. “Since winter break ended he’s…been uncharacteristically nice as of late. Have you noticed?”
Farron had not and from the look on her face, he could tell there was more to what she was saying. His curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. Perhaps the rumors were true.
“Danica, dear, do you mind if I ask you something?” His sudden dropping of her nickname caught her interest and she nodded slowly. “I promise I won’t tell anyone your answer but, was it planned?”
“Planned? Was what planned?”
“The ball, your dance. When you left for winter break, I don’t recall you saying your ballet performance for the ball would be a pas de deux, let alone with…”
“OH! THAT!” Danica covered her cheeks as a sudden rush of heat came to them. “No, no. It wasn’t planned at all. I was as surprised as everyone watching, probably more so. I was terrified!”
“Really?!” Farron’s eyes widened. “But from an outsider’s perspective, it did seem planned. The way you two moved, it was so natural, so smooth. As though you and Vil rehearsed for weeks!”
“Nothing couldn’t be further from the truth! Initially, I was planned to perform with four others from my dance school. But a few days before the ball, I was told I would actually be dancing solo, and then, once I walked out onto the dance floor…”
“There was Vil,” Farron finished her sentence, furthering her embarrassment.
“Yes! There he was! Vil Schoenheit, our dorm leader, leading me in a completely unplanned pas de deux! It’s a wonder I didn’t pass out!” Danica sighed. “Would you like to know a secret, Farron?”
“A secret? Certainly.”
“Before that moment, I previously had very little experience dancing with a partner. My ballet teacher had only just begun teaching us before I began NRC. Everything I did with Vil, was just me improvising from what I’ve seen in other ballets. I know magicam is flooded with videos of our performance but I’m afraid to look at them because I had no idea what I was doing. Vil was whispering instructions throughout, but still, for all I know, they may look very clumsy.”
“Clumsy? Far from it, my dear,” Farron couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “In fact, I was looking at one such video before you came in, would you like to see?”
Danica hesitated before agreeing. The video Farron showed her was incidentally the most popular upload at that moment. It only showed the last minute and a half but showed the moment in their dance when Danica’s confidence was in full bloom. Making several bold turns around her partner before he took her hand and lifted her in the air, with as much ease as if he were lifting a feather. She watched this with a fluttering sensation warming her chest, becoming warmer as she read the title of the video.
“Princess Swept off Her Feet By Vil Schoenheit: Is This Bad Boy Secretly A Prince In Disguise?!”
That’s exactly how it felt. Danica thought. It was only by imagining he was my prince that I was able to keep my nerves in check. And the way he praised me, kissing my hand when we were done…he’ll never know what an incredible moment that was for me.
“Cygnet?”
“Oh, oh,” Danica shook herself from her thoughts. “You’re…right, we look amazing. I guess I had nothing to be afraid of after all.”
“Yet your face still says you’re still upset about something.
“No, no. I’m not upset or anything. Just surprised. And confused.”
“Confused?”
“You remember how Vil was acting right before break right? He was acting so cold, cruel even. Threatening to pull me out of the VDC if I didn’t cancel the holiday promotion I did for my parents. I didn’t understand it. But when we danced together…I…he…” Danica turned from Farron, in case her face was giving away the words she did not speak aloud. “...but now, the difference in his demeanor is like night and day.”
“Ahhh, I think I understand now.” Farron smiled.
“What do you understand, Farron? Because I would love to end this confusion I have.”
“Take off your costume and return to your dorm uniform. You look ravishing and thankfully it doesn’t seem alterations will be needed. Once you’re dressed, I’ll explain all to you.”
Eager to finally have an answer, Danica made quick work of this, slipping her Pomefiore top and robe over herself as she pulled the dress to her ankles. She didn’t even bother to add the ribbon back to her hair, a gift designed specifically for her uniform, and held onto it as she sat down.
“Okay, now please tell me why Vil-san has been so hot and cold lately,” she said. “Cause I’d like to be warned if his mood decides to swing again.”
“I doubt that. But let me first ask you a question. The photos from your shoot for Ledelle cosmetics were exquisite, and the commercial was very lovely. But what did you think of your modeling partner?”
“My modeling partner? Oh you mean Neige Leblanche? Well, he was nice I guess. Very sweet and approachable.” Danica giggled. “Kind of like a puppy!”
“And what do you think of him compared to Vil?”
“Compared to Vil?” she hesitated. “I…well…ehhhh, honestly Neige is kind of flat compared to Vil, if that’s the proper word. I know I just compared him to a puppy but the thing is, those traits would be more acceptable if he was a puppy but he’s not. He’s older than me. Charming for sure and he’s extremely adorable, but I feel like he’s TOO adorable. Does that make sense? I don’t know, I guess I just like what Vil-san has going on a bit more.”
“Ahhhh I see,” Farron nodded. “Well to answer your question, Vil’s ire with you wasn’t at you per se. But with the fact you were in a commercial and photoshoot with Neige. I’m sure you’ve seen the films they star in.”
“I have. Really I was always taken with Vil’s acting,” Danica smiled. “I remember when I first spoke to Vil at our welcome party, it was like seeing one of his characters emerge from the silver screen. I was so afraid of even meeting his gaze.”
“And he kept scolding you about that!” Farron winked.
“Don’t remind me! But even though I was afraid, I was more so captivated. He’s very compelling as an actor and incredible as a model. My two besties at RSA are huge fans of him too.”
“That may be but Vil and Neige are as much stage rivals as they are academic. There is an interesting dichotomy between them that has existed since they both debuted. They both have beauty worthy of the heavens but Vil’s is very dynamic and intimidating. I’ve heard people say he’s almost too perfect. Neige on the other hand is adorable and pure but as you said, he’s too pure and too adorable. But while they are on different ends of a beautiful extreme, it has affected what roles you see them take.”
“Hmm, I never really thought about any of this, my friends and I just always preferred Vil more.”
“And rumor has it Neige will head the boys' team for the VDC this year.”
“That still doesn’t answer why Vil was upset with me. If he has issues with Neige, how does it relate to me?”
“Ah, sweet cygnet.” Farron grinned. “Very well, I’ll ask you another question. You might want to think carefully before you answer though.”
“Hmmm? You can ask me.”
“What do you think of Vil-san? Not just as a dorm leader and senpai, I mean personally. Do you like him?
“Like him?! You…don’t mean like a friend right? You mean…” Farron quickly nodded and blush shot up Danica’s face. “AH-EH?!?!? I…I mean…uhhhhhh…” she wrung her hands, pressing them to her scarlet face. “I do but…I…Vil-san he…I…errmmmm…oh…ohhhhhh…”
“My my, such a strong reaction!” he chuckled.
“I…I mean…it’s not like I haven’t imagined it. But kinda like how I imagine what would happen if a meteor came from the sky and destroyed Twisted Wonderland! Although, I’d prefer dating Vil-san to that.”
“Uhhh, I think I would prefer that too,” Farron laughed. “And I think THAT might be more of a possibility. After all, you like him, right?”
“I…well…yes I do like him, but that doesn’t mean he likes me the same way. And besides…” she blushed again. “My feelings are…somewhat complicated because I…” The memory of another moment during winter break returned to her, darkening the blush on her face. “I think I’m crushing on two people at the same time. Vil-san and…well…someone else.”
“Someone else? Ohhhhh?”
“If I tell you, do you promise…”
“Far be it from me to betray the trust of one I consider a friend,” Farron smiled, answering her question before she had finished. “Tell me, Danica. I swear, not even Sidonie will know.”
Danica waited until she was sure the blush had fully faded before taking a deep breath and leaning into Farron’s ear. She bit her lip and then murmured the name of her second crush, though too softly for Farron to hear. She spoke his name again, a little louder but Farron wondered if he had misheard.
“I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say Ro…”
“I did!” she quickly interrupted him, not even bothering to become embarrassed again as she felt the time for that had long passed. “I did. Yes, it’s true I am crushing on both my dorm leaders! What is wrong with me?”
“Wrong? I see nothing wrong here. Honestly, I get it. For a long time, I was crushing on Vil myself. And Rook, well he’s not as beautiful as Vil for sure. But he’s more…dashing and exquisitely rugged,” Farron grinned. “You have impeccable taste, my dear!”
“You don’t think it’s odd that I’m developing feelings for two people at the same time?”
“Hmmm, not really.” He placed his chin in his hand with thought. “I will say, both think very highly of you but in different ways. But at some point, one of them will stand out more in your heart and your feelings for the other will eventually fade. So I wouldn’t worry.”
But asking Danica not to worry was not usually the easiest task. From the moment she entered Pomefiore months prior, she felt herself under a great deal of pressure. Rook’s initial warmth helped alleviate some of the pressure, and his charming praise always put her at ease even if his words often bordered on blatant flirtations. They had a sweet yet unorthodox dynamic that Danica strangely enjoyed.
Vil, on the other hand, expected nothing less than absolute perfection from her. She was never under the illusion that life at NRC would be easy, but Vil’s exacting expectations were on a whole different level even compared to her own perfectionist streaks. Oddly, he seemed to take very little issue with her personally, compared to other freshmen. There were times when Vil seemed almost sweet in how he encouraged her potential, but he never praised her to the degree Rook would. He was distant, often critical, but still kind.
Though Danica often thought herself in Vil’s good graces, it didn’t mean he was ever easy on her. In fact, she sometimes wondered if his expectations for her were greater even than what he wished for Epel. From making her sing solo for the first time to insisting she dance for a group of famous reporters visiting the dorm and then deciding to sit in on her practice sessions, it always seemed like Vil was testing Danica. Testing her determination, testing her introversion against pressure, testing to see if she was worthy of being a disciple of the Fairest Queen.
And now, with the VDC, she felt that she would soon be given yet another test, the most important test of them all. But despite it all, despite her occasional distress and fears, Danica truly respected and admired Vil. She could see his drive and wanted to emulate it and pass all his tests. When he led her in their pas de deux, Danica saw firsthand how Vil was able to captivate the audience, exactly what she wished for as a dancer.
Over the course of winter break, Danica was able to see new sides to her dorm leaders during the unexpected moments they spent time together. First with Rook, during a visit to Sunset Savanna to see Taima and her family, and then with Vil during their dance at the ball. Even if these moments left her heart confused, and even if it was distressing at times, Danica wanted to meet the expectations of her dorm leaders. To earn their approval, their respect and, in the deepest corners of her mind and heart, maybe even the love of one of them. Farron could see the deep thoughts going through her mind and decided that she could use some assurance.
“I can see how your feelings are troubling you, Cygnet. You were kind enough to trust me with some of your secrets today. How about I tell you one, it might help lift some of those troubles from your heart.”
He noticed how Danica was still holding her dorm hair ornament in her hands. When she nodded her interest in his secret, he sat her down, turning her head back to the full mirror. Gently, he pulled the ribbon from her grasp and placed it in her hair before brushing it in place.
“This hair accessory was a gift for you, do you remember? On the day of your concert back in October.”
“I remember, honestly since receiving it I feel like my dorm uniform was lacking before having it.”
“It matches perfectly and suits you perfectly too. I should know, because I made it.”
“Really?” Danica turned to him with a little smile. “I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. I’ve seen the other lovely things you’ve made for others in the dorm.”
“Now here’s my secret. I was sworn to absolute secrecy, to never tell anyone who commissioned me to make it for you. I won’t tell you either, but what I will tell you…” a mischievous grin spread across his face. “…is that it was commissioned by one of our own dorm leaders!”
“WHAT?!”
Such was her surprise that she actually jumped from her chair, not realizing Farron was still brushing her hair and squeaking when he unintentionally pulled on it.
“Vil or Rook gave me this gift?! You mean to tell me, every time I walk down the hall of these dorms and greet one of them, they’re looking not just at me, but a gift from one of them…oh…ohhhhhh” Her face was as red as an apple. “This changes everything! Farron, please tell me who…”
“What did I just say?” He laughed. “I was sworn to secrecy! And I take that very seriously if you hadn’t noticed! I didn’t even tell Sidonie, so what makes you think…”
“I promise I won’t let him know that I know!”
“Forget it, Cygnet! Consider the truth a mystery. A mystery for you to solve!”
Danica grumbled but she knew there was no use in trying to coax Farron. She was certain that whoever commissioned him, probably really did not want her to know. If it was Rook, her knowledge might ruin the current, playful dynamic they both shared. And if it was Vil, he might fear the knowledge of his feelings would cause her to become lax in her self-improvement. This is what she told herself and she sighed, half in defeat and half in determination. She would find a way to solve this mystery.
“Could you at least give me some clues?” she asked. “It doesn’t matter how vague.”
“Fine, one clue,” Farron smirked. “Your admirer is blonde and eighteen years old.”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!”
“You said I could be vague!”
“Ugh, you’re correct, I did say that.” She fell back into the chair as he laughed again. “Well, I do have to meet with them later today, perhaps I will find clues of my own.”
“I wish you the best of luck, Cygnet.” He smiled as he pulled her costume back onto its dressform. “And I can’t wait to see you on stage in this, now the second thing I’ve created just for you!”
~~~
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attysullivan · 2 years
Text
Wyrm Your Way Out || Portia & Cass
TIMING: Current  PARTIES: @attysullivan & @stolensiren SUMMARY: Portia and Cass both pick up some older infrequently used books at the library only to find the pages blank and infested with Bookwyrms and they make a series of attempts to handle the situation.  CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A
Libraries had always been safe spaces for Portia. They held pathways to other worlds of both science and mysticism. In fact, it was her love for reading that spurred her love for the law. So it was no surprise that the White Crest Public Library quickly became one of Portia’s favorite hang-outs after moving to town. She noticed a sea of regulars over time. Some looking for the latest romance novel and others on a seemingly constant pursuit of otherworldly knowledge. For the longest time Portia just thought the big, old, dusty books about mythical creatures were just that … myths. But once she found herself bound to some being known as a fae, she began to wonder what those strange books might actually contain. 
It took some time, but she finally decided to crack one of them open. Based on the thick layer of dust across the top and sides of the volume she had selected, Portia suspected that nobody had opened this one up in quite some time. As she began to take the book over to one of the empty tables, she decided to open it up to get a look at the table of contents. “Huh…” The first several pages were blank. She looked through the next several pages. Some had writing… but many were blank. Then suddenly she felt a small bite on her hand. Looking down she saw a small bug - which caused her to let out a short yelp and drop the book she had been holding.
 Normally, when Cass visited the library, it was to browse their selection of comic books. Leah usually set aside the ones she thought Cass would like, and she’d spend hours reading through them at the tables. But in recent months, she’d taken to looking in other areas, too. Learning about the supernatural — and learning that she was a part of it — made her realize just how little she knew about the world as a whole. It brought her to the ‘mythology’ section today, hoping to find more information on the thing that she and Sloane had faced off against in their time travel adventure.
Except… the first book she opened on the shelf was empty. No words on the dusty pages at all, no nothing. Cass couldn’t hide her shock at the blank pages. And it seemed like maybe she wasn’t the only one having issues — the woman closest to her, who’d grabbed another book from the shelf was looking perplexed, too. Cass started to say something, but before she could get a word out, the woman yelped and dropped the book. Quickly, Cass moved to her side. “Whoa, hey, are you okay? What happened?”
Portia had been so focused on finding a book that might answer her questions and then so confused by the blank pages she didn’t even realize that there had been another person in the mythological section with her. So when the other woman came over to her after she made a bit of a commotion, her cheeks flushed a soft red with embarrassment. “Shit, sorry. I’m fine, just overreacted to a bug that had been on this book.” 
Bending down to pick the book back up, Portia gave it a quick glance to make sure there weren’t any other bugs on it. “I guess nobody’s cracked this open in quite some time. Which… makes sense given that more than half the pages seem to be blank.”  Portia looked down at the book the other woman was holding and saw a similar looking small bug crawling out from between some of the pages. “Oh shit, careful - I think your book has one of those weird little bugs on it too. Maybe we should tell the librarian about this?” Just then she felt another small bite on her hand and as she looked down at the book she could have sworn she saw some of the words disappearing before her very eyes. 
Curiously, Cass leaned forward to look at the book in the other woman’s hand. Like hers, it was empty. Like hers, it shouldn’t have been. The mention of bugs in the book sparked some suspicion, too; Cass knew Leah well enough to know that she probably wouldn’t let the library become infested with insects. She looked down on the ground where the woman had dropped the book, spotting a tiny bug crawling its way back to the shelf.
It was only when the woman mentioned her book that Cass looked back to it, just in time to see one of the bugs crawl from the pages onto her hand. The resulting bite was sharp and felt something like an ant bite, and Cass hissed as she tried to shake the bug from her hand. The movement turned her head, ensuring that she was looking right at the book the other woman was holding as the words vanished from the page. “Uh…” She trailed off, eyes wide as she stared at the book. “Okay, something… weird is going on here. I don’t think these are, like, normal bugs?”
Portia looked back up at the other woman when she heard her make a noise. At least she wasn’t the only one these bugs felt inclined to bite. However, Portia didn’t love the phraseology that she used to describe the insects. Not normal bugs. It made her wonder if other people throughout her life, or at least throughout her time in White Crest, had said similar things in the past that she just never picked up on. Because until a few months ago the opposite of normal to Porita was strange… not supernatural. 
“Well, I don’t think any bugs are really normal. They all kinda gross me out.” Portia didn’t know if it was denial or fear that made her want to ignore things that weren’t normal. She looked at the ground where she had dropped the book originally to see one of the little worms crawling on the ground and squashed it with the heel of her shoe without thinking. “Luckily these seem… fairly easy to deal with.” Maybe they didn’t have to address the elephant in the room that both of them had seen the worms sucking ink off of the pages of these old books. 
There was a tightrope you had to walk in a town like White Crest. You never know if the person you were speaking to knew about the world beneath the surface or not, and revealing it to them could be a very dangerous thing. More dangerous for someone like Cass, who was something a little more than human, something different. But… Sometimes, the world sent a gust of wind your way, and staying balanced on that tightrope became an impossible task. This, Cass thought, might just be one of those times.
“I mean, some bugs are normal. Like, cockroaches are gross, but you see them all the time, right? But these are…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to have to say it, but she wondered if she’d be given much of a choice here. She thought of Metzli, of the way they’d revealed the supernatural to her in an explosion of ash and dust that had been shaped like a person only moments before. Bugs, at least, were a kinder introduction to this life than that, weren’t they? But still, Cass hesitated. Maybe it wasn’t her place. “How many of them do you think there are? If there’s a bunch, it might not be as easy as stepping on them, right?” 
There was a knowing tone in the other woman’s voice that Portia was trying to reconcile with. It was what she didn’t say that held weight, and Portia felt hyper aware of that. “Yeah, these are…” She let the silence speak for itself. As they spoke it seemed like more and more of these stupid bugs began to appear. Not wanting any more of them to bite her, she decided to sort of shake the book out to knock whatever bugs were in there to the ground. 
Rather quickly, she realized how much of a mistake that was. There were way more bugs in that book than Portia had anticipated. And as they tumbled down to the ground they began to disperse quicker than she would have expected. “Oh fuck.” She muttered. “Too many, evidently. There are too many of them.” She tried to stomp on as many as she could but it wasn’t gonna cut it. “I’m so sorry. You were right, these bugs are… we need to take care of this quickly before they spread.” 
There seemed to be some kind of understanding there, though Cass couldn’t be sure how much. Maybe she should have pushed a little more, tried a little harder to see if she could coax out an answer as to just how much the other woman knew about the parts of White Crest that were a little less Gilmore Girls, a little more Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but there were more important things to worry about in the moment. Like, for example, the sheer volume of bugs that spilled from the book when the woman turned it over.
Quickly, Cass jumped back to avoid the scrambling insects, not wanting to find out what might happen if they got into her shoes. “Yeah, that’s not — It isn’t great.” She watched as the bugs moved towards the bookshelf, knowing that if they got to it, they’d bury themselves in more books and, presumably, eat more words from the pages. “Maybe we should bait them out!” She quickly moved to the nearby table, where someone had left a few copies of some romance novels out. It wasn’t great — any book being destroyed was hardly a win — but it was definitely easier to get more copies of romance novels than it would be to get additional copies of some of the books on this shelf, which looked a lot older and a lot rarer than the paperbacks on the table. “Help me try to coax them into these instead!”
Portia was pretty impressed with how quickly the other woman had come up with a solution to the problem. Well, maybe not a true solution, but at least a viable plan until they could either get help or figure out how to kill all of these little critters. Without missing a beat, she followed suit and grabbed a few of the novels with bare-chested men and damsels in distress before opening them up and tossing them in the general direction of the worms. 
“I really hope the library doesn’t charge us for … possibly destroying these books.” Sure in the grand scheme of things, it seemed far better for the objectively easier to replace books to get eaten up by the little pests, but Portia wasn’t sure if the librarian would truly understand what was going on here- especially considering that she didn’t even know what was going on herself. “Okay, I think it’s working? They’re moving away from the stacks.” Once she noticed a decent amount of them had crawled into one of the books, Portia tried to get a bit closer to it to slam it shut - hopeful that the force of doing so would kill them. “I can’t tell if squishing them actually kills them or not.” 
Luckily, the other woman was quick on the draw. She didn’t question the solution Cass put forth, and Cass was glad for it because, truthfully, she had no idea if it would actually work or not. For all she knew, they weren’t achieving anything with all this, but she threw the romance novels between the worms and the shelves, anyway, hoping that it might have some kind of an effect.
“Oh, don’t worry about it! I know the librarian, and she’s totally chill. She won’t be mad.” She was making promises on Leah’s behalf that she wasn’t positive were true, but she had to hope for the best here. She was sure the librarian would understand sacrificing easily replaced books for rarer ones. And if not… Cass would find some way to replace the books. “Yes!” Cass pumped her fist as the bugs migrated from the shelves to the romance novels. “I’m not sure, either,” she admitted. “Maybe… Maybe we just transfer them to the novels and get the novels out of the library?”
Portia had no way to know if the girl was lying about knowing the librarian, but it made her feel better about potentially ruining several books. “I like that idea in theory. Less thrilled about it in practice mostly because I can’t think of a way to transport these books out of here without touching those things and/or getting them all over me in the process.” 
“Unless we can find some bags to shove them into?” Portia looked around for something like a  nearby trash bin that could serve their purpose. “I don’t exactly know where we could take these to get rid of them, but the library does seem like the worst place for these things to be.” Finally she spotted a couple of seemingly abandoned backpacks nearby. She went over to them and carefully dumped out their contents before bringing them back over to the situation at hand. “I’ll clean and return them when we’re done.” 
The woman made a good point. Picking up the books now that they were crawling with the worms was a lot easier said than done, and they already knew that the little things had a bite to them. Cass wasn’t looking to get bit any more than she had already, especially not when she didn’t know much about the worms. For all she knew, they were, like, wereworms or something! She did not want to turn into a giant worm come full moon time. 
Glancing around quickly, she searched for something that might work. She spotted the backpacks just a moment after the other woman did, nodding at the find. “Yes! That’s perfect. As for what we can do with them… I don’t know. Set them on fire?” Or find someone who might know how to get rid of them. Maybe Metzli or Marina would have some idea.
“I never thought I’d be in a position where I was weighing the pros and cons of book burning…. feels sacreligious.” Unfortunately, Portia didn’t have a better idea. Or at least not one that wasn’t equally as destructive. It was almost odd how urgent a task this felt considering that the bugs weren’t moving as fast as she had previously thought they were. Maybe that had just been her adrenalin working in overtime. 
“Okay, fine. I guess we’re burning some cheesy romance novels.” With careful hands, Portia began to close and pick up some of the books once it seemed like a decent number of the worms were on them before quickly shoving them into the requisitioned Jansport. “Though once we’re done with this you should probably talk to that librarian friend of yours because I have a bad feeling you and I didn’t just happen to pick up the only two books that were infested.” 
“I know, I know,” Cass agreed with a sigh. She didn’t like the idea of it, either, but… It was looking more and more like it might be a necessary thing. The bugs weren’t too fast, but they made up for it with just how destructive they were, and stomping them all was unrealistic. Some were bound to escape, if stomping them killed them at all. Fire was a much surer thing, in her experience. 
There was some relief when the other woman agreed with the plan, mixed in with the guilt from the concept of setting books on fire. Cass didn’t think they had a lot of time to argue here, after all. She followed suit, waiting until the romance novel closest to her was full of bugs before closing it with a disgusted face, putting it into the backpack. “Oh, yeah. I’m definitely getting with her as soon as we’re done here. She’ll probably know a better permanent solution to all this.” Something that wasn’t a desperate attempt to minimize damage before it became too much.
The library wasn’t often the busiest place in town and Portia felt extra grateful that today was a slow day. What she was doing was strange enough without having to try to explain what was going on to anybody. Not that she really even had the words to explain any of it. “Any plans for the fire aspect of all this? Cause… not only is burning books in public sort of a bad look, but it would also technically, probably, require a permit. Which we don’t have time for.” 
At first she had been worried about the bugs trying to escape the backpack once they were shoved in there, but much to her surprise they seemed perfectly content staying put with their newfound snack of cheesy novels. “Besides,” Portia continued, “I don’t have matches or a lighter on me at the moment.” There were only a few stragglers writhing around on the floor headed to one of the few books still laid out - unknowingly inching towards a fiery demise.  
A permit. That was an obstacle Cass hadn’t really considered… probably because she rarely, if ever, considered the overall legality of her actions. “Okay, we may have to, like, technically break the law a little bit, then.” It was an obvious enough solution for Cass, who’s go-to often ended up being something a little less than lawful. The question mark in the scenario was how the other woman might feel about it… and it was a question mark that really stood to throw a wrench in things here.
It was the second obstacle put forth that provided more of an actual obstacle. Cass didn’t have matches or a lighter, either, and that made setting fires hard. “That’s… a pretty good point. Fire might be off the table, then. We could, um, throw the books into the sea?” Marina would not be happy about it, but they could fish the books out after the bugs had drowned, couldn’t they? Or, better yet, “Or soak them down in the sinks! Drown the bugs. Right?”
“Look, I love a good technicality… but if we’re getting technical, I did sort of swear an oath to uphold rather than break the law.” Portia grabbed the last book once all the worms she could see had climbed onto it, then shoved it into the backpack before quickly zipping it closed. “So, unless illegal fire is our only option here…”
As she took one last scan of the floor to see if there were any straggling bugs left behind, she heard the woman’s alternative option. “Technically that’s polluting…” Water wasn’t a bad idea though. Presuming these bugs died like normal bugs, depriving them of oxygen should do the trick. Before Portia was able to suggest a water-based alternative, however, her partner in non-crime had come to the same conclusion. “Great minds. Clean up might be a bitch… but can’t think of how that would be illegal.” Backpack in hand, Portia started towards the library bathroom. “Well, that’s not true. Destruction of government property by ruining the books… but honestly, these bugs are the ones doing the destruction.” 
“Oh my god, are you a cop?” Cass eyed the woman suspiciously, squinting as if she might be able to solve the ‘mystery’ of the stranger’s occupation just by looking hard enough. She didn’t know of any other career where someone might have to swear an oath to uphold the law… but, to be fair, she didn’t know a lot of careers to begin with. If public schools in Ohio had career days, she’d missed every one of them. “I guess it isn’t our only option.” But it was a fun one.
Polluting definitely wasn’t a very good alternative. The more she thought about it, the less Cass liked the idea of putting anything in the ocean. The lake wasn’t an option, either; Teagan was already disappointed enough in Cass, and she didn’t want to… add to that. The sink was the best option here, even if cleanup was going to be a headache. “We’re, like, saving government property! It cancels out. Two negatives making a positive… or something.” Cass trailed behind the other woman to the bathrooms, gripping the second backpack tightly. “And we’re gonna replace the books, anyway!”
“Okay, that’s the second time this week someone asked me if I was a cop. Do I look cop-y? I’m not trying to come off like a cop.” Maybe Portia would just have to start being more direct with her vague legal references. She really didn’t want people thinking she was a cop. “I’m a lawyer. Defense.” 
Drowning the bugs and books in the few sinks available was far from ideal. And Portia was honestly starting to have second thoughts about doing so. As they entered the bathroom, Portia plopped the backpack she had been holding onto the floor to inspect it. “Huh. They’re either not trying to get out… or they’re not successful at it.” She looked down at the small welts on her hand where the bugs had bitten her, then looked over at the brunette. “I almost don’t wanna open it up again, ya know?” Her tone was mostly joking, but there was a pang of truth to it. 
“You don’t look cop-y, the whole ‘uphold the law’ thing is just a cop-y thing to say!” Cass was actually pretty good at spotting cops most of the time. It was a side effect, she figured, of living on the streets for the years she’d spent there. “A lawyer,” she repeated with a nod. “Like She Hulk. Cool.” Okay, so maybe everything she knew about lawyers came from a mix of She Hulk, Daredevil, and Law and Order, but she was pretty sure it gave her a good base to go off of.
Cass definitely understood the other woman’s apprehension. Soaking books in a bathroom sink really did feel wrong, even if the books in question were cheesy romance novels. “I think they’re just… happy to eat what we’ve given them for now.” Until they finished their ‘meal,’ at least. But after that? They’d go right back to destroying more. “Maybe we can just take them away from the library? I don’t know. I’m not really sure what to do here. It feels like there’s no good options.” 
“You know, that’s wicked fair. Cops break the law more than they uphold it though, but that is some shit they’d say.” Portia actually laughed a genuine laugh at the woman's next comment. “I mean, I don’t transform into a giant green rage monster in a physical sense, and I’m pretty sure being a vigilante is frowned upon, but otherwise … not a bad comparison. Except in those runs when she was a ADA. That’s a very different kind of lawyer.”
“Two women with stolen backpacks filled with romance novels and worms standing in the bathroom of a public library with no idea what to do next,” Portia said as a sort of sarcastic narration of the pickle of a situation they found themselves in. “The thing is, these are… weird bugs. What if they’re amphibious weird bugs? Then we’ll be left with a pile of soggy books and very much alive bugs. If we just get them out of here, maybe we could… find someone who has a fireplace or incinerator? Or ask your librarian friend what we should do?” The irony was that Portia was trying to find a rational solution to an irrational problem. It didn’t stop her from trying, but it still felt impossible. 
“What they do and what they say don’t always line up with each other,” Cass agreed with a nod. She grinned as the woman laughed at her comment, pleased with herself for drawing a positive reaction out of a stranger — a holdover response from her foster care days, she figured. “I mean, aren’t the best things always frowned upon?” Being a vigilante was fun. Cass would know. “I don’t know the different kinds of lawyers, so I’ll just have to take your word on it.”
Snorting at the assessment of the situation, Cass nodded her head. “That pretty much sums it up.” She hadn’t even considered that the bugs might be amphibious, but in White Crest? Nothing was off the table completely. “Maybe we can take them to the forge in the Outskirts,” she joked. That was probably overkill. “Or… Soak ‘em in Off. Hey, maybe chemicals aren’t such a bad idea?”
“A chemical soak would probably do the trick. Even if they were bugs that could survive in water I doubt they’d be able to survive in chemicals.” Portia couldn’t believe how quickly this situation had gotten away from her. She was usually very resourceful, focused, and committed to solving problems. But this whole bugs eating words off of printed pages had thrown her for a loop. 
With what seemed like a viable solution on the table, Porita looked around to see if the bathroom had a supply closet in it. Bingo. To her delight, the door was unlocked. As she pulled it open it revealed a lovely large mop bucket and a few bottles of miscellaneous cleaning materials. “This should work, yeah?” She asked as she turned back to the younger woman. “Fill this thing bucket up with this stuff and… hopefully bye bye bugs.” She shrugged softly before wheeling the large bucket out of the closet and towards where the backpacks were laying on the floor. 
“Yeah! Yes! For sure!” If they weren’t destroying the library’s books, Cass might have felt bad about sentencing the little bugs to death, but… Well, the books were important. And she doubted there was any way to remove the bugs without killing them, at least no way that would ensure they wouldn’t come back. Some things just had to be done. Cass was learning that more and more, in White Crest.
The supply closet was a good find, and Cass nodded quickly as the woman pulled out the bucket. She wasted no time in opening the bleach on the cleaning cart and dumping it into the bucket, wrinkling her nose at the smell of it. Reaching into the first backpack, she pulled out a book. “Well, here goes nothing!” And, without further fanfare, dropped it into the bleach with a plop. “How do you think we know that it’s, like, working?” 
Portia grabbed a few more bottles of bleach and industrial-grade floor cleaner and brought them over to the mop bucket. She didn’t know much about science… but for a moment she wondered if they should be mixing random chemicals in what she presumed to be a poorly ventilated room. Figuring they’d be fine as long as they worked quickly, Portia followed suit and grabbed one of the books before submerging it into the bleach. 
She looked as the two books floated in the bucket, the liquid flowing between the pages and seeming to release the bugs from within as the pages began to soften. “I have no idea…” Portia placed her hands on either side of the bucket and gently rocked it. The books were floating towards the top, their pages seemingly free of strange little worms. “I think they’re sinking to the bottom? Which, even if that’s not killing them at least it’s getting them out of the books?” 
The stench of chemicals was strong, burning Cass’s nostrils as it wafted up from the bucket. She made another face, though she didn’t move away from the bucket. She could stand the smell just a little while longer if it meant the bug problem was solved. 
Looking down into the bucket, she watched as the pages were soaked through. The books were definitely ruined, but they would have been, anyway. The bugs obviously weren’t going to get out of them until all the words were gone from the pages, if the other books were any hint, and a book without words was nothing more than cardboard and paper, anyway. “Well, that’s good at least? We can dump them down the drain or something. Then they’ll be out of the library, even if they’re not dead.” And they’d tell Leah what was going on so that she could get rid of any other bugs and prevent them from coming back. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but at least it was a plan. “How long do you think we should let them soak, though? It smells.”
“Out of the library, sure. Not thrilled about where they might get to from the drains if a bucket full of bleach can’t drown them.” But there really wasn’t a better option. Not one that Portia could think of at that moment, anyway. So she reached into the backpack beside her and put the last couple romance novels into the bleach. 
As she stood up, Portia grabbed the backpack and cautiously examined it to see if there were any stragglers. There weren’t any. Whatever those worms were,  they didn’t seem to care about anything other than books. “We could always… just shove the bucket back in the closet without dumping it? Put an out-of-order sign on the bathroom door? That way your librarian friend can see what they look like at least? Maybe figure out what they are and how to properly get rid of them - presuming the bleach didn’t do that job already.” None of this felt right, but Portia also knew that either way a decision needed to be made. 
“That’s… a really good point.” A library might be the absolute worst place for book-eating-worms to be, but there were plenty of places that were only marginally better. A bookstore, someone’s personal shelf. They could destroy someone’s livelihood if they got loose in an author’s house somewhere, couldn’t they? Maybe releasing them into the drains was a bad idea, too.
Cass considered the woman’s idea with a nod. It still wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly better than most of the other things they’d come up with. No one was likely to touch a bucket full of bleach for no reason, and Leah would be able to take a look at the worms and figure out what they were far easier if she knew exactly where to find them. “I think that’s the best plan here,” she agreed with a firm nod. “I’ll warn the librarian, and she’ll know what to do with them. One way or another, they’ll be taken care of.”
As Portia stood there, watching the bleach slowly wear and discolor the books they had dropped into it, it felt a bit surreal. She had come into the library today to learn more about fae and she wound up learning about something entirely different. And the other woman didn’t seem all that phased by what had happened. It made her wonder if they weren’t exactly human. But making presumptions these days always felt more risky than usual. “Yeah, that sounds good. Her library, her books… her bugs, technically. I think letting her make the choice on what to do with them is best.” 
Carefully, as to not spill any of the liquid, Portia pushed the mop bucket on its wheels closer towards the storage closet where they found it. “Th-” Old habits are hard to break. “I appreciate you jumping in and helping with all this. My name’s Portia, by the way. Portia Sullivan. I’d shake your hand but I feel like I should go home and soak in a tub for about seven hours before I touch anyone else after… all that.” 
“I’m sure she’ll be grateful we got them out of those books at least.” Their solution wasn’t a perfect one by any means, but the problem was, temporarily in any case, handled. There were probably more bugs in more books, but now that she knew they were there, Leah would be able to get rid of them. Cass was pretty confident that the librarian would know exactly what to do. Leah had, after all, proven plenty resourceful in the past. 
Smiling, Cass raised a brow but didn’t comment on the woman’s cut-off thanks. She must have known a thing or two about White Crest, at least. That was good. “Yeah, you too,” she agreed, wrinkling her nose and looking at her own hand with a nod. “Agreed. But I’m Cass. It’s nice to meet you, Portia, even if the circumstances probably could have been better.”
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lcksndkys · 3 years
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Pairing: JJK x reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: smut, fluff, tiny hint of angst
Word count: ~8k
Summary: Save a drum, bang a drummer. 
Warnings: one tasteful semi-nude sext, brief flashback of male masturbation, discussions about conception, an unholy amount of nipple play, blowjob, fingering, pussy slapping with a dick (but like, romantically), unprotected sex within an established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie
A/N: This is my first attempt at creative writing… ever. Borne from my horny imagination and a thirst dream, this piece is an epilogue of sorts. S/o to @jinpanman ​ and @wwilloww ​ for being the wind beneath my wings and the floaties around my arms. Also, big thanks to Willow who made the banner <3
There are two things you know are happening tonight. One: Beyond the Scene is out celebrating the completion of their newest EP. Two: your husband, the drummer of Beyond, is going to come home, high off the adrenaline of a successful night, and fuck you into oblivion. Your period tracking app that you both have been studiously monitoring over the last few months has notified you that you were going to be ovulating over the next couple of days. 
You slip into one of Jungkook’s oversized cut-off tanks and a pair of crotchless black lace panties that you know he likes. Checking in the mirror, you see a generous view of side-boob due to the cut of his shirt and you turn around and decide to forgo bottoms entirely—they’ll be discarded soon anyways. Your husband may be out with the boys tonight, but you’re determined to wait up for him. It’s not that late after all. You roll over, pulling a bottle of lube from the nightstand and set it out for later.
Lying in your shared bed, you check your phone again, reading the last messages you sent to each other.
[9:51pm] Jungkook-ah: i’ll be home late babe. dont wait up. love you.
[9:54pm] You: … but i’m ovulating today. I want you.
You haven’t heard from him since. Tapping to the camera icon on your phone, you decide to send a little more encouragement. You quickly snap a photo of your torso covered in his shirt, making sure to give a tasteful glimpse of your ensemble. 
[11:39pm] Jungkook-ah: fcuk. dont temnt meee idk when ill  b home
You sigh. He's definitely drunk which means that even if he did come home soon, he’d be too wasted to finish the job, more likely to fall asleep seconds after washing up. Tossing your phone onto your pillow, you roll to Jungkook’s side of the bed. Breathing in his clean, slightly sweet scent, you let it comfort you as your eyes close. Your mind drifts off to the first time you ever saw Jungkook as a man. 
Sprawled out on a twin sized bed, there was barely enough space for the two of you. Propped against the headboard and wearing nothing but a smile, he laced his fingers behind his head and cockily encouraged you to take pictures. “They’ll last longer,” he had said. Cheeky brat. You had instructed him to pleasure himself as you watched. “Tell me what you think of when you touch yourself, Koo” to which he replied, “You in my clothes with nothing on underneath”. He had whined, panting and desperate to hold off his climax with the hopes that he might get to feel you wrapped around him. 
You made him promise that night would be a one off; an itch scratched. And above all, he wasn’t to speak of that night to anyone, especially his sister- your best friend. At the time, an emotional relationship was not something you were ready to pursue. And certainly not with someone so intimately linked to your inner circle. So when it happened again, and then again, you proposed an easy benefits-only relationship to which he quietly accepted. You didn’t know he had been secretly yearning for something you could not yet give him. Despite trying to push him and your emotions away, Jungkook persisted, and with time and patience, you let him into your heart and let him show you the meaning of true love. 
With a love-sick smile plastered on your face, you drift off to sleep, plans for tonight all but forgotten.
_______________________________________________
Eyes still closed and hanging on to the quickly fading wisps of your dreams, you unconsciously feel around the sheets for your husband. When your hands come across nothing but layers of bedsheet and blankets and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s body heat, you roll over seeking the comfort of his embrace. 
Sitting up, you see that he must’ve moved you during the night towards your side of the bed before climbing in behind you. Realizing you’re still in his shirt and the sexy panties from last night, you huff out a groan of annoyance. 
You get out of bed and make the short trek to your bathroom to wash up. Jungkook never missed an opportunity to “practice” baby making. The thought that he was avoiding a session in the sheets with you makes you press the bristles harshly against your teeth. 
Upon returning to your bedroom, you see that at some point Jungkook had plugged your phone in to charge. You open up your app and double check that you’re still within short the ovulation window. 
The shuffling of slippers alerts you to your husband elsewhere in your shared apartment. As you leave in search of him, you notice he had put the bottle of lube away. 
Padding out towards the kitchen, you can hear the tinkling of dishware and cutlery. The smell of toast floats through the air as you spot Jungkook at the counter pouring his cereal into a bowl of milk. Endearing. You smile, remembering he once reasoned that adding cereal to milk ensures you won’t be left with any soggy bits. 
Coming up behind him, he startles a little with your quiet arrival. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing a light kiss between his shoulder blades, and nuzzling your face against the wide expanse of his back.
“I missed you last night, baby,” you coo. 
Turning in your embrace, Jungkook wraps one arm around your shoulders and uses a pointer finger to gently tilt your head, aligning your mouth to his. He leans down to give you a sweet, chaste kiss in greeting before pulling away. 
“I’m sorry I was out late. But I’ll make it up to you ok?”
“How about you make it up to me right now?” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively, stepping back from his grasp. 
His eyes rake up and down your figure, pausing to take in the long expanse of skin showing from under his cut-off tank. You turn your torso slightly, lifting your arms up overhead to smooth back your bed head, allowing him a generous view of your tits through the large armholes. You smirk to yourself knowing this simple outfit is one of his favorites on you. 
“- oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, feeling the beginnings of desire stir in his sleep pants.
“I was so ready for you last night,” you continue, planting your hands behind you on the kitchen counter opposite of Jungkook. With a hop, you sit yourself upon the cold hard surface and try not to cringe at the sudden change of temperature on your bare rump.
You beckon towards your husband with a crook of your finger. 
“I even wore one of your favorites,” you purr. Slowly trailing a hand towards your hip you pull the hem of your—well, his—shirt up, exposing some of the black lace panties you had worn. 
Jaw clenched and brow furrowed. You enjoy Jungkook’s rapt attention.
“Come closer” you plead. 
When he shows no sign of approaching, you lean back onto your elbows and prop one foot onto the countertop. Parting your legs, you smile victoriously when Jungkook’s eyes drop immediately to your exposed core. Thank goodness for crotchless panties.
His throat constricts at the sight of your pussy, framed in black lace, and bared lewdly for him. 
“Fuck,” he growls lowley. You watch his throat bob again swallowing down a moan. He looks from your eyes, to your lips, and down between your thighs. Cock hardening, his desire rises hot and heady at the sight of you glistening before him.
Seeing him grow in the unforgiving fabric of his grey sweatpants, you grin at his visceral reaction. “You know I’m ovulating, right?” You bring your other foot up onto the counter further spreading yourself out for him. “Fuck me, baby. Fill me up with your cum.” A little dirty talk was nearly always enough encouragement to get your husband started.
Doe eyes wide, he is torn between his carnal desires to ravish you on the countertop and his mounting emotional distress. 
When your husband doesn’t immediately react to your proposition, you know something is wrong. You hop off the counter and come to wrap around him. Jungkook has always been a shy boy, and as he got older, grew into a reserved man. He had a small social circle, knowing first hand that some people had no qualms with using him for his services. He was the golden boy. Jungkook was good at things and always has been- drums, sports, computers, video games, writing music, singing, sex. Many people sought to use him and had gotten away with it. And at first, he was eager to please; to prove himself worthy of the attention. But it wasn’t long before he grew cautious and began to keep a selective few close, including you. 
You've always seen him. And you see him now, eyes tight with emotion he's been holding back from you. He hasn't done that in years. 
Your arousal from earlier has all but dried up, evaporated with the sense that something important is weighing on Jungkook. 
"Do you need me to listen or find a solution?" you ask him. 
"Listen" he replies softly. 
You take his hand, leading him towards the couch. Sitting down, you part your legs pulling his back to your front. You wrap all four limbs around him and lay back to let his weight press the both of you into the cushions. His hands immediately go to stroke along the soft skin of your shins. You tuck your face into his nape, ghosting soft kisses along the skin available to you. Holding him against you, you feel Jungkook slowly melt, head leaning back against your shoulder. You know he’ll speak when he's ready.
“I just… Lately I’ve been feeling like you only want a specific part of me,” says Jungkook quietly. His hands go to tuck back some of his hair behind his ears- a nervous tell he's never been able to kick. "And I guess it kind of reminded me of the time from before we officially got together, ya know?" 
You feel your heart crumble in your chest at his admission. At that time, you weren’t ready for what Jungkook wanted to give you, convinced that the age gap and BTS’s rising fame would ultimately lead to disaster. Thus you had pushed for a purely physical relationship. He had agreed mistakenly believing that having your body, but not your mind or heart, was better than not having you at all. He hoped that time and love would help you change your mind. Luckily for both of you, it did. 
You want to say something to comfort him, but you remember he asked you to listen. You stay quiet, giving him a safe space to speak.
"And I know we're trying for a baby, but lately there's no intimacy when you make love to me. It's like once I finish, it's over and you push me away to lay with your legs up against the wall." 
You feel his ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, and then another. In, then out. 
"You know how important aftercare is to me," he continues. You do know. Jungkook is a romantic; being held and praised for a job well done has always been just as important as the actual act of sex for him. "And if you're just trying to fuck me, I don't know if I want it." 
There's a few moments of pause.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to have sex?” you ask softly. 
Jungkook’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “No! I mean- I want it, trust me, I want you. But the last few times, it felt like you just fucked me until I came.” Jungkook goans. “You didn’t even finish. Makes me feel like a bad lover."
You cringe remembering that the last time you had been intimate with your husband, you straddled him and then rode him fast and hard until he spilled his seed inside you. The whole ordeal lasted 3 minutes tops, and then you were rolling off him onto your back leaving him to clean up on his own. 
Sensing he was finished, you start to apologize. “I had no idea you felt that way,” you start. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”
“I just- I love you so much, and I would give anything to make you happy,” he says quietly. His hands continue to absentmindedly traverse the length of your legs.
Your hold around him tightens, a silent I love you. 
“What do you wanna do today, baby? Today’s all about you,” you promise. You’re ready to give your husband the attention he craves. 
“Anything?” Jungkook asks, craning his head back to meet your gaze.
“Mhmm.”
Jungkook smiles, pleased with your enthusiasm. 
“I promise you I’ll give you a creampie, but can we please just play super smash bros first?”
Seeing the child-like wonder in your husband’s eyes, you can’t help but chuckle at him. Jungkook has always been easy to please and competitive to a fault. 
“Sure, Kook-ah. Maybe I’ll even let you beat me” you joke, fingers digging into his ribs causing him to laugh and squirm from your grasp. 
Jungkook unwinds your legs from around his waist to set up the gaming console. 
_______________________________________________
After several rounds of super smash bros, Jungkook has other ideas in his mind. Pulling you onto his lap, you’re forced to part your legs to straddle him. He fingers along the hem of your shirt pulling up the backside to expose your bare ass. 
“Ah, you wore these for me?” he asks, hand rubbing circles along your quickly heating flesh. 
“Depends. Are you ready to take them off me?” you retort with a wink. 
Giggling, Jungkook lunges for you, wrapping his strong arms around you and burying his head into your neck. You feel the gentle pressure of his lips suckling and tilt your head further back to grant him more access to the sensitive skin of your neck.
He laps against your throat, making you moan out in satisfaction. Your arousal starts to leak onto Jungkook’s grey sweats as you absentmindedly grind your bare cunt against the stiffness growing there.
“Mmm, fuck. Let’s go” you pant, urgently tapping at Jungkook’s shoulder.  
Walking into the bedroom, Jungkook slowly lowers you down to the ground, letting your front drag along his, your soft curves trailing along the firm planes of his chest. The moment your feet touch down, you gently press a hand against his chest- right over his thrumming heart- and encourage him to sit at the edge of your bed. His eyes gaze lovingly up into yours, a small smile hanging on his lips, waiting for your instruction. 
You tug at the hem of his shirt. “Can you take this off, baby?” 
Jungkook eagerly nods, licking his lips in anticipation. He reaches back, hooking his fingers into the neckline of his collar and pulling his stupidly oversized shirt over his head in one swift motion. For a second, he lets you admire his body. He works hard to achieve his physique and enjoys knowing you’re your attraction towards him has never waned. 
You swallow down a groan as your eyes trail from his chest, dusky nipples pebbled with arousal, down his abdominals, towards the bulge in his sweats. Your husband is a beautiful man, inside and out, and he is all yours. Tonight and forever.
Climbing into his lap, you straddle him and cup his face between your hands. Jungkook needs emotional intimacy, and you’re prepared to deliver.
You kiss his forehead. “I love the way you think. You’re quiet, but so clever, and I wish more people could see how your brain works. You’re considerate of other people and so fucking humble, qualities I really admire about you.”
Moving down to his eyes, you place twin kisses over his closed eyelids. “I love the way you see the world. When I’m tired, you remind me that there is so much beauty in the mundane, and I’m so lucky to see it all by your side.”
You reach down for his hands and press your lips along the knuckles of both his hands. “I love the life you’ve helped build for and with me. People always say you’re good at everything, but they don’t see how hard you work to earn it. I respect you so much for that.” You play with his fingers- somehow long and delicate, but strong at the same time- and lace them together.
“I love your nose,” you continue, pecking the tip. 
“But-”
“No interruptions, Jungkook” you hold up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “I know you’ve always thought it was a little too big and round when we were younger, but it shows how much you’ve grown into yourself over the years. You are so sexy- both on the stage and off.”
You pull back in time to see him fighting down a shy smile at your praise. “Besides, a man should have a big nose,” you wink. Unable to hide his toothy smile or blushing cheeks, you continue.
“I love these cheeks,” you say, planting sloppy kisses over his face. “When you smile - a real, genuine smile- your whole face lights up. I hope our children inherit that.”
You plant more against the beauty marks on the bridge of his nose and under his lip, on the faint scar high on his cheek. “So beautiful,” you murmur against his skin.
“These are my favorite lips. You were the first man that I believed when you told me you loved me.” You press your lips against his, kissing him gently. Tilting your head for a better angle, you press forward more ardently, and part your lips further to slide your tongue against his.
When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, face craning forward to chase your kiss. You card your fingers through his hair and push him back enough to look into his eyes again. 
Your lips continue their loving path down his face, nipping along his sharp jawline and down his neck, paying special attention to his sensitive pulse point. Jungkook whimpers in appreciation encouraging you to work color into his skin. 
“Most of all, I love your heart.” Your arms wrap around his torso, hands caressing up and down his back as your head tips down to press your mouth against his chest, just left of center. “You are patient and kind and romantic. You show me every day what true love means, and I am forever grateful for that. You have all of me, and you always will. And tonight, I want to make you feel good because I love every part of you. Even the parts you don’t particularly like yourself.”
You continue to leave wet kisses along his clavicles and throat making him moan quietly.
“Lay back for me, baby” you say, and he allows you to push him onto his back.
Your body follows him down prone on the bed, allowing your comforting weight to settle atop him and press him into the sheets. Linking your hands, you bring them up to rest by his head. You reconnect and kiss him senseless, lips and tongues moving seamlessly in a dance well practiced over the years. You continue until he’s whining, until you feel him thickening further in his pants. 
Lips descending downwards, you continue a fiery trail along his jawline, hands caressing his neck and chest to maximize his pleasure. Evidence of your love blooms down his neck as you continue a path towards his chest. Perched on his lap, you grind against him as you take a nipple between your lips and begin to suck.
“A-ahh fuck”, Jungkook pants as your lips wrap more securely around his pebbled bud, tongue flicking against him. Your other hand rakes along his other pectoral, thumb catching along its twin and you rub circles over him with your thumb. His cock, which had begun to throb when you love bombed him, is now fattening with arousal.                                                                                
You trail your lips across his chest making sure to provide equal attention to his sensitive buds. Dusky and shining with your saliva, you continue down his abs, licking the contours of his hard earned muscles. Jungkook continues to quietly moan at the sensation of your soft, warm mouth slowly moving south along his body.
Sitting up a bit from his supine figure, you tug down at the band of his sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” you ask, slipping your fingertips into the waistline of his bottoms. He nods his consent and you push them down as he lifts his hips up, effectively removing Jungkook’s remaining piece of clothing. 
As you move to stand from his lap, he immediately sits up as if pained by any distance between your bodies. You give him one last, sweet kiss on the mouth before settling down on your knees between his spread legs. His cock, perfectly framed between powerful thighs, is hardening rapidly and attempting to defy gravity as it bobs in the space between your bodies. Licking your lips at the sight of his leaking length, you settle on the floor and reach for his base.
“Hold on” he says, stopping you to reach across the bed and pulling his pillow from under the covers offering it to you for comfort. Your heart swells at his consideration and you accept it gratefully. You place it under your knees for an added cushion and make yourself comfortable on the ground.
Maintaining eye contact you run your hands up and down his thick thighs letting your fingernails lightly scratch along the sensitive skin there. Each pass brings you closer and closer to his cock, subtly twitching in eagerness to feel you wrapped around him. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you wrap a hand around his base and feel him harden fully in your grasp. Bringing your lips down to his weeping tip, you run your tongue up and down his slit, then slowly in a circle around the engorged head leaving a ring of precum and saliva in your wake.
“F-uuuck” Jungkook keens as you continue to tease him with your tongue. “Please. More, please.” 
Your lips immediately close around him, surrounding his throbbing cock with the wet heat of your mouth and begin to suck tasting his musky flavor. Popping off, you run your tongue up and down to spread moisture along his shaft; your hand will have to cover what your throat cannot take. He is not profoundly large, but he is more than thick and long enough to satisfy you.
Unable to mask his desire, Jungkook pants as your mouth works up and down his rigid length. You take him as deep as you can tolerate, gagging lightly when you feel him slide down the back of your throat with each pass. The hand not grasping his base is rubbing soothing circles along his hip and inner thigh, amplifying his pleasure.
“Mmm yeah, you’re doing so g-good,” he groans as you continue bobbing, hand furiously pumping whatever won’t fit in your mouth. He weaves his fingers into your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into the depths of your throat. Eyes starting to water, his other hand wipes at the tears in your lash line as you continue to enthusiastically blow him. 
Jungkook’s volume steadily increases along with the pace of your mouth and hand as you work over his cock. You continue to suck him off sending white hot pleasure through his veins. “Oh shit- shit.” Jungkook stops you as his impending orgasm begins to crest. “You need to stop, or I’ll cum” he breathes out. Though your mouth is no longer on him, your hand continues to slowly jerk him off.
“Aren’t you ovulating?” he tries to confirm with you. “I need to put it in you,” he insists, teeth clenching together as your hand glides up and down the full length of his dick twisting your wrist with each upstroke.
“Tonight is all about you - about us,” you shake your head. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?” you ask as your other hand travels from his hip to cup and gently fondle his balls.
He whimpers in pleasure as you continue to stroke him.
“Do you want to cum in my mouth tonight, baby?” you purr. No longer able to formulate a coherent sentence, he nods his head aggressively.
“Good boy,” you tease with a smirk. Your mouth returns to his cock and joins the hand pumping his shaft. Years of learning each other’s bodies has taught you the tell tale signs of your husband’s orgasms and you can tell he’s close. Very close.
Hollowing out your cheeks, you apply the suction you know he has never been able to resist. You’re determined to suck his soul from his body, gripping him firmly as you furiously work his throbbing length exactly the way you know he likes. Your mouth focuses on his mushroomed head, lips sealed around the tip and tongue lapping against the sensitive frenulum.
Jungkook desperately tries to stave off his release to linger in the wet heat of your mouth. It’s been a while since he’s allowed himself to finish down your throat and he wants to savor it. “Ah, I’m so mad that you’re so good at this” he groans, earning a muted giggle from you. Stuffed full of cock, the vibration sends a thrill up his spine. 
You know Jungkook’s cumming before he can warn you. It starts with a subtle lifting of his balls as they prepare to empty into your eager mouth. Eyes squeezed shut and moaning wantonly, he chants your name over and over as he begins to orgasm. You continue your determined ministrations as his shaft pulses in your grasp.
“Hmmmph- ahh, fuck yes! Oh fuck, so good,” Jungkook whimpers as ribbons of cum burst across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. You quickly swallow his load as he erupts into your mouth. You continue stroking and sucking Jungkook through his high, helping him ride it out until he gently pushes you away when he feels the burn of overstimulation. 
“Good?” you smile up at him and let go of his wilting length to lick at a stray bit of cum from your thumb. You wipe off the remaining spit on your shirt.
“Amazing,” he replies, smiling dazedly down at you. 
You allow him to pull you from the ground up onto the bed with him, laughing when your knees pop loudly in the quiet of the room as you stand up. Giggling, you curl up against his side listening as his heart rate evens out to a steady rhythm. You can't be bothered to care that his skin is tacky with a light sheen of sweat.
You lay against Jungkook for a few minutes as he basks in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm. He pulls you tighter against him, tipping his head down to kiss you for a blow job-well-done. Tasting the residual flavor of his cum, he groans against your mouth, enjoying your combined essences.
Jungkook rolls you onto your back, continuing to kiss you with fervor. The sound of lips and tongues clashing fill the room as the two of you enjoy the simple intimacy of being together. Reaching down, Jungkook spreads your legs apart to make room for him to lay comfortably between your thighs. 
“W-what,” you’re breathless as his lips leave your mouth and travel down your jaw.
“Mmm,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s your turn now.” He nibbles along your sensitive neck, goosebumps rising with his light touch. 
You run your fingertips up and down his back, scratching along the peaks and valleys of his spine. Leaning his weight into one arm, he uses the other to push up the hem of your shirt, ghosting a hand under to cup a breast. He palms greedily at the flesh as he continues to kiss you passionately. 
“I wanna see you,” says Jungkook. “Can I take this off?” he gestures at his cut-off tank you’re still wearing.
Criss crossing your arms and pulling up by its hem, you bare your chest to Jungkook’s eager eyes. His gaze drops down to admire the bouncing of your tits as you wiggle out of your top. Propping up on his elbows, he ducks his head to capture a nipple between his petal soft lips, coaxing it into a stiff peak with gentle suction and the lapping of his tongue. When your back arches in pleasure and you clutch his head to you, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his arms under you to hold you securely to his mouth as he worships at the altar of your breasts. 
“Baby, yes, you’re so good to me” you pant, feeling your arousal generously leak from your core.
Eyes closed and relishing in the sensation, you whimper, sending one hand to grip his long, dark locks and feeling the prickle of his freshly trimmed undercut. With a hand in his mane, you feel him unlatch from your tight bud to plant wet open mouthed kisses around your areola and across your chest. He stops over your heart, lips lingering to feel the rapid thumping rattle your sternum.
Generous with his attention, he moves to nip and suck around your neglected breast. He slurps your nipple into his eager mouth, tongue swirling to tease it to a hard peak. Jungkook's diligent stimulation of your breasts sends sparks of pleasure down to your cunt as he continues to lap at your pebbled beds.
“More, please,” you whine, bucking your hips upwards, hoping to encourage him to touch you where you need it most. 
Hearing you beg so prettily for him slowly coaxes life back into his spent cock. He feels himself begin to swell again against your thigh. Pleasuring you has always been incredibly arousing for him, and he knows with a several more minutes of rest, he’ll be ready to fuck you senseless.
Pulling an arm out from under your torso, Jungkook leans his weight onto one elbow and sends his free hand down between your legs to the treasure between your thighs. His lips pursed around your nipple continues to suckle and tease you into a frenzy. 
The room fills with sounds of your mewling and his blunted goans as he plays the familiar song of your body. His hands brush against the soft black lace as he spreads your legs, positioning you to his liking. 
“So wet,” Jungkook acknowledges with a quirk of his lips, fingers swiping along your slit to feel for your arousal. Bringing those fingers towards his mouth, he sucks your essence from his fingertips, savoring your taste. Jungkook switches nipples again and his fingers, now slickened with his saliva, return to the warmth of your pussy. 
You gasp when you feel him caress at your opening before sinking a lone finger into your tight, wet heat. Jungkook can’t help but grunt as he feels your walls clench around him, excited to feel it around his growing erection. 
“It’s all for you baby,” you praise him, carding your fingers through his fringe and pushing his hair back to get a better view of him suckling at your breast. Your breath hitches when you feel him add a second finger, stretching you open with his long, tattooed digits and curling them against your g-spot.
“Mmm yes- ahh. Fuck me with them,” you plead. Lacking the power to drive you towards an orgasm, he teases you with sensual strokes until your cunt drips down your ass and his fingers come out sparkling with your arousal. Completely at his mercy, you feel Jungkook slow down further. Brat. 
You’re writhing beneath him as he continues his personal brand of slow, pleasurable torture. His lips release your tender nipple and return to your open mouth attempting to swallow your moans. 
“Fuck me harder, please, I need it harder.” you beg, hoping to convince him to finger you to completion. Despite your request, Jungkook stops thrusting completely, opting to curl his fingers and rubbing softly against your g-spot while grinding the heel of his palm just off center from your pulsing clit. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his gaze on your visage committing your whining and fucked out expression to memory. You’re being uncharacteristically pliant for him tonight- a change that he is very much enjoying. He files it under ‘spank bank material’ for when Beyond ultimately goes back on tour. 
“Please, baby, make me cum. I’m so close.” you try one last time. You’re panting and desperate for release. 
“You’re not cumming tonight unless it’s on my cock,” he grits out. His fingers stay hooked inside you, caressing at your sensitive front wall. Jungkook’s mouth returns to suckling at your pebbled bud and he slowly fucks you open with his fingers. Your cunt quivers and leaks with your arousal, but without the thrusting or clitoral stimulation, you won’t be cumming anytime soon.
“But how-” you glance down, not expecting his nearly fully erect cock. Pleasuring you had sparked his arousal again, the sounds of your approval and sight of your wet pussy glistening with desire has encouraged him back towards full mast. Licking your lips at his growing girth, you push his hand from your core to collect some of your personal lubricant. You wrap your slicked up fingers around his length jacking him to his full potential. 
“Uunffff- ok, ok. Hold on,” he says, reaching out into your bedside table for lube. You hear Jungkook uncap the small bottle and are eager to feel him deep inside you. Quickly flipping onto your front, you prop yourself on your elbows and knees, presenting your husband with your sloppy, swollen cunt- a soundless request imploring him to fuck you from behind.
“I want to feel you deep,” you reason and unable to resist you, Jungkook agrees. Eyes glued to the way your crotchless panties have dampened with your cream, he spreads a generous glob of lube up and down his cock. He wipes the remainder against your labia and rubs some onto your clit making you mewl out for him. He wipes off the residue on your sheets. You’ll have to wash that later.
Taking a moment to admire his view, his hands caress over your hips and ass. “Are you ready?” Jungkook asks, always so considerate of your needs. 
You nod and delirious with lust, you reach between your legs for him, sliding his bulbous tip up and down your slit before pushing your hips back to take him into your awaiting passage. Jungkook descends down creating a canopy with his body, sheltering you with the physical representation of his love. Jungkook’s hands find yours, lacing his calloused palms to the backs of your hands, fingers interlocking. With light pressure, he encourages you to lay your front down onto the bed. He nudges your knees further apart, propping you ass high in the air. 
Positioned to his liking, he takes his first stroke into your eager cunt. Despite his diligent fingering, the fit is still tight, and you feel the initial pinch as he breaches you. You both release matching moans upon your coupling, and you already know you won’t last long after enduring Jungkook's extensive foreplay. He sets a slow pace plunging deep into your velvet heat. 
“Harder, Kook, I’m already so close.” you puff into the sheets, turning your head as far as possible to watch your lover as he takes you from behind. “Please,” you rasp.
No longer denying your release, Jungkook thrusts faster, snapping his hips powerfully with the intent of getting you off. His cock hammers into you and you’re helpless underneath him to do anything but take it. He can already feel you tightening around him deliciously and lets go of one hand to reach down between your legs. With two fingers, Jungkook rubs tight circles around your clit while he continues to drill into your cunt which is just what you need to finally cum.
“Oh, fuck! Ah- ah-ah, Jungkook!” you chant. Your hands furiously grip the sheets trying to hold onto something to ground you as your high threatens to pull you under. Legs quaking and pussy fluttering around him, your walls contract rhythmically around his turgid length as he continues to rigorously fuck you through your orgasm. 
Jungkook whines at the sensations gripping his cock, but pulls out of your spent heat to spare you from the sting of overstimulation. Any other night, he may have considered fucking you into a second orgasm, but tonight feels different. Tonight, he wants to make ardent love to you.
Without Jungkook’s strong frame to hold you up, you crumble limp against the bed. Your ears ring with the aftermath of a good round of fucking. It takes a second to register that he is speaking.
“Can you take more?” he asks. Confused, you look down and see that he’s still painfully hard. Oh. His erection is glossy with your juices, shining as it bobs between his well-muscled thighs. 
“Fuck- yes,” you quickly consent to him. 
Jungkook swiftly rolls you onto your back again and sits up on his knees between your spread thighs. “I love you in these, but I want to see all of you,” he rasps, tugging at your ruined panties and pulling them off while his eyes stay glued on your saturated folds. Climbing back up your body, he spreads your legs wider and leans forward bringing his cock to your core. You look down to watch him steadily thrust his length against your slit, bumping against your clit on the upstrokes. 
Wanting to draw out his teasing, he grips his slickened base and slaps his dick against your slippery folds. Each wet smack sends waves of electric pleasure through your system as Jungkook works you back up. “Just fuck me, baby. I’m ready.” you insist. Your gaze trails up, meeting his heated stare. 
“I want you to keep your eyes on me when I make love to you,” he says, voice dropping an octave. When you nod in understanding, he catches his tip against your entrance and pushes back into your ripe, warm cunt. Your legs immediately wrap around his trim waist pulling him closer and encouraging him to brace the weight of his upper body on his hands. Your ankles interlock against the base of his spine to bring him deeper.
Jungkook starts with long, slow strokes, pulling nearly all the way out of you before feeding his cock back into your sopping pussy. Going slow enough for you to feel every ridge of his throbbing length, he impales you over and over.
Your back arches in pleasure and you have to fight to keep your eyes open for him. Wanting him closer, you greedily reach your hands up to pull him down closer to you, forcing him to drop to his elbows as he continues to give it to you slow and deep. 
Jungkook braces on his forearms and cradles your head. He tilts your chin up to align with his intense gaze as he continues to plow into you. Brow furrowed and eyes locked, your husband watches your dazed and needy expressions while his body and mind make love to yours. 
He’s always so good to you. Devoted and adoring. You’re suddenly struck with the reminder that this beautiful man is yours. Always has been. Always will be. And tonight is a good time to remind Jungkook how deeply you love him. A fear of commitment used to hold you back, but he peeled back your layers and showed you that love didn’t have to hurt. You haven’t been afraid since. Jungkook has the whole of your heart. 
“How did I get so lucky?” you say, reaching up to caress his jaw as he continues to thrust into your depths. “I’m sorry I lost sight of us,” you stutter trying to sound coherent as your husband diligently sinks his thickness into you again and again. “I never meant for you to feel-”
“- I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better, I just- I’m working on it,” Jungkook cuts you off. He knows this is a two way street. 
“We don’t have to try anymore if you aren’t ready. Pull out and I’ll suck you off again” you offer. If Jungkook isn’t 100% in, you aren’t either. 
“No, I want it. I’m ready for our love to create something beautiful and for everything that comes after that.”
You moan, eyes closing briefly, as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace. The increase in friction against your walls is quickly bringing you towards the edge again. An unexpectedly fierce pump of his hips has you gasping in delight.
“I said-,” Jungkook grunts with another sharp thrust, “-eyes on me, baby.” You pry your eyes open, surprised by his display of dominance and try not to squeal.
Jungkook reaches one hand down to tilt your pelvis back further and you lock your legs up higher on his frame allowing him to shove a pillow under your ass. The new position brings your clit directly under his pubic bone. When he slams back down to stuff you full, he grinds deliciously against you, making you nearly scream out in ecstasy.
“I love you,” you whisper in earnest. “I love you so much,” you moan as Jungkook begins to pound you into the sheets. You’re both quickly unraveling, approaching another high, bodies tingling with impending release. When your thighs begin shaking around him for the second time tonight, he picks up the pace filling the room with a symphony of your euphoria. 
Breaking your eye contact briefly, Jungkook looks down at the juncture of your connection and is enthralled by the visual- his cock coming out foamy with your cream and slamming back into your weeping pussy. Groaning, he suddenly feels the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back as you’re overcome with pleasure. 
“Come on, babe. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jungkook grunts, urging you towards completion. With your hips canted deliciously, he continues to ram directly against your g-spot. 
“Oh fuck, it’s so good. I’m so close,” you babble, feeling Jungkook push deeper against you to stimulate your pulsing clit. Hands clutching your husband and thighs trembling, your eyes slip closed as you finally succumb to his endeavors. You cum with a silent scream, head tilted back and throat exposed as your walls spasm uncontrollably. The wild contracting of your pussy squeezing his cock triggers Jungkook’s own release. His length throbs desperately within your walls as you coax him towards his end. 
“Ahh, I- I’m holy shit- I’m cumming, too” Jungkook whines as he climaxes with breathy whimpers, exploding as he fills you with streams of his ejaculate. He thrusts as deep as he can get while his length continues to spurt inside you, shallowly rutting to ride out his high. 
Panting, he collapses his weight into your waiting arms. “Oof,” you grunt as you feel your husband’s sweaty and spent body pin you against the bed. You let him rest against you for a while, content to feel the warm fullness of his cock and spunk nestled deep inside you.
“Can I stay inside?” he asks shyly. “I just wanna hold you.” You smile and Jungkook holds you close and carefully rolls under you so you can comfortably lay against him. With his arms wound around your waist and your thighs spread wide with his dick sheathed inside you, he ensures maximal skin contact.
Seeing his blissed out face, you giggle as the two of you revel in your post-coital afterglow. His spent length slowly softens letting some of his cum leak from your used hole onto him and the sheets below. You’re definitely going to have to wash these. 
Your fingers find their way into his hair, scratching along his scalp and pushing back his long locks to expose the sexy undercut hiding beneath. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, but he still leans his face forward knowing you’ll meet his lips with your own. The two of you make out for a little longer, savoring the intimacy shared in your little bubble. 
Jungkook clings to you, preening at your gentle caress and basking in his favorite form of aftercare. Your cunt is runny with lube and your combined releases, but you’re too content to lay with Jungkook in your arms to clean up just yet. You lie wrapped around each other for a few more minutes, mindlessly kissing at his face and neck, whispering praises for his performance.
It’s quiet for a long moment, and assuming he must have fallen asleep as he tends to do after a vigorous round of love making, you attempt to unwind your limbs from his. Grumbling, he tightens his hold around you, preventing you from getting far. 
“Jungkook,” you warn with a laugh, “I have to get cleaned up.”
“Mmm not yet, hold me a little longer” he requests as he burrows deeper in your embrace.
Sighing, you relent, slowly dozing off with your husband in your arms. 
_______________________________________________
When you wake, you find that you've shifted in your slumber. Jungkook's chest is plastered to your back and he has an arm slung over your waist with a hand curled around one of your tits. The mess between your legs has dried making you cringe when you move to get up. Leaving Jungkook who is slowly stirring, you go to the bathroom to shower. 
You step under the spray and let the warm water relax you while you clean off the sweat and unholy mix of bodily fluids from between your thighs. You hum along to the new Beyond the Scene single and sing some of the chorus that you can remember. You exit the shower, wrapping a towel securely around you and return to rouse your sleeping husband.
You find that Jungkook is already awake and sitting against the headboard. “You know, I hope our kid doesn’t inherit your singing voice,” Jungkook cackles, cutting through the silence. 
"Why you-," you gasp, tackling him down into the sheets and laughing along with him. You pin him down and pinch at his nipple in retaliation. It’s not long before he’s pulling the towel from your body and rolling you under him to latch his mouth to your cunt. Before the night is over, he delivers another two orgasms and a fresh load. After all, practice makes perfect.
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Sugar, Sugar 15
[FIFTEEN/END]
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MASTERLIST
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve
This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
(This chapter: violence, threats, fear  :O)
Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?
This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.
Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.
Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya
🍭 🍭 🍭
The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.
It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?
You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.
You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.
That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.
Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention. 
As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.
It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.
Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.
“Sasha?” you gasped.
“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”
“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.
“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.
“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”
“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’
“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.
“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”
“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”
“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”
“And go where?”
He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.
“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.
“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.
“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.
“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”
“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”
“Am I trading him for you?”
“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”
“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”
“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”
“I have nothing,” you quavered.
“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”
“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”
“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”
You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.
“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”
He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.
You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.
He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.
He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.
🍭
The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.
When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.
“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”
Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.
“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”
Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”
“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.
“But… Sasha, I don’t--”
“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”
You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”
“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”
“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”
“I…” you shook your head speechless.
“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”
You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.
“How did you know?” you sobbed.
“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”
“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”
“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”
🍭
It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes. 
You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.
He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.
You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.
“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”
“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”
“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”
“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”
“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”
You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .
As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door
The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.
It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.
“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”
You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”
“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”
“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.
“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”
“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”
“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”
Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”
“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”
He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.
As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger. 
“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”
“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”
“Calm down,” Sasha warned.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”
“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”
Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”
You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”
“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”
“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator. 
As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”
“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”
He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.
“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”
“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.
“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”
“Police reports?” you blinked.
“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”
“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”
🍭
‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.
Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.
That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.
It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.
He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.
When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.
Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.
Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.
Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me. 
The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’
The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.
It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.
You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.
You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.
“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”
“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”
“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”
“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”
“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”
“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.
“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”
“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”
“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.
“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”
“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”
You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”
“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”
“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”
“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”
“See?” you taunted, “geek.”
You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.
You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.
You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.
You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.
“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”
“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”
“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”
“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”
END (or is it?)
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kywaslost · 3 years
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How they help with sensory overload/panic/anxiety attack
Requests are open!
Warnings: mentions of sensory overload and panic/anxiety attacks, abuse
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 All of class 1-A were sitting in the common room, some watching a movie while others were talking loudly. Normally you would be joining in the chatter, talking about the day’s training and classes, even helping todoroki and some of the other students make dinner. But today was different. Your anxiety was through the roof. The past few days have been filled with tests and exams from all of your teachers. It was nearing finals as well, causing you to lose sleep so you could study. It didn’t help that you hadn’t slept in two days due to stress and anxiety and that you had to do one-on-one battles with your classmates that morning. 
Right now you were silently following your boyfriend Bakugou around. He was going to go get a drink, getting up from his seat next to the bakusquad. You stood up and followed him, walking really close to his back.
“Hey,” Bakugou barked, not knowing it was you that was behind him. When he saw a glimpse of your hair and felt your head lean against his back, his face softened. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized under his breath. He turned and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “If you wanted a drink you could have just said so, I would get you one.” You leaned into his side and walked with him. The lights were getting really bright. The song changed, blasting in your opinion. You buried your head in Bakugou’s side to try to at least muffle the sound a little. He poured two cups of water and handed one to you. The two of you sat back down and you cuddled really close to the blond headed boy. After a few minutes you buried your head closer to him. Bakugou noticed and grew agitated.
“Oi,” he growled quietly. “What is your problem? Are you--” he noticed how you flinched away from his growing voice. He also noticed how you covered your eyes from the dim lights in the room. He sighed, setting down his cup of water. He pulled you to his lap and pressed your head to his chest. He covered your ears and shielded your eyes. The two of you stayed that way until Bakugou carried you to your dorm. He stayed with you until you fell asleep.
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You had a lot in common with your father Shota Aizawa. You were quiet, always tired, but also very smart. You didn’t like loud noises and they scared you to be honest. If you didn’t get away from the noise or it didn’t go away you’d start to shake. The reason was understandable, of course. It was simple. When you were only six months old your mother was killed in a villian attack. As Aizawa fought the villain that killed your mother Present Mic saved you and got you out of harm’s way. Both you and Aizawa were devastated. As a fact, you were selectively mute. You would only talk to your father and Uncle Mic. That was far as it went. 
Your friends never understood why you never spoke a word. You were in class 1-A under your father’s teaching. You had one friend going into that class and it was Izuku Midoriya. He was with you ever since the very first day of school when you were kids. He understood that you didn’t speak and would stand up for you when the other kids in class 1-A kept trying to get you to talk. It was several months into the school year and you were in Present Mic’s English class. He was naturally a loud person due to his quirk but he always tried to tone it down when you were in his class.
There were two doors in Present Mic’s classroom; one in the front and one in the back. You just so happened to sit next to the one in the back. At the moment Mic wasn’t really teaching. There were only ten minutes left of class and Mic decided to let the rest of the time be spent however the students wished. Right now the bakusquad were goofing off and laughing. The room was starting to get loud. You looked around the room, taking in all of the noise.
“Hey mute mouth!” You turned your head to the source of the yelling. Bakugou was sitting on top of a desk, staring at you. Your body started to tremble, becoming afraid of all the noise in the room. You slowly turned your head to the side as if asking him what he wanted. “What in the world is wrong with you?” By this time you could barely catch your breath. Your trembling got worse. Now the room was silent as everyone was looking at you.
“Y/N?” Present Mic called from his desk. “Are you alright?” You didn’t even spare him a look when you raced out the back door of the classroom and down the hall. It was empty, quiet since classes were still in session. You slowly slid down a wall to the floor, curling into a ball. You shook terribly, starting to scream and cry. 
“Hey, kiddo, whoa you’re ok,” a voice said from beside you. “It’s me, Uncle Mic. Do you mind if I touch you?” You continued to scream as doors opened and teachers poked their heads out into the hall. When they saw Mic shooing them into their rooms with his hands they closed their doors and continued on with their classes. Mic slowly wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. He pulled you to him and rested his chin on your head.
“It’s ok kiddo,” he whispered uncharacteristically. “Just breathe ok?” He sat there with you until your screaming ceased and your breath was steady again. He smiled, “Hey, there we go!”
“Too loud,” you muttered. “Way too loud.”
“I know little eraser. I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep it quiet next time.”
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When Kirishima first met Bakugou he never would have thought he would be dating the blonde boy’s sister. Your quirk was just like Bakugou’s only you shot ice explosions instead of fire and instead of sweating nitroglycerin, frost would coat your skin in very thin layers.
Kirishima always offered to help you with your quirk. While you could practice your attacks Kirishima could test his hardening skills. Another thing Kirishima did was understand you had bad anxiety. You never told your brother but when he was kidnapped, you were petrified. You loved him as much as you never admitted and you were afraid you wouldn’t see him again. That’s what made you transfer to the hero course at UA. You had the chance to keep an eye on your brother and learn how to save people from the very thing that happened to Bakugou.
You and Kirishima had just gotten back to the dorms from a sparring practice you two held after school. Once you had showered and eaten you two were in his room, relaxing. He was sitting at the desk in his room, scrolling through the internet on his computer. You were laying on his bed asleep. He looked across the room and smiled softly when he noticed you were cuddled up with one of his pillows. You were hidden by his blankets and warm in his hoodie as your face was buried in the pillow.
That’s adorable, Kirishima thought as he pulled his phone out and took a picture before he turned back to his computer. He sat in silence for a few moments when he heard very soft whimpering coming from his bed. It was almost inaudible, it was so silent.
“Baby?” the red head called softly. He turned back around to face the bed again, trying to see where the noise was coming from. He saw your sleeping form twitching from time to time, face plastered with looks of fear. Kirishima worriedly stood from his seat across the room and made his way over to you quickly. He sat beside you and rested his hand on your shoulder, turning you on your back. You continued to whimper and started to mutter.
“No,” you whispered. Kirishima pulled your back to his chest and held you there with one arm as his other hand ran though your hair calmingly. 
“Hey,” he whispered. “It’s ok. You need to wake up ok?” Kirishima had to tighten his grip as you started to thrash around harder. You started to cry in your sleep, gripping the arm that was wrapped around you tightly. Kirishima continued to smooth your hair and whisper to you to wake you up. 
You gasped through tears as your eyes shot open. Kirishma shushed you quietly, still attempting to calm you down. “Hey, it’s ok little rock. You’re alright.” You struggled to catch your breath, still shaking.
“Kiri!” you gasped, trying to pry the arms away from you. Kirishima picked up on what was going on and let go, sliding off the bed and kneeling so he was eye level with you.
“Oh,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it would get this bad.” You sat up and pulled at the collar of Kirishima’s hoodie. He could see the panic in your eyes. “Hey, it’s ok. Do you want me to help you take that off?” You didn’t hear him, still pulling the fabric from your body. “I’m going to take that off ok?” Kirishima gently pulled the fabric from your hands and over your head, leaving you in your black t-shirt you had been wearing. 
“Let’s calm your breathing little rock,” he said with a soft smile. “Can I hold your hand?” You nodded frantically as he gently took your right hand in his. He placed it to his chest. “Feel that? Feel my breathing? Try to match me ok?” It took ten minutes for him to get your breathing to slow. 
“Is it ok if I hold you?” You nodded again as the red-head slid in beside you and pulled you into his lap. “You’re still shaking,” he muttered. “Do you want some water?” He pulled a bottle off the nightstand, opening it and handing it to you. He pressed it to your lips and tilted it so the cool liquid fell through your lips. You took a few sips before pulling away. You took a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around Kirishama’s waist. Kirishima pulled you close and held you tight until your shaking ceased.
“Do you feel any better?” the boy whispered quietly.
“Hmhm,” you hummed and buried your head in his chest. “Thank you Kiri.” You leaned up and pecked his lips. “I’m sorry.” Kirishima frowned, pulling your face to look at him.
“Don’t be sorry love,” he said softly. “You can’t control these things. I’d do this 100x over if it meant you would be ok in the end. I hope I don’t have to, because this isn’t good for you, but I will if I have to.” A tear fell from your eyes and Kirishima wiped it away. “Can you tell me what triggered this?” You looked away.
“I dreamed of Katsuki being kidnapped again.” Your voice was quiet. Kirishima rested his chin on your head.
“I’m sorry baby.”
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 Deku was the most observant person you had ever met. He noticed everything within a matter of seconds. This meant a lot to you. You were quiet by nature, only ever really talking to people you were close to. This included Midoriya, Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima. You would exchange a few words with the rest of your classmates but that was as far as it went. Izuku always noticed when you were getting too anxious or tired. He knew how to calm you down and make you feel comfortable. 
This was one of those days he had to use that knowledge. You were having a day with Todoroki, Iida, Ochako, and Deku. The five of you were walking through the mall, window shopping. It was more of a friends day than a shopping day since all you all did was talk with each other. You all were eating lunch in one of the many dining areas in the mall. It was nearing the busiest part of the day as the crowds of people grew and the noise got louder. This didn’t get past without you noticing. You started to flinch whenever a particularly loud noise came from the crowd.
“Are you alright Y/N?” Todoroki asked over his bowl of cold soba. “You look frightened.” 
You shook your head and said quietly, “I’m fine.” Deku noticed this. He took your arm gently and pulled you to your feet.
“We’ll be back,” he said quickly, pulling you away from your friends and to a quiet, secluded part of the mall. He sat you down and sat beside you, wrapping his arms around you. “Hey,” he whispered quietly. “It’s too loud isn’t it?” You nodded as the boy pulled your head to his chest to try and hide you from the noise and light.
“The lights are too bright,” you whispered. Deku hid your face more.
“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let Ochako drag you out here.”
“It’s fine.” The two of you sat like that until you calmed down. “Let’s go find the others,” you said as you sat up. As you made your way back to the table, Todoroki bumped into you.
“Oh, there you are,” he said as he steadied you. “Are you alright?” You nodded.
“I’m alright,” you whispered. “It was just getting too loud and bright.” The boy nodded as he walked with you and Deku, each of the boys having an arm wrapped around you.
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When Shinsou started UA, he swore he wasn’t there to make friends. He kept true to his word, or at least until you showed up. You were accepted later in the year since the school sent you an invite once they noticed you would do well in their school. You were in class 1-C. Your quirk would do well in that class, but most of your classmates didn’t agree.
Your quirk was mental drawing, meaning you could draw what the people around you were thinking. Most of the kids in your class didn’t like your quirk; they thought it wasn’t fitting for a hero. This caused you to keep to yourself and not talk to anyone. This only added on to the torture.
You were sitting at your desk before English class as you doodled on a piece of scrap paper. You sat in the back corner of the class by the window. This way, you got the best lighting and the best view. You stared at your paper absentmindedly as your pencil slid across the paper. It started with small lines here and there but then developed into the shape of a person. You were working on the other eye when a group of classmates caught your attention.
“Hey mute girl!” someone called out. You looked up with shy eyes, hiding your face behind your hair. You turned your head to the side slightly, acknowledging their presence. There were three of them, all towering over your desk. The one in the middle ripped the paper from beneath your hand.
“Hey!” you said, reaching for the drawing. “Give that back!” The men laughed, hovering over the paper and pointing at certain spots, laughing even harder.
“This is your quirk?!” The one on your right laughed. “Seriously, this sucks.”
The one on the left spoke,” You’re never going to make it big here.”
“What’s your problem?” spat a voice from behind the boys. The three turned around.
“You!” they scoffed, laughing. Immediately, they fell silent and stiff. You looked around them to see Shinsou Hitoshi staring at them.
“Give the girl her paper back,” commanded the man. The boy with your drawing placed it back down on your desk. “Apologize.”
“We’re sorry,” the three said in a monotone voice. The man with purple hair smirked. “Now act like the chickens you are until class starts.” The three boys started clucking, running around the classroom. You giggled, watching them embarrass themselves. The man controlling them sat down at the desk beside you. 
“Thank you,” you whispered to the man.
“Don’t mention it,” he grumbled. “They deserve everything they get.”
“You’re name’s Shinsou Hitoshi, right?” you asked quietly. He nodded, taken aback. He didn’t think you knew who he was.
“Yeah, and you’re Y/N? The new one?” he asked. You nodded.
“Yeah.” You sat in silence before you decided to speak again. “How did you manage to get into a class like this?” you asked. “You have the perfect quirk to be a-”
“Villain?” Shinsou spat. “You know what, I thought you were different. I guess not.”
You were confused. “No,” you stated. “I was going to say you had the quirk of a hero. You could do great things with a quirk like yours.” Shinsou gave you an amazed look.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He flashed you a small smile and class started.
You slowly packed up your belongings in the locker room. You just finished your last class of the day, gym. You were exhausted, ready to grab a cup of coffee and head back to your dorm. You grabbed your backpack and walked out of the locker room.
“Hey wait up!” You turned around to see Shinsou running up to you. He slowed down to match your pace. “Hey,” he smiled. You grinned slightly.
“Hello Shinsou. What’s got you in a good mood? You usually don’t talk to others,” you pointed out. Shinsou shrugged.
“You’re not like the others. So, got any plans?” you shook your head.
“Not really. I was going to go get a coffee then head back to the dorm to study for our upcoming exam,” you answered
“Mind if I join you?” Shinsou asked. Your smile brightened.
“Sure!”
The two of you sat in your dorm room, studying. Shinsou asked if he could join you in studying and you agreed. Right now he was reading through a textbook while you were flipping through your notes.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Shinsou started, catching your attention, “Can I see the drawing you were working on earlier?” You nodded shyly, leaning over to grab your sketchbook. You pulled out the loose piece of paper and handed it to the boy. He looked at it, amazed. “This is amazing!”
Your cheeks reddened as you hid behind your hair again. “Thanks,” you muttered. “It’s my quirk; I can draw what someone nearby is thinking,” you explained. Shinsou handed the paper back to you, accept his hand hovered near your head. He made eye contact with you before he brushed the hair from your face and behind your ear. He smiled before returning to his book. Silence fell between the two of you once again.
You and Shinsou became friends quickly. He’d walk with you back to the dorms after school and would even train with you from time to time. He understood that you were shy so he didn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to. Month passed and it was time for break. You had invited Shinsou to come over one night to watch a movie, seeing as though you thought both your parents were working. He showed up in a pair of grey sweatpants and a purple hoodie. His hood was up when you answered the knock at the door. 
“H-Hey Shinsou,” you greeted quietly. He smiled.
“Hello Y/N, may I come in?” you nodded, letting him in and leading him to the couch. There were several warm, fluffy blankets and pillows strewn over the couch.
“What movie would you like to watch?” you asked the boy. “I have so many dvd’s, Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ so I’m pretty sure I could find almost everything.” Shinsou shrugged as he plopped down on the couch, pulling a few blankets out from under him. You started pacing, fumbling with the remote and flipping through the apps on the TV. You also started to ramble and list off the movies you noticed.
“Y/N-” Shinsou started with a small chuckle. “Y--Y/N.” He gently took your hand and pulled you down to sit beside him. Your face reddened as you returned the small smile Shinsou was giving you. “You need to calm down,” he laughed. “I know you're anxious and I understand. Why don’t you go get something to drink and I’ll look for a movie, ok?” You nodded as he smiled. He gently took the remote from your hand and you went to get a glass of water.
Shinsou could hear a door open and close from the back of the house. “Y/N?” he called out quietly. There was the sound of glass shattering and shouts coming from the kitchen. The boy ran as fast as he could to where you were. “Y/N!” He slid into the kitchen to see a man towering over your trembling body. Blood dripped from cuts on your head and glass shards surrounded you. The man was yelling at you, or at least he was until he saw Shinsou standing in the doorway. The man sneered back down at you, raising an arm above his head. In the blink of an eye Shinsou was standing over you, forcing your father’s hand away from you. 
“What are you doing!?” Shinsou screamed angrily.
“Get out!” your father yelled. Shinsou activated his quirk.
“Leave,” he seethed. “Leave, and don’t come back.” The man turned and walked out of the door he had come through. Once Shinsou was sure the man was away from you, he turned around and dropped down by your side. You were hyperventilating and crying, freaked out. “Hey,” the boy said calmly. He attempted to reach out towards you but you flinched away from him. He frowned. “Ok,” he nodded. “I won’t touch you. Just try to calm down, ok?”
You continued to gasp, taking in much more air than you needed. “Look at me.” You looked up to see dark purple eyes filled with concern and kindness. He smiled softly when you listened. “There we go, that’s great. Now breathe with me, ok?” He took huge deep breaths, still looking into your eyes. After a few breaths you started to breath with him. You reached a hand out to him and he took it, squeezing it gently. You finally calmed down enough to speak.
“You should go,” you breathed, trying to stand. Shinsou pulled you back down so you were now sitting on his lap. He hugged you close to his chest before examining your head.
“I’m not leaving,” he stated. “And you’re bleeding. We need to get you looked at.” You started to panic again, shaking your head frantically.
You started to beg, “Please, no.” Tears streamed down your face and Shinsou wiped them away. “I can’t. They’ll take me away, please we can’t!” Shinsou rocked you back and forth.
“Ok,” he soothed. “Ok.”
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Your teacher would never admit it but he cared deeply for his students. He would give his life 100x over if it meant his students would be alright in the end. He knew everything about his students; what they could do, what they couldn’t do, what they were afraid of, and what they were comfortable with. Aizawa was sure that his students could handle their own and would come to him if they ever needed them but there was one student he wasn’t too sure about. Y/N L/N. Aizawa knew that she had doubts about herself. He knew that she was always anxious and could get jumpy easily.
Today Aizawa was going to have his students present ways to help some of their classmates. Earlier in the week he had the class draw names and then they were to come up with ways to help the student they pulled out of a box with their quirk. It was your turn to present and you were starting to panic. 90% of the class had never even heard you speak.
“Y/N.” Aizawa spoke. “You’re up.” You took a deep breath before standing, walking up to the front of the class. You opened your mouth, attempting to speak, but no sound came from your mouth. You froze as your heart rate increased and your breath hitched. You shook your head, dropped your papers, and ran out of the classroom. Momo gasped.
“Do you-” she started but Aizawa cut her off.
“No.” The teacher followed his student out the door slowly. He roamed the halls as he looked for you.
You leaned against the wall, sitting on the cold tile floor. Tears brimmed your eyes as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve had to run out of class and later apologize to your teacher. You heard soft footsteps approach you and then someone sit down beside you.
“Are you alright?” you jumped slightly from the voice, still a little on edge. You looked to your side to see your teacher, Mr. Aizawa. You nodded, continuing to calm your breathing. Aizawa hesitantly wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry,” the teacher whispered. “I should’ve known something like this would have happened.”
You shook your head. “It’s alright.” Aizawa’s eyes widened and he smiled. You were talking to him. “I need to outgrow this sometime, right?”
“It’ll take time, but I’m willing to help in any way that I can.”
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Hawks knew that when he married you that there were many things that triggered sensory overload and anxiety. That’s why he let you stay in his office at the agency during most of the work day. You would help him with paperwork and you’d schedule events for him. That’s what you liked about your husband. He knew what triggered you and did his best to keep you safe.
When you had attacks out of nowhere, Keigo was always there to talk you down. If you were comfortable with him touching you, he’d hold you close to him and whisper in your ear. If you didn’t want physical contact he’d just sit with you and try to bring your attention away from what was triggering you.
Today was just one of those days. The days where you didn’t feel like yourself and just felt off. Your anxiety was through the roof and you didn’t feel like leaving your bed. Hawks had left before you were awake, having a conference to attend to. He should be getting back to the agency about now, you thought as you lay motionless on the bed. You were supposed to be at the agency right now but you couldn’t find the will to get out of bed. Your attention moved to your buzzing phone on the nightstand. Hawks. You let it ring as you continued to lay there. 
“Honey, I’m home!” Hawks called as he walked into the apartment you both shared. “Are you alright? You haven’t answered any of my calls and you weren’t at work.” He roamed the house, looking for you. He pushed open the door to the bedroom and saw your shaking form on the bed. He rushed over. “Baby, are you alright?” You didn’t answer as he pulled the blanket away from your face. He frowned. “Honey you’re having an attack. Can I touch you?” You nodded through your fear as Hawks swiftly picked you up and sat you in his lap. He shushed you quietly. “Breathe with me, ok?” Minutes passed as you struggled to come back down to earth and breathe. 
“It’s one of those days, isn’t it?” Hawks asked quietly. You nodded as your eyes drooped. These attacks always drained the energy right out of you. “Why don’t we take a nap?” You looked up and pecked Hawks’ lips before nuzzling further into his chest.
“That sounds nice.”
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Having dealt with quite a few of these himself, Shoto understood that you wanted space when attacks hit you. These attacks came out of nowhere, most of the time when you were relaxing with your boyfriend. The two of you were cuddling on his bed, sitting in silence. You were curled up against Todoroki’s side, half asleep. The boy rested his cheek on your head as he read the book in his hands. Todoroki knew that you were having a particularly hard day. You were much more shy than you usually were and you clung to Todoroki for most of the day, not that he didn’t mind though. You usually only did that when your anxiety was worse than usual.
“Hard day?” he whispered to your half-conscious form. You hummed in response. “Anxiety?” You nodded. Todoroki pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Do you want to talk about it?” You opened your eyes, staring off in front of you. Your breath was still shaky, but it had been that way all day so you were used to it.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you muttered. “I just woke up and felt anxious.” Todoroki could hear the tremble in your voice and wrapped an arm around you.
“Why don’t I make you that tea that always helps you calm down?” he offered. “Then we can take a nap, maybe even watch a movie.” You nodded.
“Thank you.” Todoroki returned to his dorm room about ten minutes later with a cup of steaming tea. He set it down on the nightstand when he saw your sleeping form on his bed. He knew he should let you sleep but the tea he brought he knew would calm you down. He slowly lowered himself to lay down beside you, running his hand over your arm.
“Y/N,” he said softly and planted a kiss above your ear. “Wake up darling. I’m back.” You stirred and sat up. Todoroki handed you the cup of tea and pulled you to lean against him. The two of you stayed like that until you finished your tea. Once Todoroki placed the cup back on the shelf beside the bed, he laid the both of you down. “Better?” he asked and you nodded.
“Better.”
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The boy always had a lot of energy due to his quirk. Denki was loud and always excited, which is why you two got along so easily. There were countless nights when you and Denki would stay up late playing video games together until breakfast the next morning. 
You were trying to set up one of the gaming systems as Denki walked into his dorm room, arms filled with snacks and drinks.
“Ready sweetpea?” Denki beamed. “How late are we gonna play today?”
You giggled at his sweet greeting. “I don’t know. My best guess is that we’ll lose track of time and end up falling asleep in class again.” Denki laughed. You sighed and moved to sit on your feet. “Can you help me Denki? I have no clue what I’m doing.” The boy nodded.
“Of course baby bolt,” he smiled. “Here, look.” He started to plug in certain cords and wires. He moved to pat your shoulder but sent sparks through your body. You twitched, wincing. Denki was taken aback before he launched forward and hugged you. “I’m so sorry!” he cried. “I didn’t mean to!” You laughed.
“It’s alright Denki, I’m alright.”
You played video games for about twenty minutes before you put your controller down and squeezed your eyes shut. “You alright chickadee?” Denki asked from his spot beside you. His voice wasn’t that loud, but it was like a bell ringing in your head.
“Please keep your voice down,” you whimpered. Denki scooted over to you, pulling you into a hug.
“Sensory overload,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I caused this when I shocked you earlier.” The boy continued to shield your eyes and stay quiet until you made it clear you were ok.
“Can we just go to sleep?” you asked quietly. Denki nodded.
“Of course baby bolt, if it’ll help at all.”
407 notes · View notes
pepperonijem · 3 years
Text
When He Sees Me || Peter Parker
MASTERLIST
Pairing:  Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: um peter might be a little ooc and that’s because i’m writing about my unfortunate crush but i basically just changed his name to peter parker any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental <3 
Word count: 2.5k
Summary: What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door and I can’t close it? Catching feelings for your best friend is never easy.
A/N: This fic is sponsored in part by @bitchassbucky, @spiderrpcrker, @shurisneakers, @midnightsunfae, and @blackberrybucky who instead of shutting down my feelings, hyped me up to turn my crush and some of the things that we’ve done into a fic <3 this goes out to anyone who has ever started crushing on their best friend.
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Oh God, please don’t walk this way, please don’t wa-
“Oh, hey Peter!” The crack in your voice betrayed your attempt at a casual greeting, despite your efforts to disguise it with a cough. “How’s it-- how’s it hanging?”
“You good?” Peter smiled at you but his eyebrow quirked upwards in concern. “I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight?” His concern faded into a wide grin as you nodded in response. Peter gave you a quick goodbye before walking away towards his next class.
As soon as you saw him turn into the classroom, you turned to face your closed locker, letting out a groan before setting your forehead against it. Peter had asked if you were good, and although you nodded, the butterflies in your stomach threatened to give you away. You were very much not good.
A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned to see your friend MJ. “What did Peter do this time?” MJ asked. For the last month, every interaction with Peter -- there have been a lot -- ended this way: a groan of defeat and a few welted lines on your forehead from holding your head against your locker. You turned to give MJ a dirty look, annoyed by the amused smirk on her face.
“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed, finally lifting your head up to talk to her. You opened your locker as you talked, not wanting to make eye contact with MJ as you confessed your feelings. “He just… smiled… and everything went downhill from there.” You rolled your eyes as MJ laughed. “It’s getting worse, I have no idea how I’m going to get through tonight.”
MJ laid a hand on your shoulder. “Well we’ll all be there,” she offered. “And if it makes you feel better, no one’s even noticed. Just act normal and you’ll be fine.” She shrugged her shoulders as if that was the easiest thing to do. But you couldn’t act normal anymore, not with Peter. Not when normal means resting your head against his shoulder every time he makes you laugh. Not when normal means borrowing his clothes when his aunt May tells you to stay the night every time a study session runs too long. Not when normal means wearing the extra sweater he keeps for you because you always forget yours.
Normal was when you didn’t feel butterflies everytime he looked at you, before your curious heart got the better of you and you began to wonder what it might be like to hold his hand. Now, things were just weird. At least for you. Nothing on the surface had changed, no one noticed how your heart rate picked up every time Peter touched you, or how you suddenly felt hot whenever he winked at you. But inside your heart was navigating uncharted territory in your friendship, trying to traipse along the thin line that separated how things have always been and how you suddenly wish things could be.
Pulling your textbook out of your locker, you shut the locker door a just a little bit more aggressively than necessary. MJ gave you a small hug before linking her arm through yours as you walked to your next class.
For the rest of the day, you found it impossible to focus on anything. Instead of taking down notes on George Orwell in English, you found yourself absentmindedly doodling hearts. Everything just reminded you of Peter and your own confusing feelings. Thankfully, you didn’t share any classes with him today, leaving you enough solitude to think about just why you were so frustrated with yourself.
Logically, you knew there was nothing wrong with having a crush on someone. You’ve had plenty of crushes before, a few of which reflected a temporary lapse in judgement on your part. You remember telling Peter about each of them, gushing about the most basic acts of human decency as he rolled his eyes and told you that you deserve someone better, but nevertheless helping you pick up the pieces every time someone broke your heart. That, you realized, was what scared you the most.
If you were to date, and then break up… well who would be there with kind words and your favorite boba when everything fell apart? The thought of losing your best friend over emotions, feelings, left far too much to chance. Was the idea of holding his hand, of hearing him call you his enough to make you risk the friendship that has always been enough for you? It should be enough for you, you reminded yourself. There was too much on the line and not enough guarantee for you to risk it.
With that determination in mind, you steeled yourself for the rest of the day, determined to put your feelings to rest and go back to normal.
Unfortunately, that plan quickly fell through.
You got to the restaurant a half hour late with only a really good nap to blame. You felt bad that your friends were waiting for you, but when you got there, you found an empty spot next to Peter, where your usual order of ramen was waiting and against your will, the butterflies flew rampant. The noodle that hit Peter’s nose as he ate while waving you over made you laugh as you sat down beside him.
“I got you your usual,” Peter explained in between bites. You smiled and thanked him before digging in. Peter had done this for you many times, and you willed your body to fight against the flutter of your heart.
Thankfully, the rest of your dinner was going well, and everyone had plenty of stories to tell. MJ had begun doing more portraits of people in distress and revealed her latest piece -- a portrait of Peter slurping up a noodle only to get a rogue drop of soup in his eye. Ned and Betty were off again, but of course they tried to keep it civil (they were on again by the end of the night) so no one would have to pick sides. Flash teased Peter about the B that he made on his literature exam yesterday over poetry and Peter’s face turned beet red.
“Hey,” Peter began, attempting to defend himself. “I totally could’ve made a perfect score. I was just distracted.” He shrunk down in his seat a little bit, and the rest of you laughed teasingly.
“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Flash continued. “You’ve been drawing little hearts all over your notes, dude, it’s unsettling.” He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food, swirling his fork around the bowl trying to grab as much noodle as possible.
Across the table, you and MJ made eye contact, a look of surprise between the both of you. You tried to signal her to say something before a weird silence fell on the table, but she was not reading your cues. Thankfully, Peter spoke again.
“H-hearts?” He repeated. “Why would I be drawing hearts on my notes?” Although he tried to play it off, the rise in pitch gave him away. He scrunched his face in exaggeration.
“Actually,” Betty began. “Now that I think about it, you were doing that in Spanish class too.” You glanced over at Peter who looked at you with panic in his eyes. You took a long sip of water, suddenly feeling a layer of sweat form at the back of your neck. “Wonder what that’s about.” She shrugged and turned to Ned asking if he wanted to split a slice of cheesecake with her.
Before Peter had a chance to try to defend himself once again, the waitress appeared. “Are you all ready for the check?” she asked.
“Yeah, but we’re splitting the check,” Flash replied. Betty rolled her eyes in response. “What? Just because I’m rich does not mean I have to share the wealth.”
The waitress nodded in response. As she was leaving Peter called her back. “Oh wait,” he called. “I’ll also be paying for this order,” he gestured to your bowl. She smiled at him and headed for the counter.
“Peter,” you smiled. “I have money, I can pay for myself.” Although Peter usually had to order for you, he didn’t usually pay for you, unless it was a special occasion.
“I know, I just wanted to be nice,” he responded, giving your shoulder a playful nudge. “Plus, you seem like you’ve had a rough week. Every time I see you, you seem to be lost in thought. What’s been on your mind?” The sentence came out casually, but the furrow in his brows revealed how concerned he actually has been. Peter was nothing if not observant, like he could sense things better than most people.
You let out a sigh, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to lie to Peter, but you also didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were thinking about him-- well, your feelings for him. Just when it seemed like he had backed you into a corner, however, the waitress had returned with the checks, and the question left unanswered.
After dinner, the six of you went to Flash’s house to watch a movie. He had a home theater and early access to new movies and he loved to remind everyone of that. Not that any of you minded, especially if it got you free popcorn and a movie out of it. Every week, a different person got to select the movie and today, unfortunately, was MJ’s turn.
You loved her, of course, but you absolutely detested her taste in movies. Mostly because she was a horror junkie, and you were absolutely not. Her last few turns however had been spent making sure you all had seen all of the Shrek movies. But today, she picked a horror film. Something about demons and the like. Peter and Betty cheered at her selection as Flash groaned. You settled into the couch in the back of the room and grabbed a blanket. Ned and Betty sat together on a smaller loveseat, and MJ sat on the floor in front of Flash’s seat, the perfect spot to be able to scare him with a single touch on his leg.
Peter sat down beside you, handing you a tub of popcorn and a soda. He pulled the blanket over his own lap as he sat criss-cross on the couch. You tried not to pay attention to how his leg was brushing against yours under the blanket, instead focusing on the screen as the room went dark.
The movie had just started, but you could already feel yourself tense up in expectation.The music was coming to a crescendo and you knew something was already going to happen. You didn’t realize just how tightly your fists had balled together in your lap till you jumped at the sound of Peter’s soft voice at the shell of your ear. “Are you okay?” He asked.
He tried to hold in a chuckle as you almost bounced the tub of popcorn off your lap. He grabbed it from you and set it to the side. “Look,” he pointed to the screen where the creature’s head had just rotated a full circle as it crawled up the wall in pursuit of the main character. “That thing kinda looks like the spider from that kid’s tv show, but not as creepy.” You let out a laugh, a little louder than you meant, and Ned turned to tell you to shut up.
The small joke was enough to dissipate the anxiety you felt towards the movie, but unfortunately only heightened your feelings about Peter. But he noticed how your fists unclenched and how your shoulders relaxed once you laughed, so he continued to tell you whispered jokes for the rest of the movie. Each time he noticed your body tensing, he tried his best to make you laugh, and god, how could you stop yourself from those butterflies anymore?
At the height of the movie, you found yourself with your hands over your ears, and eyes squeezed shut, unable to even look at the screen or hear a joke. When Peter realized a joke wouldn’t be enough, he slid closer to you and pulled you into his side and you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Before you had a chance to think about the spicy notes of his cologne or the softness of his skin, the sound of a high pitched scream in the movie caused you to jump with a gasp. In response, Peter wrapped his arms around you tight, with a gentle shush.
It was only after the music began to die down that you opened your eyes again, only to find Peter’s eyes fixed on the screen. Now that the worst was over, you no longer had an excuse to be in his embrace the way you were. You began to wiggle your way out of his arms, attracting his attention.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Peter I’m a big kid,” you smiled, teasing. “You don’t have to hold me like a baby.” Peter let out a soft laugh before relaxing his hold on you just a bit.
“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll just hold you like this then.” He began to shift so that your head was on his shoulder, and one of his arms looped under yours, intertwining your fingers. The smile on his face was calm as if this was something the two of you did all the time, but his racing heartbeat reminded you this was something new.
The two of you remained that way for the rest of the movie. By the time the soft music began to play in the credits, you could hear light snoring from everyone else in the room. However, you and Peter made absolutely no efforts to untangle yourselves from each other. It was as if you were worried that once the lights came back on, you would never find yourself like this again, and what a sad idea that was. Normal, would never be enough for you again, not when you know now how much better life could be like this.
You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the jump scares, or the sureness of his hand in yours, like it’s always belonged there, that gave you the courage to finally break the silence.
“Peter,” you breathed out, lifting your head from his shoulder, but not letting go of his hand.
He turned to you, with a look of concern, afraid of what you might say.
“Kiss me.” The words came out so softly and so quickly that you weren’t sure if you said it at all.
“Finally,” he whispered as his lips fell against yours, softly and slowly. He pulled away after what felt like hours and yet not nearly enough time. His hands reached up to cup your face. “I like you,” he admitted. “So much.”
Suddenly, you felt it. You felt exactly what it must feel like to fly, to let yourself go without worrying about gravity or anything else. The risks were still there, the numbers hadn’t changed, but you knew that no matter what happened next, just having the chance to fly would always be enough.
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adminbryantsaki · 3 years
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Alpha! Werewolf! Aizawa x Female! Luna! Reader.
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(A/N: I am here again with the Bnharem’s collab! This theme is sex worker. I hope you enjoy this version of everyone’s favorite sleepy teacher, Aizawa.)
(A Luna is an alpha that can conceive. A luna has a harder time at conceiving and is more submissive if in a relationship with an alpha. Lunas have ruts and heats. These ruts are not as aggressive as an Alphas and the heats are not as aggressive as an omega’s either the heat or the rut is when the Luna is more fertile. Lunas can be marked and give marks to both Alphas and Omegas.)
Word count 8,535.
Rating: 18+, minors dni
TW: Omegaverse, Breeding, Werewolf, cum inflation, strip club, pregnancy.
If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, then move along.
Read the other stories here
It was late at night. You and your friend were walking home late after a party. The both of you had a bit too much to drink. An ad from the strip club caught the attention of your friend.
“Oooh! An ad for some sexy alpha men. Isn’t your heat rather close, Y/N?” You friend said a bit too loudly as they waved the ad in your face. You took the paper and stuffed it into your purse.
“Enough, F/N. Do you wish to get us followed?” You hissed and pushed your friend to your apartment building making it inside the complex before guiding your drunk friend up the stairs to the door of your apartment. Your friend had passed out on the way up so you had to prop her up while you fumbled for the key to your apartment. You let out a noise of relief when you finally found your key and unlocked the door to your apartment. You set your friend on the floor so you could grab a bucket for the morning. You dragged them to your small couch and pulled them onto the item of furniture. You pulled a blanket over them and went to your bedroom to change out of your own clothes. You sighed in relief when you took your bra off and chucked it onto the corner where your laundry basket was. You pulled off the scent blocking patches from the delicate skin of your neck and put them back into their packaging. You grabbed the small container of lotion you had and rubbed the serum into your skin. You hummed and got changed into your pjs. You looked over at your purse and saw the ad peeking out. You sighed and pulled the piece of paper out of the confines of your purse and stared at it.
‘Are you lonely? In need of a mate? Then pick from one of these fine Alphas courtesy of The Underground. Bring this ad for entry.’ The top line of the ad read. You looked down at the selection of alphas presented on the page. None of them really caught your interest. A few did look good but not what you would actually want as a mate. As you looked down the ad, you noticed all the typical over muscular apex alphas. One of them scared you with the flaming red hair and another weirded you out by having features similar to that of a killer whale. Your eyes settled on a dark-haired man that looked sleep deprived. He had a pair of wolf ears and slight stubble on his jawline. You couldn’t stop staring at the man. You read his description and found out that he was a werewolf. That you didn’t mind. He would be like a kind of guard dog along with being your mate. The idea of having an alpha werewolf as your mate made you blush hard. You set the ad down, crawled under your covers and drifted off to sleep.
 §§§§§
The next morning you woke up to the sounds of your friend puking into the bucket. You sighed and pulled yourself up from your bed. Your senses seemed on overload. You checked your phone to see if your heat had started. It hadn’t yet. You let out a sigh of relief and got up to help your friend. You walked into the living room and saw your friend who was a beta so if your heat had started, they wouldn’t be affected by your scent. You sat next to them and held their hair back as they puked into the bucket. You rubbed your friend’s back as your mind wandered back to the ad you had perused the night before. You blushed a bit as you thought of the alpha werewolf. You shook it out of your head as you stood up to find a common cure that some distant relative of yours had told you would cure a hangover in a moment. You found it and put some into a mug to brew as a kind of tea for your friend. You turned your electric kettle on to boil some water. You stared off into space as the water boiled. The thought of what that alpha would look like up close and personal occupied your thoughts. Would he be completely covered in fur? Or only have the ears and tail? You also took note of the muscles that he had that were shown of him in the advertisement. You felt your face heat up as the kettle clicked off and you were taken from your mental fantasy to pour the water into the mug and carry the vessel to your hungover friend.
“Here you go.” You said quietly in a gentle and caring tone. Your friend groaned and looked up at you then at the mug.
“What is that?” They asked.
“Something that will help with your head. Trust me. It will be bitter but it will help.” You said as they received the mug from you and took a sip. Their face soured which made you chuckle.
“I gotta get changed and go to work. You can stay here for as long as you need until your hangover goes away.” You told your friend.
“Thank you. I’ll just finish this and go home. Thank you though.” They responded. You let them be as you went to go shower to get ready for the day.
Your friend was still on the couch by the time you had gotten out of the shower.
“Did you look over the ad, Y/n?” They called out. You glanced over at the paper that was laying on your nightstand.
“Yeah! I did. You might even be interested in some of them if you looked at it yourself.” You responded as your pulled on your shirt. You picked up the ad and walked out to the living room where your friend seemed a lot better than before.
“Here. Look at it. There’s a couple red heads and blondes that you might like.” You told them as you handed them the page.
“If you say so.” They said as they browsed the ad. You went back into your room to finish dressing yourself. You came out a few minutes later all dressed except for your shoes. You wanted to eat some food before you headed out the door. You grabbed a microwave breakfast burrito, unwrapped it, and put it into the microwave to heat up.
“Oooh! Some of the boys on here are kinda cute! We should go this Friday!” Your friend called to you from their seat on your couch.
“If you want to, I’m game for it… I do want a mate this time around.” You said as you stopped the microwave and pulled out your hot breakfast.
“Interesting. You know I can still help you if you want me to.” Your friend offered.
“I know… but I don’t wanna inconvenience you. You have an omega that you’ve had your eye on for a while. You should go for them. I’m not saying that you aren’t bad at what you do. I just prefer an alpha as a permanent mate.” You told you friend.
“I understand. There’s something about alphas that is just irresistible. I might hook up with one before I settle down with the omega. One of the beefy red heads looks interesting.” Your friend said as they eyed the ad again.
“Thank you. I’m glad we’re still on good terms.” You spoke. Your friend nodded and gathered their things and left with you as you went to work.  
 §§§§§
Friday came sooner than you thought. You were getting all dressed up in your clubbing outfit. You were putting on your shapewear to slim down your hips, thighs, butt, and stomach. You slid on a simple black dress and went to go do your hair and makeup before your friend came to pick you up. You took your time applying the makeup to your face. Just enough to enhance your already natural beauty. You then curled your hair to have simple waves to accentuate your face. You just finished applying the final layer of hairspray when you heard knocking at your door.
“Just a moment! I will be right there!” You called from your bathroom. You adjusted your hair once more before walking to your door and opening it a bit to see who it was. It was your friend who was also dressed up. You closed the door again and unlocked it to let your friend in. They stepped in and closed the door behind them. You went to your room to grab your purse and the ad as you needed the page to enter the establishment. You pulled your shoes on then went to join your friend.
“You ready to finally get yourself an Alpha mate?” They asked. You smiled and nodded. They hooked arms with you and headed off to the club.
The pair of you turned the corner of the block that the club was in. You followed your friend down the alley where what seemed to be the bouncer was standing outside the door. He had silvery hair and what looked to be a permanent scowl on his face. The bouncer had a small tooth poking out from his bottom lip. His gaze looked over at the two of you.
“You two got the entrance requirement?” The bouncer asked. You nodded and reached inside your purse for the ad. The bouncer took the ad and looked at it.
“Alright. The both of you are in. Have fun you two.” The beefy man told the both of you and held the door open for the both of you. You entered and took in the environment of the neon lights, sensual music that came from the DJ in the corner, the smell of lust mixed with a heavy combination of several heat and rut scents clinging to the smog laden air made you feel dizzy; your head buzzing. You held onto your friend as the two of you were stopped by a dark blue haired woman with a low- cut dress and a high slit in her skirt that showed her fishnet stockings. The scent that came from her made your body feel heavy and your eyelids grow heavy.
“Hello, I am the owner of this fine establishment, you may call me Midnight. How may I help the both of you?” The woman introduced herself.
“My friend here is looking for an Alpha. I myself wish to hook up with one of your Alphas as well but not permanently.” Your friend spoke for the both of you since your head was clouded with taking in all the new sounds, smells, and sights that had invaded your senses. Your eyes wandered over your surroundings as you took the new environment in. You saw the Alphas that were shown in the advertisement. Along with some other faces that weren’t shown. You saw the other guy that had caught your interest in the back corner behind his turntables, monitoring speaker, and mixer. You scanned the room to see if you could find the werewolf that had piqued your interest and caused a fire to light in the lower part of your stomach. You searched the room in anticipation to see his face and take in his scent. You couldn’t seem to find him among all the other alphas there in the main room. Your mind went to the worse case and thought that he already had a customer for the evening. This idea saddened you a bit and you stared at the ground.
“That is excellent. I will need for you to write down your secondary gender to help with our ratings. After you have done that, feel free to look through our selection of Alphas and other dynamics.” Midnight requested of the two of you. You looked up and the both of you write down your specific dynamics. The both of you then handed your cards to the woman. Midnight looked over what the two of you had written and when she read yours, her eyebrow raised. She gave a book of the still available workers to your friend and she told you to go wait in the bar for her. You did as you were told and went to the bar.
The host that was seating people asked you if you were waiting for anyone. You said that Midnight had told you to come here and they guided you to a back corner seat and had you sit there. They took your order and went off to make your drink. You looked over to where your friend was being guided by Midnight to the tall, beefy redhead with flames all over his body. You chuckled to yourself as your friend had picked out the same red head that they were gushing about earlier that week.  You watched as Midnight introduced your friend to the red head and he stood up to his full height and introduced himself. You watched as someone delivered your drink to you the sheer size of the man and how he dwarfed your friend. Midnight left the two be and headed in your direction. You watched the man lead your friend into a private room. Midnight slipped into the seat across from you with her own drink.
“We don’t usually get Lunas coming here looking for an Alpha. They usually want Omegas. What brings you here, Y/N? Other than an Alpha to help you with your heat?” She asked as she sipped her drink.
“I want a mate. I want a partner to keep me company and to treat me right and not like some creature that is only meant to take care of the house and bend over when they want to rut into me then expect me to raise his litter on my own.” You told her. She smiled at you.
“I know exactly the Alpha for you.” She said and stood up. She held out her arm for you. You stood up and took her arm so she could guide your head riddled brain up the spiral staircase and to the quieter part of the apartments of the club.
“Who is this Alpha you are taking me to?” You asked as the environment and mood changed to one that caused a chill to run down your spine. You could smell a difference in the air as the scent changed from citrusy, warm, and spicy to cool, crisp, and relaxing. The scent was similar to that of waking up in a log cabin deep in the woods just after a night where the snow fell hard the night before and your partner had made a fresh pot of coffee and had brought you a cup. You hummed and closed your eyes to take in his scent. Midnight paused with you to let you take in the new scent. You opened your eyes and looked to her.
“What else do I need to know about him?” You asked as you had let his scent envelop you.
“He’s a werewolf, sweetheart.” The woman told you. Your eyes widened and you tensed up.
“Relax, he won’t bite you, much.” She told you as she stood by the door. You walked over to the door and stood in front of it.  
“The both of you will have to establish a safe word.  He won’t mate with you until you give him consent. He is actually quite the gentleman once you get to know him. Shouta will take care of you and your heat, he has been looking for a mate himself for a while now. You could possibly be the lucky one.” Midnight said as she opened the door for you. You took a deep breath and stepped inside the room. You looked around the room to take in your surroundings and look for your Alpha. He was nowhere to be seen. You heard the door close and lock behind you and a presence that set the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
“So, what did you come here for? Just another omega who can’t handle their heat? How pathetic.” You heard a deep, gravelly voice rumble from behind you. You turned around to face him even though you could barely see his form from where you stood in the dim lighting of his apartment. The man stood before you shirtless and wearing a rather tight pair of sweatpants that showed his already erect member. You panted a bit and spoke up.
“I’m not some typical needy omega!  I am a Luna that is looking for a mate. The owner of this establishment thought that you and I would be a good match up.” You told him in a slightly raised tone. He pushed off the wall that he was leaning on and looked at you from the shadows. He slowly walked to you and held your jaw in his hand.
“You think you’re so tough because of your dynamic, huh? Still pathetic. Why would Midnight pair you with me?” He asked as a strong wave scent of rain-soaked pine filled your nostrils and knocked you onto your butt. He smirked and walked over to his nest.  
“Tell me why I should even consider taking you as a mate.” He said as he laid down and watched you.
“I don’t just want a one-night fling, I want a permanent partner. One that will care for me and treat me like a human being and not just some breeder to crank out litters.” You told him. This caught his interest and made him look at you.
“Come here then, Little Luna.” He told you and made room for you in his nest. You obeyed and did as you were told and sat outside the nest. The werewolf looked at you and flicked his fluffy ebony tail at you. Shouta watched your chest rise and fall with your labored breaths as your heat slowly invaded your body, making you get hot and needy. You were doing your best to keep your scent to yourself. You huffed as your neck felt sore as you wanted to let your scent loose and fill the room with your heat scent. Shouta noticed the frown knitted into your brow. He leaned forward and whispered into your ear.
“Let it out, kitten, I want to smell you. No other alphas will come in here. They know not to mess with me.” He told you.  He hovered over your neck where you could feel his warm breath on your sensitive skin. You finally released your scent and the werewolf took it all in. He buried his nose into your neck and growled in your ear which made your heat become more wet with slick. The werewolf wanted to sink his teeth into your neck and make you his and his alone. He pulled away and sat back in his nest and stared at you.
“Why don’t you come in here with me, kitten?” He purred and encouraged you to come into his nest that seemed to be lined with a sleeping bag. You climbed in and melted into the soft fabric that was the inside of the sleeping bag. The man put a hand on your back and hummed as he rubbed your back.
“How long have you been holding your scent in? Your doctor should’ve told you that’s dangerous.” Shouta told you as he rubbed your back and looked down at your heat-ridden form.
“About a week.” You said just loud enough so he could hear you. He sighed and laid down next to you.
“Do you feel better now?” He asked as he stroked your cheek. You nodded and looked at him.
“Tell me your name, Little Luna. You probably know mine already from the ad.” He said as he stroked your hair out of your face.
“Yours is Shouta Aizawa. Mines Y/N.” You told him. The werewolf smirked and propped himself up on an elbow.
“Such a pretty name.” Shouta spoke. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Everything about him drove you crazy as you resisted the urge to take him as your mate and get it over with.
“I know you said that you don’t want to just be some, thing to be bred but I know you’re in heat just by how strong your scent is. I’m willing to be your mate. Midnight was right. You are perfect for me. As for your heat though, you have no idea how much I want to fill you with my seed over and over until your womb is heavy with my litter.”  The werewolf confessed as his voice began to hint with that lust filled tone that you had heard from previous alphas that had courted you in the past. You began to stare at the wall.
“Hey. Eyes back down here, Y/N. I know that you don’t want to be an incubator 24/7. I don’t expect that. But I know that you want me to claim you right here and now and stuff that wet hole of yours full of my seed? How does that sound, Little Luna?” He asked as he kept eye contact with you. You were blushing redder than a beet when you looked at him. You nodded in agreement and he proceeded to move onto his hands and knees. He hovered over you and was so close that you wanted to pull him into a deep and passionate kiss but you stopped yourself.
“Before we begin, what should our safe word be?” He asked as he moved close to your neck and wanted to bite a deep bruise on the tender flesh of your skin.
“How does moonlight sound?” You suggested as his scent flooded your senses.
“A little tacky but it will do.” Shouta chuckled as he hovered closer to your neck.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a permanent mate by the lack of a mark on your neck.” He said as he put a gentle kiss on your collar bone. You held back a moan and spoke.  
“No, I haven’t. Please, just mark me already.” You practically begged for him.
“Then tell me what you want me to do to you, Little Luna~.” He said as he put another kiss down on your chest right above your breasts. Shouta pulled away and looked up at you.
“Go on and tell me.” He encouraged you. You sat up and looked him in the eyes.
“I want to have your litter so badly. Please. I beg of you, fill me with your seed. Fuck me until I’m sore and can’t move anymore. I want you to be mine and mine alone, Shouta.” You told him as you cupped his face and gave him a genuine pleading look. You looked so cute to him as he looked back into your eyes and saw the honesty in what you had said.
“If we are gonna do this then you should know that there is no going back. Once we are mated, then we are mated for life.” He told you as he ran a hand up your thigh. You looked back at him and nodded. The thought of a werewolf as your mate made you push out more slick that now coated your thighs. The werewolf smirked and kissed you before moving to your neck. He kissed and licked the area around the area he was gonna mark you with to put you on edge. You huffed and whimpered out as you wanted his knot to fill your empty hole. Shouta looked to you when you let out a whimper.
“Should we call you kitten instead of little Luna?” He teased you. You huffed and moved to turn away from him.
“Where do you think you’re going, kitten? We need to get you out of that pesky dress of yours~.” He told you and helped you sit up. He undid the zipper on your dress then slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders. He leaned to your left side and bit down on your soft flesh and sucked a pretty bruise into your neck before leaving.
“You’re mine now. Mine and mine alone, Kitten.” He told you before kissing all over your neck and licking blood from the mark. He pulled away from you slowly and kissed your cheek.
“Yes. I’m yours, Alpha.” You responded. He smiled and kissed you. He pulled the rest of your dress off your body and chucked the garment to the far corner of the room. You looked sadly at the discarded garment as you worried that you wouldn’t get it back.
“Don’t worry, kitten. You’ll get it back when we’re done.” His eyes flicked down to your waist as he noticed the shapewear on you and smirked.
“What makes you need to wear something like this?” He asked as he ran a thumb over the band that lay just below your chest. He looked up at you to see you blush and look away from him. He gripped your face and made you look at him.  
“What’s wrong? You can tell me.” He asked.
“I wear the shapewear because my lower half is too big.” You told him. He moved down to rest his head on your stomach.
“I want to see.” He told you as he looked up at you with his deep brown eyes and you melted. You stood up with his help and slowly pulled the constricting fabric down off your body until you were only standing there in your underwear and bra. His eyes widened and he leaned back.
“I don’t see anything wrong with your body.” He said as he pulled you down into his lap and against his warm and partially fuzzy chest. He looked down at you.
“Look at me, kitten.” He told you in the same commanding tone as earlier. You obeyed and looked up at him. He held a crooked finger under your chin as he looked at you in the eyes.
“You are beautiful just the way you are. There is nothing I would change. But I do have to say, I do appreciate your thick ass.” He told you with a smirk. You blushed and hid your face in the crook of his neck to take in his scent. He chuckled and slid his hands down to grip your butt. He grinned and slid a hand up your back to caress your hair and take in the scent of your shampoo. He hummed and kissed your head. He slid his hand back down to your butt.
“You’re so soft, I like it.” He told you as he let his fingers sink into the soft flesh of your hips. He guided you to lay down in the nest and look up at him.
“Remind me again what you wanted from me?” He asked as he looked down at you and gave you kisses all over your neck and torso.
“I want your litter. I want it so badly.” You reminded him. He nudged your legs to spread them open so he could lay down between your legs and rested his head on your stomach.
“Just how badly do you want this?” He asked as he traced patterns on your side. You huffed as you were growing impatient as you felt your heat grow more and more unbearable as you snuck a hand down to give yourself some release.  
“What do you think you’re doing? Did you think you could sneak a hand down there and fuck yourself when you clearly came here to get claimed, fucked, and bred full of a litter? I don’t think so.” He scolded you gently. He then arose from the nest and went to another part of his room to retrieve something that you couldn’t see. You rolled over onto your stomach and watched him come back with a long piece of grey fabric. You blushed as he stared down at you with the fabric looped in his hand.
” For being such a naughty kitten, you are going to get your wrists bound.” He said as he knelt down and bound your wrists together. He didn’t pull tightly, just loosely bound them so you couldn’t move them easily then put your arms above your head. He then climbed back into the nest and hovered over your body, situating your wrists so you couldn’t move them. You stared at his bare chest and gulped down the lump of anticipation that had formed in your throat. Once your wrists were secured in the wall of the nest, he looked at you and smirked. He spread your legs back open and slid between them. He folded your legs up so they almost touched your chest. You blushed harder as he stared at your slick hole. He moved down to kiss and nip at the soft flesh of your thick thighs.
“So soft and cuddly. I could use your thighs as a pillow for when I take a nap.” Shouta said as he pressed his cheek to your thigh and kissed it.  He kissed his way down to your entrance and attached his mouth to your hole and began to kiss and suck the slick off your lower area. You moaned out, shut your eyes closed, moved your hips against his mouth. He looked up at you and smacked your butt.
“Look at me, kitten. Keep eye contact with me the whole time.” He told you and made eye contact with you. He growled against your folds which made you squirm in his grip.  He chuckled and sucked you more. You leaked more slick and he swallowed every drop you would give him. You felt your head buzzing as he gave you so much stimulation that you could barely handle it. Shouta pulled away to grab the bottle of lube he had stored around the outside edges of the nest. He applied some to your hole and shifted up to put you into a mating press. He pulled his sweats down a bit and pulled his massive cock out to apply some lube and slide his member into you gently so you could adjust to his size. You moaned and desperately moved your hips to give yourself some friction. But the werewolf wouldn’t have it. He growled and spanked your supple ass again. He gripped your hips and held them in place.
“Did you want to do all the work? I can get you a dildo instead.” He said as he began to pull out. You whined and shook your head no. He pushed his girth back inside and made you wait a little longer.
“Don’t be impatient or I’ll get you kicked out, you got that?” He told you in a firm tone. You nodded.
“I’ll behave. I will. Just please breed me!” You cried out. He smirked and began to thrust slowly in and out of you. You moaned and gripped the blanket above you as his knot stretched you so nicely. He quickened his pace and sucked a mark onto your thigh. This caused you to moan out and let your scent pour out from your glands to fill the room. Shouta took in your scent which made him drive deeper into you.  
“I’m gonna fill you up good, kitten. Make you so full that cum drips out of your hole~.” He told you as he pounded into you. You nodded in agreement. You had waited so long to carry a litter. You were happy that you finally would be able to after so long. You were in pure bliss as your werewolf mate pound your dripping hole. He grunted in your ear as he whispered things into your ear that made the knot in your lower stomach grow bigger until it was threatening to snap. You whimpered and told him you were close. He nodded and the both of you released. He pulled out and got you some water. He held your head up and made sure you drank. When you were finished with the water, he looked at you.
“Do you need anything else before we go another round, little Luna?” He asked of you while he had a smirk on his face. You were still blushing hard and shook your head no.
You wanted to be leaving here with a stomach rounded out from being stuffed with cum and having your hole dripping with his seed. He lined up with your hole before sliding in. He looked to you to make sure you were ok before thrusting. He gave you his knot this time to give you a higher chance of getting pregnant. You had released sooner than you thought you would. You could feel the hot spray of his seed in your womb as he released. He didn’t pull out and instead he kissed you again as he began to thrust more as he was determined to give you his litter. About an hour or so passed before the both of you were spent and he finally pulled out, put his member back in his pants, and laid next to you. He turned to face you and intertwined his fingers with yours. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at your cum-filled stomach and put a hand on it as he kissed your head.  
“Go use the bathroom love. Is there anything else you want?” He asked as you sat up and discovered just how sore your hole was.
“C-can you help me to the bathroom? My legs feel like jelly.” You asked him. He nodded and stood up. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom. He set you on the toilet and left you to do your business and he went through his drawers and pulled out one of his shirts and pulled out a pair of fresh underwear provided by Midnight for the customers.  He walked back to the bathroom door, knocked a couple times and opened the door a bit.
“You can wear these for now.” He said as he handed the clothes to you and closed the door again. You got changed and finished using the bathroom. You called for him to come in. Shouta was waiting there so he could scoop you up in his arms and carry you back to the nest. You held onto him and he held you close. While you were in the bathroom, he had added a couple pillows, a heating pad, and some more water bottles to the nest and the surrounding area. He then set you down in the nest and sat outside the nest looking in on you.
“T-Thank you, Shouta.” You said as you put the heating pad on your lower back.
“I’d do anything for you.” He told you as he kissed your head and wagged his tail a bit.  
“Can you get some food for us? I’m hungry.” You told him. He nodded and got back up again.
“What do you want?” He asked.
“I’d like F/F.” You requested. He nodded and pulled a shirt on before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. This left you to get comfortable in the nest and doze off a bit before he came back. Your mate soon returned with your favorite food and something for himself to eat. He set your food in the nest next to you before he leaned in and brushed a few strands of hair from your face. He kissed your forehead which made you scrunch your face a bit and wake up.
“Have a nice nap, kitten?” He asked as you noticed the bag with your favorite food inside.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep but I was so tired after we mated.” You told him while eating your food.
“I did you put you through the ringer earlier. You can stay until morning. Now that I have a mate, I need to move out. I want to stay loyal to you. Even more so if you’re gonna have a litter.” He said as he ate his food.  
“I have a small apartment that we can share.” You told him. He smiled a bit.
“I don’t have much. Just what’s here in this room.” He responded.
“I can help you pack up tomorrow. I live down the block.” You said smiling.  
“We can have some of the other guys help carry my stuff to your apartment.” He told you. You nodded and smiled. Shouta took the to-go containers and put it outside his room. He then walked back to where you were in the nest and laid next to you.  
“Thank you.” You told him. The look on Shouta’s face was that of a puppy wanting to climb into bed with you. You smiled and put your fingers into his ebony locks and stroked one of his wolf ears that poked out of his head.
“Get in here. Just be careful, I’m still sore down there.” You told him. His face lit up and he climbed into the nest and laid behind you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you gently into his embrace. You couldn’t be happier than you were right now. You had a mate and a very large possibility of a litter on the way. Shouta had his hand over your swollen stomach and was kissing your neck and ear. He was happy too.
“Thank you for being my mate, kitten. I’m happy you asked me to be your alpha. I will help you through each and every heat that you have if you’ll let me.” He told you and slid a hand up your shirt. You blushed and pressed into him.  He smirked and cuddled you.  
“You just rest now. You’re gonna be growing a litter here soon, Kitten.” He told you. You closed your eyes and dozed off in his arms. He kept you close all through the night as there were others going to their rooms with people that had come in earlier that evening. You woke up a little bit and flipped over so you were facing Shouta. You nuzzled into his chest and he woke up too.
“What’s wrong kitten?” He asked quietly.
“Others are making noise.” You responded as you blinked up at him.
“That’s normal here.” He chuckled. You blushed and hid your face. He looked down at you.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you come under my shirt to keep you warm? How does that sound?” Shouta suggested. You liked the idea and with his help he lifted the hem of his shirt and slid under his shirt. You hummed and nuzzled his chest. He stroked the back of your head as you pressed your face into his chest and dozed back to sleep. He pulled the sleeping bag around you two and zipped it up before he fell back asleep.
 Morning came and you woke up sleepily. You looked up to see Shouta looking down at your sleeping form.
“Morning kitten, did you sleep ok?” He asked.
“Yeah. After I got under your shirt, I zonked out quickly.” You said giggling.
“Do you want breakfast?” He asked.
“Are you allowed to do that still? Even now that I’m your mate?” You asked as you didn’t want him to get in trouble.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll tell Midnight what happened last night and she will have some of the other guys come up when we’re ready to go.” He reassured you as he unzipped the sleeping bag. You whined as you didn’t want to leave the warmth that he gave you.
“You can cuddle me more once we’re settled in your apartment, ok kitten?” He said looking down at you then helping you leave his shirt which was now stretched out. He stood up and let you be wrapped up in the sleeping bag. He knelt down and kissed your head before he left to get food. He stopped at the door.
“What do you want?” He asked.
“Pancakes with chocolate chips?” You asked cutely.
“Anything for you, kitten.” He told you before leaving. You rolled over and snuggled back into the sleeping bag to rest your eyes more before you had to get up. A few minutes later, Shouta came up with some pancakes for the both of you.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up. Your breakfast is here.” He told you teasingly and licked your cheek. You opened your eyes.
“All I see is you~.” You said while blushing hard.  
“Do you want me for breakfast too, kitten?” He asked as he leaned closer to you and kissed you. He lured you out of the sleeping bag and into the cold air.
“I know you don’t like the cold but the warm and fluffy pancakes that are dripping with syrup and waiting to be devoured by a rather ravenous kitten~.” He mused as he teased you with the pancake. You reached over to take a bite but he pulled it just out of reach. You whined and retreated back into the nest. He tore off a bit of the fluffy breakfast item and held it in his mouth. He made a come here gesture with his finger and you obeyed and he prodded your mouth with the pancake which you gladly ate from his mouth and then kissed him. You hummed and climbed into his lap. He tore off another piece and fed you bit by bit until the first pancake was gone. There was two more in one of the containers. He looked at the pancakes then at you.
“We have some time before Midnight kicks the customers out. Why don’t we have some fun~.” He told you as a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. You smiled and nodded in agreement.
“Where do you want me?” You asked.
“Lay down for me, Y/N.” He instructed of you. You laid down and looked kept eye contact with him. He smirked and pushed the shirt up past your stomach.
“Still so pretty~. “He told you. He reached over to one of the pancakes and ripped it in half. He then tore up each of the halves into smaller pieces and trailed them up your legs. He took the extra maple syrup and trailed it up and down your legs. He sat back and admired the pretty picture in front of him. You blushed hard and nodded to give him approval to start. He laid down and started at your ankles. He licked the syrup that had dripped down and almost onto the floor. He sucked a bit and licked up to the piece of pancake and he ate it before kissing your shin. He licked up to the knee and ate the piece of pancake that was there before going up to the rest of the chunks of pancake that were on your thigh. He reached your hip and sucked a mark into the soft flesh of your hip before moving back down, starting at the ankle of your other leg. Shouta copied the same process with your other leg until he was panting over your lower area.
“Now, for my meal~.” He hummed and went down on you.
He had finished just as there was banging on his door.
“Hey Shouta! You gotta wrap it up in there. Midnight wants the customers out in ten!” A loud voice called from the other side of the door. Shouta groaned and pulled away from you.
“Go put a pair of my shorts on and follow me. I’ll carry you down to Midnight and tell her that you’re my mate.” He said as he helped you up to your feet and helped you to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of black shorts and helped you into them.
“There you go. Do you think you can walk?” He asked you. You shook you head no and he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist.  He kissed your cheek and carried you down to the main room which looked completely different than how it was the night before. You peeked out from under your hair and saw some of the others. You searched for your friend that should’ve been next to the fiery red head. He saw you and spoke.
“I sent your friend home when we were done. They should be fine.” He said and you relaxed. Shouta sat down with you in his lap next to a long-haired blonde that had the same voice as earlier. You recognized him as the DJ from last night. You hid your face in the crook of your mate’s neck as Midnight approached them all. She sat down and addressed them about what happened last night and reminded them some of the rules. Shouta held you tightly as she reminded the group about having the customers leaving before morning. Midnight’s eyes darted to Shouta and she smiled.
“I see that you finally found yourself a mate. You remember the terms that we decided on, right?” She asked. He nodded.
“I need help with moving my stuff into Y/N’s apartment down the street.” He asked.  A couple of the beefier men including the orca looking guy pitched in to help.
“When we’re done here the boys can help you.” Midnight said. A few of the other alphas in the room congratulated you and Shouta.  You blushed and hid your face in Shouta’s chest.
“I’m gonna go back up and get my stuff sorted.” Shouta told the group as he stood up and went back to his room.  He set you down in the nest before going about his room and sorting the small amount he had.  The loud blonde came up with some empty boxes and helped his friend pack his clothes and bedding. He walked back over to the nest and checked in on you a few times before he had to take the nest apart and leave you with the sleeping bag. When everything was packed, Shouta’s friend went down and came back with the bouncer from the night before and a new person that also had blonde hair. They helped carry the boxes and a couple pieces of furniture downstairs and out of the establishment. Shouta carried you in his sleeping bag after the other men. You led them to your apartment down the street and helped them inside. You instructed them where to put the boxes and furniture. They left soon after, leaving the two of you alone. He set you down on your bed and kissed you.
“Your place looks nice. I’ll go unpack. You rest, kitten.” He said as he kissed your head and left the room to go unpack. He dragged a box into your room where his dresser was and sorted the clothes back into the drawers as you slept. He wanted to stay close to you even now. He felt like he had to protect you. He could sense that you were pregnant even though you didn’t believe him. He finished sorting his clothes and went to the box of his bedding and made a nest around you. He slid in and held you close to his chest. He dozed off, now feeling safe in his new home and next to his new mate that he loved so dearly.  
Two weeks went by and you adjusted to your new life with your mate. You didn’t feel top notch though. You had nausea and fatigue. You didn’t want to move from the nest as the slightest movement would make you want to run to the bathroom and puke out your guts. You had developed the oddest cravings. One of your cravings was pickle juice as a brine for raw meat that you were craving. You also couldn’t seem to get enough pineapple juice, Gatorade, and milk. The smell of fish made you want to puke. Shouta was willing to get up at early hours when you would wake him when you had an intense craving for whatever you were craving that week. One afternoon, You, were sitting on the couch and devouring a tray of chicken nuggets with mac and cheese as Shouta came over and sat down next to you.
“Hey, Y/N? I wanna talk to you about something.” He told you.
“What is it?” You asked as you ate.  He looked at you with concern and spoke.
“Remember about two weeks ago when we met?” He asked you. You blushed and nodded.
“I think with all your recent cravings and nausea, I believe you’re pregnant.” He said smiling a bit.
“You really think so?” You asked as you finished your ramen and set the plate on the coffee table.
“Yes, I do. I went out and got a pregnancy test when I got the ice cream you requested.” He told you.
“Ok. Where is it?” You asked.
“On the bathroom counter.” He told you. You got up with some help and went to the bathroom to take the test. Shouta stood as well and took your plate into the kitchen to wash it. You came out a few minutes later and showed him the positive test. He picked you up and held you close. The both of you were happy and excited. Shouta kissed you and knelt down to your stomach that was showing the slightest bit.  He kissed your stomach and hugged you.
“Thank you, Y/n. I am very happy. You have helped me with that. I love you so much.” He told you and kissed you again.
“I will go set up a doctor’s appointment for later this week.” You spoke. He nodded and told you that he wanted to go with you to the appointments.  You set up an appointment and he made a special dinner for the both of you to celebrate. He pulled you close when you had finished setting up the appointment and held you close to his chest.
“C’mon. I made us dinner.” He said and led you to the bedroom where a pizza was laid out on the bed. He had redone the nest and climbed in. He helped you in and he shared a pizza with you. The two of you spent the rest of the evening dreaming of the future and what it would hold for the both of you.
 The end.
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glowingbadger · 3 years
Note
Ok I saw arranged marriage content so let's take this over to Fire Emblem Fates with Xander!! I am still weak lol
I am legit so hyped that a bunch of you have really latched onto the arranged marriage concept lol I've been having a ton of fun with it. That said, man, I feel like I struggled with this one .-. I ended up just leaning into my desire to write about sucking Daddy Xander's cock, so here we are.
Xander (FE: Fates) x AFAB Reader - arranged marriage
NSFW 18+ v
Your wedding ceremony to the now-King of Nohr had been performed in tandem with his coronation in the scramble to re- stabilize the country. The people had their King, and now they had their Queen, and the promise of a continued royal bloodline that came with your union. And yet the reality of your situation had not taken full hold in your mind.
You'd met the Crown Prince a handful of times before the ceremony. He had an undeniably regal bearing about him- a stoic, masculine sort of dignity. He was polite towards you, if perhaps a little aloof. Though, you wondered if that was merely the difference in culture between your nations. Upon meeting him, you were predominantly relieved that he didn't seem to be a brute like Nohr's prior infamous ruler. Not to mention... He was, admittedly, quite handsome.
But now, the obligatory festivities of the day have concluded, and you've been led to your new bedchambers in the castle that was to be your home. Maids undress you, relieving you of layers upon layers of the frilled and laced fabrics that represent the latest Nohrian fashions. As nimble hands free you from heavy skirts, it gradually begins to dawn on you: you will be expected to bear and heir for King Xander, and sooner rather than later. Your face warms at the thought, and though one of the maids asks if you're feeling well, you wave her away and attempt to approach the idea with all of the easy dignity and poise that would be expected of the Queen of Nohr.
And yet... you realize that the thought of your Lord Husband claiming you wasn't an unappealing one by any means. Surely, as King, he would take you at his leisure, with the expectation that you provide for him in pleasure and in sons.
The maids leave you in what you can only hope is specially selected bridal lingerie (you can't imagine having to wear this elaborate arrangement of white lace each and every night). You're only granted a few minutes to survey the room- the flickering amber light of the candles, books piled neatly on a well-used desk, luxurious yet tasteful curtains and bedsheets. Before long, the heavy oaken door opens, and you're alone with your husband for the first time.
He looks... surprised? His eyes scan your body, decorated with frills and sheer fabric, and you can't be sure in the dim candlelight, but you could swear his complexion reddens.
He says your name, rather stiffly. You nod.
"My Lord Husband." you reply. He runs a hand through curling blonde hair, exhaling softly, then seems to regain himself. He begins to undress, loosing the cravat at his throat, and then pauses to say,
"I- I hope you don't mind terribly-"
"Of course not." You say with a smile. You approach him, and, as you imagine you're expected to do, you help him to remove his clothing. Light brushes of your fingers across his body cause you both to burn inside and out, but neither of you object or pull away. Until, at last, he's left only in a fitted white undershirt and black trousers.
Without a word, you lower onto your knees before him. You hear him inhale sharply, then murmur your name with an odd rasp in his voice. Your hands run up his thighs to the growing bulge at the front of his pants, palming it gently on your way to the hem. When you tug down his clothing, his cock springs free, already quite hard and flushed dark with need. Evidently, the lingerie that had been selected for you was quite to his liking. You can't help but appreciate the sight of his manhood standing tall mere inches from your lips. Then, as you lean in to take him in your mouth, a gentle hand strokes your hair, encouraging you to instead glance upward at Xander's eyes.
"Y/N, you... you are not obligated to... that is to say-"
"Do you not want this...?" You ask, eyes wide, and perhaps innocent if not for how they kept darting back to his hardened length hovering before you.
"I- I quite evidently do want it- want you," he stammers out, his face burning a dark crimson, "But to prostrate yourself at my feet is-"
"Xander," you say, surprised at the warmth in your own voice. Your hands cling to the front of his clothing, and when you speak, your breath unwittingly brushes the head of his cock, "I... would like to please my husband, if you'll have me."
You detect the barest hint of a stifled groan as you finally wrap your lips around the warm, bulging head of his manhood. It responds immediately despite Xander's attempts at restraint, pulsing eagerly against your mouth's grip. Slowly, you ease down his shaft, squeezing the tip between your tongue and the roof of your mouth, sucking rhythmically as you work down his length. His cock continues to betray his pleasure, twitching and swelling out against the wet warmth around it. By the time the head prods against the back of your throat, his hands are stroking your hair once more.
"Y/N, I... Nngh..." His head tilts back, and you detect the slightest little motions of his hips, pushing the tip of his cock into the wonderfully tight heat of your throat, "I had hoped to be better to you," he says so softly you're not even sure he intends for the words to reach you, "To use you in such a way... is... unforgiveable..."
You force yourself down to the base of his shaft, taking the full size of his member, struggling to keep your throat open enough not to gag. Xander groans above you, yet his guilt is evident even in this sound of absolute pleasure. Slowly, so that he can savor the sensation, you pull away from him, your lips sucking tight around him every inch until your release him. You glance up, and he's panting slightly, looking down at you with lust only barely restrained.
Speaking his name gently once more, you rise to your feet and bring a hand to the strong contour of his jawline. You're not sure what gives you the courage, but you ask,
"Are you nervous?"
Xander laughs, though it sounds much more like a sigh. He takes your hand in his and kisses the palm.
"In a way, yes. You were given to me like the spoils of war," he says, brow furrowed "to claim your body would make me no better than some pillaging bandit."
So that's what this is about.
"Pardon me for saying, your Highness," you say with a hint of a smile, "But I think you're underestimating what I would have done to put a stop to this all, had I not admired you the way I do." You lean close to him and add, "So... please, Xander?"
His hands cup your face and he meets you with an intensely scrutinizing gaze.
"Do you mean that, my Queen?"
"Yes," you say breathlessly. Then, his lips are on yours, and his strong arms wrap under your backside and lift you up against him. It finally occurs to you that he truly does have a warrior's physique, despite his regal bearing, but you have little time to muse on this before he's laid you on his bed and crawled atop you on all fours. It's like you've released a long-dormant beast; Xander kisses you with a passion and desperation you would have never dreamed possible from him at your first meeting. His hands are everywhere, though you notice he makes no effort to remove the lingerie you still wear. Instead, his touch lingers at the places where the clingy garments squeeze your flesh- the swell of your thighs, the curve of your backside.
He ducks downward and his lips immediately find your nipples, hard and straining against flimsy sheer material. His saliva darkens the fabric as he sucks at the sensitive buds, pulsing his lips and tongue against you like he's starved for you. Your fingers weave into golden hair and you throw back your head on the pillow. Then, you feel his cock grinding against your silken panties, pressing into you hard enough that the tip is soon buried between your pussy lips despite the barrier of clothing. Your body responds in kind, rutting against him in search of any kind of relief. A low moan rumbles in Xander's chest, and he says against your skin,
"I beg that you forgive me..."
You almost laugh, but your head is spinning and you can barely focus enough to respond with,
"For... for what?"
"For not trusting in your decision, for one," he says, and his hands slide down your sides to your hips, "for not being forthright with my doubts, for another," his fingers hook into the fabric of your underwear and begin to tug them down your thighs, "and one more in advance, in case I am too rough with you tonight."
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tu-sugar-mami · 3 years
Text
You're an exchange student part 2:
You can read the first part here
You sit awkwardly on a gigantic chair while holding a lukewarm, barely touched cup of tea with both of your hands. Your back is straight and your shoulders are tense. You're starting to feel a bit sore after being still for a long time but you can't bring yourself to move.
After the incident with the first cultist —or what you still think is a cultist, the redhead girl— the tall lady took away your bug repelent and lighter along with your backpack, putting them on the top row of a nearby shelf where she was sure your little hands wouldn't reach.
If you're honest, you're not sure how you ended up sitting in the chair in front of the gigantic fireplace with many heavy comforters on you providing much needed warmth, feeling like an unexpected but not unwelcomed guest instead of the next sacrifice, but truly you're not complaining. This is thousand times better than to die outside from the cold.
As you sit there innocently waiting for the next important thing to happen, you can see that the two young women who arrived after you are exchanging a few words with Miss Tall Lady while taking off their coats to reveal several layers of winter clothes underneath. It's strange to you, but you pay it no mind. Every person takes different to the cold, after all.
The tall lady starts pacing back and forth in front of you heatedly talking, glancing at you once or twicce, and it's not hard for you to notice the strain and exasperation in her tone. Whatever she's saying sounds serious, but you can only make out a few words like 'offering' 'wrong' and 'mistake'.
Not knowing what to respond your find yourself distracted by the decor. Your eyes roaming every detail of the chiseled fireplace, taking in the most fine of the details. Then, is the stairwell that catches you attention and you can't help but to think it would be a great place to slide on a cardboard box.
"Are you listening to me?" A commanding voice and a snap of fingers brings your wandering mind down from the clouds and your neck snaps to face the woman. Her eyes are a beautiful golden, and you can't believe you didn't notice before.
"Your eyes are mesemerizing..." You say in your language, breathless, the words slipping past your lips almost as in a trance. Your gaze goes a bit down and your fingers twitch with a sudden desire to run them over those blood-red lips and feel for yourself if they are as soft as they look.
Miss Tall Lady looks thrown off by the foreign accent in your voice. It's definitely one she hadn't have the pleasure of hearing before and somehow makes her pause. Her mind might be playing tricks on her but why did whatever you said felt like some kind of compliment?
"Mother?" One of the young women from before asks tentatively. You don't know if you're right but you think the girls are the woman's daughters.
"Take this one to the library. I will follow shortly." Miss Tall Lady says before hurriedly walking away, though without losing her lady-like grace. Your eyes follow an hypnothic sway of hips going up the stairs before you sense a hand being extended towards you, expecting.
"Teacup, please." A blonde, very polite-looking young lady says. You jump a bit in your seat and inevitably blush, thinking for a moment you were caught in your respecful percieving, but to your relief the woman in front of you didn't seem to notice that.
"Uh..." You're not sure what Miss Blonde wants, but judging by the look she's giving you, you suppose she wants to greet you formally, so you do what any other civilized person would do. "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you, miss." You say as you properly position the teacup in your left hand and with your right you shake hers. She's taken aback, but after a second of hesitation a smile breaks and graces her face.
A pair of loud laughs sound from behind the blonde. The young woman with the dark hair approaches you both from the side with an amused grin. "I like this one, Bels."
"An odd one indeed." Miss Blonde replies.
The last one of the unusual trio approaches on the other side of the blonde, the redhead you knocked out earlier. She looks at you intently. "Just so you know, no one besides mother sends me to sleep without consecuenses, little one." and punctuates her statement with a boop to your nose.
"Yes, yes, you'll get your revenge later, Daniela. Let's not keep Mother waiting." You're hoisted up by the hand. The warm comforters falling off your back and piling on the big chair, instantly making you shiver with the lack of heat. The three women walk away and you have no other option than to follow them.
The door is opened and inside you find yourelf gaping at the amount of books stacked on the big shelves. You can count with one hand the times you've been in a house that has its own library, but this one by far takes the cake. "Can i grab a book?" You ask to Miss Dark Hair, pointing to one of the nearestt bookshelves while giving your trademark Puppy Eyes.
"What? You want to read?"
"Book." You say, pointing again insistently to the bottom row of antique books.
"Sure, go have your fun while Mother arrives." Miss Blonde nods and you waste no time to grab the fattest, heaviest book of them all and sit on the floor with your legs crossed, only to sigh in dissapointment as the book is in a language you yet again can't understand. But as you flip the pages you can see that it has very depicting images of old eras that you find fascinating.
You don't notice the time passing as you 'read' undisturbingly, until a big hand is placed on your shoulder and you almost jump out of yor skin, closing the book with a snap, effectively losing the page where the images told you the process to make soap.
"Someone's been studying, i see." The Tall Lady from before stands before you in all her height and you cand help but to rake your gaze all over that goddess until you reach her eyes, not without your flushed face at the end. "So, i brought you here for a reason." She says while her hand motions you to stand. "Here at the Dimitrescu Castle we are in possesion of many doors to knowledge, which does include many books that offer some insight about other countries along with their tongues." You're nodding along whatever she's saying, not a single word ringing a bell in your understanding but to you it would be impolite to leave her hanging. Tall Lady stops in her tracks, in front of a very dusty bookshelf with even older books. Her hand goes from side to side selecting several books which she then hands to you.
You eye the books curiously and you notice that they're a vast collections of translating dictionaries, all varying in length and language. You kneel and start looking through them, being mindful of the most antique and delicate ones. You spot a thin one but with a very familiar dialect and you look up to give Tall Lady a toothy smile. "This one is! Uh... Wait, let's see." You open the book and look through the content searching for words. You stand and motion the lady to lean a bit and start pointing words.
'Student.'
'Cold.'
'Lost'
'Thankful."
As you keep making sense with the few words you're provided, the expression on the lady's face changes to a one of understanding and pity. She pulls out a very fancy-looking pair of glasses out from who knows where and takes the book from your hands, flipping through it's pages, looking for words of her own.
'Stay.'
'Dinner.'
'Sleep.'
'Rest.'
She points word by word and you get the hint. You nod eagerly and smile. Tall Lady smiles back at you and for a second there you feel your heart paralize. You could have sworn you saw a pair of unusually long canines on that pearly white smile. But surely you're just tired, right?
"Daniela, please take our guest to one of the spare rooms." The lady says gesturing to the red-haired young woman.
"Yes, Mother." And the next thing you know your being lead by the arm out of the room.
Once you're gone the tall lady's whole demeanor changes to one of anger and she let's out a frustrated sigh. "The nerve of those villagers. To send a foreigner as the monthly offering! No wonder why the man-thing you brought was insisting it was a mistake."
"They're not respecting the deal, Mother. Should i make them understand who they're dealing with?"
The Tall Lady's pointer finger rests on her lips as she thinks. "No. I'd like to have a word with the leader." She put the book on a the nearrest table with a bit too much force, snapping the poor table in half. "Bela, bring him to me."
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Part two is up. Less comedy, more plot. This isn't planned to be long so maybe this will only have one or two more chapters.
@thejennystuttle
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gotnofucks · 4 years
Text
Special Training
Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader
Summary: Steve takes special interest in your training
Words: 2k
Warning: Non-con, authority abuse, smut, very slight breeding kink, language, 18+ ONLY
A/N: dedicated to the sweet girl who doesn’t want to be named. She wanted some tough love for daddy Steve...hope you like it hon
MASTERLIST
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You ducked at the last moment, rolling under your opponent’s legs and grabbing them as you stood up. The body fell on the mat behind you with a thud, and you panted as the buzzer finally went away. Dropping down next to the fallen comrade you blinked the sweat away from your eyes, hand reaching out to pat his back.
“You alright man?” You asked and he nodded with a strained groan.
“Damn Y/n, you keep getting stronger every day. I bet you’ll be taken in the team very soon.” He commented and you smiled. Getting into Avengers was a dream, but the training for it was a bitch. Hours after hours of slaving away in the gym and field, dodging punches, and bullets until you prove your metal.
“Thanks Nico, I hope you’re right.” You said and helped him stand up.
“Dude, you don’t need to worry. Your punch is as strong as –”
You stopped listening to Nico then, body tensing as you saw him approaching you. The training gear he had on defined every muscle on his body, and you gulped when his eyes locked yours in place. Nico followed your gaze and broke off, pulling off an awkward salute.
“Captain!” He greeted, blushing at his obvious eagerness. Every new trainee wanted to please the Captain, wanted to get noticed to increase their chances of selection. Steve’s face remained emotionless as he regarded you both, nodding once in acknowledgment.
“Agents, done for the day?” He asked and you both nodded, hands behind your backs and shoulders straight. He hummed and handed a sheet of paper to Nico. “You’re being transferred to Sargent Barnes’ training group Agent, you’ll report to him from tomorrow.”
Nico didn’t question the decision, simply agreed. One doesn’t argue with Steve Rogers, not if they wanted to stay on his right side. People may call him the kindest man they had met, but he didn’t accept any cheek on the field. He worked his agents hard, challenged them until they almost dropped dead. He made them sweat until they had shed every last layer of what Steve found problematic before accepting them. Most agents under him didn’t make it very far for they either quit under pressure or asked for a transfer under some other trainer.
Currently, only five people were under Steve’s command, including you. Well, four, now that Nico was being transferred. You had a hunch what prompted this, and you didn’t fancy knowing if your assumptions are correct.
“You’re dismissed. Agent Y/n, stay. We must have a word.”
Nico left the room without a backward glance and you fidgeted under Steve’s gaze until the door shut behind Nico. His eyes were so intense you almost couldn’t meet them, and once you did, they never let you look away.
“Come” He ordered and led you out the back door. It was a silent journey to his office, the sounds of your feet slapping the floor echoing around the hall. His huge form looked so big he seemed to dwarf the whole place and you gulped in nervousness. He let you enter first, shutting the door behind him and locking it securely though you knew no one would dare enter without knocking.
“On the desk” He said but before you could move yourself, he was already picking you up and depositing you over his work desk. Papers crinkled under you, but he gave them no notice, eyes rivetted to you.
“Captain” You whispered, and his hands were in your hair, pulling harshly to tilt your head so he could capture your mouth in a searing kiss. You whimpered, his tongue swirling in your mouth and hands tugging.
“What have I told you about calling me when we’re alone baby?” He asked in a husky voice and you pathetically sniffled.
“Steve” You replied, and his lips moved to your neck.
“And?”
“Stevie”
“And?”
“Daddy”
He took your hand in his, placing a kiss on your palm before moving it to the front of his pants. Squeezing himself through you, he let out a moan in your neck, humping against you.
“That’s right, say it again”
“Daddy, please.” You said and his gaze darkened, lips capturing yours harshly again. It was all teeth and tongue, hands squeezing tight. Your hands were around his arm, useless against his strength. His breath was fanning your cheek and you felt one of his hands pull the drawstrings of your tracks.
“You’re getting so good I think I need to train you exclusively. One on one” He said, and you shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. You didn’t know how you caught the Captain’s eyes, or why he was so fixated with you. But you couldn’t take anymore of this. This was blatant abuse of authority and you were stuck with it. Who could you complain to? Who would even believe you?
“Please don’t. I want to train with my friends.” You plead and Steve chuckled darkly, hands hooking into the waistband of your tracks and pulling them down. He rubbed his cheek on yours, the slight stubble scratching you and making you quiver.
“Friends, is that what was happening with you and that pathetic boy out there?” He snarked and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your legs were bare, and he stepped between them, gathering you close so his hardness rubbed against your clothed center.
“We were only training. Honest.”
He humped you, leaving open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and covered breasts.
“You can forget about him or any other man from now on. I don’t want any hands touching you unless its me.”
He raised your eyes to meet his, delicately wiping the tears away. You sobbed, eyes anguished and troubled.
“Please Steve, don’t do this. I – I just want to be a good soldier. I don’t want this, I never did”
Your words didn’t even make him bat an eyelid, instead, he dipped his hand between your thighs, pushing aside your damp panty and feeling you. As his fingers probed you, a mortified mewl escaped your lips, your heart breaking at the unwanted sensations forcefully administered.
“You don’t want it? Baby, you’re weeping for me. Why can’t your heart accept what your body did all those months ago?”
You rested your head on his chest, tired and so helpless. The smoothness with which his fingers entered you made you ashamed. How could you be a good agent if you could not control your own body’s reaction. Steve could play you however you want, he could make your howl despite protests flowing from your mouth. He didn’t care if you pushed him away, for he was so much more stronger. He took you without consent, just like he’s doing now.
Holding you around the waist, he carried you to his chair, sitting down. He fumbled with his own pants, finally pulling out his thick cock that he forced into your hands. You stroked, more out of habit than anything. He had trained you well in the ways of pleasure. He taught you what he liked, regardless if you wanted to or not.
“Inside baby, I want to be inside you now.” He hissed as he pushed instinctively in your palm. You positioned him below your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. A broken cry escaped you, the initial stretch still hurting despite how many times he had taken you. Your moans mixed with sniffles, heat surrounding you as you bounced on him, slowly, finding your rhythm. He held you close, intimately close, and extremely possessive.
He rutted into you, meeting you for every thrust, hitting your spot each time. His hands plucked at your nipples, your clit been mashed between a thumb and finger and soon you were falling, crying out around him. He didn’t let up and pushed into your limp body, going almost feral. You could feel every inch of him, sliding in and out of you. You could feel his sweat mixing with yours underneath your butt, you could feel like stench settling in your pores and making you his.
“So good baby girl, so good. Come on, give daddy another one.” He said and you shook your head, too exhausted. He didn’t care about the soft no’s your muttered, he didn’t care about your legs that trembled around him. He rammed into you with abandon, grunts leaving his mouth and hitting your damp skin. He pinched your clit and the coil inside you tightened, you tried to push away, you pleaded, yet he kept up until your sensitive flesh was almost painful. With one hard, almost brutal thrust, you came undone again, falling apart one more time as he followed you.
He weakly pushed up even as he softened, hugging your body to his. The golden hair on his head were plastered to his sweaty forehead, tickling your nose as he kissed you, teeth pulling at your lip and then letting it snap away. His cum was dripping down around you, and yet he didn’t pull out. He would let it cool on your skin, dry into flakes as a symbol of his ownership. You cried, tears streaming down and he bent down to lick them away.
“It doesn’t need to be difficult Y/n. You’re mine, you were mine since the moment you entered the compound. You only need to accept it.” Steve said, his hand rubbing your back to sooth you.
“Please, I can’t take it anymore. This is wrong.”
His hands cupped your face, rubbing your plump and red cheeks softly. The blue in his eyes drowned you, a cesspool from which it was impossible to escape.
“Baby, you don’t need to worry. Daddy is going to take good care of you. You want to be an avenger, don’t you? I’m gonna make you one.” He promised you and you shook your head. You didn’t want to be in the team because you laid on your back and opened you legs for him. Not like this.
“Please Steve, just let me go. You know I won’t tell anyone. Please.”
He sighed as if you were a silly child who was taking too long to understand two plus two made four. He patted your head patronizingly, rubbing his nose to yours and pecking you almost affectionately.
“Y/n, you can be so cute.” He mocked. “It’s amazing how you think I will ever let anyone, or anything take you away from me. You’re mine, now and forever. Nothing will change that, ever.”
He pulled out of you, pulling your soiled panties back into place. He didn’t even need to instruct you now to not wash his essence away. You knew he would be back later tonight, sneaking in your room to inspect and take you again. No matter what you did, you would never be able to shake him off.
You both dressed and he pulled you back into his lap for his customary after-sex cuddle. He was tender, trying to soften you to him but it only sickened you more. He had inserted himself in every part of your life. Everywhere you went, you saw him. Your own body smelled more like him than yours.
“If I see you with that Agent or another man again, I’ll have the doctor remove the hormonal implant from your arm to show everyone you’re mine.” Steve warned, his hand rubbing over your belly. Your heart thudded painfully, the threat of a pregnancy worse than anything else. Not only will you never escape him, but your dreams of being an Avenger would be over. You nodded, letting him know you understand, and he kissed your head.
“Don’t worry baby, you’ll come around. I will fuck the acceptance into you.” He said and you closed your eyes when he started rocking you, resigned to your fate.
Taglist:
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Protected : (dark!Peter x reader) literally adding this link everywhere hoping this would work for maybe some of you.
@shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @littlegasps @what-is-your-wish @bluemusickid
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assaily · 3 years
Text
I thought about saving this one, but i’ve been sharing it around for a while, so i may as well share it here, too.
Context: Allison and Diego borrow some empathy powers and use them to try and gain some insight on Five
Allison sipped her coffee for lack of anything better to do. She dallied for a time, unsure how to proceed, suddenly aware of the heavy weight that clung to them, and wondered if this was normal. It could have been exhaustion, considering the dark shadows beneath Five’s eyes. It felt deeper than just a bad night of sleep. This was what she’d been afraid of, what she was fully expecting to find and now found herself feeling diminished beneath.
“You hungry?” she asked when Five finished his coffee.
“No,” Five answered, the question hardly a blip on his radar.
“I could eat,” Diego said. Five usually said no to the offer of food unless it was put in front of him. He couldn’t resist once it was there, thankfully, so this little dance of two siblings pretending to cook for each other and secretly cooking for Five was not new. If Five himself noticed, he never said anything about it.
Allison got up from the table, snatching Five’s mug from beneath his fingers. He had been mindlessly tracing the rim and was genuinely startled from his thoughts when Allison took it from him. He said nothing, attention suddenly on her like a scalpel. She wasn’t sure if it was the power or her own imagination that made his scrutiny feel sharper than usual. She set a skillet to heat and refilled Five’s cup before taking it back to the table for him.
Suspicion burned at the hairs on her arms and she took a step back to meet Five’s piercing gaze. “What?” she asked.
“You’re being nice,” he muttered, an observation and a question rolled into one. He wanted to know why, he wanted to know what she wanted.
“Nothing,” she reassured without thinking. “I mean,” she corrected quickly when Diego gave her a sharp look. “I’m just feeling weird and you look tired. I miss my daughter,” she admitted, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
Five blinked, something swirling around them at her admittance, a little like irritation, a lot like muted affection. “I’m not your kid, Allison, you don’t need to dote on me.”
She smiled around the confusing mix dusting the room. “Refilling your coffee is hardly doting,” she replied in a daze.
He shrugged, eyes falling down from her, the sharp focus softening at last. He took a sip of the coffee and it tasted like acceptance. She turned back to the fridge, fighting a smile as she pulled the sausages from the top shelf and added them to the pan. Soon the kitchen was filled with the sounds of sizzling and the smell of food; the anxiety had eased into something quiet and tired and easy to ignore.
She whisked eggs in a bowl, added milk and cheese and cooked it in the same pan as the sausage drippings once they’d finished. She divvied the food up on three plates and set them on the table. The whole meal took her less than twenty minutes, hardly any trouble at all but it felt good to do something for them. It soured when a flood of dread and disgust spilled across the table the moment she put the plate in front of Five. Her movements stuttered, taken by surprise, hesitating to watch him spear a sausage with the fork and nibble on one end like he hadn’t felt anything.
She exchanged a look with Diego, who’d paused mid-bite to watch Five as well.
Irritation suddenly simmered between them, a striking indecisiveness between anger and the urge to flee, anxiety washing over them again. It happened so fast, her and Diego nearly drowned in it. She put her own plate down before she dropped it, and moved to sit. The scrape of the chair on the floor was like someone physically hitting her.
“Five,” she said, her voice swimming.
Diego put down his fork, food untouched, and reached across the table to put a hand on Five’s shoulder. The old man vanished in a pop of light and reappeared by the counter next to the coffee pot. He poured himself another cup, his body lax and his movements smooth in sharp contrast to swirl of indignant rage pounding at the walls.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you too, but I don’t want to be involved.” He took a long slurp from the coffee, turning to regard them over the rim of it. “Play your games with someone else.” And with that he disappeared in a pop of light, leaving behind the traces of bitter irritation.
-
“Maybe it was breakfast?”
“What was wrong with eggs and sausage?” Diego asked.
Allison had no idea. Five was a bit weird about food, but she supposed surviving a few decades in an apocalypse could mess with someone’s ability to have a healthy relationship with eating. He was so skinny, and seemed to get skinnier every day. It was a challenge getting him to eat.
“Maybe he doesn’t like them.”
“Does Five like anything?” Diego asked. “Besides coffee.”
“Fluffernutters,” Allison said. It was the only thing she’d ever seen him choose for himself, besides the time he pilfered all the canned peaches from the cupboards and Klaus found them stashed under his bed. “Fruit?”
For lunch Allison asked Mom to chop up a fruit salad. Five emerged from his room around eleven a.m. like clockwork, usually for coffee. He arrived in the kitchen through one his rips, immediately splashing the room with an emotion that tasted like gunmetal. Allison couldn’t describe it other than dark, sardonic, and irritable. It twisted with the bleeding rawness she had felt earlier. 
Five stopped in the doorway, dread spilling forth when he saw her and Diego waiting for him. And he knew they’d been waiting, she could feel him realize it, suspicion mixing with the dread. He scowled at them, a classically abrasive Five expression that she wouldn’t have blinked twice at yesterday.
It was surreal feeling the tumult underneath it.
Five went for the coffee. “Is there a reason you two are still here?”
“We live here,” Diego said.
“Don’t you have a job?” He said to Diego, voice and intonation both sharp and accusing.
“It’s my day off.”
“So you spend it sitting around the kitchen? What a productive use of your time.”
“Oh yeah?” Diego asked, temper flaring predictably. “What do you do around here all day? Huh?”
A bitterness, dark and sharp, encased the room like tar, bubbling with frustration and a delicately muted rage that felt utterly ancient. There was something there Allison wasn’t quite seeing, something deeper than whatever foul mood he was in.
“Why are you mad, Five?” Allison cut the tension like a knife, going against the grain.
“I’m not angry,” Five said, most definitely defending himself.
“You came down here and immediately started picking a fight,” she pointed out, watching his eyes dart from her to Diego and back again, caught out. 
He scoffed, glancing down at the coffee cup in his hand, and she felt him switch at the realization. “Oh,” he said, folding inward on himself. Anger still shimmered off him, but it felt like he was trying to pull it back in, drink it down with the bitter burn of coffee in his throat. “The math is being uncooperative,” he gestured above his head in the general direction of his room several floors above them.
“Well you don’t have to take it out on us, you ass,” Diego said, his voice forgiving despite his words.
Shame descended like a fog, settling like an ache against her breast bone. She gestured at the table, desperate to dissipate that cloud. “Mom made fruit.”
Five glanced at her from beneath his bangs but latched onto the change in subject. “Made, huh?”
“She didn’t ‘make’ the fruit, she cut it up though. Do you want some?”
There was a bubble of emotions that came up in the form of hesitation, it was old and complicated and Allison didn’t know how to sift through it fast enough to make any sense of it. Five pursed his lips, shrugged one shoulder and stepped over, holding his coffee in one hand casually. He considered the medley, genuinely perusing the selection, which was more than she could say for breakfast. He chose a pitted peach, cut in half, pulling it from the mix with slender fingers.
“That’s all?”
“Hmm?” he paused, dropping the peach-half back into the salad.
“You can take more,” she felt compelled to inform him.
“I know,” he said, which struck her for the lie it was. She had to swallow that quickly lest it show on her face.
“Get a bowl, take as much as you want.” He could take the whole damn thing, if it pleased him, and none of them would stop him or even admonish him.
The prickle of suspicion resurfaced, and he withdrew his hand away from the bowl, staring at her. His eyes flicked to Diego, mistrust wafting up like a foul smell. He leaned back, straightening to his full height and it was like a veil descended over him, and him alone. A muting of everything, like a layer of cloud, fog, or smoke that socked him in, pushing them out. He took a sip of his coffee, still watching them, before vanishing again in a pop of light.
Diego sighed, deflating next to her. “You can’t push directly, you keep spooking him.”
She groaned in frustration, pillowing her face on her arms on the table. “And here I thought this would be easier than trying to guess.”
She startled up when a returning pop announced Five’s re-arrival. He landed inches from the table wielding a knife from god knows where, which he used to spear several large pieces of fruit. He vanished again without pretense, leaving her stunned and blinking. 
From somewhere upstairs, peach flavored delight bloomed on her tongue.
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pockydays · 3 years
Text
unravel me
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⤷ characters: tsukishima x gn!reader
⤷ synopsis: in which you notice tsukishima struggling to peel the tape off his fingers during study hall. what you didn’t notice, however, was how much he had the ability to find his way into every aspect of your life, until it was too late.
⤷ word count: 6.3k (longest fic to date woohoo!)
⤷ contains: fluff, slight angst, acquaintances to friends to lovers (?), mild language, my (insanely) wordy writing
⤷ a/n: i’m not even lying this took me weeks to write and it’s my baby :] most of the dialogue in this is probably hot shit but if you enjoyed please leave a like/reblog :3: mwah mwah ily all thank you for being patient with my slow ass <3 and thank you to my dear friend abby for beta reading the first chunk of this story, if you read this ily <3
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You've always considered yourself as someone who wasn't especially generous. But you weren’t incredibly selfish, either. You were in some sort of grey area, too indifferent to care about what society says about people who aren't willing to go so far as to sell their souls to the devil for the common good. But you weren't heartless, either. You cared, usually out of mutual convenience. Isn't that what everyone does? Ninety-nine percent of the time, helping others (undeniably) involves genuinely good intentions, but they coexist with selfish motives as well. Then what about that one percent?
That one percent, in fact, came to you in the most inconspicuous of times: during mid-day study hall.
You found yourself going through the motions of your everyday routine: walking into the classroom, saying hi to your friend in the third row, putting your bag on the desk, pulling out your chair, sitting down, taking out your notebook and pencils, and waiting for approximately thirty-nine seconds until a (supposedly attractive, or at least according to whispers among your female classmates, which was bold of them to assume that he even liked girls in that way — you weren’t one to burst their bubbles) tall blond guy with glasses walked through the door, and greet him with a nonchalant "hey" and a wave.
And after that, if he responded with a slightly snarkier tone than usual, you knew he was having an especially bad day (more likely than not, it was because of the volleyball teammates he often complained about). But as for the real reason why, your guess was as good as anybody else's. He probably had piss in his Cheerios every morning and his trousers in a twist until the end of time for all you knew.
But today was slightly different than usual. For one, a full minute had already passed after you took out your pencils and yesterday’s chemistry notes, and there was still no sign of him. For some unknown reason, you couldn't stop the worry gnawing its way into your conscience. You rested your chin in one hand and drummed your fingers on the desk with the other, trying not to think about your classmate with a sharp tongue and a glare that could kill. Of course, trying to not think about something is a form of thinking about it, so that didn’t exactly work out.
The bell suddenly rang, jolting you out of your thoughts as well as your seat. Tsukishima Kei was now officially late, according to the school rules. Thankfully, your study hall advisor was lenient and understanding enough to not mark anybody late if they arrived within a reasonable time as to not tarnish their transcript, but you knew Tsukishima well enough to know that he wouldn’t care about a single unsavory comment that would only have the slightest potential to alarm admissions officers in those money-hungry institutions.
That was one thing you admired about your classmate. His ability to judge what things to put his effort into and selectively choose what he could get away with doing half-assed was unparalleled. As far as you could tell, volleyball was something he didn’t deem as worthy to put his all into. You weren’t usually wrong in such judgements about people, but then again, you’d only been right, let’s say, a total of three out of three times. You weren’t sure if it was considered a really good or really bad track record, so you’d always kept those sort of assumptions to yourself.
“Not going to say hi to me today? That’s awfully rude of you,” a voice said, out of the blue. You tense, wondering who had the audacity to call you rude.
“What?” you asked incredulously before you could realize where the voice came from. “Oh, it’s you,” you said, recognizing his inhumanly tall frame and the pair of white headphones around his neck. I should’ve guessed; of course only he’s brash enough to say something like that. 
You rested your chin in your hands again, the tension in your body visibly dissipating. You were glad that it was just Tsukishima and not some other person, because they would be a pain in the ass to deal with. Plus, he was just about the only person you allowed to speak without a filter; one, because it’s fun verbally sparring with him, and two, it makes his stunned silence after you counter with an especially witty phrase all the more satisfying.
This time, though, he sat down at the desk to your left without a word. Usually, he would never pass up the chance to have another round of firing tasteful insults at you. Today was indeed slightly different than usual. 
As he clicked the top of his mechanical pencil, you couldn’t help but notice a flash of white one his hands out of the corner of your eye. Did he always have that on his hands or was I just horribly unobservant before?
Leaning over to his seat at a dangerous angle, you asked, “Hey, what’s up with your fingers? You have leprosy or something?” in hopes of lightening his supposedly gloomy mood.
“Shut up,” he muttered irritably. “If I had leprosy, my fingers would’ve fallen off by now and I would’ve put one in your lunch as a keepsake,” he added. Shifting away from you in his chair, he tried as much as possible to make his (in your opinion, unconventionally lanky) body as far away as possible from your general vicinity.
“Okay, okay, geez! At least tell me, because now I’m curious and it’s all your fault.”
“If I tell you, will you stop bothering me?” he asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Maaybee...?” you replied slowly, trying to find an answer when a simple “yes” or “no” didn’t suffice.
“If you’re not going to stop bothering me, then I don’t have a reason to tell you, so no,” he frowned, crossing his arms self-righteously.
“Alright then, keep your secrets, mister. I don’t care whether you tell me or not.” Which wasn’t completely the truth, since some tiny part of your conscience thought that wrestling the answer from him was for the better. “But just know that I’ll continue to be my annoying self, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, you turned your attention back to your chemistry notes.
A few silent minutes passed before you leaned back over to his desk on the left.
“Hey mister, do you have some pencil lead? I think I ran out,” you whispered to Tsukishima.
He heaved what you thought was the biggest sigh in the universe before responding, “Point-five or point-seven?”
“Tsukishima, you wound me! I thought you knew that I write exclusively in point-five!” you exclaimed with a hand over your chest, feigning offense. 
He rolled his eyes, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him count out three pieces of lead. Three, that’s generous, you think to yourself as you suppress a small smile.
“Thanks, mister,” you whispered as you plucked the delicate sticks of graphite from his fingers. Taking a quick glance at his hands, you noticed that his fingers were wrapped in some sort of adhesive tape. Before Tsukishima could catch you looking for too long and make some snarky remark about how absolutely positively beautiful his hands were for you to be staring, you abruptly turn back to your notes and refill your (actually already lead-filled) pencil. If he wouldn’t answer your question, it wouldn’t hurt to take things into your own hands and figure it out for yourself, right? 
You looked back to the notebook in front of you, but with your curiousity still unsatiated, you couldn’t help the thoughts bouncing off the walls of your mind, competing for your undivided attention.
Ask him about it! a voice yelled.
Mind your own business, you creepy fuck! another (particularly foul-mouthed) one screamed.
At this point, you’d probably read the first line of your notebook about thirty times without comprehending a single thing, so you decided to give up and resort to banging your head lightly on your desk.
Apparently, 'lightly’ was an understatement, because a voice on your left hissed, “What’s your problem?!”
Oops.
“Nothing,” you replied softly with your head still on the desk.
Tsukishima sighed in exasperation. “Well, now I’m curious and it’s all your fault,” he scoffed, using your own words from earlier.
Now it was your turn to sigh. Stubborn person number one meets equally stubborn person number two: one of life’s most aggravating experiences. 
“C’mon, let me see your hands,” you demanded, your own hand outstretched. You’ll say ‘no’ no matter what I ask.
“No.” Tsukishima pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and turned away.
Point proven.
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You had always considered yourself to be somewhat generous when circumstances permitted, yes. But being yourself around others was something you considered yourself to be quite good at, as well.
Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if people’s hearts had metaphorical layers of thread surrounding them, winding, twisting, wrapping, and sometimes tangling around and around the ugliest, scariest, or most precious parts of themselves. The people you met would either unravel a bit of your heart, even if just a little bit, or they would cause you to wind the threads of your heartstrings even more tightly. 
You had strings that were (sometimes laughably) effortless to unwind, but once someone got to the last layer of thread, they refused to unravel any further. In other words, you weren’t afraid to be ninety-nine percent yourself around everybody. But that one percent? You’d keep it safely tucked away behind the impenetrable fortress of that last previous layer of thread — for both the good of yourself and everyone else.
Sometimes, you also wondered what the threads wrapping around Tsukishima’s heart was like. Not because you particularly had more of an interest in him than your other classmates, but because he was a sort of enigma to you. You had countless questions: How hard is it to unravel those threads? and What lies beyond those tightly wound strings? and What did he have to hide that is so unsightly? et cetera, et cetera. He was a puzzle you wanted to piece together, although you weren’t sure what the finished product would look like, or if there even was a finished product. 
You had a lot more questions about Tsukishima than you did answers.
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You must’ve been deep in thought for a while, because it took an utterance of some rather coarse language to bring you back to reality.
“Fuck,” Tsukishima muttered, fiddling with the tape covering his fingers. It was evident, after about ten seconds of observing him, that he was getting nowhere. At this point, you were presented with two choices: to help him or to leave him to wallow in his own frustration and suffer. Admittedly, the latter option seemed rather entertaining, but for some unknown reason, you opted for the former.
“Here, let me help,” you said, hand extending in front of you as an offer. “You obviously aren’t getting anywhere, so let me put you out of your misery.”
“You better get it all off then,” he grumbled, outstretching his arm, letting it limply dangle in front of your face. Huh, I didn’t expect him to actually agree so easily.
You gently took his hand, and starting with his pinky finger, you worked your nails under the end of the tape. As the tape unraveled further, you couldn’t help but notice how elegant his hands were. They were long and slender in ways that yours weren’t — the magnum opus of all things relating to hands. If God played favorites, he certainly did when it came to Tsukishima’s hands. Geez, knock it off, you cringed inwardly. You’re literally worshipping his hands at this point.
“So, uh, why are your fingers covered in tape?” You hoped to break the awkward silence between the two of you, and asking him questions that he probably wouldn’t answer (especially to plebeians like you) seemed like the last resort.
“Volleyball practice,” he responded simply. 
Oh. I didn’t expect an actual response.
“This morning? You guys sometimes have practice early in the day, right?”
“Last evening,” he corrected.
“You had these on your hands for that long?! I see you’re finally getting serious about volleyball, my dude, but you have to be able to ask other people for help." People other than me, but if I’m your last resort, then I’d be happily obliged to help.
Tsukishima scowled, which, thankfully, you missed, busy undoing the tape around his fingers. At least you didn’t criticize him for being hypocritical regarding his attitude about volleyball, which was relieving. 
There was a substantial (and slightly awkward) pause as you peeled the white adhesive strip of cloth off of his fingers, working slowly enough so that it wouldn’t hurt, or so you hoped.
“There we go!” you exclaimed proudly as the last of the tape fell away from his fingers. He wiggled them experimentally, not unlike a newly hatched butterfly would flap its fresh new pair of wings. 
“Thanks,” he responded curtly. 
As if on cue, the bell rang, marking the end of study hall. It was time for chemistry class.
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Over the course of your next class, your mind with occupied with thoughts that weren’t even remotely related to chemistry. You almost had a close call with the teacher when he called on you to answer a question, but thankfully, your friend sitting next to you whispered the answer in your ear — though not before giving you a quizzical look. You were too embarrassed to say that you were actually thinking about why the hell you actually agreed to help the guy sitting the next seat over whom you should have absolutely nothing to do with.
I did not just touch his hands no no no — I did not just hold hands with Tsukishima Kei — It wasn’t really of my own volition and he looked like he really needed help and I was feeling generous and it conveniently benefited the both of us, right? He got to finally be free from his misery and I— I got to touch his hands—
Your thoughts spiraled out of control as you buried your face in your hands, and perhaps some of the threads around your heart unraveled themselves that day.
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Thus, after that day, your everyday routine changed in more ways than one. You would into the classroom, say hi to your friend in the third row, put your bag on the desk, pull out your chair, sit down, take out your notebook and pencils, and wait for approximately thirty-nine seconds until a tall blond guy with glasses walked through the door, and greet him with a nonchalant "hey" and a wave. If he still had tape around his fingers (which was quite often), you’d ask him if he needed help; he’d say yes, and you would spend the next however many minutes undoing the adhesive strips of cloth.
Today was no different. You carefully eased the tape away from Tsukishima’s fingers. When you got to the base of his ring finger, he hissed in pain. The skin there was red and raw as if it had been recently injured. Not as if, it had been.
“Sorry,” you whispered, wincing as if you were the one in pain. “How’d you get hurt?” This time, you were genuinely concerned for him, which was rare for anyone, especially him.
“The one time I put some more effort into volleyball as if it were actually worth something, it comes back to bite me,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.
You looked up from his hand. 
“What?”
“I said, somehow I always give the things that I swear off from my life a second chance, it never, ever, works out,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you can’t get better out of sheer will? You’re bound to slip and fall on your butt at least a few times. Or a lot,” you responded. 
“Nobody told me that falling would hurt this much, though,” he replied. He looked off to the side, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.
“It’ll get better, trust me. You just have to get back off your ass and stand up.”
You left the conversation at that and continued undoing the tape on his other hand. 
I want to kiss his hands like I’m greeting the crown prince of a foreign kingdom, you thought, lips twitching, fighting back a small smile.
Oh my God, stop it! you mentally slapped yourself. You had to restrain yourself from actually slapping yourself in the face. Meanwhile, the uniform you wore began to feel a bit too warm — it was quite convenient that Tsukishima couldn’t see your face at that moment.
Unbeknownst to you, however, Tsukishima's thoughts weren’t nearly as calm as his cool and collected exterior. 
After all, what was he supposed to do when he could feel your breath fanning on his hands (could he tell you were desperately trying to keep them steady?) and your meticulous fingers on his?
I must be going crazy, he thought.
He imagines holding your hand, and not because of that dumb finger tape-
He shook his head, as if to dislodge the idea from his memory. No, I’m definitely going crazy.
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“So, do you like him or something?” your best friend asked out of the blue during a sleepover, the both of you laying in the darkness on your sleeping bags.
“Who?” you asked, though you had an idea of who she was referring to. 
“Tsukishima. That guy who sits to your left during study hall.”
“No, why would I like him? I mean, how can you even tell if you like someone or not. It’s not like there’s a radar that detects crushes and blasts ‘OH MY GOD YOU’RE HOPELESSLY IN LOVE’ on speaker,“ you replied dryly.
“Do you feel different around him?” she asked.
“As in the cliché symptoms of love that you read in romance novels? Like you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest and you have to clutch your shirt like it’s gonna pop out onto the floor if you don’t? If that’s what you’re asking, then no.”
“I mean that could be a sign, but you don’t have to feel like that to like someone. I mean in the way that you’re willing to show them who you really are, including all the ugly parts of yourself that you wouldn’t show to other people.”
Of course not! you thought to yourself. There’s no way I would fall in love with someone that I argue with for fun, right? 
“Why do you always complain about those tryhards on your volleyball team? You can always quit, you know,” you asked after Tsukishima was in a particularly bad mood about something, presumably about volleyball (as it usually was). As per your daily schedule, you were unraveling his finger tape during study hall once again.
“Don’t they know that the more effort they put into something, the more it’ll hurt when they find out everything they believe in is a lie?” he asked.
You paused. Oh, it was an a genuine question, you realized. And he wants a genuine answer.
“Such as?” you asked, your mouth acting quicker than your mind. I probably shouldn’t have pried deeper into something that’s obviously his business.
He went ahead and responded anyway, but not before taking a deep breath.
“When I was little,” he began, “I looked up to my older brother a lot. I really respected him, you know? He was my idol; he was perfect and infallible in every way. He played volleyball in junior high, so it was only natural that I played the same sport he did. And he continued playing throughout high school, or so I thought.”
“Or so you thought?” you repeated.
“He lied to me.” With those four words, you heard years and years of resentment and bitterness through his shaking voice, barely above a whisper. 
“To be honest, I should’ve expected it,” he continued, laughing humorlessly at himself. “I was too enamored to realize that when he was trying to stop me from watching his games, he was also trying to stop me from finding out that he was a liar. He wasn’t even a starting player. Instead he was on the bench, cheering for the team he was supposedly on.”
As those words left his mouth, you realized how little you understood Tsukishima. No, it was honestly ridiculous how you could consider yourself his friend when all you did was unwind strips of tape from his fingers for a mere few minutes every day.
Despite that, you held his hands a little tighter.
“If you don’t mind, I had a similar experience in junior high as well. This girl that I was really close friends with apparently had a huge circle of friends outside of school, and she would tell me and my other friends about all the rich guy friends she had and how well they treated her and shit. But I found out years later that they were probably all made up so that she could have something to tell us. So that she could keep us in her friend group. I realized they were fake.”
You let go of his hands, your arms limp at the memory.
“And how are you two right now?” Tsukishima asked. “Your relationship, I mean.”
“Surprisingly, we’re still on good terms,” you said. “She still doesn’t know I found out. But despite her pretending to be someone else in front of us for all those years, I still don’t think she’s a bad person. I’m actually kinda glad she got the attention she wanted. But man, the past still hurts like a bitch,” you chuckled in an attempt to forget.
“I see,” he replied. With that, you picked up his hand once again, continuing to undo the tape around the rest of his fingers.
That day, both you and the once unyielding, stone-faced Tsukishima left the classroom knowing just a bit more about each other.
You didn’t know that day that Tsukishima had his first real conversation with his brother after ‘the incident’.
He didn’t know you gave that friend from junior high a call for the first time in two years.
And the threads around your hearts unwound themselves just a bit more.
“No, I don’t,” you finally responded after a long pause. “I don’t like him in that way. He’s just someone I can rant to about the shit that happened in junior high—”
“Say that again, but slower,” your friend interrupted.
“He’s someone that I can rant to about all the... stuff that happened in the past,” you repeated. Did she not hear me the first time?
“Exactly, that’s my point,” she responded. “You never talk about those things with anybody, and even when I bring it up, you just brush over it.”
The weight of what your friend was implying took far too long for your brain to register, but when it did—
“Oh shit, I think I might actually like Tsukishima.”
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It was in the classroom of your mid-day study hall where Tsukishima Kei stole your heart bit by bit through the conversations you had with him while unraveling his finger tape; it was where you opened your heart and he opened his. 
“You and Tsukishima aren’t a thing, right?” a voice asked you out of the blue in the hallway after the dismissal bell rang.
“What?” you asked, turning your head to see who it was. You recognized her, although you struggled to put a name to her face. “You sit in the back of our study hall classroom, right? And to answer your question, no, we are not a thing.” 
Such questions were becoming all the more frequent these days, and you had the same two-letter answer to all of them (although you secretly hoped you could answer yes, but how Tsukishima felt about you was a whole different story).
“Yeah, I do. But are you sure you two aren’t dating? Like you could just be going out with him and not know it,” she answered.
You held back a snort that almost escaped your lips. 
“No, I’m sure we aren’t,” you said with a sigh, trying to keep your tone remotely cordial. “Besides, I’m not sure if he even considers me as a friend.”
“Oh, I’m sure he considers you as more than that,” she replied with a tone you couldn’t quite decipher. “Trust me.”
You barely knew her, so you couldn’t say how credible her statement was (though you desperately wanted it to be true). You glanced at the clock, itching to end the conversation.
“Alright, then. I’ll take your word for it. I have to get home now though, seeya.”
“Seeya around then,” she replied with a wave. Why does that sound strangely ominous?
“Bye,” you answered, too mentally drained from the conversations that began with the same question: ”Oh my God are you dating Tsukishima?” (Answer: no, no you weren’t). Nonetheless, you couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in your head that you haven’t seen the last of her just yet.
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She appeared the very next day, in the same spot at the hallway after school ended. That’s... strange.
You decided to ignore how off-putting it was. Maybe it was her wide smile — so much so that you could see her dimples and her blinding white teeth. Or maybe it was the way she spoke, like she was trying to get something from you. Whatever it was, you didn’t have what she wanted.
“If you’re asking whether Tsukishima and I became a thing within the past twenty-four hours, then no,” you said in exasperation. She was now walking by your side with an odd spring in her step, a bit too close for comfort despite the empty hallway.
“No, that wasn’t my question,” she said with a chuckle. “You keep denying that Tsukishima doesn’t like you, but I think he does.”
You had to scoff at that.
“In what way?” 
“In that way,” she responded with a knowing glance. “You’re already in the talking stage with him! He never talks to anyone other than that one friend he has, so I’d say you’re off to a good start.”
“And that totally means that he’s in love with me.”
“Please, don’t lie to yourself. You’ve gotten farther than anybody has, even if they tried for their entire life. How did you do it?”
But I didn’t do anything, you thought. 
“I just talked to him about stuff,” you replied slowly. The look she gave you said go on, so you did. 
“I just talked to him about myself and deep stuff and shi— and such. I really didn’t do much, so I’m probably not the best person to ask. Why don’t you try and ask his friend Yamaguchi?”
“No, I think I’m good,” she said with an unreadable tone. “Well I gotta go, so see you tomorrow!”
“....Bye,” you replied halfheartedly. You tried to shake the unsettling feeling from your chest, but you couldn’t help thinking, What if he does like me back?
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The volleyball made a resounding smack against the court behind the middle blocker instead of his hands. Tsukishima clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. Another ball that I couldn’t block?
“Hey, use your smartass head for once and pay attention!” Kageyama yelled across the court.
Tsukishima ignored his taunts. 
“Oh, the smart mouth finally doesn’t have any words left to say? Finally some peace and quiet,” Kageyama muttered. 
Practice continued for far too long, but the whistle finally blew, signaling everyone that it was time to go home. Finally, Tsukishima thought. I don’t have to listen to the King spew nonsense anymore.
He and Yamaguchi gathered their belongings and made their way out of the gym.
“Something’s on your mind,” Yamaguchi commented as they walked back home side by side.
“No there isn’t,” Tsukishima replied a bit too quickly to sound convincing.
“Right.”
A long silence ensued, the two of them kicking pebbles on the road and twiddling their thumbs in the cool night air. The buzz of the electric street lamps felt much too loud, feeding off the tension in the air. 
“How can you tell that you like someone?” Tsukishima was the first to break the silence, but it was the question, not the fact that he was the one that spoke first, that was more jarring.
“So I was right,” Yamaguchi responded after a slight pause. He fought back a small smile and added, “I thought something bad happened that I didn’t know about, but it turns out that you’re just in love.”
The taller one of the two sighed. 
“I’m asking you to tell me if I... like someone in that way, not for you to tell me that I am, Tadashi.”
“I can’t make a judgement if you don’t tell me anything. Tell me.” Yamaguchi lightly punched his friends arm.
“There’s this... classmate of mine. They asked if I needed help peeling off my finger tape during study hall and I said yes.”
“I figured as such.”
“What?” 
“You always come into first period with your fingers still wrapped but it’s gone by the time practice starts. I always wondered why but I never got around to asking you. But I’m even more surprised at the fact that you actually agreed.”
“Yeah, I surprise even myself sometimes,” Tsukishima deadpanned. “Especially the fact that it would become something that they would ask pretty much every day, and I would say yes every time. I just don’t know whether I have feelings for them in that way or not.”
“Well, do you look forward to talking to them everyday?” Yamaguchi asked.
Yes.
“Do you want them to know you for who you really are instead of what people think you are?”
Yes.
“Does your mind wander to them all the time?”
Yes.
“If you flipped a coin to decide whether you do like them or not, would your gut tell you the answer before you looked at whether it landed on head or tails?” 
Yes, Tsukishima answered silently, knowing he’d finally have to accept the truth: he was in love and there was nothing he could do about it.
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One thing you didn’t know about having a crush on someone was that you suddenly realize how often they appear in your life. You knew where you’d cross paths with him in the hallway before and after school, where his locker was, and worst of all, every goddamn love song reminded you of him. 
Even all the little mannerisms people had circled back to him: your friend would push her glasses up her nose the same way he did. Your mother would furrow her eyebrows like him when he was thinking about a particularly annoying math problem. Your English teacher would spin a pen between his fingers, just like him (although you had to admit that you preferred watching the latter do so; his hands were prettier). 
Maybe this was just some twisted manifestation of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, but your brain couldn’t recall enough content from psychology class to be sure. Either way, you were going insane.
That is, until one rather unremarkable day; there was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything came and went according to schedule — the same time spent with Tsukishima during study hall and the same boring class lectures. But as soon as the dismissal bell rang, you were surprised to find that the girl who would pester you in the hallway asking about you and Tsukishima’s relationship status (you still didn’t know her name) as if anything had changed (which it had not, of course). 
Apparently, her presence had already become routine enough for you to notice her absence. 
It was a welcome change, though; it wasn’t like you wanted her to be around. No, you absolutely didn’t need her nosy questions. So you just shrugged it off and made your way to the school’s exit like you normally did.
But a very familiar voice from a nearby classroom made your ears perk up — coincidentally, from your study hall classroom. You peered into the room from the doorway.
“Um, I think I like you, Tsukishima! I’ve felt this way for a long time and I just had to tell you!” The same boisterous girl who only had one topic of conversation with you (Tsukishima, of course) now had her hands coyly clasped behind her back, in all likelihood holding something meant for him.
As soon as you heard those words leave her mouth, the world around you seemingly ground to a halt — and so did you. As if your body stopped functioning for a moment, your heart stopped and your brain took much too long to process what she said. 
What did it matter anyway? You didn’t take your chance and look where that got you.
You turned on your heel and half-walked half-ran outside the school.
The second thing you didn’t realize about having a crush on someone, you realized as you laid in the darkness in the middle of the night, is that it physically hurts. Someone might as well have put your heart in a jar of acid and screwed the lid shut — no matter how hard you tried, it still hurt. And hurt it did.
You felt a stray tear slide down your cheek, and you angrily punched your pillow. You didn’t even have the emotional capacity to be angry at the girl who confessed to him. It was too obvious that she liked him, from the way she would stand a bit straighter when you mentioned Tsukishima’s name to the way she seemed a bit too satisfied when you said that you weren’t dating him. Were you too much of an idiot to notice? 
But most importantly, you were angry at yourself. Why were you crying over someone who you knew wouldn’t like you in the way that you liked him? Maybe you were too much of an idiot to not think things through; you’d just assumed that your feelings for him were so intense that he had to like you back. In retrospect, that was a stupid idea. But then again, in retrospect, you were the idiot all along.
It was in the classroom of your mid-day study hall where Tsukishima Kei stole your heart. It was in the same classroom where you got your heart broken for the first time.
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The most annoying thing about the universe was that it was ruthlessly, unrelentingly cruel. The earth kept spinning even if your world stopped mid-orbit, too traumatized by loss to continue. 
This was the brutal irony that you came to realize in the classroom where it all began and ended, supposedly. The very next morning, you had to pick your sorry self out of bed after however many hours of sleep you were able to get and go to school. And now half the school day had gone by — it was study hall time once again. 
“Are you gonna help me get this off my fingers or not?” The voice that you wanted so desperately to get out of your mind after months of replaying in your head plagued you once again. Indeed, the universe was cruel.
“No,” you replied meekly with your head on the desk. “It’s been long enough for you to know how to do it yourself by now.”
“I insist.”
You hesitated. A second passed, then two.
“Fine.”
Ever since you realized your feelings for the other boy with a cold stare and an even icier glare, you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of yourself, and today was no different.
You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. Could he? (It wasn’t that obvious, was it?)
You could feel yourself getting warmer by the second. Could he tell? (You were too busy looking at his hands; so let’s hope not.)
You knew that your heart was tugging you in his direction, urging you to do something. Was his doing the same? (You scoffed at yourself — you went over this last night and came to the conclusion that no, there was no way he could ever like you back.)
But maybe you wanted to be wrong this time. Being proven wrong wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed, but you would rather take the pessimistic point of view in this circumstance so you wouldn’t get hurt. And yet you still got your heart broken. 
That didn’t stop your erratic heartbeat and staggered breaths whenever your fingers brushed over his, though. While slowly unwinding the tape down his fingers, you wondered how many threads he unwound from your heart for it to hurt so much when it broke. Too many for your emotions to be left undamaged by something like this, you reckoned. Not that it was his fault, of course. It was your own for becoming so naïve and vulnerable.
But, the universe was full of irony. While you had your head down, too embarrassed and dejected to say anything else, Tsukishima was thanking whatever gods existed that you couldn’t see how flustered he was. 
Turns out, even people with hearts of stone can fall prey to the symptoms of falling in love. With a million thoughts collectively running through your minds, he was the first to blurt out:
“I think I’m in love.”
You let go of his hands, the loose end of the tape still dangling. There were too many questions raised at the utterance of a single sentence: With whom? When? How? Why?
Before you could organize your thoughts and form a coherent sentence — as if he could read your mind and peer into your soul — Tsukishima answered:
“With you.”
And as soon as the last two words fell from his lips, the last of the threads surrounding your worn, beaten hearts unraveled themselves, and fell away.
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