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daycourtofficial · 7 months

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Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 7

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: eeeek I’ve had parts of this one in the drafts for AGES the middle section has been drafted for at least a month I swear and I’ve been sitting on it like 🧍‍♀️ waiting to share it. I think this is my favorite part so far (but not my fav overall 🥰)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Masterlist)

Your day had been shit. Ever since that godsawful date Mor ambushed you with last night, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering about Azriel and Nesta’s date. What they were doing, how things were going, if she was making him laugh.

Hell, you couldn’t stop thinking about their date while on your own date. The guy was good looking, and he wasn’t terrible, but there was nothing there between you two.

He also was very into cryptocurrency, a topic that quickly took over the conversation at dinner. A topic you did not encourage him to continue on. He somehow didn’t get that memo, insisting on walking you up towards the doors of your building when he was dropping you off, where you had made a lame excuse about going to bed early before ducking into your building.

You had followed the same path Azriel took only moments ago, continuing on to your own apartment. You open the door, finding a note on the fridge in Cassian’s messy scrawl.

Have fun.

He drew a winky face, and then several crude drawings on the post-it. The drawings made you groan, Cassian’s enthusiasm for your date further solidifying your nonexistent chance with his brother.

Of course Cassian would have Mor set you up after he found out about your little crush on his brother. You felt so stupid when you saw Nesta on their couch earlier today. You hardly spoke to Rhysand on the way to lab, your thoughts too flooded with how terribly you had read the whole situation.

Cassian probably told Mor all about your dumb crush and got her to fix you up tonight. Maybe Azriel had even mentioned your text to Cassian, asking him what to do about the annoying roommate who developed a crush on his brother.

Your chest hurts, but it was just a silly crush. You’ll get over it.

Eventually.

Azriel stood in the elevator, waiting for the doors to close as he looked at his phone, looking at the last message you had sent him Friday morning.

Wanna grab lunch tomorrow?

He hadn’t answered, his phone having been on silent all day to focus on finishing his work for the next week and the reception in the library not allowing messages to come through. He hadn’t seen the message until he woke up this morning, the timestamp seeming cruel.

Now he stares at it and wants to throw his phone. Missed opportunities, he supposes. But what would this lunch have looked like since you’re dating that dickhead from last night? Would you have had to reject him outright?

He can see your face contort in a smile as you tell him, “oh no, Az, I’m seeing someone.” Then you’d probably laugh about it with the dickhead.

He runs his hands down his face when he hears someone yelling, “hold the elevator please!” He juts out an arm on instinct, not noticing who it is. He sees you slip inside, the doors bumping against his arm, bringing him back to reality as he looks down at you.

Fuck.

A light scent of oranges fills the elevator, and he notes it’s likely from your shampoo. He pulls his arm from the door, allowing them to close, locking the two of you in the metal box.

You look up at him, eyes going wide, cheeks heating in embarrassment at the close proximity. You’re standing right in front of him, and you can smell his cologne, a scent of night-chilled air and cedar filling your nose. You take deep breaths, telling yourself that it’s okay, it was just a little crush.

On a very pretty, smart, and very kind guy.

Who smelled incredible.

You look down at your feet, unsure how to speak to him now that you knew he was dating Nesta. And not wanting to further embarrass yourself by flirting with him.

Gods, this was how you were going to die, you think, shuffling to lean against the rail. Azriel’s voice puts a halt to the spiraling of your thoughts.

“Nice date last night?” Azriel asks, trying not to let whatever he’s feeling bubble up. Your eyebrows shoot up, unaware of Azriel even knowing about your date.

Of course he knows, you think, Cassian probably told him he’d handle it.

“He spent the while night telling me about stocks and crypto and how he wants to be in Forbes 30 under 30,” you scoffed, “so no, it was not nice.”

The elevator starts moving, and his eyebrows shoot up. “So that wasn’t your boyfriend?”

You scoff, “hell no. Mor ambushed me yesterday. She told me to get dressed up and we’d go out and have a fun girl’s night, but when I showed up she texted me that she set me up instead.

“The worst part is Mor was so confident that she told Cassian about it, so he had stayed at her place last night to give me ‘privacy’. He even left crude drawings around the apartment to help the ‘atmosphere’.”

Azriel laughs as the elevator dings for the third floor. He feels his chest lighten, knowing you definitely weren’t seeing anyone. “Mor’s always been ambitious, hasn’t she?”

You laugh. “Maybe it was just a ploy for her to have sex with Cassian.”

You say it, but you know it’s not true. The real truth was they wanted to put you out there, help you get over the beautiful man standing next to you. They knew you didn’t have a shot, especially compared to Nesta. You’re brought back to reality, and decide to hurt yourself further.

“How was your date with Nesta?” You ground out, after a pause in your conversation. You needed to know so you can completely cut off your feelings for him. You needed him to pierce you with the final dagger.

His eyebrows arch up, and he looks at your expression.

Were you upset? You won’t meet his gaze, and you’re clenching your fists. Were you - jealous?

His mouth curls up at the thought, “uh it wasn’t a date. Nesta and I study together every Thursday night. We take a lot of the same classes. We did it last night instead because she was busy on Thursday.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, “so you’re not dating Nesta?”

He laughs, “absolutely not. No that’s an avenue I’d never go down. But there is some-“

His words die as you hear a screeching sound and the elevator stops completely, leaving you two stranded somewhere between the first and second floors.

“No - no, no, no.”

You start freaking out - elevators always gave you a bit of concern, their small dimensions making you feel cramped. You hit the button to open the door, jamming it with your finger. Realizing that it was fruitless, You pull out your phone only to remember that the elevator always has no service.

“Fuck,” you mumble, and your breaths start coming faster and faster, and you’re trying to remember your calming techniques, when you feel cold hands gently grab your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me.”

You look up, finding hazel eyes looking back at you. They’re etched with concern, not a trace of mockery in them.

“We’re okay. Breathe with me, can you do that?”

He grabs one of your hands, placing it on his chest so you can feel his breaths as they come in and out. Your eyes stay trained on his, not wanting to look away, wanting to get lost in the gold flecks you find there.

You start following the rhythm of his breaths, but he keeps talking to you in a soothing tone. You’re too focused on breathing to register what he’s saying, but you do register the soothing tone he’s speaking to you in. You could get lost in his voice, its deep timbre a melody in your ears.

Eventually you come back down enough to focus on what he’s saying and he’s telling you about his night - everything he did yesterday.

“Rhys texted me to get some trash bags on my way in, which is where I was coming from when I pulled up and found you with crypto douche.”

You smile, your first real reaction to his words since the elevator stopped.

“There she is,” he says, his finger tapping your cheek, “wanna tell me more about crypto douche?”

“He wants to be a landlord.”

Azriel snorts, “of course he does.”

“I didn’t even want to go on this date,” your eyes stay locked with his, the golden flecks calming you down. “But Mor has been begging me to go out with this guy for ages, and then she finally decided to ambush me by forcing it on me.”

“You know you can tell Mor “no”. It’s a complete sentence.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but she loves playing matchmaker, even though she’s awful at it. Usually once every other month I let her set me up, but she was just throwing a tantrum I wouldn’t let her set me up this time once I figured out the rouse.”

He doesn’t let himself linger on the fact that you haven’t let her set you up since meeting him. Coincidence, maybe. “Have any of them been successful?”

You blow out a breath, “uh, no. Usually I stay for an hour then leave. None of them have ever gotten a second date.” You pause, thinking. “In the words of the great philosopher of our time, “I’m a pathological people pleaser,” you chuckle.

“And who said that?”

“…. Taylor Swift.”

He looks at you, a chuckle on his breath, such tenderness in his gaze it shocks you a bit. “You should stand up for yourself more.”

“I’m… not really sure how. It’s kind of new to me.”

You look at your feet, but he taps your chin so you’ll look at him again. “I stood up to my parents, and it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

You had tiptoed around the topic since your admission to Cassian the day you moved in, the wound still too raw to discuss with anyone other than Feyre. Mor knew some of the details, but not the whole story. You’re sure Rhys and Az knew that something happened with your parents, but you never let them know too much about it.

They didn’t know that your parents had told you that you became everything they had tried to avoid. That, despite everything they did for you, you didn’t turn out right.

You hadn’t told Mor because you knew she would have burnt down their house with them in it.

“It was scary, moving here with a guy I hardly knew.” His grip on you tightens slightly, and he’s hanging onto every word you say.

“But I don’t regret it. Not even when Cassian wakes me up at 6 AM with his singing.”

He chuckles, and he stills as you look into his eyes, your voice clear and strong.

“I don’t… I don’t regret any of it. I don’t regret meeting you.”

His hands are still cupped on your face, his face mere inches from your own. Your confession hangs in the air as you two look at each other, and he leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours.

Your breathing hitches, but not because you’re stuck.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the elevator comes back to life, moving downwards again. It startles both of you into jumping away from each other, and you clear your throat.

“Where are- where are you going?” You ask, gesturing towards his helmet.

“Oh, uh Cassian forgot his lunch and doesn’t have time to grab anything between clients. I was going to bring him something.”

The air is lighter between you two, and Azriel feels like he can breathe you in again. The fog of confusion has lifted between you two, leaving you to be seen clearly by him.

“Do you want to get lunch?”

He echos your previous text message to him, and you nod.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

You stroll through the lobby, putting as much distance between the falter elevator and yourselves. Once you make it to the parking lot, Azriel places his spare helmet on your head, tapping the top of it lightly affectionately.

You zip your jacket up as Azriel gets on the bike first, his thighs straddling the seat. He holds the bike steady, allowing you to place your hands on his shoulders for balance, letting go of your fears as you swing your leg around to straddle the bike behind him. Your body leans against his, wrapping around him, holding onto him.

You place your head on his back, your fingers clutching onto his jacket. It feels new, electricity crackling through every inch of you that is in contact with him, despite the layers and helmets that separate you.

He chuckles at the gasp you let out when you two start moving, how your hands hold onto his jacket a little tighter than before.

He pulls a hand away to place it gently on one of the hands you have clutched to his jacket, squeezing three times before moving his hand back.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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bunny-lily · 7 months

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Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending

Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff

Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader

CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy.

You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!

This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.

This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;

smol update: this has been (minorly) edited! nothing big, I mostly just went in and fixed up a couple mistakes + summoned my dearly beloved thesaurus. Otherwise, it's basically 98% the same as before!

Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.

Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on their sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube hardly scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down.

You weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.

It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your instrument. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.

She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the spinet – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.

As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.

In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.

Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their cinders, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.

In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.

It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.

You liked to think she would have been proud of you.

A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.

You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”

Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.

While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.

A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”

Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.

You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your upright eighty-eight, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.

“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”

“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”

“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too low for him. What intensely long legs. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”

He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”

“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”

His hands took place over the ivories and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”

“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the upper panel. You opened it and sifted through a few of the jingle options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.

It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.

“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the music rack in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The piece consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.

The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing.

He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.

“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play?”

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”

You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”

He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”

When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.

You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as milky white as the tresses on his head.

He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.

They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.

You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so… familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.

Where have I seen you before?

You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”

“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”

Just Satoru? Is that really okay?

It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.

“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.

Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor.

Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the tunes you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach a lot of things very easily.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.

Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?

You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”

“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing the fallboard with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”

He made something warm form in your chest.

“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”

The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”

He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”

“Alright,” you acquiesced.

“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”

You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.

You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–

You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.

You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.

That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.

You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.

Your phone buzzed.

You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.

Unknown, 9:17 PM Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru. Does next week still work for you, same time?

What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs.

Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could exhale in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.

The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.

It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.

“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ thing alive.”

Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”

“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.

“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.

You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing music whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”

“So you got into music young?”

You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”

“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.

You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.

“I’d love to.”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Satoru had been your student for a while now.

He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.

At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.

He laughed, and said nothing more.

By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a lullaby he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch nearby, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.

And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played.

A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.

You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore.

You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.

In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.

You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old vinyls. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.

There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.

Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.

You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.

“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.

You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”

“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the usual spot.

“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”

What a gorgeous sound his laughter was.

“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”

He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.

You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest single quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.

Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.

Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.

…Was that music?

Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.

Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.

Then…

You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone.

His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.

As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only ever dream of achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.

The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.

Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the claviature. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.

You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.

You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.

“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”

You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.

“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”

“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”

“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.

Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh.

Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.

You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.

You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.

He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.

“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”

As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain.

You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.

From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.

“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”

You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.

You never did manage to master it.

You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?

You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.

“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”

“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”

Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.

You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a sonata, hear him swallow nervously.

“Keep playing,” he rasped, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”

You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt firsthand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?

The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.

In every way, the ballad reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.

But, if that was the case…

How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys?

Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.

Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the lilt.

Or, rather, the end as you knew it.

There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”

“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”

He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.

Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.

“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position.

Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in.

Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus.

You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager.

But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.

A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.

Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.

“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.

Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.

“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”

Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.

He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.

There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.

“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”

Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the diapason you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.

The one he was playing for you now.

Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…

You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.

Now, you felt completely spellbound.

You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. Some clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere.

By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.

The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.

His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.

Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.

Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious lullaby your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.

Because you created it together.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

banner by cafekitsune ♥

#jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #fem reader #I'm going light on the tags fn #is this considered light lmao #fluff #jjk fluff

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polyklok · 2 years

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your first ask (Murderface x reader) was incredible and so sweet 😭 can I request another Murderface but this time kind of the reverse situation, with him comforting an s/o who's feeling insecure (maybe about their own appearance?) Thanks! ❤

I’m so sorry it took me forever to answer this!! Life has been kicking my ass, but after a couple weeks it’s done! Had a lot of fun writing this (also, I heavily assumed this was another female reader)

TW: More swearing, physically-insecure reader, Murderface pervs for a little bit, lots of crying, also I’m posting this like 3 minutes after finishing it so it might be a little messy

You were unsure whether to laugh or cry, staring at yourself in the mirror in a ridiculous excuse of a dress. It had looked bad on the hanger, it felt bad as you put it on, but this was just…horrendous!

Tonight was stressful enough. Dethklok was having a party to celebrate their latest album release. Well, it was formal, so less of a party and more so a gathering of big-name executives, celebrities, and plenty of press. Press that would inevitably take pictures and ask questions of everyone there. Including you, for tonight would also be your first public appearance of Murderface’s ‘new’ girlfriend.

Charles had already warned you; you’d be surrounded with cameras, you’d be asked a thousand questions, your every movement would be documented, and the next day, there would be a critique of your every aspect online. The whole thought made you nauseous but William was excited to show you off, so you went with it.

Or…you would have if it weren’t for the dress that had been picked for you. Never before have you doubted Dethklok’s stylists; they had already done your hair and makeup so well! But the little number you were in was atrocious, to say the least.

It was made up of black leather that clung to your skin, hugging your breasts uncomfortably. The torso was covered in metal studs and spikes, making it impossible to place your arms in any natural position. The skirt was had a strange tutu effect, and yet was so short it nearly flashed your ass for the world to see. It was tacky, awkward, and completely informal! Maybe it would’ve worked as some sort of cheap, sexy Halloween costume in a bag…fit for a little girl.

Muddy, black tears began to creep down your cheeks. You held your head up high, desperate to not let them fall. How could master designers make…this?! There was no way something could fail so badly. Was it…you? You let out a pained sob, deciding that there was no way in hell you’d be leaving this room tonight.

“Hey, babe!”

You froze. Not him. Not now. You wiped away your tears, smudging your makeup further onto your face, “Uh, yeah William?”

“Are you ready? I wanna schow thosch fuckersch my girl!” You could see the shadows of his boots shuffle happily from underneath the door, his tone was so optimistic, especially compared to how he usually was about social events. It broke your heart.

“I-I’m sick! I suddenly caught a stomach bug. I’m sorry, but-“

“WHAT?”

He turned the doorknob so hard, the lock broke. You cringed; it was easy to forget just how strong Murderface could be. You yelped, “William!”

He stared at you, slightly impressed at first. Your thighs and cleavage were on full display. But, as his eyes trailed up to your face, teary and smeared with mascara, his heart fell like a rock into his stomach, “Babe?”

You hiccuped, trying to keep up your lie despite the obvious, “I’m si-ick.”

Murderface stood for a bit, unsure on what to do. His instinct yelled at him to protect you…but from what? He moved close, taking your hand in his and looking into your watery eyes. His chest hurt, seeing you so upset.

“I’m sorry,” You said, “I just can’t-“

“What’sch wrong?”

His voice was so soft, so concerned. You broke down, shoving your face into the crook of his neck, “I look so fucking stupid, William.”

He squeezed your torso, wanting to tell you all the sweetest, sappiest things but unable to find the words to do so. “It isch kinda a schtupid dresch,” He managed, feeling the random spikes and stiff leather. He didn’t have a knack for fashion, but if he looked past all the skin that it showed, he could see that it wasn’t the most…flattering outfit.

His reply made you chuckle in between your sobs, “I’m sorry, Murderface. I can’t do it,” You pulled back, looking at him, “Its more than the dress, it’s all those expectations! I don’t want to go out there, looking like this and being stared at and ruining your reputation because I wasn’t good enough!”

It felt good to say, to let out all the pressure. And yet, the fear doubled once you reached the realization. You weren’t ready. You loved Murderface, but he came with a price and you weren’t sure you could pay it.

“You, not good enougch?” He gasped, taking a step back, “You’re…fuchkin’ wonderful! My reputation isch’nt schit-“

“William, don’t.”

“Compared to…Urgch, lischen, I don’t really give a fuck about the fuchkin’ presch or anything. They’re aschholesch. It doesch’nt matter how dumb your dresch looksch or how you anschwer their fuggin’ questionsch, they’re probably gonna hate you.”

You sighed, slumping down onto your bed. Several pops emitted from the dress, giving some slack from the fabric. “So I’m fucked?”

He sat next to you, eyes focused on the floor. “But I really love you. Like, a lot. Scho…yeah, shcrew the goddamn presch.”

His face was beet red, hands gripping knees. While, his affection towards you was obvious (especially considering how he treated most others) he has never said those three words before.

“Oh, William.”

Murderface tugged at his tie and kicked off his boots, “Fuchk it. Charlesch’ll yell at me later. I don’t wanna do this schit without you.”

“You don’t have to-“

“Schut up, I’m going to.”

You smiled, eyes still sore from all your crying and face sticky with makeup, “I love you too, Murderface.”

#dethklok #metalocalypse #william murderface #polyklok is real #request filled #metalocalypse murderface #murderface x reader

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grokebaby · 1 year

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WAIT HELLO LASSI'S DAD KILLED MOST OF THE PLAGUES ?? I wanna hear THAT story 👁👁 does Lassi himself know about that ? What does he think about his dad with that added context ?

(in response to this post)

[The Incident™ has been mentioned before in this. Also I drew a thing related to it]

(cracks my knuckles) alright buckle down kids time to hate on this shithead. Press like to explode him now press reblog to explode him now comment to explode him now

To get into the issue with the Plagues there's a few layers of lore to peel back. I prefer to be vague bc this involves some characters that are really close to my heart and I prefer to not talk about them too publicly.

Flashcards go! There's this deity who's the creator of this demon kind - which Lassi, Siru and everyone belongs to. Also the creator of a huge portion of the plagues (intentionally or not). We shall refer to this deity as The Mistress (hen/hens or she) but long story short: hen is the deity of the duality between life and death, deprivation and prosperity, and all that jazz. Big deal. Has two forms, and the death form is horrific and unstoppable (and extremely tortuous on the mistress henself btw). It can literally ruin lands from being fertile again bc it's in a constant state of desperate starvation and so will eat any living thing it comes across. I'm telling this to emphasize how serious shit can get if you summon the death form (which is understandably a major taboo, and obviously avoided at all costs).

- Also relevant: The Plagues are divided into "Courts" (fin: Piirit), based mostly on what their whole Deal is. There's a separate court for sicknesses, another for suffering (like, pain), one for pests (like Pesticinger and Margaretta) and so on. There is also a court associated with Plentiness and prosperity (often also called The Mistress' court, for reasons you can probably gleen?). They range from benevolent bringers of good fortune, to greedy entities capable of consuming endlessly. Often both.

Onto The Incident🕴️

The Mistress was throwing a huge feast in honor of spring. Lots of people were invited - notably, pretty much the entire court of Plentiness (and some pests bc there's alot of bugs who like to eat in there). Many demons were also invited, such as P, Mr Varpunen and Nan. Lassi and Siru were little babies at the time so they stayed home.

Since Mr. Varpunen has shitbrain manbaby disease (cannot shut up and let go when something doesn't go his way), he decided to cause a scene in the midst of the feast (not bc of the feast itself but as mentioned earlier on, he's mad bc his wives don't wanna go along with a huge decision he wants to make. For all of them.)

The Mistress of course publicly called out his behavior and scolded him in front of everybody (you stepped on this soap box, now lay in it). Manbaby storms off to sulk and perhaps find the nearest item that can substitute for a summoning device..

After some time he comes back and talks the absolute shit out of The Mistress, and to prove his superiority, forces hen to shift to the death form via amateur summoning. It wasn't graceful so the whole process was messy and not fun for anybody. Yes, people tried to stop him, which made it all the more messy. You can probably guess that all hell unfolded upon the feast after that.

We can at least be satisfied in knowing that when the perpetually starving (and mighty pissed off) death God emerged, Mr. Varpunen was the first to be gulped down. Unfortunately, P (Mrs. Varpunen) was very quickly after, since she was frozen in shock.

Soooo (pulls out a long scroll that keeps rolling a mile ahead of me) this ofc had lots of immediate and far reaching consequences. Here's a little overview on the overall damage list (not even mentioning the fact that the feast, which used alot of resources and effort to put together, was completely ruined):

- About 90% of the court of Plentiness were eaten, bc nothing more tasty than fortune bringers when you're a starving deity. There are only a handful of survivors, and most of them got away bc they ran as far as they could and didn't stop running until they no longer recognized the world around them. There is a certain Mx. Kuhilas who has lived in the human realm for the past 30yrs since..

- Most of the bug pests from the pest court also died. Did you know Margaretta was invited to this feast? Did you know the only reason she survived is bc she's a bit of a ditz and she was hours late?

- Damn near all demon villagers who were invited. Dead. Definitely every single one who was at the big table during the Incident. The village lost almost a whole generation to this.

- SO much livestock. So much food. Gone.

- Did you know the death form attracts plagues that are also related to all things destruction and taking away?

- This was a fucking nightmare. The whole rampage was only stopped bc the hassle caused a certain plague to be summoned, and this certain plague has the expertise of making people vomit. It wasn't enough to save any of the people already eaten (when eaten their souls literally disintegrate), but it did prevent anyone else from being eaten bc it caused the death deity to collapse from exhaustion and go comatose.

Now, believe it or not there was at least a little unselfish motivation behind Mr. V's actions. There were claims and tales that people who've managed to escape the death form are able to "cheat death", so to speak. Since evading this deity at all in the first place is kinda like cheating death, rumor has it that survivors could do it again. This isn't a very concrete claim however and it's a very flimsy excuse to fuck over everyone this badly. See, Mr. V thought since Lassi and Siru would obviously dodge the Wrath of the deity, they'd be granted this special fate. However, most people involved enough to know about this stuff, are aware that it's a false belief - often much like the warmth that hypothermia victims feel seconds before their death.

[Sad trumpet sfx]

No, Lassi is not aware of this whole incident. Siru is, bc Nan told her when she was old enough (which is unfortunately sometime around after Lassi moved away from home). Nan didn't talk about the Incident for YEARS after it happened since she was traumatized (unsurprisingly). Before she really talked about everything, the general consensus was "Mr and Mrs. Varpunen died bc of something horrible he did. Alot more people also died that same day."

Lassi and Siru did gleen some hints when they were young - ykno, from disdainful whispers and pitying looks their family received for a while. Also the momentary flinching terror that people had when they saw Lassi's eyes, or the almost expectant shame when seeing Siru's hair (the curse.. Manifests on both kids in some way).

Boy, if Lassi did find out.... Alot of pieces would fall into place let's say that. He'd understand why people were so weird about him looking alot like his dad. He'd understand why it was wrong of him to sell that silver bell for money all those years ago. Ykno the silver bell that the Mistress gave Nan as an apology, which is a protective artefact? Yeah. Oh jeez. He'd probably feel like an even shittier person than he is but also a victim bc. C'mon. He didn't know. He didn't deserve to be treated like the ghost of a monster when younger. Have everyone hover around him as if he could grow up to be capable of the same. He didn't know..

It'd be heavy to shoulder, considering everything he's went through in the big world. And one thing's for sure...

He'd be even more insistent that his underlings never call him Mr. Varpunen.

Ever.

#Ask #Lore #Mr Varpunen #P #Mrs Varpunen #Lassi #Siru #Nan #There is SO MUCH to this whole thing. So much.#I tried to shave off some not immediately necessary details #Please enjoy!#Sorry this might be soo messy. I rewrote so much. So many times. (holding your shoulders) do you understand.#Also SIRU IS AFFECTED BY THIS ALL THIS TOO THAT'S ALSO HER DAD BUT ALAS. The question was about The Mr and Lassi.#But oh. I might get into her more in the future #(deflates like a balloon)#This has some of my favorite wordings for what happened. Like ever #I popped off with the hypothermia comparison #Ummmm I think that's it? This post is done now?#I have so many feelings about this whole thing

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invisiblegarters · 1 year

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Only Friends Character Rankings - Ep 6

Well this was an episode, wasn't it? Finally the mess really begins and now the mettle of every single person who says that what they were looking forward to was messiness is about to be tested. Because every single one of these characters is gonna bring the mess, even the one we like best. Maybe especially the one we like best. Here comes the point when they really start to tear strips off each other. Can we handle it?

For myself, I can't definitively answer that (temptation compels me to say yes but also you just never know and I refuse to pretend otherwise) but I can say I can't WAIT to find out.

Character Rankings (Fave to Least Fave atm)

SAND. Sand my darling my shit stirrer my passive aggressive asshole. I've already made a whole post about how calculated he was in his manipulation this episode - he wound Ray up and watched him go, and literally only interfered when the result flared out at Nick. Which shows me exactly how little he cares about any of these people and desperately makes me need his ex to be alive and to show up real time because Sand has some very complicated, very unresolved issues there and frankly, caring about Ray or not I think he's still in love with them.

If they are dead though that would make a lot of sense, mostly because now Sand is sort of frozen in that place of betrayal and anger and yeah, love, thwarted as it was. It would also explain his need to destroy Top at the cost of everything else.

I still wonder if it was a woman. I want it to be Mix but we keep referencing that San likes both and he's yet to be seen with a woman, so.

And nope, did not miss his passive aggressive digs at Ray either. "I see why you like him." "He's lucky he has someone like you looking out for him." Especially that first one. Lbr that was entirely a dig and while I get it - he's smarting from everything that happened with Boston before (regardless of how hard he pushes it down it's still obvious) and he figures why the hell not, no one else gives a shit so why should I, I know exactly what I am to this person and it's practically nothing so what does it matter if I use him? Tit for tat - I'm not so far up his ass (yet, there's always next week) that I can't see how fucked up it is. I just also kind of love it. I'm impressed, tbh. I was fully expecting Sand to reveal the tape to Ray out of some stupid "I just want you happy wah" thing and to have him do it this way floored me. I have said before that what I want from his storyline with Ray is mutual destruction and if things keep going along on these lines I will be very pleased. That second fight still worries me though.

I will also say that I bet I'm angrier about Ray calling him a whore (twice! In less than ten minutes!) than Sand will probably be. Sand did this, he wound Ray up as I already said, and if there's one thing that has been entirely consistent with his character thus far it's that he takes responsibility (perhaps takes it when things aren't even really his fault). He takes responsibility for his own feelings and he takes responsibility when he fucks up. I can definitely see him deciding he earned what he got, even if Ray went straight for what he knew would hurt the most - hasn't Sand told him over and over that he's not going to be bought? - he also went straight for Ray's weakest spot to get what he wanted out of him. Tit for tat.

That said, I can very much also see him internalizing that that's what Ray thinks about him. Especially if that turns into Ray's go-to insult when they fight (as I guess it might just).

I'd say he's the episode MVP, but actually he's tied with

MEW. Oh, Mew. I keep saying that it's always the reserved ones that go the most nuts when crossed and neither Sand nor Mew has proven me wrong this episode. Also the man just has a delicious sense of drama and who doesn't love that? The way he lulled Top into thinking all was well and then lured him into believing that there would be sexy times, followed up by that fucking line. I screamed and then started cackling (very quietly, it was early here and people were sleeping). MEW YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND. I had clocked that he wasn't having fun and that he was extremely subdued about Top's showoff gift but him punching Ray really convinced me that he was gonna ignore everything Ray had been trying to say.

That said, they better not reveal that they cooked this up together because then why did Ray go full scorched earth? If it was a plan they could have executed it in pretty much any other way.

Nah, feels wrong to me. What I think is that Mew punched Ray because he was ruining Mew's on the spot plans to confront Top himself, but also because wow bestie how about we don't humiliate me in front of all our friends? Plus he knows that if he apologizes Ray will forgive him anything. It's a benefit of the whole BFF being in love with you business.

Loved the bath smile in the preview. My guess is he's gonna revenge fuck Ray, but only after Top thinks that he's forgiven him and they get back together. It'll be very messy. Why can't he fuck Sand instead that would be the ultimate revenge for both really.

Boston. Yeah, Boston. He read Ray to filth in this ep while ALSO trying to lead him into thinking that telling Mew about him and Top fucking behind his back would be just as bad as fucking Top behind his back. Like it's genius and fucked up and eighteen levels of wrong and it ultimately didn't work but jesus.

And then at the end of the whole mess he is the only one who got to go home with a dude that still wants him. And I have to appreciate that that's because Nick already knew. Sure it wasn't fun to hear I bet but it's not like it's not something Boston hasn't been clear about.

He got a reprieve this week but I suspect he knows that. He's gonna go gunning for Nick too because he's not a dumb man and he can put two and two together and get four (even though sometimes it suits his purposes to make five instead) and it's gonna dawn on him sooner than later that he has someone very very close to him who has access to all kinds of fun spy equipment, doesn't he? Why yes he does.

Looking forward to watching Mew yeet him into the pool next ep though.

Ray. I love mess, and boy howdy did Ray bring it this ep. I'm incredibly unsure why he decided to burn all his bridges so spectacularly, but well, he's drunk and maybe high definitely feeling sorry for himself and we don't always make the best decisions in those situations. Seen speculation that he fully intends on hurting himself by getting behind the wheel and yeah, that also rings true.

He also knows just where to hit everyone where it hurts and he didn't hold back, did he? If I can't blame or hate Boston for what he did last ep then the same must be said for Ray - he wasn't spewing anything that wasn't true...until he got to Sand. There it was entire untruths but I don't like Ray enough to try to unpack that, especially since my less than rosy view of Ray means that I am inclined to think the worst. Frankly what I want to say is that all Sand is to Ray, whether he's actually paying for it or not, but even I know that's uncharitable. See, growth (mine, not Ray's - I think we've got at least three episodes before we see growth from Ray).

And frankly I don't think Boston was entirely wrong that he hopes that Mew finding out about Top and Boston will send him to Ray's arms - it's not the whole reason he needs Mew to know, but yeah. it's there in the back of his mind. I still don't blame him for telling him.

But also I'm with Sand - getting in a car the way he is isn't entirely about him, he could seriously hurt someone else and that pisses me the fuck off. I have a real bug bear about drunk driving. No excuse is a good excuse for that shit and that's why he's lower than Boston this week. Fuck him for that honestly.

Top. This might be controversial, but I feel kind of bad for Top this ep. I mean, not horribly bad, I was having a great time watching everything fall apart around him, but a little bad.

And here's the reason why: I don't think that he is entirely playing a part with Mew. I do think he likes him - not sure if I buy love but he does like him, perhaps a lot. The man is a nasty piece of work who slips into cocky assholery way too easily for my tastes, but I also think that he's kind of put in that role and so goes with it. He did try to be cordial with Sand this ep - kind of insane when you think about the fact that Sand hates him, Top knows Sand hates him, and he also knows why - but he didn't switch to assholery until he took his cue from Sand. Same when he ran into Sand with his car - he was sorry and worried but then Sand wouldn't follow that script so he followed. He does the same thing with Boston when they interact.

I think he enjoys being with Mew because Mew lets him be the best version of himself. But of course the asshole is still there underneath, he can't run from it, so it all falls apart around his ears. I do think he holds genuine affection for Mew, but what does that matter when he's screwed over so many people in the past? I think he also likes the novelty of doing love and sex Mew's way, but I also believe that he'll only play the penitent for so long before he loses patience. I'm curious to see if I'm right, and how things will go if so.

Chuem. Every time this woman opened her mouth it was to be a dick. Like, damn. I knew she wasn't some sweet angel but I get the impression the only one of her friends she really likes is Mew. Curious why, because she seemed to at least like Ray well enough two years ago. At the very least Mew is the only one that she's not casually cruel to.

Nick. Babe. You're pretty but I'm gonna need you to do something okay? Yes, even if your revenge hits Sand at least it'll hit SOMEONE. Because right now you're just a succession of "oh shit" faces and I need more.

Relationships (Most to Least Fave atm)

TopMew. Yep. They finally got really interesting and beat out BostonNick. I am so curious what Mew is gonna do to Top. I already said that my top guess is making Top work for it, making him think he's forgiven him...and then fucking Ray and making sure he finds out about it. This suspicion will turn into a certainty if he finds out that Top fucked Boston because he thought there something happened with him and Ray.

Nick and Sand. I want them to hash it out and make up. I said I'd be okay if Nick's revenge hit Sand but I really won't be haha, I want them to end the show still friends. They are usually really good at talking to each other so I have some hope. Don't let these men you probably won't even know anymore in a year screw up a friendship that might actually last beyond college, guys. Also you should make out.

Sand and Top and the ex. The way I am being teased about this is not nice. GIMME. I want answers, don't care how I want them now. Make it messy please. Please please please please please I want the ex to show up like a wrecking ball and for Sand to utterly lose all his shit over it.

BostonNick. Still think these two deserve each other. Am READY for Boston to put two and two together and get Nick fucking bugged his car, though. And maybe he can get Nick to play the recording from him since at this point he and Chuem are the only two who haven't heard it. I am curious to see what if anything Nick does when it all falls apart. I kind of want him to ascend to unhinged lengths as yet unseen.

SandRay. I guess the mask is off now (even though I kinda think it was always off, lol). I do not ship this. They are bad for each other and Ray especially needs to just not be anywhere near a romantic relationship, but especially not with Sand who has a serious caretaking complex that is going to foster some really nasty codependence, as well as a far too patient streak which will only encourage Ray to keep lashing out at him whenever he wants (yes this ep he did what he did but I cannot stress enough that it wasn't really about Ray. Oh, he took his shots but at it's heart this was all about getting at Top. Top is a special case for Sand, he's a dude who riles him up just by existing. Ray might get there eventually but currently he's nowhere near on Top's level for Sand, he'll put up with perhaps a LOT more before he finally gets to that point).

Every week I worry that Sand is gonna enter his doormat era, and every week they've neatly dodged it happening. But oh, we still have six weeks to go and the worst fight is yet to come so that worry ain't fading anytime soon.

As I've said, mutual destruction is more fun for me so this ep wasn't half bad on that front. If things stay in this vein I might actually work around to enjoying it as a disaster ship.

In Conclusion

I'm gonna need everyone to stop it with the slut shaming, please. Boston's an ass, but he's not an ass because he likes to sleep around and I'm kind of tired of the conflation of the two.

#only friends #only friends the series #rankings

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imposter-art · 6 months

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Sorry to bother you. You look cool as hell. I keep seeing your Vash posts and the gender envy is insane. I gotta know, what hair cut do you have?? Could you post clear photos of what it looks like from all angles?? I desperately want to show my barber because you look awesome.

Hi! First of all, thank you so much 🥰 I appreciate it!

Secondly, unfortunately I don't know what haircut is that, because I cut it myself :') I know pretty much nothing about cutting hair, but I'm okay with ruining my appearance for cosplay :'D

I was going for a mohawk-ish undercut, and also wanted it to be asymmetrical, so I made one side longer and kept more length in the back. It makes it easier to style in my opinion!

I should probably also mention that I have curly hair (or at least had before ruining the structure by bleaching...), so it's all messy and fluffy naturally, but I think it could be styled pretty good too! I usually don't style it tho so I look like Vash from one side and like Denji from the other lol

But the other side has the potential of being styled too! I'm just too lazy for that - forgive me my look, I just woke up :'')

I think the best reference for what I was trying to do would be like... Gwen from spider-verse? But shorter?

Anyway hope this helps!

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supersapphical · 2 years

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Negative Reviews That Made Me Want to Read the Book More

Because sometimes you read a negative review and you just think....fantastic! That's exactly what I'm looking for!

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

I now DESPERATELY want a pair of booty shorts that say “filled with vainglory and misandry” on the ass.

Something to Talk About by Meryl Wilsner

This one made me want to read the book more and kinda made me like the reviewer. It’s refreshing to see someone say “you know what this just isn’t for me.”

Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake by Alexis Hall

I could actually do a whole separate post just on negative reviews of this book because I have Thoughts. I enjoy Alexis Hall and one of his favorite things to do is create a messy main character and then have them go through a journey of self growth throughout the story. Soooooo many reviews mention Rosaline being an “unlikeable” character and yet I never see that same complaint about his books with messy male protagonists (even the ones who are arguably far more messy than Rosaline). 🙃🙃🙃

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

So its NOT like Game of Thrones and it has a slow build where you get to live in the world for a while before the action starts? FANSTASTIC. I love stories about ordinary people trying to go about their lives while ridiculous shit is happening around them. I love when characters sit around and tell each other stories so you get world building AND character bonding at the same time.

(Note: though this review made me want to read the book, once I started reading it, I realized it was very inaccurate. In the first couple hundred pages there’s multiple assassination attempts against a queen, a fugitive trying to escape justice and actual dragons. After actually reading it, I really want to dissect this reviewer's brain because if all of that is nothing what the hell do you consider something.)

Maurice by E.M. Forster

Okay, so these are actually two positive reviews but the brief criticisms they offered of the book are SO funny I had to include them.

Obsessed with this man who is so confused about a queer character who enters a comphet relationship at at time when sodomy was literally illegal. Read this book to alienate a heterosexual, I guess.

IF IMPLAUSIBLE IF IMPLAUSIBLE IF IMPLAUSIBLE?????

Literally the reason E.M. Forster wrote the book is because he wanted at least one book to exist that had a happy ending for its queer characters and if you tell me a queer book has an implausibly happy ending for its characters, that just makes me want to read it harder.

Also, I guess we’re just going to forget that E.M. Forster had a forty year long relationship with another man. Perhaps reality is simply implausible.

#i've had the idea to do this for over a year and was procrastinating but one (1) mutual asked me to do and suddenly here it is #not spn #book reviews

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amtrak12 · 3 months

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I'm going to do this ask meme that no one asked me for because I printed and filed about 100 CAD drawings today in the physical office building!!! so you can't stop me :P (Also we used to do this all the time back on LiveJournal without anyone asking first. It's called INFLICTING MY FAVORITES ONTO MY FRIENDS LIST 😆 and I'm bringing it back!)

Lucifer Ask Meme

Favorite Male Character:

🚨Error 404🚨 favorite not found -- but I suppose Lucifer by default??? Although, I have a big ol' soft spot for Amenadiel too. I named my second Chromecast after him 🥰 lol

Favorite Female Character:

EVE who should've been in far more episodes than she was. 😡 Who do I sue for that?

Least Favorite Character:

We're going main cast only here, because villains were never in the running. I'm gonna say.... Dan -- BUT I DON'T HATE HIM like I did during my initial watch! It's important to me that you know that! In fact, by this point, I genuinely love him.... I just love him the least out of everyone lol

(Although, if you go by who I want to explore in fic the least, I'd probably say Ella. Because I will happily write Dan/Dan related fic any day of the week. He has too much juicy stuff to explore in each of his relationships with Chloe, Trixie, and Charlotte.) (... yes, I know I haven't written any fic for him yet. But I would!!!)

Prettiest Character:

EVE! My answer is always Eve

My bb 🥰🥰🥰 ignore my unskilled photoshopping pls

Funniest Character:

Trixie 😂 Or do I have to pick an adult character? Because then I'll say Charlotte Richards because Tricia Helfer being a snarky asshole is always hilarious. Also she's prettier than Lucifer and I won't apologize for saying it 😜

Favorite Season:

SEASON TWO! The one where Chloe and Lucifer fell in love 😍😍😍 Unless you put season 4 in front of my face, in which case my favorite is season 4 because EVE (and also the God tier -- pun intended -- soap drama in the S4 plots. It's good shit XD)

(No I'm 100% serious, Chloe nearly poisoned Lucifer with the aim to perma-ban him to Hell!!! I don't understand why everyone is so mad about it still???? That's a true romance story to me. 😍 The epitome of the Third Act's Darkest Hour if I ever saw one LOLOLOL)

Favorite Episode:

2.13 A Good Day to Die -- that Unsteady scored montage tho!!!!! *swoons* (Yes, I put a YouTube link to watch it. No, I don't care if you've never seen the show before. It's good shit!!!!!) (probably not as good out of context, but again DON'T CARE! 🥰)

Favorite Romantic Ship:

Deckerstar (Lucifer/Chloe). Obviously, yes, Maze/Eve are prettier

Like even their (entirely unedited bc I'm lazy) silhouettes are prettier. I UNDERSTAND THE FACTS, YOU GUYS! However, Lucifer/Chloe are messier, and as a fic writer, I'm going to give the edge to messy. 👍

Favorite Family Ship:

Trixie with her parents (Chloe and Dan) T_T LOOK! The parent/child relationships are a big reason this show managed to sink its hooks into me. (Well... that and the S3 finale wing scene 👀 oops)

(Bonus category, my LEAST favorite family ship: God with each and every one of his children ROTFL 😆 Terrible father. Maybe an okay god idk! But a garbage father. 👎)

Favorite Friendship:

Maze & Linda! (But Maze & Chloe desperately needed to be explored more in later seasons. It's so RUDE how the writers basically dropped them after Maze moved out. Also there's a TOOOOOON of untapped potential in a Chloe-Eve friendship, I'm just saying 👀👀👀)

Worst Ship:

CHLOE/CAIN! 🤮🤮🤮 Obviously they post-date the term by a lot, but this is exactly the kind of ship the word 'squick' was coined for *shudders*

And because I can't leave this on such an icky note....

Funniest Unspoken Joke in the Entire Show:

Charlotte wearing a shirt with Chloe's face on it while Dan gives her the big 'all in' relationship speech. NO ONE POINTS IT OUT IN ANY WAY! But I am fucking dying. 🤣🤣🤣 It's impossible to convey why this is so funny to those of you who haven't seen the show, but here's a Powerpoint slide to try. (click to enlarge, alt text available)

@ Whoever wrote/staged this scene: I'm kissing you on the mouth. 12/10 no notes. 🤣👍👍

#Lucifer #Lucifer TV #Lucifer Netflix #about me #fandom favorites #I may or may not do other fandoms unprompted. I haven't decided yet #But if you have a specific fandom you want to see from me just let me know! I'll definitely do it

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bosspigeon · 4 years

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(hope the blood letting goes well :( ) nate/adam prompts??? lips chapped from the cold // warming the other's hands (or lips, 'cause, i mean)

in the dark, i can hear your heartbeat

Pairing: Adam du Mortain/Nate Sewell Word Count: 2603 Summary: Being sidelined during a mission isn’t too bad, if you ask Nate. Gives him plenty of time to ogle his commander. And maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll get to do a bit more than just ogle.

THIS PROMPT REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME, HUH? Sorry it’s taken me so long to post it, I was just possessed by the spirit of Nate’s Intense Emotional Horniness. Title from “Cosmic Love” by Florence and the Machine~

Mild CW for some intense kissin’ and a bit of fondling, as well as some adult humor, but it doesn’t actually dip into anything too risque. Not for lack of trying on Nate’s part tho 👀

Watching Adam has become something of a self-soothing ritual for Nate over the centuries, even when it hurt him to do so. There was an odd sort of comfort in watching, in tracing the familiar paths of his silent, shackled longing with heavy eyes and quiet avarice. Then, he had to be careful not to overdo it, to make it obvious, however desperate he was to memorize every inch of his commanding agent, as if every moment with him would be the last. Adam’s eyes are sharp, his awareness of himself and how people observe him sometimes bordering on paranoia (though he would gut himself before admitting such weakness) and Nate learned to watch him when he was otherwise occupied, honed in with an intense, single-minded focus on whatever task the Agency had for them.

It became easier, over time, for him to contain the hunger of his gaze, to pick and choose the correct time to indulge himself in admiring the man who gradually became more than simply his superior, but his friend. Nate learned to play it off well when he was caught, to corral his racing heart like an errant beast, and he fervently thanked whatever power would listen to a lost creature like him that Adam’s interpersonal skills were not nearly so sharp as his observational ones. There was guilt, of course. A dark twist of shame that took far too long to shake, the niggling idea that there was something wicked about wanting the way he did, but Adam drew his gaze relentlessly from the very first moment they met. Nate was bedraggled, exhausted in a way beyond the physical, and no longer human, but meeting this steadfast, powerful, beautiful man lit a fire in his belly that warmed him, and even dulled the gnawing there, in a way he could never hope to explain.

He smiles to himself under the cover over darkness as he watches now, flushed with the knowledge that he does not have to hide it anymore.

Adam, body vibrating with restless tension as he watches the shadows, stiffens further when the weight of Nate’s gaze finally breaks through his focus. His spine somehow manages to straighten even further, and Nate’s smile widens, curling with mischief.

“What?” his commander hisses, breath fogging in the chilly gloom. The streets are quiet, and though this area is mostly condemned warehouses and abandoned factories, they lurk in the shadows and avoid the sparse yellow streetlights.

Nate’s smile does not falter, and he simply raises his brows. “Pardon?” he asks innocently.

Adam’s eyes narrow at him. “You are staring. Why?”

And, oh, he really can’t help himself, not when he is still all aflutter with the intoxicating freedom of having what he’s yearned for so long the ache had almost become a part of him. “You look quite striking in this light, is all,” he says. His gaze traces, unbidden, along the strong angle of Adam’s jaw, the proud curve of his nose, the breadth of his shoulders that strain enticingly against his coat, and when it finally drags itself back to his eyes, they are wide and startled. “What? Am I not allowed to admire you?” he teases, daring to slink closer.

“We… we are on a mission,” Adam protests, but his voice lacks the sharp edge of reproach it usually does when he is, say, chiding Mason or Felix.

“Chase, Mason, and Felix are on a mission,” Nate corrects gently, still smiling. “We are keeping watch until they return.”

Adam’s mouth twists, clearly sour about the reminder that they’ve been sidelined. Unfortunately, the mission is one that requires speed and subtlety, and the fewer of them to get in the way, the better. Chase was a rather last-minute addition— one that Adam did not approve of at first—until it was pointed out that his particular talents would be useful getting into the trapper hideout undetected. He even proved his skills by breaking into their Agency SUV without setting off the alarm. “That is still part of the mission,” Adam grumbles, turning away. Nate takes the final step that will get him where he wants to be, which is within touching distance of the brooding commander. Adam stiffens, but stubbornly keeps his gaze turned in the direction of the hideout, little more than a nondescript, barely-lit grey building in the distance. The radio silence makes them both antsy, but Nate takes comfort in knowing their team is a capable one, and if anything were wrong, they would be alerted. Nate allows himself another indulgence, and slides his hand over Adam’s arm. He’s done it countless times before. Even before this change, this new territory to chart, Adam allowed him and their team more intimacy than he allowed anyone else. Casual touches are not new, but now they feel strangely loaded. They carry a new weight.

An intent.

Nate squeezes the hard, tense muscle of Adam’s bicep, and Adam spins to face him again. He seems startled to realize Nate's gotten so close, and one hand comes up to press against his chest. Nate stops, lifts his head, and cocks his brows, waiting. There is a flush creeping up Adam’s cheeks, his breath seems to have frozen in his lungs (luckily he doesn’t really need it), and for a long moment, they simply stare at one another in silence.

Adam exhales in a plume of white mist, leaning forward ever so slightly. A hardly perceptible movement, but Nate has long since learned to read Adam’s gestures, his expressions, his silent requests. He slides his hand over the one on his chest, curling his fingers around it tenderly. “Your hands are cold,” he observes. Adam opens his mouth, likely to make some remark about Nate’s obvious comment, but it freezes before it even reaches the chilly air when Nate pulls the hand to his mouth to breathe warm air over it and rub it between his own. His eyes never leave Adam’s, wide and bright in the darkness, and that enticing flush only deepens when Nate presses his mouth softly to his knuckles. He kisses each one, slowly and sweetly, all the while rubbing circles into Adam's palm. Adam swallows, eyelids fluttering, and his lips part, but all that escapes them is a wordless, shaky little sigh.

And then Nate is being backed into the wall of the building behind them, Adam’s hands balled into the lapels of his coat. Nate’s shoulders hit the drab brick, and Adam crowds in close, green eyes flashing in the gloom. Nate’s hands find his hips, slipping underneath his coat, in part because his hands are somewhat cold as well, but mostly to get as close to skin as he can possibly get. He licks his lips, waiting. He’s waited three centuries for this, he can be patient a little while longer, and allow Adam to come to him when he’s ready.

The first kiss is quick, hardly more than a chaste peck. Adam's lips are cold, a little chapped, and Nate tries to follow them when they pull away. Thankfully, he isn't left wanting for long. Adam seems bolstered by his reaction, and kisses him again, more forcefully. His lips part in a sweet little gasp, and Nate takes the invitation, running his tongue along his lower lip and pulling it playfully between his teeth. He feels the sound that rumbles in Adam's chest more than he hears it, and he can't help but smirk. He hopes Adam can feel it pressed against his mouth, hopes he knows how much Nate delights in every reaction, relishes every little sound, and commits them to memory.

Adam's lips warm quickly against his, and his hands do too, sliding into Nate's open coat to brace against his chest. Nate warms his by tugging Adam's shirt from his belt and slipping his hands underneath. Adam gasps, his belly shuddering and twitching reflexively under his chilly fingers, but he doesn't pull away. If anything, he presses closer, clinging like a man drowning, soft, rough noises slipping helplessly from his mouth into Nate’s. Somehow, his thigh winds up between Adam’s, his hands creeper higher and higher underneath his shirt, inching it up over his belly. They’re pressed so close together, though, that his bare skin doesn’t meet the air.

Nate breaks away from the kiss with a heated gasp, and his wet lips are almost immediately stinging with the cold. It’s Adam’s turn to chase his mouth now, pushing up onto his toes to close the distance between them. He kisses at Nate’s jaw almost frantically, his fingers curling into his shirt, and when Nate doesn’t give him what he wants immediately, he growls.

It should be threatening. Nate has heard Adam growl before. He’s seen him bare his teeth and snarl to intimidate an enemy into backing down, or simply out of annoyance. Adam is a fierce presence when he wants to be, the very picture of an apex predator. Powerfully built, strong, and proud, with eyes that could gut a lesser man with a simple look. Now, growling as he mouths and nuzzles against Nate’s jaw, he just sounds needy.

Nate might die here, but it won’t be because Adam is any sort of threat. It’s easy enough to reverse their positions, pliant as Adam has gotten. It’s shockingly easy, really, and Nate is taken back to their conversation in Adam’s room, the way he simply let himself be spun around and pinned against his own desk, let Nate take whatever he wanted from him. They have sparred, however little Nate cares for it, and Adam’s beaten him every time. There’s no question which of them is physically stronger. The only reason Nate could push him anywhere is if Adam let him do so.

He shudders at the realization, an almost pained groan tearing free of him, and dips his head to catch Adam’s mouth again, earning another growl that he swallows up desperately. He wastes no time in slipping his tongue past Adam’s lips, tasting him with a feverish hunger that blisters with heat so intense he forgets the cold entirely. He gets his thigh between Adam’s legs again, and he pushes up, reveling in the choked moan it earns him. He swallows that too. Nate knows hunger, feels it gnawing at him even now, but even that ever-present, aching reminder of what he is drowns in the wake of this clawing need to get as close as possible, to taste as much of Adam as possible.

He is blearily considering how easy it would be to undo Adam’s fatigues and slip his hand inside, when he is nearly blinded by a sudden light washing over the little alcove they’ve sequestered into.

He snarls, lifting a hand to shield his eyes, and once the starbursts clear from his vision, he sees Chase standing at the mouth of the alleyway, shining his phone’s flashlight over them.

Nate doesn’t need the light to see the smirk curling the detective’s full lips, the wry quirk of his brow. He is flanked by Mason and Felix, who are wearing eerily matching, leering grins at the compromising position in which they’ve found their commanding agent and his second.

Heat rushes to his cheeks, and he peels himself away from Adam’s front (reluctantly, of course—embarrassed as he is, he still yearns to wrap himself around that powerful body and simply refuse to let go) with a sheepish cough. He finds his clothes are a bit… disheveled, to say the least, so he busies himself putting them back into order, risking a glance at Adam to find him hurrying to do the same.

Chase shakes his head disapprovingly and tuts at them. “Really, you two? Canoodling? In the middle of a mission?” He’s still smirking, eyeing them over with that sharp, knowing gaze.

Felix giggles helplessly and whispers “Canoodling” to Mason, who snorts.

“The mission,” Adam snaps, straightening his posture admirably, considering he is still hastily tucking his shirt back into his trousers. “You’ve gotten the information we need?” He sounds faintly breathless, but he hides it well. The pinkness of his lips, noticeably wet and swollen, less so. Nate wonders, a bit hysterically, if their accelerated healing mitigates things like beard burn.

Chase produces a manila folder from inside his jacket and waves it smugly. “Was there ever any doubt?”

“How did it go?” Nate asks, raking his fingers through his hair. “No difficulties, I hope? It’s still quiet.” He glances towards the building in the distance. Still and dimly lit. He breathes a sigh of relief. Even with the distraction, he does worry for his team, and is glad to see they seem no worse for wear. He is also, perhaps, glad to have a distraction from the heat still surging under his skin, the tangle of arousal still burning in his gut, the sharp awareness of Adam standing stiffly at his shoulder, a person-shaped knot of tension.

“In and out,” Mason says with a nod and a little smile playing about his lips. Felix snickers again. “So easy it was almost boring.” The smile widens, and Nate braces for impact. “We definitely didn’t have as much fun as you two did.”

Felix collapses against Chase’s shoulder cackling.

Adam tenses even more, and Nate is concerned he’ll break something with how hard he’s clenching his jaw. “We'll return to the Warehouse and debrief there," he says stiffly, refusing to even deign the teasing with a response. Nate can't help but risk a touch to his lower back, light and barely there, in hopes it will soothe him even a little.

Adam meets his eyes for a fraction of a second, but Nate can feel the way his body loosens ever so slightly, and presses his palm more firmly to his back, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, I bet you're real eager to debrief at least one of us," Felix manages to wheeze out, still recovering from his last little fit.

Adam's spine snaps straight again, and he begins to draw away from Nate's touch, to retreat into himself, to overthink. Chase sees it too, and he elbows Felix sharply in the side to quiet him. Nate takes the moment of distraction and loops his arm around Adam's waist and reels him in to brush a quick kiss to his temple. "Relax," he breathes into his ear.

He waits for Adam to react, keeps his grasp loose, so he can escape if he needs to. He wants this to be easy, but knows it may not be for Adam. This is uncharted territory for them both, but they have always handled uncharted territory in vastly different ways. He cannot expect Adam to simply be ready just because he is.

Adam doesn’t relax, so he begins to step away, keeping his face neutral, his posture loose. The rejection stings a bit, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. A strong hand latches around his wrist before he can withdraw it completely, and Adam’s eyes are stubbornly narrowed when they meet his. Nate smiles, warmth blooming bright in his chest, and curls his arm around Adam even tighter, slipping two fingers through his belt loops. He finally begins to relax, if slowly, and Nate can’t stop smiling.

Mason stomps his feet noisily against the cracked asphalt, interrupting the little moment, and Nate tears his eyes from Adam’s to see him rubbing his arms. “Can we go? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“Is it?” Nate asks brightly, turning towards the black SUV parked deeper in the shadowed alleyway and steering Adam along with him. “I’d hardly noticed.”

#pidge writes #the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfic #adam du mortain #nate sewell #adam/nate #HOO BOY THIS WAS A LONG ONE #i am SO SORRY #it's also messy as hell but i wanted desperately to at least post it before midnight #i hope y'all like it #nate kinda took over and needed to wax poetic about his feelings b*ner #we get it dude #chill maybe #this is kind of a direct sequel to my last adam/nate prompt #they're still figuring everything out #it's probably not easy to change the parameters of a relationship thats been the same for three centuries #but also its probably not easy to contain three centuries of pent up feelings #adam is also sensitive to teasing especially when he's trying to maintain his Commanding Leader persona #but like #this is his family #they love him #they're happy for both of them #but also they are absolutely not going to let them live #anyway ive rambled enough yeehaw #evilbunnyking #the bloodletting DID go well btw!#so well i had to do it TWICE in one week!#and i have to do it again NEXT WEEK

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lizzy-williams · 4 years

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❝𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 & 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜❞

ღWarnings: SMUT (18+ please!), language, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), sexual situations.

ღMasterlist

ღRequest: Can you do the most dirty hard good sexy lovely spanking doggy position french kiss smut EVER please PLEASE with tom 🙂🪓

ღSummary: You’re been in a mood almost all week, Tom having to leave right on Valentine’s Day for filming. The day before he has to leave, you’re the meanest you’ve been, and Tom’s had about enough.

ღA/n: ANON YOU DIRTY BEAN I LOVE YOU. This will be the first thing I’m posting since I came back, So I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to send in more requests.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 in a mood the entire week. More specifically at your boyfriend, who chose a job that somehow, someway got him taken away right on Valentine’s Day.

Even worse, this would be your 5th Valentine’s Day together, which you saw as a mile stone. You knew you were being irrational and a bit selfish, but you were too blinded by your anger to realize it.

For the time being, you were giving Tom hell, inside and outside your small flat. On Monday, you and Tom went out for coffee, but of course, being the little minx you are, you teased him right then and there, in public, and you managed to turn Tom into a needy, whiny child with only a few touches.

But when the two of you got home, you did a full 180, becoming completely distanced and untouchable, evading every advance Tom tried to make on you. You just kept all your attention on Tessa for a majority of that day.

At first, Tom was clueless, the sudden distancing confusing the hell out of him, but it only escalated from there.

On Tuesday, you had some things to do for work, and there you sat on the couch, typing away on your computer before Tom, still flustered and needy from yesterday, came waltzing into the living area and plopped down right next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

Yet you sat there, still typing away, acting as if Tom wasn’t there at all. Tom adjusted himself a few times, seeing if his movements gained any attention or reaction from you. Still. Nothing.

Now he resulted to sighing loudly, and due to where his head was, it was right in your ear. It was erotic or teasing, it was just straight up annoying and childish.

You finally pried your eyes away from the screen and turned to look at him, “Do you want something?” was all the response he was going to get, and even then it was a grumble.

“I wanna cuddle.”

He sounded so much like a kid, and in any other circumstance, you would tend to his request. But no. You were mad at him.

“I’m working, Tom.”

That’s when Tom knew something was definitely wrong. No usual ‘bubba’ or ‘bub’. Not even honey. Just his first name. Not even his full first name. Just Tom.

You felt him recoil and slip away into the other room.

Tom: 0, You: 2

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Wednesday rolled around, and Tom was talking to Harrison on the phone. Once again, you had been giving him the bare minimum all day, but when you kissed him, it was long, passionate and lingering. And Tom was, to say the least, baffled.

“I dunno, man, she’s been like this all week.”

You happened to be in earshot, and slipped behind a doorframe, listening in on what Tom had to say.

“No, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. I’ve even been making an effort to put the toilet seat down, and somehow she keeps being so distant. I even tried hugging her from behind this morning and she just brushed me off.”

That one was true. You were making yourself lunch when Tom, who woke up late as usual, came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist, but staying true to your previous attitude, you brushed him off, using the stove as an excuse. But instead of reassuring him, like you normally would have, you turned and gave him a purple and red hickey on his sweet spot before turning back around and acting as if nothing had happened at all.

“No, it’s not that time of the month, she already had it. I kinda know these things.”

That was also true. Because you and Tom had such a frequent and vibrant sex life, he made it a personal mission to know when your period came so he could work around it and comfort you. All things aside, he truly was a good boyfriend.

“Ohhhhh,” he made a sound of realization and it made you perk up a little, wondering if he truly understood why you were so evasive.

Wait, did he?

The sound of his footsteps clamoring down the hall made you frantically look around for something to look busy with.

“Darling?” he called out.

“In here!” you called out, trying to sound unbothered.

“Ah, Darling,” he seemed giddy, as if he had just solved the worlds biggest mystery, “I know why your angry at me.”

“Oh?” you questioned, as you kept fiddling with whatever you were doing, acting as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You were upset about the paparazzi pictures. The ones with Ciara.”

“What?!” you seethed, now not caring about acting like you didn’t care.

“Th-The other day, when I went out to lunch, you knew about it...?” he was terrified by the look in your eyes.

He was being honest. He did say he was going out with the female co-star, and you were okay with it. You trusted him. But what you didn’t think about were the tabloids. The gossip sights that would no doubt leak into Twitter, causing an un-needed uprising in Hollanders and shippers.

Immediately you pushed passed him and went straight for your phone, looking up news sight after news sight.

Ciara Bravo and Tom Holland: New Hollywood Couple???

Tom & Ciara, A Valentine’s Day Miracle

Did Y/N and Tom SPLIT? Ciara and Tom Spotted!

At this point you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Tom. Despite him and you understanding there was nothing going on, the outside world put pressure on the both of you, and you needed to breathe.

Tom didn’t say a word when you got your coat and left with a ‘I’m going out. Don’t wait up.’

By time you got home, Tom slept on the couch, and you slept in the bed.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Tuesday was quiet, nothing happened. The two of you didn’t speak to each other, a day going by silently, but when you were going to bed, that’s when things got interesting.

“It isn’t my fault.”

He stood in the bathroom as he spoke, and you were on the bed reading a book with Tessa at your side, sound asleep.

You gave a small, unbothered sigh, “I know.”

Tom perked up, “What do you mean, ‘you know’?” he asked irritably.

“I mean I know it isn’t your fault about the media. I don’t care, it’s fine.”

“Then why are you so mad at me?!” he was annoyed now, making you raise a brow.

“You really don’t know?” you hissed, closing your book, not caring if you lost your page or not.

“No, of course I don’t know!”

“You’re leaving me! On Valentines Day!” you snapped, standing up, Tessa’s ears going back.

“Are you serious??? That’s it?” he questioned with wide eyes.

You glared at him, giving him an expression that only meant one thing, slipping out of the room without a word.

Needless to say, you slept on the couch that night .

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Friday. The day before Tom leaves. The day before Valentine’s day.

And as always, you woke up before Tom, hearing Tessa scratch at the bedroom door from the inside. You walked down the hall, turning the bedroom door handle slowly and letting Tessa out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of your sleeping boyfriend in nothing but boxers, holding onto your pillow as he slept.

Thats when the idea popped into your head. You were going to make a lovely Valentine’s day themed breakfast. For yourself.

If there was any way to get Tom back, it was with food, your food more specifically.

You immediately got to work, prepping the veggies for the omelette, mixing the batter for waffles, and washing the strawberries, planning on using them for a garnish.

You worked for a good hour, almost everything done, the last thing being cutting the strawberries when you suddenly heard the bedroom door open.

Tom walked out, his curly hair all a mess on top of his head, purposefully not wearing anything except for his Calvin’s, and you shamelessly checked him out, in hopes that would get him going.

Before he got too close, you whipped back around and began slicing in the berries in front of you. Just like he did the many mornings ago, he let his arms wrap around you right before you felt him leave a small peck below your earlobe, and you had to bite back a smile.

“Good morning, darling.”

Fuck. His morning voice. It was rough, deep, and gravely, making your stomach do summersaults and slick glisten between your legs.

“Morning.”

The sexual tension was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the knife in your hand. But you needed to stay strong. You were mad. You were still mad....

Right?

“Are those for me?” he questioned, motioning to the breakfast platter you had spread on the kitchen island, complete with a glass of OJ.

You did a silent self-pat on the back.

“Nope,” you smirked, before popping a strawberry in your mouth.

His demeanor switched, “That’s it-”

You squeaked as he took the knife from your hands, throwing it into the sink before sweeping his hands across the counter, knocking the cutting board aside, roughly grabbing your hips and putting you on the counter.

“I’ve just about had it with your attitude,” he growled, pulling his semi-hard-on out of his boxers before grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy, lustful kiss, his tongue diving in the instant that his lips touched yours, making you whimper out, trying you best to regain control of the situation but failing quickly.

A sudden smack to your ass made you quit your pursuit of control, a whine finding it’s way out of your throat as you felt him smirk into the kiss. His tongue prodded around your mouth as you held onto him desperately. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his member pressing right up against your clothed clit, daring him to do whatever he was going to do next.

Suddenly, he picked you up off the counter, breaking the kiss and pushing you down to your knees, harshly, shoving his member against your cheek.

“Suck. I’m not gonna ask nice again,” he grunted, and you knew that he would keep his word with this one.

You hesitantly took him in your hands before stocking him slightly, sticking your tongue out and licking a strip from his base to his tip, before taking it in your mouth, using your tongue to tease the angry veins and ridges on the underside of his cock.

“Oh - FUCK - you’re so fucking precious.” he hissed, his hand weaving in your hair before pulling you down on his cock, going so deep it touched the back of your throat, praying that your gag reflex was on your side.

Suddenly he pulled you back, before pulling you all the way back onto him, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeated his movements, using your face and whispering obscenities into the air around you, harshly fucking your mouth.

“My bratty girl, shit, you sound so much better choking on my cock,” he grunted, his pace suddenly faltering, cock twitching, signaling he was about to release.

He looked down and his eyes widened as he caught sight of your hips moving slowly and gently. You were so cute like that, humping the air like a little bunny, Tom taking immense pride in the fact that he made you like this.

Without another warning, you felt his cum fill the back of your throat, making you whine as you had no choice to swallow it all, knowing he wouldn’t take his cock out of your mouth until you did so.

Tom watched tentatively for the bobbing of your throat. The one indication that you swallowed. You shivered slightly as you felt the salty substance make it’s way down your throat, and he finally, finally, pulled himself out, and you gasped for air.

Tom admired your fucked out state, tears wetting your cheeks and your lips swollen, hair ruined from his grip. He could have you looking like that...

He used one hand to stroke and caress your cheek, the other smoothing out your hair the best he could before standing you back up, your eyes dazed as you looked at him with pleading eyes, your past angers forgotten as you were desperate for his touch.

“Go to the bedroom, strip, lay down, ass up darling. Wait. You touch yourself and I’ll leave you there for the rest of the night, understand?” he hissed before you nodded, scampering off down the hall.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You waited on the bed as you were told, your back arched as you put your ass in the air, your head resting in your arms as you scowled slightly impatiently. It had been 5 minutes since Tom promised he’d be back, and yet there you were.

You began to play with the sheets between you fingers as you sighed quietly to yourself. But your head propped up slightly when you heard the sound of the door swinging open, a now completely nude Tom stepping through, a small box in his hands.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but now seems like a much more... fitting time,” his smile was devious as he opened the small box, pulling out a thick, bullet shaped piece of equipment.

Right as he twisted the bottom, you heard it buzz softly, and the realization hit you like a ton a bricks: the realization that this was going to be a long night. He stalked around you like a predator trying to catch pray, and you felt the bed dip behind you, and you heard him let out a sigh of content as he looked at your completely wet pussy, courtesy of the events earlier in the kitchen.

“Fuck, you look so pretty all wet like this for me... this is for me, right darling?” he kneaded your ass in his hands before you could answer, “Who am I kidding, of course it’s for me.”

You knew what was coming next, knowing how much Tom loved your ass, and jus as expected, you felt his tongue lick a long, rough lick from your clit to your rim, making you jolt forwards slightly.

Soon enough you felt two of his fingers plunge inside of your pussy, making you moan sweetly into the open air of the bedroom. His movements made the coil inside you tighten and spark, your need for release becoming more and more apparent.

But the sudden buzzing on your clit made you lose your mind, release coming sooner than expected, your cunt squeezing around Tom’s fingers like a vice as you moaned out, breathless as his pace never faltered, his speed, (if anything), increasing as your body shook.

Even after your high was ridden out, he continued, making you gasp.

“T-Tom, I can’t, I can’t I- AHHH!” your babbling was cut of by another sudden shock through your cunt, making you scream out in such quick pleasure.

“Holy fuck, so wet-” Tom was in awe of your actions, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what just happened.

You just squirted.

Tom wasted no time getting down there and sucking your clit harshly, his movements driving you crazy as you tried to collect your thoughts and make a complete sentence.

He was so high on you, so drunk on your taste as he continued to taste and tease every part of your most sensitive place.

“P-Please Tom,” you begged, shifting.

Please what? Please keep going? Please stop?

“Please fuck me,”

It was a soft whimper, oh so soft, but he heard it, and it drove him crazy. He sat up and positioned his newly hardened, throbbing member up to your entrance. Without a second thought, he pushed in the tip with ease.

You silently thanked god for the slick of your cunt as he drove in farther, and to your surprise, he waited. Waited until you were ready. He knew that no matter how many times he fucked you, you would always be tighter than hell. So he waited. He always did.

But as soon as you nodded, his demeanor flipped again like a light switch, drawing himself out and slamming himself back in. Soon enough he set a rough and punishing pace, throwing you back onto him like a rag-doll as your body went limp, letting him use you.

You jerked when you felt him land a slap on your ass, knowing he enjoyed the way it move after he did so, before kneading the flesh, planning on repeating his actions.

You were whimpering and keening at his movements and pants, the feeling of him pounding into you taking you over, and the only thing you could think about was him.

Him, him, him.

Not the fact that he had to leave the following morning, or the fact that the tabloids were a nuisance. Just that fact that you were completely fucked out and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Shit, darling, so. Fucking. Good,” he grunted, punctuating his final words with harsh, long, hard thrusts, accompanied with slaps to your already sensative ass.

His pace was faltering, dick twitching, his pants getting more frequent and louder. You knew he was getting close, the sight of you so out of it only spurring it on.

“C-Cum for me, Tommy,” you whimpered, making his thrusts almost come to a full halt, “Cum inside me, please,”

Tom knew you were on the pill, and it was always for other reasons, and he usually pulled out, more as a personal preference to you. But now that you wanted him to claim you, so intimately and so passionately, his movements went from 0 to 100, before he felt himself snap.

This of course made you plummet backwards off the cliff of ecstasy, the both of you coming together as a symphony of moans and whines and growls filled the air around you, your body feeling as if it were floating as your ears rang.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You both fucked like rabbits till noon, the both of you feeling drunk off each other’s touch, just not getting enough. You were both starved all week after all. And it took it’s toll.

By time you two were done, your body was weak, your muscles completely spent and you heartbeat doing it’s best to settle down. You felt Tom’s arms help pull you up, laying you on your back and disappearing into the bathroom.

When he came back, it was with a warm, wet washcloth, and be began slowly wiping up his mess, whispering praise and words of admiration while doing so. You found your eyes closing as you basked in the attention and after-glow of orgasm. He was completely in love with you, he couldn’t stop if he tried.

Tossing the rag off the the side, you felt the area beside you dip before you were greeted with Tom’s arms, once again, finding home around your body, and you immediately leaned into his touch, laying your head softly on his chest as he played with your hair.

The both of you enjoyed the silence. His other hand drifted up and down your arm, making goosebumps erupt in its wake, the space to think being larger than life.

Finally, you spoke.

“I’m sorry.” you muttered, holding him just a little bit closer. But Tom being Tom, you knew he would milk it as much as he could.

“For?”

You sighed, embarrassed that you had to admit it out loud, “For being a bitch all week. I was just angry. It wasn’t fair to you. Ergo, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. But you’re buying me coffee on the way to the airport tomorrow morning,” he insisted.

That’s when your senses finally took in the fact that it was still light outside. The clock on your bedside table read a shocking 12:23 pm, and you let a small smirk creep across your face at the Valentine’s Day sex you were truly going to be missing out on.

Sure, it still made you sad that he was leaving. But knowing Tom, you knew he would do something special for you, no matter how far away you were. Besides, there was hours of Facetime sex to be had, and you couldn’t wait for that.

“Do you want lunch?” you questioned quietly, your hand gently gliding up and down Tom’s abs, which always felt like you were touching marble stone.

“Yeah. You’re buying though,” he contested, and you smirked.

“Nope. I’m making. I was thinking tomato soup and grilled cheese,”

You knew it was one of Tom’s favorites, one of the few things on this planet that Tom would die for, (besides you, of course).

“That would be lovely, darling.”

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“I’m gonna miss the fuck outta you,” you whined, standing at the gates, your doe eyes peering up at him as you held his hands.

“I’ll be back before you know it, love, and you can text me and call me at the end of every day. I can even fly you out to visit if you want.”

Tom was doing his best to soften the blow of him leaving; it was hard on both of you, and it was supposed to be for 2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days. You hated it.

“Love you,” you grumbled like a child, before hugging him with all your might, trying to remember this feeling to keep you company.

“I love you most,” he challenged, making you pull back to rest your chin on his chest before leaning up and giving him a kiss, but it turned heated quickly.

Before it could get any more hot and heavy (because the paparazzi are VULTURES), you pulled away.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you replied.

Suddenly the lady on the overhead speakers began to talk, “All first class passengers on flight 32-B to Atlanta, Georgia, is now boarding.”

“That’s me,” he sighed.

Tears pricked your eyes unexpectantly, and before Tom could see them, you gave him one last, rib crushing hug.

He pulled back with a smile, waving a wordless goodbye, walking away, but not without giving you one last look, mouthing the words:

‘Happy Valentine’s Day’

THANK YOU FOR 1K!!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!!!

#tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker smut #mcu smut #tdatt #arvin russel #Arvin Russell #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x reader

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sortasirius · 4 years

Text

“Carry On” and...Yikes.

Well clowns, looks like the clown calls were coming from inside the house this entire time.

I so desperately wish I wasn’t writing this right now. I so wish that I could be writing something better, something joyful, something happy about this fifteen year journey with these characters. It seems as though the show had other ideas, so in we go.

So...the dog was cool. Also interesting that Dean was back to his breakup/grieving coping mechanisms: not making his bed, messy room, beer all over the place, Sam making breakfast, etc.

So I guess I better just start off with how...off this episode felt in regards to Dean specifically. Idk why he suddenly wanted a dog and Sam had no real interest in one, since the opposite has been true for, idk, fifteen years, but whatever, I was willing to let it go.

I thought the pie thing was a sweet scene, it was funny and nice and a good button on Dean’s pie thing.

Weird to, you know, bring up Cas and not mention his tragic ass deal and why he got got, but whatever.

I cannot physically believe that this MOTW aspect was, quite literally, so much of the plot. Like...we figured that it was going to be an aspect, but for it to be SO MUCH? Bruh. I am such a fucking fool lmfao.

Again, cool to see Cas’ coat in the back. Too bad it wasn’t addressed.

Jenny. Bitch. Come on. Of ALL the villains in the FIFTEEN YEARS of Supernatural. Jenny. Who was in....one....episode. Ok.

I mean that line about the high school thing was funny, I did laugh at that moment. Fuck I love Dean Winchester.

I cannot believe I specced so much about the barn scene. Are y’all telling me that “The Night We Met” is being claimed by......Sam and Dean. Fuck off.

I mean, I thought Dean was going to die, and the scene actually did play out pretty similarly to how I thought. It was probably the most powerful moment in the episode. I am very glad that it was Dean’s choice, his choice and his peace to let go.

“Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam.”

I do love this, I love this because Dean is able to look at his work, the man that he raised, and tell him these things. He was Sam’s parent, he raised Sam into the man he is today, and he should be damn proud of that.

I do love this most of scene, I really do, I love my boys, these brothers so damn much, and at least, at the very least, I have this scene of them.

Forehead touch was weird, I’m just gonna say it.

I feel like most of this episode was montages lol. I mean I always hate sad Sam but at this point I still fully felt like we were going to get closure and we just...didn’t.

The Austin number was a cool detail, I liked that bc I picked up on it right away (since, you know, my phone is a 512 number lmao).

What a lackluster goodbye to the Bunker. I had no clue that was going to be the last time we saw it ever.

FUCK AT LEAST I GOT MY DAMN HEAVEN BAR.

The scene with Bobby was nice, it was good to see him. We did get our remade Heaven, that’s also nice to know.

“It ain’t just Heaven, Dean. It’s the Heaven you deserve.”

He does deserve this. An open Heaven, the people he loves, finally some peace, he deserves that, and I am glad that he got it.

Our second Cas mention. Great. Thanks guys.

I mean thanks Jim and Jensen for the microexpressions I guess lmao.

So I am supposed to believe. That Dean. Whose entire arc has been speaking his truth, specifically speaking his truth to Cas. Where he has been stopped twice before this season. Is going to just drive around in circles for forty years until Sam gets there? Yeah, that’s gonna be a no from me, dawg.

And Sam gets married and has a kid that he names Dean, and the unspecified dark haired woman in the back of the ten minute montage is supposed to be enough for me to buy that it’s Eileen? Bruh.

Also it’s BACK TO BACK MONTAGES??? WITH TWO VERSIONS OF CARRY ON WAYWARD SON?

Sam’s age makeup???? Hello???? AT FIRST THEY DIDN’T EVEN AGE HIM THEY JUST PUT HIM IN A WIG?????

That cover of Wayward Son did slap but was it enough? No.

Even that bridge moment didn’t hit right because Sam didn’t cross it? He was just suddenly there.

It just fucking sucks. It sucks that their reunion doesn’t land right because they...didn’t do anything when they were apart. Sam had his kid sure but Dean literally just drove around. No mention of Cas or of Eileen. Nothing. So the last moment of this show I love feels tainted and hollow and just wrong.

It sucks. I’m not going to lie. But the worst thing about it? Is that it doesn’t make any sense. I have not spent two years of my life picking apart the writing rooms in Supernatural, lauding this current team for what they’ve accomplished for it to end like this. I know many of you will regard me as a complete tinhat freak right now, but this, to me, does not feel like an episode that Andrew Dabb wrote. Hell, it doesn’t feel like an episode of Supernatural.

None of the arcs were completed: Dean didn’t get to speak his truth to Cas, Sam never got to become the leader, the legacy hunter he was meant to. We don’t see them with Cas or Eileen, we don’t even hear about them.

Listen, there’s a lot that...simply doesn’t add up to me. First of all, the episode was SHORT, and most of it was montages. They had four montages AND the episode was only 38 minutes. The series finale of the show was shorter than any other episode and had four multiple minute montages. Okay. Make it make sense. Newsflash: it doesn’t, there is simply no way I can believe that there weren’t massive cuts and reworks done to this episode on an executive level.

I know there are people who will tell me that the writers are just bad and I need to accept that they gave me a shitty ending, but after all this time with this story, especially with Dabb’s arc, he just...doesn’t do shit like this. His arcs are always complete, always tied up well, always have a button. But this mess? This confusing episode that left everything hanging with a cover of Wayward Son hanging in the air? It just doesn’t add up to me.

This wasn’t the story they were telling, this hasn’t been the story they were telling all season, and I stand by that.

So, I sure do wish I could give you a better post. I wish that we had gotten something better. I still, after everything, love this show, and will still be here in the morning.

Thanks guys. Love y’all.

#my meta #supernatural #spn writers #spoilers #spn 15x20 #spn #this was upsetting to write but hey i knew i had to

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years

Text

Genshin: Roommate HCs [V1]

To be honest, I just wanted to ramble some more and let my brainworms take over. This is sorta late but Happy Valentine’s everyone! I was gonna post this earlier but this honestly took me a long time to write so I moved it to today.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. Seriously, as much as I love writing this non-serious fics. Why do you people like this?

—

Based off my ramblings with Keqing anon: Link

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

—

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @kaechu @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @rokipersonal@minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact

---

Diluc

What? Diluc has a roommate? Did you blackmail him in living with you? Is that even possible? Did you throw yourself in front of his car because you needed someone to pay for your student loans and the easiest way was to file a lawsuit? In this economy no one would blame you. Diluc seems like such the self-isolated character that would murder his roommate in cold blood but in reality, he act’s detached from the world because he forgot how to socialize and he’s desperately trying to cover it up without choking. That or he’s trying to learn how to astral project. If he could drink away the pain he would but instead he buys 20 packs of grape Kool-Aid and injects it into his veins.

Does not and will not ever have a normal sleeping schedule. You’ll wake up to him working, come back home to him working, and will sleep to him still working. His daily dose of Vitamin D is from the brightness of his screen rather than the sun and he’s filter feeding at this point. It’s concerning. He’s going to crumble and he’s bringing the world down with him. Through the power of tax evasion. But as soon as he needs to walk out into society, he pulls movie magic and looks like perfection. It’s both physically and mentally disgusting.

He’s actually is a really nice roommate to have just so long as you give him space. Great cook and knows to clean up after himself. Though he does have crash and burn days where’s he’s completely out of commission. You could set the entire apartment on fire and he would sleep through it. The entire two weeks are dedicated to zombie eye marathons and then he’ll suddenly collapse and sleep for 46 hours straight. When he wakes up from his hibernation he’s the most groggy and nonsensical person. His life blood is coffee because you keep hiding the 5 hour energy away from him because, you know, life is enjoyable and those cancer bottles will actually kill him.

“University sucks our money out of our bodies faster than our will to live.”

Beidou [Happy Birthday Queen 💕]

Despite her appearance, she’s actually really strong and it scares the piss out of you when you’re doing something or scrolling through your phone mindlessly and you suddenly get your spine re-arranged when she slaps you on the back to ask what you’re doing. Likewise, when she hoists you up and throws you over her shoulder so you come with her on her 3am convivence store raids for alcohol. It’s either you change now or else we’re walking out of the apartment in your t-shirt and no pants self. She can and will carry you under her arm that way. It’s both incredibly attractive and horrifying at the same time.

She’s really friendly and a great talker if you’re alright with her “I must hold you in my arms, fresh prince of bel air style”. It doesn’t matter if you’re taller than her, she’s doing it. She does however, get in a bit of trouble from her rowdiness and you often get noise complaints but Beidou just passes them off to Ningguang and everything is fixed. She has ovaries of steel when neighbors rather confront her personally and she’s ready to 1v1 in the parking lot. You’re trying to desperately hold onto her shirt to stop her from pile driving your neighbors for the third time this week but she’s too strong.

She’s constant party until we die attitude and suffers the hangover in the morning. It’s actually really funny to catch her in her hangover moods because whatever filter Beidou had, which is none, is gone. She really takes “cursing like a sailor” or the next level and the amount of creativity she comes up with is actually impressive. She can be a bit messy but she’s really likeable and always down to go anywhere with you as long as you’ll do the same. It’s a very ride together, we die together situation. You’re my best friend, you’re dying with me. I’ll see you in hell.

“Imma T pose over my dad and then crash the car into the parking garage.”

Kaeya

Kaeya on the surface seems like such a chill roommate. And he is for the most part. But he’s such an ass. Your things are his things, no questions asked. If you just bought a really nice sweater or you had leftover food, that’s his now. He’s innocent until proven guilty even if he’s literally holding your lunch. The pure amount of bullshit he can spit out to convince you that no, he did not pull the fire alarm because he wanted an excuse for not going to work, puts him on Shakespeare level. He’s also very pretty, way too pretty, sir can you share some of your genes?

But aside from that, he’s actually super dependable. You forgot something at home? Sure, he has nothing better to do so he can bring them for you. We’re missing eggs? No problem, he’s just by the store. You’re 95% sure that he just wants to be cheeky and make you thank him for 20 minutes before he actually hands you what you asked for. It’s better for you if you never tell him anything you’re afraid of because Kaeya has no social cues, or more like he throws them out the window, and he’s probably a psychopath.

He’s incredibly private of his room and things despite his attitude towards yours. You’re convinced he either has a secret lab or that’s where he’s storing the bodies. I was the good guy but due to unfortunate circumstances, I need to stab a bitch. But he’s a really good serious talker for those 3am, because everything happens at 3am, talks about life and the meaning of the universe. It absolutely wrecks your sleep schedule but some of the things you talk about are the most crackhead things like what’s the lowest amount of money someone would have to pay you to walk outside without clothes? It’s a legitimate question.

“Never before have I been so offended with something I 100% agree with.”

Jean

Okay, what world did you save in a past life to live with his absolutely wonderful woman? Mother Teresa take a load off, take a seat. You have nothing to worry about. She’ll bring home little treats back home and it’s the most wholesome thing ever?? Is this what love and affection feels like? We’ve been starved for so long. She says it’s not a big deal and anyone would do it BUT THE MOMENT SOMEONE BUYS FOOD FOR YOU. IT’S A MAGICAL MOMENT. They are forever stuck in your will until proven otherwise. An absolute ray of sunshine that must be protected.

She does get super busy so you don’t often see each other or get to hang out as much. She’s a bit of a workaholic but a lot more easier to talk her into taking a break. She’s also a pretty decent cook but she prefers baking and jesus christ, girl can you calm down? Be still my beating heart, I’ve been smitten. Has mother hen vibes that you’re not sure if she’s your roommate or if she adopted you into her family. It’s time to start a petition for the Jean protection squad. Given the opportunity, I would aggressively hold your hand.

She’s always open to whatever you want to do. Any recommendations or things that you like she will try out at least once despite her busy schedule. She’s lowkey lonely because work consumes her so any time you want to hang out or do something together, she jumps on it like she’s feral. She get’s a bit shy to ask if she can join in on your plans because she doesn’t want to bother you or intrude no matter how many times you tell her that’s okay, she still get’s a bit iffy about it. Please save this girl before she trips. In your arms. Platonically. Just kidding haha. Unless?

“I can’t wait to see you happy and not hating everyone again haha.”

Childe

First impressions of Childe were great, until he opened his mouth and you realized how much of a two brain cell child(e) he was. He has two braincells because they constantly have to 1v1 in his brain. He’s lived with a lot of siblings so he has no social awareness or concept of privacy that you’re lucky if you come home and he’s half-dressed. It doesn’t matter if you’re 2 weeks older than him, he’s going to call you 82 years old and why your bones aren’t being fossilized at this point. He’s such a little shit, this fucker licks the yogurt lid peel.

He get’s really restless when he’s stuck under house arrest, because apparently 1v1ing in the parking lot of a Wendy’s is illegal for some reason, so he makes dying whale noises until he get’s to go outside again. But he’s actually a really wholesome guy, probably because of his younger siblings, that he’ll sometimes get you something because you seemed down and it’s such whiplash? Who is this man and where did he come from? You’re starting to have a change of heart before he tells you that he got banned from the library for accidently punching the school’s computer. How you “accidently” punch something you have no idea but Childe always comes home with some sort of injury. Maybe he’s just incredibly clumsy. For your sanity, you’re going to go with that.

He’s actually so uncultured that it’s crippling. You can’t blame him too much considering his upbringing and it’s great that he’s so interested in learning new things but...child no...It makes you want to take your spine out of your ass and rip it like a Beyblade. Watching him take chopsticks and stab his food like it’s marshmallows makes you want to fall into a blackhole and let the chair consume you.

“I, too, fantasize about beating the living shit out of people.”

---

Is this another tag yourself game cause I resonate with Diluc. I’m crying in insomnia. As much as I enjoy writing these fics I absolutely hate tagging them. I remember I used to have a tag anon but that was back when I wrote for bnha.

Valentine’s Day was fun tho. I had a drinking game with friends as we played league then ended it off with a movie night.

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akaashisbabygirl · 3 years

Text

you’re just a game he likes to play

pairings: akaashi x female!reader

genre: angst, romance, NSFW 18+

warnings: use of drugs, drinking, vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), angst angst angst

words: 2.6k

a/n: i’m sorry for not posting as much. i’ve always wondered how people write really long fics, and here i am. i spent last night + this morning working on this, so i hope you all enjoy <3 this i planned to be a one shot so i probably won’t be doing a part two

‘are you awake right now?’

akaashi’s fingers ghosted over his phone, a slight cringe filling his mind as he thought about sending the message. eventually, everyone around him started to pick up on his quiet, drunken tone.

“who’s the girl you’re texting?” kenma asked.

“it’s no one...” he said back softly, locking his phone. as much as he tried to play it off as if he wasn’t texting anyone, he knew that one of the boys were going to comment about it sooner or later.

“come on man, we all know it’s hayami,” kuroo interrupted. akaashi knew kuroo meant it as a joke. as much as akaashi knew that kuroo was joking, yet there was still that smirk that rested on kuroo’s face that akaashi was so desperate to punch. it had been a year since akaashi had fallen out of love with hayami, a girl he knew he stood no chance with.

within that year, things had changed. he never used to drink or anything. he had changed so much. it bugged him whenever the other men talked about love and girls. he started to think why it couldn’t be him, why he couldn’t be the one talking about a girl he loves. he wanted to express the love he felt for the girl that ended up catching him by surprise when he least expected. the same type of love that everyone thought was for hayami.

one thing that akaashi was clear of was that he was deeply, and drunkenly in love with you.

like his friends knew, there had been a time in his life when he was in love with hayami. but after finding out that she had hooked up with one of his high school friends after she had told him that she loved him, akaashi started to fall out of love; and while he was in his broken state was when you came along. just when he needed.

everyone in the group was sure that akaashi was going to always be in love with hayami, only because she was said to be the hottest girl on campus; and he himself was a very good looking guy. everyone wanted her. unfortunately, akaashi’s friends couldn’t see that the love he had once felt for her had now died down into the pit of his chest.

however, despite telling himself that he had fallen out of love with hayami, he also hid behind the thoughts of your beautiful soft hair and the way you felt so small compared to him behind the fact that he still loved hayami. because, what is the point of loving someone who is just your closest friend?

akaashi brought the glass of alcohol to his lips once more, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat. he sighed as he just about finished his third glass. had the room gotten louder? it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t make out the words of what his friends were saying. it was just too loud.

he desperately wanted to text you. he wanted to send you cute messages about wanting to cuddle you, and kiss you and about how much he misses your touch and how he loves the feeling of your tiny body against his. after his third glass, those thoughts began to turn sexual. he felt different. had the others given him something?

he remembered asking kuroo earlier in the night for something that would ‘take his mind off of everything’, maybe kuroo had given him something. his hands held onto the glass again as he watched the man across from him fill his glass again.

his hands fiddled with his phone again. he so desperately wanted to message you right now, but his mind was clouded with sexual thoughts that he had never thought about before. he thought about how good he would be able to fill you up, how small you would be against him. he closed his eyes and sighed to the thought mentally. he wasn’t a pervert, at least he thought he wasn’t.

the two of you were just friends. he respected the boundaries of your friendship. he wasn’t going to push you, he didn’t even know if you felt the same way about him. but once again, his mind and everyone around him kept telling him that he was in love with hayami.

‘stick with the girl that all your friends know you love. you don’t wanna ruin your friendship with her’ said the narrator inside his mind, as if he was telling akaashi what to do instead of letting him figure this madness out on his own.

akaashi stood up from the chair, making his way to the bathroom. after minutes, he was looking at his messy reflection in the bathroom mirror. he knew it was time to go home. he could see it in his reflection. he was drunk. drunk and in love. he wanted you by his side right now. maybe fixing his jacket or his hair. how you would be on your tiptoes just to try and reach him. how fucking cute. or how you would stand on your tiptoes to try and reach his lips.

akaashi left the house, standing outside on the street waiting for a cab to pull up.

“what’s the address?” the man asked.

without a thought, he gave the man your street name. space and time had began to blur, his phone in his hands as the thought of you rushed throughout his mind.

you were in your room, sitting on your bed in an oversized shirt. your eyes scanned along the messages what you had just received from akaashi.

‘are you awake?’ 2:43AM

one missed call. 2:49AM

‘i miss you’ 2:54AM

‘i need your touch’ 2:58AM

one missed call. 3:02AM

‘need you so badly’ 3:06AM

he was high.

you knew he was. there was no way in hell akaashi would ever text you like this. he was in love with hayami. you were sure about this. you felt a stinging pain in your chest because it was obvious that you were deeply in love with akaashi keiji. you hated the way you were so badly separated from even being close to a relationship with him because the narrator in your mind always came back to remind you that akaashi was in fact in love with hayami.

your fingers typed back.

‘i am not hayami. you have the wrong contact’ 3:10AM

there was no reply back. you thought that maybe he reached hayami’s apartment and that he was currently somewhere with her right now. you threw a pillow over your head.

he was such an amazing man. you had fallen in love with the person that he is, how he would always be there whenever you needed him so desperately. he helped you when you were down. it made you mad that hayami only wanted akaashi for his popularity around campus and not for the amazing person that he is.

it was hard to try and get over those feeling that were painfully stabbing your heart. you wanted to be with him. god, you wanted to be with him so fucking badly. but you knew that it would never happen.

because akaashi was in love with hayami.

the sound of knocking on your door threw you out of your haze. you checked your phone. no new messages from him. you opened the door, your eyes widening as his drunken state stood right in front of you. you hated to admit that he always took your breath away, even right now. he was so tall compared to you.

“can i come in?” his voice asked softly.

you nodded your head, opening your door further so he could come inside.

akaashi sat himself down on your couch. he looked lost. he was lost. he watched as you sat down next to him, your eyes not even looking in his direction.

“are you... um... cold?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

you shook your head, silence running throughout the apartment.

“let me stay,” he blurted out. in fact, he had surprised you.

“you’re drunk,” you hated to admit the fact that his tone was deep and intoxicating.

your fingers gripped his chin harshly, fingers digging into his jaw. you looked directly into his eyes. “and i don’t want to sit here and listen to you drunkenly express your love for hayami. not tonight.”

he watched as you pulled away from him, “i don’t love hayami! i don’t love her, i don’t know why you would think that!”

you stood up, trying to leave the room. you didn’t want to be around him right now. however, his hand gripping onto your wrist stopped your movement entirely.

without thinking, your hand slapped his cheek. hard. you were so angry. angry at the fact that you kept putting up with the same shit after knowing he didn’t feel the same way about you. tears perked in the corners of your eyes as you tried to control your emotions.

his beautiful face was inches away from yours as he pulled you to sit back down on the couch. his soft lips met yours for the first time. the two of you sighed into the kiss, almost as if it was some sort of relief for the both of you. his kisses were gentle, even if he was messily drunk right now. he was always gentle with you.

a soft groan escaped his lips as you opened your mouth, his tongue finding its way easily. he softly whispered against the kiss, “let me taste you... please.”

so polite.

you pulled your lips from his, looking into his blue coloured eyes. your lips partly opened. he saw your shy little nod.

“that’s my girl.”

the next few minutes had went by slowly. his lips attacked yours, his large hands pulling your body to straddle his waist, your clothed cunt pressing against his growing erection. his hands helped you grind against him as his tongue explored your mouth. your hands held tightly onto his shoulders as his hands grasped your ass.

akaashi stood up, having you stand up with him. he walked you down to your bedroom, his lips stayed attached to yours.

the two of you made your way into the bedroom, akaashi’s jacket long discarded somewhere on the floor of the apartment. he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

his hands found your thighs, spreading your legs open. his touches were soft and careful. he didn’t want to hurt you.

“tell me what you want me to do.”

“i want you to touch me,” you said as he removed his shirt, “please touch me.”

his hand found your ankle and lifted your leg slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto your ankle. akaashi kissed his way up your leg, his fingers removing your underwear.

his hands pushed your skirt up, his hands now grasping your legs with a firm grip. all his attention was on your womanhood now.

“so fucking pretty.”

he gathered your slick with his tongue, before drawing circles on your clit. he loved how your moans started to grow in pitch.

you affected him more than the alcohol did.

your hands clenched onto the bedsheets so tightly. he listened to your moans as his tongue ran along your messy cunt. he knew that you were holding yourself back. he could tell that your hands were clenching tightly onto the bedsheets, holding yourself back from grinding on his face.

one of his hands moved from holding your thighs down to toy with your clit. he could feel your body shaking and squirming underneath his large build.

akaashi never pulled away. even when you were starting to cum on his tongue. one of your legs had made their way onto his shoulder, the other around your waist.

akaashi’s face was coated with your juices. he removed his fact from your cunt, looking at you.

“i need to ask you... do you want to continue?”

you almost wanted to cry out now. akaashi had just made you cum. he was here right now, in between your legs, shirtless looking at you. you loved him. you loved him so fucking much. you couldn’t believe that this was happening right now.

“i want to.”

“yeah?” he placed your leg back down onto the bed, “tell me exactly what you want from me.”

“i want you to fuck me. please... fuck me.”

akaashi gave you a little smirk as he reached for his belt. the sound his belt made caught your attention quickly, your eyes darting to his lower parts.

you watched as he removed his pants and boxers. the size of his length made you press your knees together.

“i-its not gonna fit,” you mumbled softly, a deep red blush spreading over your cheeks.

akaashi chuckled, “i’ll make sure it fits.”

his voice was soft. he made you feel okay, made you feel safe. akaashi helped you remove the shirt from your body, “look how pretty you are.”

akaashi’s fingers found your entrance in no time. he pushed two fingers into you, listening to how you started moaning again. he loved the feeling of your tight walls around his fingers. he watched you clench around his fingers and with the beautiful moans you were giving him, he was ready to make you cum again. his skilled digits curled inside of your cunt, a cry falling from your lips as he did so.

akaashi leaned down to kiss your open mouth. you could feel him smiling into your mouth.

“i’m ready,” you mumbled out against the kiss, “akaashi, fuck me, please.”

akaashi removed his fingers from you, gathering your juices with the tip of his cock. he made sure he coated himself before pushing the tip in. he could hear your small voice whimpering and your soft pants.

he looked at you, tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to adjust to his size. he softly kissed both of your tears.

“s-so big,” you whispered against his lips as you felt akaashi slowly start thrusting.

he smirked, his head dipping down to your neck to suck and kiss your skin. he looked at you, your voice broken and whimpering. you were crying for his cock. you could feel him twitch inside of you. he pulled his dick out before pushing back in, looking at where your bodies were connected.

akaashi could see the little bulge on your lower stomach. he grabbed onto your small hand, placing it down on your lower stomach so you could feel him. he gave you another deep thrust. your body moved with his thrusts. akaashi watched as your little body shook uncontrollably whenever his hips met with yours.

even akaashi was under the impression that your small body wouldn’t be able to fit him, but it was almost as if you were made for him.

“you feel so good around my cock.”

akaashi angled your legs, hooking them to his arms. the new angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. one of your hands grabbed a handful of his hair, making him throw his head back. your lips pressed softly along his jawline.

“s-so good, s-so fuckin’ good,” you moaned against his skin.

your forehead met with his as his thrusts became deeper and deeper. his voice was broken, his cock twitching.

“cum inside me,” you mumbled softly, soft enough for him to hear. his thrusts were deep and he could feel you climax around his length.

“i love you so fucking much,” he mumbled against your skin, “so fucking much that it hurts.”

“i know,” you cooed, kissing his cheek softly, “i love you too.”

he finished inside of you. you saying that was the last thing he remembered. he felt so safe in your arms, naked and bodies tangled. he knew his cum was dripping from your stretched hole. he fell asleep there in your arms.

you felt so at home, so safe in this moment. you shut your eyes too, falling asleep, enjoying this moment.

because deep down, you knew that in the morning, you weren’t hayami.

#nsfw—🎟#haikyuu smut #akaashi smut #akaashi keiji smut #keiji smut

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 3 years

Text

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter One (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

Prologue

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 4155

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N: I have been dying to post more so the day is finally here! I am so happy everyone has given my such amazing and sweet feedback! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Needless to say, this chapter does have smut! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

You woke up the next morning with your head pounding while the sun hit your eyes as you opened them. Turning on your back you let out a sigh once you realized where you were. The same bed you figured you would be in even though you were hoping it was all a dream and what had happened didn’t actually take place.

Remaining underneath Tom’s dark and satin sheets since you knew you had nothing on, you pivoted your head upward and saw his eyes opened and staring up at the ceiling. Clearly, neither one of you had any idea how to address what the hell happened between the two of you last night and you certainly weren’t going to be the one to initiate.

Tom licked his lips as he adjusted himself from under the covers. Did he really just sleep with you? Sure, he thought about having that moment with you. Countless times, actually. It was no secret you were breathtakingly beautiful and he always had that fantasy about you. But you were always dating that idiot for whatever reason and Tom always thought you were never into him in that way.

None of it was planned, of course. It just happened. One minute, you were both drinking and just simply there next to each other. The next, Tom and you were stumbling into his bedroom. Laughing in between kisses as you removed one another’s clothes and experiencing what was probably some of the best sex he’d ever had. His entire body was vibrating still from how he had felt and he never in a million years would have even thought you were the least bit interested in him like that. Then again, you were both clearly going through some really weird stuff last night.

You were both vulnerable and feeling things you didn’t want to admit to other people but for some reason, Tom was alright with admitting it to you and you both found a way to get rid of the feeling, even if it was temporary. He didn’t want you to regret it, because he sure as hell didn’t. He certainly wasn’t expecting any of that with you but it was a hell of a night and he was far from complaining about it. He was just worried you regretted it.

A lot could be said in your silence with Tom as you lay there, the both of you now staring up at the ceiling and neither of you were speaking. You couldn’t help but feel a little awkward while you tried to figure out what to say. Do you just thank him for the night and leave? Should you just say you had work and grab your clothes or just maybe not say anything at all? The silence was killing you for a variety of reasons and you were still trying to rack your brain trying to figure out why you initiated the first kiss to begin with. You weren’t drunk at all but for some reason you just wanted it. You wanted him. And in that moment last night, you were glad he wanted you too.

Tom cleared his throat, the stillness between you both was causing a rise in his anxiousness, “Well...we had sex last night,” he stated the obvious as plainly as possible. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah,” you answered in an obvious tone. You held back from your laughter as you pushed your hair out of your face, “I should probably go,” you told him as you tried to cover yourself up with the sheets even though you already knew Tom saw you naked last night. There were no more secrets between you both. Clearly.

Tom sat up from the bed and began looking for his sweatpants to throw on before he started to help you find your clothes across the bedroom floor. He handed you your t-shirt as he politely turned away while you changed, “Do you want coffee or something?” he offered, something he would never offer another girl who stayed the night.

Offering any girl any type of breakfast or anything of the sort automatically made them believe Tom wanted them to stay longer. To go out on a date or to get a phone call from him later. Commitment. So he always avoided it and usually had you kick them out if they couldn’t get the hint. But obviously you were different being that you were a friend who he just so happened to sleep with. He was grateful you were there with him and he’d never dismiss you as quickly. He cared about you in the same ways you cared about him. Neighborly love. Who he happened to be attracted to and vice versa.

“Nah, I’m okay. I have some back at my place,” you answered casually as you grabbed your leggings as Tom handed you one of your shoes, “Thanks,” you said to him with a small smile as you tried not to act like you were rushing out of there.

You tried to make yourself presentable as Tom began to walk you out of the bedroom, unsure if he should thank you for the night or not. You turned to him with a sarcastic smile and pointed towards your messy waves, “Wow, I guess this officially makes me a notch on your belt, huh?” you tried to joke to make it less weird between you two.

“For the record, you are not a notch or anything like that, Y/N,” Tom said sternly to make sure you knew that last night was actually a night he didn’t regret at all, “I uh...actually had a pretty good time,” he felt his cheeks tinge a hint of pink as he admitted that to you. Another thing he knew to never say to a girl he brought home. Ever.

Making a face at him, you breathed out a small laugh while you nodded your head in agreement, “Yeah, I did too,” you told him honestly.

The two of you just stood in the kitchen by Tom’s door for a minute. Waiting for the other person to say something but neither of you did. You rocked back and forth on your heels as Tom slid his hands into his pockets, “This isn't weird, is it?” you questioned in a light tone.

“What? No!?” Tom chuckled nervously. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to be nonchalant while the elephant of the deed you two had done remained between you both, “Wh-why-why would it be weird?” he stammered.

Leaning in a bit closer towards him, you narrowed your eyes in on Tom, “We had sex,” you whispered as if somebody else was in the room and could overhear your entire conversation.

Tom copied your motion and leaned in in the exact same way, “I don’t think it’s a secret now,” he teased you with a playful smirk, making you laugh as he pulled away. He gave you a nudge against your shoulder, “It’s only weird if we make it weird, right?” he reminded himself.

Lots of friends sleep together and continue to be friends. This was nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, you were more neighborly than friends. So it was a completely different situation than what typical friends had dealt with in the past. Tom was right, you reminded yourself.

“No weirdness on my end,” you told him with a smile as you held out your palm as if you were swearing in a courtroom, “Promise,” you added with a playful wink.

Tom smiled back, leaning forward to get the door for you but you accidentally mistook his gesture for a hug and wrapped your arm around his neck. You cussed under your breath at your embarrassingly stupid moment while you apologized profusely to Tom as he tried to save the awkwardness by giving you a half-assed hug in return. You tried to hide the wincing your eyes were making from the hug but you knew he noticed. Of course he noticed.

Looking down at the floor because you were now too embarrassed to look in his direction, you said your goodbyes as Tom promised to swing by this week with his usual pizza while you began walking faster towards your apartment. But you didn’t want Tom to think you were that flustered by your interactions that you quite literally ran away to hide out.

You finally got inside your door and realized everything remained untouched since you had kicked Justin out last night. The bottle of wine was still open and sitting on the counter, the television was still on in the living room and there were still a bunch of clothes he had left behind that you needed to desperately get rid of.

Everything in your apartment remained frozen in time while you felt like you jumped lightyears ahead of it from your one night spent with Tom. It was a strange feeling as you walked over to turn the television off but you didn’t feel angry like you had felt last night. You weren’t exactly over the events that took place with Justin but you were on the path to accepting it and you weren’t sure if Tom had something to do with it or not.

There was no denying that you were still hurting from everything. It was still a fresh wound and you had felt so betrayed from it all, you weren’t sure how you would bounce back from it or if you even would. You never dealt with a breakup as ugly as this one so it was a new feeling for you that you were still trying to wrap your head around.

And even though when you were with Tom for the brief time that you were, it felt like it was almost exactly what you needed last night. You didn’t hold back from him and you were comfortable enough around Tom telling him exactly what you needed. Letting your frustrations and anger out on him and Tom letting his feelings out on you led to an explosion between the two of you that surprisingly left you possibly wanting more.

Wanting more from Tom.

Changing into a fresh outfit from last night, you continued to replay the night over and over again in your mind. It was unexpected to say the least, but not in a bad way. Not by any means. If you thought it was bad or awkward, you probably wouldn’t be standing in front of your closet still thinking about the things Tom made you feel.

He made you forget about the drama, if even for one night. But he still managed to make you think that you didn’t need Justin anymore. Maybe you didn’t need anyone right now other than a simple fix here and there to make you feel good. Maybe something without any strings attached was what you needed right now in order to move on and numb your pain for a bit.

You knew Tom was dealing with his own commitment issues and neither one of you were looking for anything complicated. It may not be the best idea in the world to be thinking about something like this but clearly neither one of you knew how to be alone at the moment. You didn’t really want to be fully alone anyway, and you were both comfortable enough with each other where you could be honest about this stuff. Maybe Tom was right, there shouldn’t be any weirdness between you.

Maybe some great sex and not an ounce of attachment was the elixir to the chaos Justin caused for you. No formalities. No planned out, stuffy dates. No mingling with friends and their significant others. No justin. And certainly no types of feelings that would get you in a mess you clearly weren’t looking for right now.

Just good fucking sex. And...it didn’t hurt that your neighbor might be looking for the same type of thing that you were. At least you had hoped.

And when the thoughts and memories and god, downright blissful remembrances of his touch kept invading your mind, just standing there in your apartment thinking about it wasn’t enough. The anxiousness vibrated through your body and you knew what you might be needing from down the hall.

You pulled on a new t-shirt before grabbing your keys. You had never done anything like this before, what if Tom said no? Maybe it should just remain a one time thing between the two of you. Your nerves were attacking you relentlessly as you locked your door, slipping your key ring around your finger and securing it tightly.

But if Tom could do things like this, what was stopping you? The pure rush of anxiety and adrenaline...but it was stupidly guiding you right back to his door. This was insane. Completely stupid. He’d never agree to this.

Your mind was telling you to turn around and go back home. But that side of you that you never let come out was saying ‘fuck it. Have some fun for once. You’ve been through enough heartbreak and this is something for you.

The safe way got you hurt. More than once. And as you lifted your hand to tap your knuckles against the door, you knew you were done playing it smart.

Barely getting through the first knock, the door swung open. You let out a yelp as you practically hit Tom in the face while he almost walked right into you. The two of you running into each other as your bodies slightly crashed into one another.

“Oh shit!” Tom exclaimed as he pulled back with an awkward laugh. He ran a hand through his still messy curls, “I was actually on my way to see you,” he admitted, pressing his lips together as he looked at you in the doorframe.

You reached up and crashed your lips against Tom’s without warning, “Let’s make a deal,” you told him through your hungry kiss as you began to feel Tom start to kiss you back. He moaned into you as he captured your top lip in between his.

“W-what?” Tom mumbled against your lips once again, bringing you inside of his place as he kicked the door shut. He was surprised this was happening so suddenly. Especially since he was just about to be on his way over to your place to ask you for just about the same thing. He knew it didn’t feel right when you left this morning and it was because he wanted to feel this way again. With you.

“I can still help with your horrible conquests but...in the meantime, we make up for our shit love lives with damn good sex,” you explained while catching your breath from your last kiss. You stood in the living room with Tom’s hands resting on your hips with lust for you in his eyes.

He pulled back from his embrace with a quirked brow, “You’re serious,” he noted as he smirked at you. He was honestly surprised considering he never saw this side to you. You were always with the same guy for as long as you lived here. It was strange and new to him to see you wanting something that he did.

“No strings attached, of course,” you added. The words sounded ridiculous but you ignored that thought.

“I...christ, Y/N. I can’t say I haven’t thought about having endless mindblowing sex with you,” he said as his eyes rolled over you.

“Mindblowing?” you chuckled, “Someone’s cocky,” you teased.

“Rude. But back to the point...are you sure about this?” Tom got serious. His focus on you as he stepped back to give you some space. He didn’t want to be overbearing or act like he was trying to just get you back in bed. Even though that was basically what he was doing regardless of the situation.

The bottom line was, he had an amazing time with you. And unlike the random girls he brought home, you knew him. There was an understanding between you and him that he knew you got. And he could be open with you by saying he didn’t want anything serious. He wouldn’t need to find a way to get rid of you in the morning. He could distract himself from the nonsense he would think about while ravishing you in the process. It was the perfect idea.

You took a moment. Wondering again if you were just crazy to suggest this. But the way his brown eyes were studying you, it just felt right.

“I’m sure if you are,” you finally answered.

Tom was silent but it didn’t take him long to make his mind up. Taking a few steps forward, he picked you up in one swift motion and brought you over towards the couch where you straddled his hips before going in for another kiss. His hand was already slipping underneath your shirt and up your back as he helped you remove it along with his, tossing it towards the empty side of the couch you weren’t using.

Helping you out of your leggings, you found your way back towards Tom’s lap and grinded your hips against him in between your kisses. The cravings you both shared for one another grew wilder as you continued, “We’re really doing this?” you muttered against his lips with another gasp as you helped release him out of his already bulging boxers.

“Think so,” Tom laughed against your skin, trailing his lips down to your neck as he pushed your hair to one side, “Unless you want to stop?” he pulled back for a minute, not wanting to overstep if you were having second thoughts.

Biting your bottom lip, your hand went down to Tom’s hardened length and ran along it. Rubbing the pre-cum seeping from his tip as you watched Tom throw his head back against the couch with a low moan, “Does it look like I want to stop?” you asked him with a playful grin.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Tom hissed as his hands gripped your sides to release some of his frustration. He breathed out a laugh as his fingers went to your clit, beginning to circle you slowly, “Let me give you what you came here for. Hm, darling?” his voice grew raspy as he looked you in the eye, his pupils black the longer he waited.

Your eyes went down towards Tom’s waist, gasping as you watched him begin to tease your entrance with his tip. Cussing under your breath, you grabbed onto his shoulders tightly as you braced yourself for his impact. Tom pressed his hand against the small of your back as he waited for you to let him know it was okay. You nodded your head silently as you gave him an amorous look, “I want you, Tom,” you whispered lowly.

That was all it took before Tom guided himself into you. Going slow as he took his time to let you get used to him while you clenched around him. You lowered yourself deeper as he filled your core up entirely while you began to roll your hips against his slowly, letting out a moan as Tom hissed against your ear while twitching inside of you.

“Mmm, Y/N,” Tom breathed out a moan as he matched his thrusts with yours. His lips parted, moaning against your neck while he pressed open, sloppy kisses against your skin as he continued to rub your clit with his opposite hand, “You feel so fucking wet,” he praised you breathlessly.

“Keep touching me, Tom,” you cried out to him while you started to ride him faster. Even though you and Tom had just started these escapades, you certainly felt comfortable enough to tell him exactly what you wanted to make you feel good. Pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen bud, your eyes clenched shut while you pushed yourself deeper into him, “Shit! Yes, right there,” you reassured him with another moan.

Guiding you down on his cock, Tom felt his entire body tense as soon as his lips met yours once again. His breaths getting heavy like yours as your name fell from his lips while he watched you bounce up and down on him, making him feel absolutely incredible as you continued to moan in his ear.

You felt your body beginning to tense as you kept going. Everything inside of you was aching for a release and Tom was giving it to you without a doubt. Rocking your hips into him more, you knew you were getting closer to your edge and you could feel Tom about to release as well.

Opening your eyes, you cupped Tom’s face with your palms and gave him one last fiery kiss. Your tongues finding each other wildly and tangled up before you both finally reached your highs together as you whimpered Tom’s name while you finally let go for him.

Tom cussed as he unraveled from beneath you. His body writhing while he watched you bury your face into the crook of his neck, muffling the sound of your moans against him. The vibrations from your sounds set him off further while he continued to reach his bliss, still thrusting into you while you rode out your tremor together.

“Holy….” Tom trailed off with a heavy breath, finally slowing down while his back hit the couch as he tried to pull himself together. He saw you pull your face away from his body, giving him the same exact look that he knew he had on his face, “Umm...yeah, holy fuck?” he laughed.

“That just about covers it,” you agreed as you kissed his cheek with a smile. You pushed Tom’s now damp and sweaty curls out of his face to capture his lips while you brought him closer to you, “So we have a deal?” you confirmed as Tom kissed you back.

Tom chuckled as his hands fell to your sides, his thumb creating small circles against you while he pursed his lips, “You’re really serious about this? No strings? No titles? Just like...just sex?” he clarified, still trying to wrap his head around you asking for this. It felt like a godsend and that it was too good to be true. Why couldn’t more girls be like you?

Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Tom’s eyes went from your eyes, to your lips, and back as he sat there admiring you looking this way. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him and even just as a friend, he was lucky to have you in his life. But now that he had you in other ways, you felt almost intoxicating to him. He couldn’t understand why that piece of garbage cheated on you. Tom had done some shady things to girls in the past and he didn’t see himself in ways others might but he knew he would have never done what that guy did.

You nodded as you turned your head to the side, “Do we have a deal, Tom?” you asked again, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Justin really did a number on you, huh?” Tom teased with a chuckle.

“We’re not talking about him,” you shushed Tom. Pressing your palm against his chest, you gave him a stern expression, “No talk about exes or...your conquests. We do this,” you gestured towards you straddling his legs before looking back at him, “Whenever we...feel like it. I guess,” even you weren’t sure of the rules but you figured you could make them your own anyway.

There was a pause as you quickly felt like you should add more, “We’re friends. Nothing more, nothing less,” you told him, wanting to be clear of at least one title throughout this whole pact the two of you were about to agree to, “Friends who...happen to jump each other’s bones?” you stated despite it sounding like a question.

Tom chuckled at your timid expression. His hands still at your sides as he leaned up and captured your lips again. “Deal.”

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