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all-things-fic · 4 years

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Spoilin’ for a Fight

A/N: Happy Sunday loves! Hope you’ve all had a lovely and restful weekend. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you... I have indeed (finally) posted another piece of writing. Here’s 6.7k of Harry riling up his partner all because of a bloody vest.

Thank you as always for all the love and patience everyone has given me. Especially @waitingfortwilight, @haute-romance-quotidienne and @harryfeatgaga. Hopefully this lives up to any hype the sneak peek created! I’m going to disappear again .x

***

You rolled your lips into your mouth as you watched him walk his way around your master bedroom. His movements were confidently familiar as he tucked his vest into the waistband of his white boxer-briefs and kept his eyes down to the dress shirt and trousers he had laid out across your bedspread, sitting next to choice accessories.

He was running late. Both you and he knew it. Yet the leisurely motions he undertook would never have told you that if you didn’t already know. The way he had taken longer in the shower, carelessly stepped out of the towel (and stepped over it too, meaning the item was now damp and in a bunched up pile closer to Harry’s side of the bed waiting for someone to put it in the laundry basket) and meandered his way through getting ready.

Boxers first, then black ankle socks. Then the bloody vest.

You exhaled through your nose, trying not to release a breath that would catch his attention and let him know that you were becoming slightly vexed by how lackadaisical he was choosing to be.

The vest had to go.

Not even in a sexual way either.

And it wasn’t the fact that it just wasn’t doing it for you - on the contrary it was quite the opposite, the tight item clearly letting you ogle and appreciate the fine specimen you were proud to call your partner - but it was just how much of grandad-move it was.

You understood how having some sort of undershirt kept his actual shirt looking pristine acting as a defensive layer between his body and his clothing.

But, the vest had to go.

It just had to.

Blindly reaching down to your dresser for your tube of mascara, you unscrewed the gold lid and coated the wand with product.

Mouth slightly fallen, you washed your lashes with the High Density Black mascara and quickly made the switch to the other eye making sure to get your bottom lashes too.

Looking at Harry through the mirror, you wondered what he could be debating as he stood silently in the middle of the room. A soft frown traced his brow, his eyes looking down at the bed. His hands were digging into his waist, as his lips jutted slightly in thought.

Your conclusion was that he was debating his outfit choice for the evening.

Lid gently screwed back on, you placed your mascara into your cosmetic vanity, before then reaching out for your brow gel. A quick brush through each side and you were done with that step.

You happened to quite like his outfit choice. It was a little less formal than usual for one of your dinners. Classic houndstooth patterned trousers and smart black shirt. The kind of material that made a scratching noise which was music to your ears as you clawed at your man, wanting him closer. Whether that was in the booth of a restaurant, on the car ride home while you were sat at a red traffic light, or when he had you pinned against the locked door for your house.

Eyes dropping, you watched as your hands - with freshly lacquered nails - gently drew the opening of your silky-satin dressing gown together as it started to gape.

From your fidgeting, Harry’s attention was stolen by the movement he had seen in his peripherals and when you next looked up at him in the mirror you were met by his already awaiting gaze.

His face looked worn, as his still slightly damp hair fell across his forehead. Lines lingered in his skin from the way his head was tilted and his arms were bent as his hands faffed around with what appeared to be a trinket box. He must’ve reached for it at some point while you were otherwise occupied.

Gold cross dipping underneath the neckline of the vest, the width of his chest seemed to be getting wider the longer you kept your eyes on his reflection. In moments like this you always became hyper aware of the amount of tattoos that were scattered across his body - arms, shoulders and chest. If you were able to let your eyes drop lower, you were sure the ones of his legs would be just as vivid.

But while everything else about him just seemed content in the moment, his eyes were different. They were strong as they held yours. Waiting for something.

And you knew you couldn’t keep his gaze as you let your words leave your throat, albeit with less conviction than you originally thought them.

If you were after a bicker before dinner then he was absolutely going to bite and give you what you wanted. You just knew it.

“You’re not going out in that, are you?”

“‘S there a problem ‘f I am?”

A charged pause.

Harry’s remark was shot out instantly, on yours as fast as a predator was on their prey.

Inhaling deeply through your nose, you looked back at him through the mirror. A slant to his lips as he waited once more.

Gentle raise of his eyebrows. Faint but definitely there. Goading. Knowing you would be so aware of every moment, every twitch with your eye for detail. His eyes shone in a way that he was daring you.

Oh, he was spoiling for a fight. Most definitely.

See, this wasn’t new territory for you and Harry. He knew that it sometimes got on your last nerve in how he opted for a vest to cover his top half as an undershirt but especially when he only wore that as the item of choice and simply slung a suit jacket over the top to complete the outfit.

Like that one time when he attended The Store X The Vinyl Factory's Transformer exhibition and swung by your then rented London townhouse after said event in the small hours only for you to chastise him on the doorstep for how he hadn’t even put on a proper shirt for the evening.

That night he had teased you - “‘least let me in the door before you start dressing me down, darling. Especially considering ‘m halfway there with not putting on a clean shirt an’ everythin’” - in that slow draw that maddeningly managed to warm you through even when you were irritated with it’s orator.

Blinking, you knew you needed to respond but you weren’t sure which route you wanted to take with your tact.

“Not a problem, ‘s just not my favourite.”

“Didn’t realise we’d become tha’ sorta couple,” he paused, his sentence obviously not finished. When your eyes met his again, he continued, “The kind that tells the other what they can and can’t wear, can and can’t do.”

Sighing, you fiddled with your diamond earrings and spoke, “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no,” he spoke clearly, ringless hands rising in defeat. “You don’t like the vest, ‘s fine. Allowed an opinion.”

“Nice to know.”

A suppressed laugh spluttered from Harry’s lips as he pressed them together.

Looking at him again, you watched him wrinkle his nose up at you through the mirror. By now your gaze was flat and you were far from impressed with his taunting.

“Come on,” he encouraged, eyes alight. “‘S have a row.”

“I’d rather not.”

“‘S healthy to tell me to piss off every once in a while, y’know tha’?”

“So, piss off.”

“Ouch,” he dragged the word, playing offended. “Could say it wi’a bit less conviction next time.”

“That’s if we make it to a next time,” you muttered, seeing his smirk. “‘M not doing this.”

He watched the way you snatched at your other earring, your hands quick to try and place it gently to your lobe but in your haste you fell foul of losing the item.

“Shit,” you hissed when the dainty jewellery slipped from your grip and to the wooden floor below with a dull clink.

“Hang on-“

“It’s fine,” you rebutted any chance of his offering to help, swiping for the earring and managing to make good the second time around.

There was tension in the air now as Harry remained quiet while you continued busying yourself, ignoring the bubble of annoyance and unexplained upset simmering within you.

Gently scooping at your necklace next, you fiddled with the clasp of the fine chain and tilted your neck down as you raised your hands and arms to place the necklace onto yourself.

From behind you, Harry nervously chewed at his bottom lip. He knew the outcome wasn’t going to go well as he looked on at your slightly shaking hands struggling to successfully bring the two sides together.

Rather than point out the possibility of ruining the nails that you had endlessly chewed his ear about all afternoon and constantly stuck under his nose to show off; he waited with baited breath, more than willing to step in if required.

It was when he heard the small and soft growl omit from your mouth with sheer frustration that he decided to change tact.

Gone was the trinket box, tossed aimlessly back onto the bed with a soft bounce. His hands gently placed to rest against taut shoulders, Harry leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head. Nose tickled by your hair he muttered into the silky strands, “Let me, darling.”

You froze as you sat in your seat, eyes still slightly lowered from the way you had dropped your head. Frantically blinking as you mulled over how you were going to play your next move.

Harry hummed, noticing that you had gone quiet on him, knowing you wouldn’t want to engage with him just yet considering how soon he had previously provoked. He just had to wait it out a little more.

A slump came to your shoulders at his words, partially irked at how he had been the one to coil your spring - pushing and pressing and prodding - and now he thought he could be the one to so easily offer you release.

“Let me just-,” he spoke more so to himself, cutting himself off, as he scooped your hair into his hands and mumbled soft apologies considering he knew you had spent some time on styling.

When he was happy that your neck was open enough and there wasn’t going to be anything to hinder him with your tresses over one shoulder, he reached for the item.

Harry’s right hand met yours first, his thumb and forefinger easily pinching at the delicate chain that he knew so well having been the person to pick and purchase the item.

Surprised at how easily you gave up the treasure, Harry darted his eyes to your left side and reached for the other side of the fine chain.

“Have you got it?” You were reluctant to let the one side of the necklace go, in fear of losing the pendant that was currently bouncing against your chest from the way you held the jewellery item.

Again, a throaty hum vibrated through Harry’s chest.

“Which idiot chose the finicky clasp?”

“You did,” you outright answered him.

He chuckled in concentration, eyes zoned in on the way his thumbnail pressed at the clasp to hold it down, and his left hand fed itself to the right. “‘S right, I did. Fucking big idiot over ‘ere.”

You then felt the chain gently tickle the back of your neck as Harry let the item go. “But he’s only gone an’ bloody done it.”

Lightly sighing, you pressed your hand to your chest and felt the necklace sitting cooly against your hotter than usual skin. A soft smile at Harry’s choice of words to let you know he had successfully put on the necklace.

Slightly inside your own head as you raised it to sit up straight, you quickly busied yourself with returning items that you had been using to get ready, to their rightful spots.

Behind you, you heard Harry chuckle as he gently dropped himself down to sit on the edge of your side of the bed. He was clearly amused at how you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Ignoring me now? Not even gonna gi’me a thank you?”

If you hadn’t been so stubborn, and focused on the task at hand you would have heard his question and thanked him. However, given your own bloody-mindedness, you never stood a chance.

Learning forward, Harry’s hand reached down to one of the four legs that made up your dressing table pouffe - the one closest to him - and swiftly pulled.

Of course, you squealed. The quick change in motion was enough to cause anyone to omit a noise fit only to dogs hearing due to its pitch.

“‘Ve got yer,” he spoke around a chuckle, enlightened by your reaction as the chair scraped against the flooring and made it so you were virtually sat in his lap. “If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed...”

Sharply, you turned to look at him and pushed at his shoulder. “Hope you’re not implying-“

“Wha’,” his expression was boyishly cheeky as he cut you off with his question, his hand keeping hold of yours that had pushed his shoulder. “What am I implying?”

Nostrils flared as you looked at him, feeling your arm slowly wrap around his neck as he tried to pull you closer once more on the chair. Legs man spread, he managed to slot you in between his thighs and enjoyed the way your soft knees squashed into his inner thigh from how close you now were.

“I’m implying what the proverb is implying,” he smarmily responded, forever having an answer for everything.

“Is that so?”

“It is,” he turned, noting the way your arm was still draped around his neck.

“Shame that,” you commented. “Cause if you were alluding to the other thing then you would’ve really gotten the fight you were looking for.”

Harry’s eyes cut to you from the corner of his vision, his lips now pressed gently against your forearm. “Would I? If that’s the case, I take it back.”

Again your nostrils flared, as you mumbled a veiled threat of, “Swear to god, Harry.”

“So, so easy to wind up-“

Harry’s voice was abruptly cut off when your fingers came into contact with the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled as hard as you could. His only response was to gently graze his teeth to the skin of your arm and the silk of the gown in the tiniest of nips as he ascended to your neck.

“D’yeh know how much I love fighting with you?” He mumbled against your skin, “How much I love doing anything and everything with you?”

“Have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” you swallowed around your dry response, feeling his lips quirk against the shoulder of your silk gown as he gently brushed your hair away once more.

With it falling down your back, you became all too aware of the gape to your coverup, revealing your clavicle and the top of your breast, as Harry’s lips rubbed against where your neck and shoulder met.

Growl-like hum heard from your suitor, you gently pushed your finger through his drying hair. Forcing it in haphazard directions before bringing it back and smoothing it down.

When he showered you with affection like he was currently doing, it was hard to stay mad at him. Which is why you found the direction of conversation so intriguing. What was he trying to achieve here? Whatever it was, he really was going the wrong way about it.

“Know why I love fighting?” He felt you shake your head lightly as he brought you back to him with the question. The rustle of your hair against his was heard prominently in your ears as he now lightly rested his forehead to your temple. “Yea’, you do,” he disagreed with your non-verbal response, tone gritty as he tried to rouse once more.

“‘S cause I love shagging when we’re angry,” he heavily pressed his nose into your cheek, knowing you were watching him through the hooded eyelids regardless of how you wouldn’t fully let your gaze meet his long enough to be suckered in. “How you really dig your nails into my back an’ shoulders when I properly get going - not to mention my arse cheeks - and how it feels when I step under the shower the next morning and wince like a little wuss.”

You laughed breathily, stopping your feelings of joy by biting down on your bottom lip. Laughter however played on your lips, lingering in a soft smile that danced along and up the corners of your mouth.

“Fight me, darling.”

Amused didn’t even cover it as you pulled your head back in a slightly uncomfortable way to look at him. The smoulder of his dilated eyes that were clearly set on what he wanted, they jarred so evidently against his messy hair that looked fit for a toddler who had woken from a heavy nap.

He seemed awfully whiny for a man who was confident with what he wanted. Supposed to be the instigator of an exchange of diverging or opposite views, creating most likely a heated happening. Then again, maybe he was onto something.

Soft frown set in the middle of his brows, his eyes dropped so brazenly down to your lips. A quick swipe of your tongue had them glistening enticingly for him as saliva lingered and caused his groan to get caught in his throat.

Hand against the back of your head, he tilted your face down to his once more and let his mouth sit at the corner of your lips. Your breathing and his had started to become staccato, as anticipation bubbled within you both from your shared close proximity.

“‘M waiting,” you challenged knowing he would rise up to the provocation, as his hand turned you face a tiny amount more so when he stuck his nose against yours, so they would slot perfectly together.

Harry’s vision blurred as he felt your warm breath bounce against his face, licking his own lips now and rolling them into his mouth to take away any dryness.

Hand drawing you to him and mouth about to take your bottom lip, he felt the soft draw back of your head causing his lips to tweak as his breathy laugh mixed within his short and sharp exhalations.

“‘S tha’ how it’s gonna be?“

You fought the way your hooded eyes wanted to close at the gruff tone that laced his question, wanting to marvel in the glow that had started to coat the skin of his face.

“Said you wanted a fight.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth were his lips abruptly upon yours. His hand spread across your entire cheek as your free hand reached for his wrist and tightly gripped. Noses squashed from the force; desperate to have each other.

Harry's lips were fierce and bruising, his body feeling heavier against yours as he rested his other hand against your chair and gave you more of his weight.

For him your smell was everywhere, as your other arm wrapped around his neck and clawed at the fabric of that bloody vest. The sweet of your hair care juxtaposed against the woody florals of your perfume that sensually drew and tied him to you.

Knees knocking together, you felt the way his hand stumbled as it peeled away from the chair and clawed at the silky fabric of your gown. Fingers quickly became frantic as his concentration moved to his hands that lifted fabric and slipped underneath craving the feel of your warm, soft skin.

With his mouth slightly slower and fallen as he was pulled elsewhere, you tried to take the lead as his hands wandered and he explored.

His hands were softer than usual, time away from music and instruments meaning the callouses had faded. Short nails were dull as they clawed, fingertips dancing against your plush thighs as they flattened to the seat and then upwards along your hip, scooping around your back and confidently spreading out just shy of the top of your bum.

God, he loved knowing you were completely naked underneath. How with a quick and sharp tug of his hand, he would have you bare to him.

Small press against your lower back had Harry silently asking you to raise and fall into his lap. You ignored him at first, far too wrapped up in the way he gave you his tongue around his quivering lips that were trying not to smile at the way the two of you were shamelessly necking on and he was managing to get his own way.

Pressing your toes into the patterned antique Persian rug which sat underneath your bed, your body created a break between your thighs and their seat. Harry took advantage of the space without any need for a nudge, his hands curling against the clammier, warm skin as he urged you once more to come to him.

Your knees hit the side of your mattress first, lifting and mounting Harry’s lap and he moaned as he enjoyed your full weight against him. Fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, you felt him squeeze as he started to lower himself down to the bed.

Body laying atop an outfit priced easily in the early thousands, Harry hummed clearly letting you know how pleased he was with himself. This was only solidified by the crack of his hand, as it slapped against you bare bum cheek now on show.

“Can’t believe you’ve got your arse in the air like this,” he rasped, head lifted so he could leave lingering kisses to the hinge of your jaw.

Mouth slightly dropped, you could feel the way his right hand danced against the curve of your cheek and the way it dipped as it met the back of your thigh.

His eyes were on your face, chin soft as he tilted his head down to his chest. You admired him, somehow able to find a stillness woven within a intoxicated, sensual love between the lewdish comments and suggestive wandering hands.

Lips melding to the skin of your cheek, he asked, “Who’re you showing it off to?”

“You, ‘f you want it like that.”

The coolness of the room hit your bare skin even more as Harry roughly pushed up the fabric of your gown up as he palmed your cheeks once more, skin massaged and squeezed between his digits.

Raw groan, he found his voice, “Turn over for me.”

Harry slid himself closer to the side of bed, hands making light work of his socks and his briefs before he turned to throw you a glance over his shoulder.

You had removed your gown, item somewhere now on the floor revealing yourself to him proudly.

As you lay gently on your stomach, the expanse of your bare back on show for him. He greedily let his eyes wander, the curvature of your shoulders and the indentation of your spine line.

The way your right leg was slightly bent creating a crease to your hip and your left leg a little straighter. You certainly gave him plenty to devour with his sight.

He didn’t give it much thought when he joined you back on the bed, his hands pressing into the mattress closer to your head.

Bare fingers caught your attention as you watched his hands scrunch around his expensive dress shirt, the familiar scratching sound music to your ears as it caught against his nails and not yours for once while he threw it to the floor at the bottom end of the bed.

“Doesn’t look like we’re going to make it to tha’ dinner,” he spoke, his words not really warranting an answer. Beside your hips, you could feel his knees as he leaned for the trousers on the other side of you and pushed them out of the way too.

He continued with, “Already late. ‘S no point.”

From the way he spoke you wondered if this was what he had been aiming for all along. To scrap dinner and have his way with you. It wouldn’t have been the first time and definitely not the last.

Eyes already heavy from the deep lull of Harry’s voice, they closed when you felt his lips hit your back, making light work of inhaling you in. His mouth was wet as he reacquainted his lips with your skin, suckling the lower he got.

Nose gently sweeping down, you found yourself dropping your forehead to your forearm giggling from the light tickle, only to sharply cry out as his teeth sunk into the top of your cheek and your head lifted once more.

Your hand reached behind you pressing against his forehead, “Don’t you dare leave a love bite on my bum.”

His lips twitched at your squealed but breathy chastise, tongue laving against the startings of a mark. “Always begrudging me of eating, darling.”

A devilish grin laced his features as you dared to look over your shoulder at him and take in his gaze that owlishly looked at you from behind your curved hip. All you could see were his eyes as your hand gently pushed his head while he pulled your hips upwards with him, lips skimming the backs of your thighs.

“Mm,” he started. “Not everything though, ‘s tha’ right?”

The man simply didn’t want to part from his meal.

“You always did like dessert better.”

There was nothing more Harry loved than when you let him put his face between your legs. But when you let him do it from behind, he couldn’t even explain the difference yet there was one.

Maybe it was the way he could grab and smack your arse, fingers digging into your hips as he got to pull you onto his face when things started to get hot and heavy. That animalistic grab to your hip bone, loins pulled onto his face as he went to town.

Even better when you would push back against him. So caught up in the way he felt that you couldn’t wait any longer. He could talk to you easier this way too, really coax you not only with the feel of his tongue but the words that dripped off it too.

And then there was the possible anticipation of assplay. Tongue always ready and willing to stimulate if it were desired and communicated.

The way his hands massaged you, softly pulling apart your rounded cheeks and opening you to the cool air of your bedroom almost stunned. Your body quickly gathered itself with a warm moan when you felt his warm salvia drip messily down onto your ass and your middle.

Then he was leaning forward - lapping at your skin - lapping you up. Tongue greedy at your cheeks and folds, building his own desires before he actually ate.

This was his starter.

The most feminine gasp exited your open mouth when you felt his mouth land where you needed him the most, somewhat too cautiously for your liking at first but you knew he sometimes liked to play this game. You found yourself wiggling back, Harry’s hands wrapping around and squeezing into your thick thighs welcomingly when he knew you’d caught on.

He hummed, pleased that you had fallen from his meek offerings and gave you more of his mouth.

“There’s my girl.”

“H,” you panted, pressing your forehead onto your forearm.

“Fuck,” he muttered against you, enjoying how you were letting him have a taste. Your sweetness quenching his starved fancy.

You were wet, but he wanted you wetter. Just wet enough so that you were tacky when he tapped himself against you teasingly.

With his eyes closed, Harry opened his mouth wider as he pulled your hips back to his lips. His nails dig into your skin as your hands clenched into the sheets beneath.

He worked slowly against you, tongue licking at your wetness and saliva mixing with your early arousal. Nose buried inside of you as he devoured you in a way that had you thinking he had been wanting you this way for weeks. A little bit rougher, grabbing you to him and not in the way that quickies usually brought. In a way that sex selfishly commanded sometimes.

“God, baby-“ how was it always so- gratifying?

With his eyes closed now as he tried to focus, Harry felt your body shuffle and his own limbs followed after you without restraint. Your bum became slightly raised as you pressed your arms deeper into the mattress due to the way you began to play with yourself.

Your fingers swiped upwards in gentle pulls against your clit, Harry’s mouth barely letting up. He must’ve figured out what you were doing though from your slight change in position as he hummed against your heat, light mutterings that you couldn’t make out.

“‘S tha’ feel good?” he asked, voice hot as he pulled back to bring his focus onto the glide of your fingers against your wet and neglected clit. “Couldn’t wait, wanted to play.”

You knew you were slick, you could feel it but rather than feel embarrassed you found yourself without a care as you pushed yourself back again. His chuckle made you feel on fire, “Not done with me? Still need some more?”

His lips and tongue dove straight back in rather than wait for a verbal answer, feeling the way your legs widened further when he licked in a particular way. The smell and taste of you was everywhere, gleaming against him with a tackiness that was the perfect piece of free memorabilia.

Breathing heavier, you both listened to every small gasp and light moan that was drawn from you. The sound of his lips pulling at you making a heat spread across your chest and down to your core.

Harry knew your reactions like the back of his hand, and was waiting for that one sound that was so sweet and enough to get him to cheekily pull away.

The thought alone had his lips curving into a smile against you, as he felt you starting to clench against his tongue from your joint efforts of pleasure.

“Harry,” you whispered, rushed. The slow burning feeling starting to form in the pit of your stomach as your fingers began to move with that little bit more fervour. “Want you.”

His mouth was away from you and against the skin of your bum cheek not long after, lips messily wiping as he moved them up your back leaving a trail of arousal in his wake as you felt yourself fall flat to the mattress as he mounted you.

Hands pinched into the skin of your back, Harry pressed his pelvis against you.

Feeling him nestled between the cheeks of your bum, caused your eyes to close. He was so full and hard for you, you couldn’t contain the throaty moan that accompanied his grind into the dip of your bum.

“‘M gonna fuck you,” he panted, hands sweeping your hair to one shoulder so his lips can find your skin again. “Want that, hm?”

Your fingers wove into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he craned his head to look at you. His left hand pressed into the bed, holding his entire weight as his right hand reached down for his leaking cock.

“‘S this what you want- how you want it?” He goaded in question again, gently tapping himself against the skin of your bum before he slid himself down and watched as you slightly raised your own hips for him and started to reach behind you to encourage him to press his weight on top of you.

Harry lined himself up, pushing forward and shifting his eyes from his sinking cock and up your back to see your head dipping forward to fall between your shoulders. He knew he’d never grow tired of the welcomed blissful moan of ‘yes’ that always left your lips when he finally gave it to you.

Humming deeply, Harry bit around his smile as he started with shallow, teasing thrusts. A series of strokes that you found frustratingly sexy but knew as ones he wouldn’t be able to keep up due to his own insatiable desires.

He swore, in the least teenage boy way possible, you were always tighter to him like this. Especially if you crossed your legs at your ankles behind him while he pushed into you.

It was usually the position you adopted when you’d let him take you this way, however in the dusk evening he could feel that you had lifted your legs up so your calves were resting against his bum and holding him to you; cutting his shallow thrusting short to press and hold him deeper inside.

As his pelvis flattened against your bum, he gritted his teeth and released a deep noise from the very back of his throat. The sound had you giggling, slightly wiggling your hips from beneath him, the moment quickly halted by one of his hands cupping at your skin.

“Darling, steady,” he warned.

“Come on,” you wiggled again. “Fuck me then.”

Pulling back, Harry nudged forward just as smooth, the intent behind his thrust obvious. Eyes dropped down he enjoyed the bounce of your cheeks from the force of his pelvis.

A content hum left your smiling lips as you jolted from each push of his hips; his grunts of exertion delightfully pleasurable as his hands pressed into the mattress next to your waist.

Thrust measured - slow, hard and deep - knowing what they wanted and needed. How to get it too. Undulating and determined.

Harry’s eyes closed as he felt you squeeze him, your legs dropping away from the cheeks of his clenching arse and down to the bed with a soft bounce. You moved again and he followed, legs opening wider against the mattress beneath you both.

The way your face was now half buried into the sheets, muffling your moans that were usually hot against his ear and coaxing him to places he was still dumbfounded he was able reach let alone find.

Teeth gritted once more, he could feel the tightness in his limbs and lower back. The work of his hips was unyielding but you were opening up to him, only making him want to continue the steady rhythm. To push and pull. To chase.

And it was enough. It was nice. Simmering. And if you opened your legs just that little bit wider you could rub yourself against the sheets but you wanted to give as good as you could get. Being engulfed wasn’t going to give you that.

“Give it to me,” you requested, “Harder, baby.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Really need it, don’t yer?”

He pulled you upwards, hands at the curve of your waist so his fingers indented and left lighter marks against your skin from the pressure.

Now on your knees he could really have his way with you.

Soon the sound of your skin slapping together only started to add to the growing fire in the pit of his stomach and yours. The sound of it so obscene but so welcomed to both your ears.

Harry’s eyes raked over your naked body, the pert cheeks of your arse bouncing enticingly against his hips, to the tops of your fingers that were fisting tightly into your bedsheets. Knuckles so prominent due to the unrelenting grip.

He had noticed that your body was on its way to folding in on itself, arms stretching above your head and hands finding purchase on your plush bed pillows closer to the top of the bed that had been reached and pulled for by your own lack of knowing what to do with your hands.

“D’ya love me?”

His question was so gritty. Throat dry from his heavy breathing. You found yourself collapsing again.

Your body, in its lethargy, started to curl up into itself with hands pressed down and your legs bent as your arse begins to bob more against him rather than thrust itself back.

“Said d’ya love me.”

He was sharp with his thrust.

“So much-“

It was wet and it was gasped. Low moan as he cracked his hand against your cheek.

“‘S tha’ the sex talkin’,” he heaved goadingly, and you knew he was smiling. It wasn’t the sex talking, but it could be. Both so taken by the waves of pleasure that could easily sway even the most sound of minds.

You whined into your arm from his smarmy laugh, a writhe to your hips as Harry licked at his thumb and pressed it enticing against your arse. Gentle rubs had you gasping his name and pressing back, as his thumb slid down to collect your arousal that was sat coating your outer walls and his cock each time he retreated.

As you became more excited, his thumb pressed against you with a bit more pressure, gently popping inside and sitting there.

“Harry,” you whined, the loudest you could around biting your lips, a soft frown forming against your brow at the pleasurable intrusion.

“You fuckin’ love it,” he growled, watching as you pushed back against his next thrust. “You dirty mare.”

Heavy frown against your brow, you dropped your head onto your forearm once more and felt yourself start to clench around him. “Yea’,” he muttered to himself, “You’re coming.”

Nodding your head against your forearm, you felt his free hand rest onto yours that was pushed above your head. He pressed down, fingers slotting through yours as he grunted in time with his harder thrusts into you.

With shaking thighs and aching knees, you feel your mouth fall as his teeth grazed over your ear and his heavy pants warmed your already perspiring cheeks.

“Don’t fight me,” he pleaded. “‘S nice to give in.”

His head was heavy against your temple, your hair messily in your face. You felt your expression fall as you teetered, starting to lean slightly more to one side. He was nodding, you didn’t know who to but you knew what about and you found yourself craving his narration of whispered ‘yeses’ but instead you were both overcome and the best he can do was huskily groan to encourage you.

Suddenly it tipped and your limbs started to shake as you pressed back against him both in want of more but more so to ground yourself so you didn’t collapse. He stuttered from your vigour but held you there, feeling you helplessly writhe and mercilessly squeeze around him. His cock grinding and dipping into you, drawing out each tremor, desperately seeking its own sexual gratification.

Your other hand was wrapped around his face, fingers digging into the back of his neck and whispering begs for him to come inside of you. Pleas of how you want him to give it to you. Fill you up.

And you were lewd because sometimes that was how he liked it.

Such a pretty face and pretty mouth - yours - speaking to him in such a way. Admonishment was forgotten. Who needed or cared for it when his balls were pulling up tight with each slap against you.

And then he collapsed against you. His thighs roughly spread you as he clenched and groaned deeply - guttural - giving you everything he had.

Blood rushed around his ears as he shuddered and shook, the force of his orgasm causing his hips to continue with little pushes just to be sure he was done. Lost to himself, the silence and his sensitivity.

He roused to your dirty snicker, one of disbelief. Right hand wrapping behind to feel for his arse cheek and digging your nails there, wanting to keep him deep inside, or just behind you for long enough to feel him pressed flaccid and wet against your cheeks.

The filthy reminder caused you to flush, as Harry shuffled behind you, lips seeking out your clammy skin.

“Make you mad more often, ‘f tha’s my private penance.”

His words were muffled, spoken into your shoulder as his hands soothed and massaged over your joints in preparation for the aching reminders tomorrow.

And the vest was still on.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #harry x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry fic #my writing

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your-highnessmarvel · 3 years

Text

From Bleak to Bright - Part Fourteen

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: okay so this is where the denouement makes everyone extremely mad at me, but oh well, i couldn’t make it easy for you now could i ;)

Warnings: angst, language

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART FOURTEEN

It was two days after Loki and you had confirmed that you’d be leaving - more like running away - on Friday. Loki said he’d bring you across the world, wherever you wished, and had offered outer space travel only if you felt safe. Albeit, space travel with Loki sounded fun, you weren’t truly there yet.

He came by, spending a few hours, but leaving in the wee hours of morning to prepare for your departure. Securing flights and drivers and new identities and all.

How you trusted him so completely without knowing him more than a handful of days, you had no idea. Maybe the two years of agony you’d spent away from him? The sudden reappearance and the way your world seemed to shift into focus when he was around? Whatever it was that made you trust the God of Mischief and Lies, it was sure as hell potent.

You were all packed now. You had bags full of jeans and underwear and shoes and cosmetics. He’d instructed you only to bring the necessities, but it seemed like you were scared to run out of L’OREAL mascara.

Loki had mentioned sandy beaches and hot tropics, and you’d mentioned forests and mountain sides. Wherever your haven was, you knew it would be home simply by Loki’s presence.

The buzzer sounded and it brought you out of your reverie of the future, jarring you back to the reality where you still had to wait a few more days.

You went to the buzzer. “Who is it”? you asked.

“It’s Bruce!”

Your heart rattled in your chest.

“I brought fish and chips!” He sounded genuinely happy, the normal brother to come and drop off food when he knows his baby sister is off work. Because he knew you were lonely.

Well, not so lonely anymore, but Bruce didn’t know that.

You buzzed him up, closing you bedroom door so he wouldn’t see your packed bags.

You tried to look natural. What was natural for you anyway? Sad. Bored. Monosyllabic.

Bruce walked in holding two cardboard boxes filled with greasy newspaper, handing it off to you while he took off his jacket. “You look well!” he said, mouth in a wide grin. He saw the effects of you being near your soulmate. He could see the glow of your skin, your eyes wide and awake, your smile real.

He thought you were just getting over Loki.

“I’m fine,” you said with a corner smile, bringing the food to the kitchen.

“I’m just going to use the bathroom real quick,” he said, galloping off.

You took the food out of the wrapping, settling it in dishes, the smell warm and tasty. You took out two glass bottles of Perrier and put metal straws, topping off your presentation with utensils.

Bruce came out of the bathroom with a frown. “Why is your bathroom empty?” he asked.

You could feel your heart dropping, but you schooled your features.

“I did a huge clean up and I put everything in my room,” you said, turning and pretending to store some glasses in the cupboard. “Must have just forgotten to put them all back.”

When you turned to face your brother, he was nodding, but that PhD brain was working; you could practically see the wheels turning in his brain.

You sat at the counter, your elbow brushing his. “How was your week?” you asked, mostly to distract him. If he pondered too long, he just might come to the right conclusion.

But everyone thought Loki was dead, right?

You swallowed thickly, suddenly unable to indulge in the food your mouth had watered over just a few seconds ago.

“Yeah,” Bruce said, shaking his head, taking a seat beside you. “It was... intriguing.”

“How so?” You dug into your fries, trying to be as normal as ever, glad the conversation was erring away from your empty bathroom.

“Tony’s been trying to build this AI,” Bruce started, toying around with his fries. “He’s asked me to join him.”

Your brows raised and you just hoped you weren’t displaying too much emotion to put him off. “That sounds awesome.”

Bruce shrugged. “It’s a project.”

You both ate your food in quiet chitchat. Bruce indulged you in Tony’s new plan, on the ongoings of the Avengers, and how many schools had begged to get Bruce in on the staff. You had nothing as flamboyant as that, but you told him about your work and where you’d stopped to get coffee at a new place around the corner.

You absolutely ignored the nagging, tall and dark presence in the back of your mind.

Bruce left rather quickly, claiming he wanted to get back to Tony. You found it a little strange the way he scurried out of your apartment, barely remembering his jacket. You chalked it up to good old Bruce and his anxiety.

You clean up the place, making sure to put everything back in its place. You didn’t want to leave rotting dishes for whoever it was to find you missing.

You felt strange, as if your encounter with your brother was more. As if the world was telling you something. Maybe you should have said a sort of goodbye? No. Bruce was way too smart. He would have seen you coming and he’d have asked all the right questions to get you to spill.

Maybe it was just that you were leaving in a few days, for a long time, and that this was quite possibly the last time you’d ever see your brother. You hadn’t even hugged him. He’d just scurried out like there was a fire in his pants.

You’d written him a goodbye letter that you’d planned on leaving under your pillow the night you left. It was filled with reasons why he shouldn’t come after you, mainly that you were happy.

Because you were! Loki settled all the storms raging in your veins. He quieted the winds and soothed the seas. His presence was like slipping into well fitting gloves. It was meant to be. And you’d be damned if they wouldn’t let you be with the only man you wanted to be with.

Loki walked in as you were staring out the window. The door clicked shut just as his arms encircled your waist, warm and steady. His nose pressed into the curve of your neck, and his scent invaded your senses. He was a solid block at your back, making your heart beat erratic in your chest.

“You’ve been worrying,” he said, his voice rough.

The way he knew you so well was sometimes worrisome.

“Bruce has been here.”

“Ah.” He pulled away, putting his hands on your shoulders and spinning you until he was the one with his back to the window. “Was it goodbye?”

You nodded. “I didn’t say goodbye, like you said,” you answered, feeling the thickness of emotion rising in your throat. “But it was quite possibly the last time I see him.”

Loki smoothed his hands onto your cheeks, using his thumb to wipe the wet corners of your eyes. “For a while,” he said, his voice a whisper. “I promise you will see him again.”

“He was acting to strange too,” you said. “He was talking about his new project with Tony and all, and I just chalked it up to his anxiety, but it was weird the way he left.”

You felt Loki stiffen, his eyes hardening as he bore his stare into yours. “What did he say?” he asked, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You looked up at him, frowning, trying to read into his mind, but like always, Loki’s inner monologue was but a mystery to you.

“Something about an AI,” you answered. “Or whatever. But he left a while ago.”

Loki seemed to ponder for an instant, but his entire body was rigid under your fingers.

“Did he leave anything behind?” he asked, and he pulled away from you, walking to your kitchen.

“No,” you said, putting your hands in your back pockets. “He left his food but I threw that away. No leftovers for you.” Your weak attempt at humor didn’t even make Loki laugh.

He went to the counter where you and Bruce had sat, passing his index on the countertop. He was frowning deeply, black curls pushed messily behind his ears. You took a good look at him then, his dark blue sweater and black slacks, the way the colors made him look cold but you, of all people, knew intimately the warmth of his flesh.

“What is it?” you asked, watching him skim the surface of the stools, brows pulled in concentration.

Then his hand flexed and he stopped. He bent slowly, passing his hand under the counter. When he straightened back up, he was holding what looked to be a little aluminum ball.

“Dust?” you asked, taking a few steps forward.

“Shit.” His shoulders tensed and he crushed the little ball between his index and his thumb. “Microphone.”

The word seemed to buzz all over your skin, making your heart throb painfully against your throat. “What?” It was a whisper and you froze, watching the way Loki looked back over your shoulder to the window, throwing the crushed device to the floor.

“We must leave at once,” he said, springing into action. He left you standing like a statue in the kitchen as he ran for your room, throwing the door open. You heard him shuffling about, grabbing a few bags and then hurrying back. He shoved a bag strap into your hand. “Y/N.” He shook you slightly, his gaze darting from your face to the window. “We must lave right now. They know.”

You grabbed onto the strap, but your grasp was weak. Your knees felt like jell-o.

“I don’t have the Tesseract,” Loki said, grabbing your free hand and hauling you towards the door. “So we must get to the plane. Are you listening?”

You nodded, but his words were just that - words. They occupied the space between the both of you, and as he hauled you out into the corridor, the world shifted to a blur.

You both tumbled down the stairs, you gripping onto his hand, him looking back every so often to make sure you were alright. At the bottom of the staircase, he took you by the jaw and kissed you harshly. The wind was knocked from your lungs and you clung to him so desperately.

“I will never leave you,” he panted against your mouth. “Never again.”

That promise returned the fire to your limbs, the air to your lungs, and you nodded, giving him a determined look. “I’m with you,” you whispered, and he smirked, bringing his mouth back down to yours for another breathtaking kiss.

“I’m with you,” he uttered, grabbing your hand once more and pushing open the door, daylight seeping in.

You tumbled onto the sidewalk and halted.

There was a man standing there, leaning against a car, arms crossed over his chest.

Bruce.

MORE SMEXY TIMES IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! Any ideas where this is going? I’m telling you, this looks hopelessssssss ;)

Tags: @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor @winchescumberholland @morganmofresh @dazedkrosupreme @postsbyjenipeo @copper-boom @jesuswasnotawhiteman

#loki #lokixyou #lokixyn #lokixreader #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #angst #soulmate au

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aspiringharlot · 3 years

Text

y/n takes takes care of bratty, sub, shiggy.

Ok! Eeeee! I did it! First y/n and first BNHA story done! This one is about a bratty sub Shiggy! There are some points where it’s clear I wasn’t sure what a bratty sub Shigaraki would say but hopefully overtime as I become more familiar with the characters that will change! I think I did this one pretty quickly so, forgive me, there are probably a few mistakes in terms of tense and grammar that I didn’t catch. Another little thing, this story ended up a lot fluffier/mild than I thought I was capable of and I even ended up dropping an L-bomb!

(Story Includes, mention of injury and bullet wounds, bondage elements, brat elements, l-bomb, sneak peek of little spoon Shiggy and of course, sex )

(minors please do not interact)

(tagging @palbabor-writes and @kugutsuu cause they seemed interested, p.s. don’t worry @palbabor-writes public sex and degradation Hawks is up next!)

EDIT: adding @tod0oki to the tags, happy to have you!

Enjoy!

It was hard work, keeping Tomura Shigaraki in line. Sure, you allowed him control on most days, heaven knows he needed to feel some sense of control in his life, but really there was no doubt, at the end of the day, you made the decisions in the relationship. That never stopped your Shiggy from being a brat though.

Today was just as bad as any other day wrangling your lover, only this time with the added difficulty of having to literally prevent Shigaraki from moving as he pleased. Hesitant as you were to admit it, you did not possess the brute strength required for the task. Instead you relied on a sly trick. Tying him up in bondage gear which was typically used on you.

When he was finally secured, Shigaraki whined, pulling at the restraints. Around his narrow wrists were sturdy leather straps, fitted tightly and anchored to the metal bed posts in order to restrict his movements. Your lover was red faced, lying down on his bed, dirty sheets bunched around his sweating form.

‘I should change those out soon,’ you thought before returning your attention to Tomura.

“oh, Tomura, come on… if you refuse to rest Kurogiri and I are just going to keep you tied up longer.” You lowered yourself to sit beside him on the full-sized bed, moving your hand to his head and smoothing his hair down.

Shigaraki grunted, shaking his head out of your hand in defiance. You scowled down at him.

“You know, for a man who’s been shot four times you have far too much energy.” Swiftly you stood up, dusting crumbs of food from your jeans. You really should change those sheets out… If you wait much longer there’ll be an ecosystem thriving in the cotton threads. Meh, you’ll work on it later when Shigaraki is asleep and infinitely more manageable.

Come to think of it, you should change his bandages soon. Kurogiri or the others weren’t around to do it this time, meaning you’d have to tame the beast all by yourself.

“ts.” You clicked your tongue. “I’ll be back,”

You exited the room without giving Shigaraki the chance to retort, heading straight for the kitchen cabinet responsible for holding the everyday vitamin and mineral supplements you’d feed Shigaraki. Now, however, you rummaged past the gummy vitamins, searching for a bottle of Nyquil. Upon its acquisition you turned back on your heel making your way to the bedroom your lover was restrained in. You stopped in the bathroom on your way back, collecting a pair of cosmetic scissors and gauze amongst other wound supplies. As you balanced all the items in your arms you could hear a distinct clanking noise. The noise of the restrains being tested and fought against.

You came back into the room with a sigh, looking at Tomura with dead and unamused eyes. He was fruitlessly trying to decay the leather wrapped around him, his own wrist disallowing the angle to make such a thing possible.

“Could you just, I don’t know… cooperate? Maybe, allow yourself some time to heal so you get better faster?” The eye contact you made with Shigaraki was aggressive. Testy. He smiled, curling his upper lip into a sneer.

“Make me.” He taunted.

You could see the thoughts behind his eyes. His exact line of thinking. ‘What’s y/n gonna do? Put me in time out? Make me stay in here an extra hour so I think about what I’ve done?’

In frustration you made a low noise in the back of your throat- the past two days have been utter hell. First the League’s failure at that dumb hero thing and more importantly, the four bullet wounds permeating your lover. Then there was the 12 hours you spent waiting for an underground doctor to come and dig the lead out of Shigaraki’s skin. That was 12 hours of relentless worry you had to deal with! And now, for the past day and a half you’ve had to deal with Tomura’s mood swings.

Now, it wasn’t that you didn’t understand. You were aware of the crushing feeling of personal failure which came with a train wreck you conducted. Still, you were willing to wait on Shiggy hand and foot, your only request that he allow you to take control and make him better.

But he just had to keep fighting you. Making you take drastic measures.

Your attention is caught up by the straps holding Shigaraki down, reminding you of the nights he would fuck you hard and rough, making you gasp in unrelenting pleasure. When he was done, you’d always be like putty in his hands, laying there blissfully exhausted and compliant. You curl your lips into a grinch-like smile. Of course. There was your ticket to Shigaraki’s submission.

You just have to fuck the fight out of him.

“Okay.” You finally said, nodding your head nonchalantly. “Okay. I’ll make you.” Calmly you set the supplies you gathered on the dresser top across from the bed, keeping only the scissors in your hand.

Coming up to the side of the bed you gave the scissors a few experimental snips, the metal making a distinct phip sound.

Shigaraki pressed himself back into the mattress, raising a scarred eyebrow up when you traced the scissor across the gray cotton t shirt. That single eyebrow multiplied into two as you took the scissors to begin cutting through his shirt.

Shigaraki started to squirm as he felt the cool, stale air of his room settle on his skin.

“What are you-“ you paused your delicate snipping to roughly grab the bottom half of his face in your hand, squeezing him to make his mouth fall open and halt his speaking.

“I’m making you cooperate…” You roughly released his face.

Ignoring his continued struggling, you went back to cutting his shirt open, until you were able to peel it off his body- the sweatpants he wore were next though you were hesitant to cut them. They were a grey pair which hung deliciously low on his hips and slid down lower and lower throughout the day. You decided against cutting them, instead shimmying them down to sit close to his shins. His underwear though, that was fair game. You took it off eagerly and drank in the sight of Shigaraki naked before you.

He was pale, still recovering from the blood loss he’d endured only two days prior, and his skin seemed especially swallow- giving off the appearance of fragility. You knew better however- Shigaraki, as weak as he may seem by appearance alone, was a force of nature.

Today you were making your way to the eye of the storm.

“Is getting me naked supposed to make me listen to you?” Tomura asked, his eyes narrowed to cynical slits.

“No… hah.” You let out a breathless laugh. “But this will.”

You were down between his knees in an instant, breathing hot breath over Shiggy’s cock. Before Shigaraki could fully process what you were doing, he’s hard, not that that was unusual, your lover was an easy guy to excite. Still, despite his nudity, he was not expecting this kind of attention, especially after being such a brat.

You were gentle at first, getting his cock used to the stimulation, stroking it languidly, licking at the slit of his cock a few times. You shuddered in satisfaction when you made your way down to his balls and heard him sigh in pleasure at the sensation of your warm tongue lapping at each testicle. Still, you knew better than to think a simple blow job would tame Tomura Shigaraki, successor of All For One.

For now, as you pleased him, he’d act all bashful but, as soon as you exert full control over the pacing of this intimate encounter, he’d start bratting again. When that happens, you’ll just have to take things to eleven.

“Ohh… fuck…” with a jolt, Shiggy thrust his hips up into your soft hand. To him, the pleasure was a most welcome distraction to the sharp aches of the bullet wounds scattered across his body. He’d been playing stoic about the pain for the past two days, but the wounds felt like hot agony for most of the day. He needed this pleasure.

“Your uh, your mouth.” He said, pinching his eyes up in pleasure. “y/n use your mouth on my cock.”

Immediately you ceased all contact with him. His eyes flew open.

“No.” you said with a shrug.

Shigaraki scrunched up his eyebrows and wiggled his hips childishly, making his cock swing like a metronome. “Yes!”

You firmly locked your hands on his hips, stilling the movement, “No.”

“W- Why? “ he whined. “Why aren’t you rubbing my cock anymore?” his voice pitched up, revealing how badly he wanted to feel your touch.

“Well,” You start. “You haven’t been very cooperative with me. I mean, why should you make all the decisions? Why do you get to dictate both what you do and what I do, Hmm? That doesn’t seem very fair.” Your own voice took on a condescending lilt and you tilted his head up with your finger so you could properly look into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide with lust and along his temple you could faintly see a pulse point pumping blood in time with the throbbing of his erection.

He wanted it. Bad.

“Let me take care of you, just leave everything to me…” you brought yourself down to his level to softly mutter in his ear. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

You didn’t have to wait for his response to know what he was going to say.

“Suck my cock, now.” He growled.

You took a deep breath and pulled your own shirt off over your head, not as you normally would, but as women do in tv and movies, all in one fluid motion. Your jeans were next, as you slid them off your bare legs, your panties joining them on the floor moments later.

With the grace of a swan you climbed over Shigaraki, positioning yourself on your hands and knees as you backed yourself up to his face.

“Oh so now y/n’s gonna be a big, strong, woman and make me- mhfmfmfm!” You grinded your pussy against his face, enjoying the psychological pleasure more than the physical. Grinding your labia against any ole thing wouldn’t really do it for you- but knowing that Tomura could barely breathe around your pussy as it sat right on his face gave you butterflies and made your hole start to gush.

“There you go… Good Boy…” You panted. Finally you pulled yourself away from Tomura’s mouth and flipped around, now straddling him cowgirl. In seconds, your hand wrapped around his member and positioned it to slide right in your hole. You sat down and took in the shocked, but pleasure-ridden face of Tomura.

You started to grind your hips down and bounce experimentally. In the past, the two of you have refrained from cowgirl, Shigaraki always wanting to hold full control over the action of fucking your pussy. As he laid back and felt his toes start to curl and twitch in pleasure he wondered if he was an idiot.

“See, Tomura~” you cooed as you leaned down, dangling your clothed breasts in his face. “Wasn’t my course of action so much better? Now you get to feel my wet pussy against your cock, isn’t that so much better?”

At a loss for words Shigaraki nodded his head frantically. He was already close. You smiled.

“So does that mean you’re gonna listen to me? Cooperate and do what I say?” that particular phrasing removed him from his headspace of ecstatic compliance.

“Nuh- No!” he choked out as you bounce faster and harder. Shigaraki started gasping and clenching his eyes shut, trying to block out the pleasure to last longer.

“Yes~ you’re gonna give in to me, Tomu-”

“Nu- oh fuck!” he shook his head before tensing up, his whole body becoming stiff underneath you as you felt three hot spurts of cum fill your pussy. You chuckled, you didn’t even have to clench down on his cock to make him come, just the sensation of you bouncing on his cock was enough.

You stilled yourself as he laid under you, gauging his reaction to the orgasm.

He was flushed, and still panting heavily, meaning he came pretty hard. You clench down as his sensitive cock remains in your pussy and giggled when he let out a high pitched keen.

“So, are you gonna be good now? Are you gonna stay in bed for me?” Shigaraki blinked heavily, coming back to himself.

“You’re never…hah… going to get me to…hah… cooperate… hah…” His eyes fluttered shut despite themselves. You bit your lip. It couldn’t be helped. You were gonna have to keep riding him.

Just as Shigaraki’s breath started to even out you rose off of him, only to sink back down at full force. Shigaraki was taken out of his cool down by both the pain coming from the irritation of his bullet wounds and the pleasure of his cock being stimulated.

“Whuu? No, no it’s too sensitive!” he cried out. You said nothing, grinding down into him, fucking him like an animal.

As you continued fucking him Shigaraki trembled beneath you, whimpering in unrestrained pleasure, pulling against the leather cuffs which restricted his free reign. The noises he made were downright sinful, varieties of “ah, ah, ah”’s and “oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”’s being commonly repeated noises.

You gazed down at his face- his eyes rolling around in his skull, frequently fluttering shut only to shoot open when you switched up the rhythm you used. His skin was flushed to hell and back- making him look obscenely cute as he whined out in pleasure, mouth open, drool dripping from the corners of his lips. As you continued looking, you had an epiphany. You loved Tomura. You loved, loved Tomura. You want him to get better and you want to see him let go like this every day.

In the moment you say it.

“I love you.”

Shigaraki flooded your pussy with more cum- gasping loudly as he rode out his orgasm. There’s no way he heard your little confession. And you were okay with that. It’d probably be better to reveal that when he’s not confined to his bed.

You pulled yourself off his cock and felt cum drip down from your thighs. You yourself haven’t cum, but you have accomplished your goal. One look at Shiggy told you that he was too blissed out to fight against your care. Your hand went to rest on his cheek.

“You’re going to be good, yeah? Let me do what I need to do?” you stroked the patch of dry skin under your fingertips.

Shiggy sleepily nodded. Looks like you wouldn’t be need the Nyquil.

Shigaraki laid still as you moved to tend to his wounds- tenderly cleaning them and re bandaging the sore holes. His joints would be sore as well. You decided to uncuff Shigaraki and maneuver his funky gloves on his hands.

When you’re done you pulled your lover’s sweatpants back up and crawl into bed behind him, For tonight you decided against changing the sheets. Instead you got comfortable in the well-used sheets, repositioning Shiggy so he could be your little spoon. You took a deep breath and smelled his hair. It was a little ew, but you didn’t mind. Just as you thought about your revelation, you heard a soft sigh.

You smiled and cuddled closer, whispering those three words.

“I love you.”

And though you couldn’t see it, Tomura Shigaraki’s eyes widened from their slitted state for just a moment before a soft yet excited smile graced his features. Slowly, his eyes slid shut again as he relaxed into your arms.

#bnha shigaraki #sub shigaraki #y/n x shigaraki #brat shigaraki #hope you guys liked it

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sooibian · 3 years

Text

Catch These Hands

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader

Description: Living with Baekhyun comes with its own challenges

Themes: Fluff (surprise!!!!), established relationship, make up artist and masseur Byun, a little bit of byuntae, and one (1) Eminem reference lol

Prompt: @/notyourenglishprofessor : You SAY you didn’t eat in bed but these crumbs say differently.

A/N: Happy Birthday @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt !!!! here’s your biggest pet peeve woven into a bbh fic! Hope you enjoy it XD

Word count: ~ 1.7k

Nights out have never agreed with you. It’s 2 a.m. and your feet hurt from the heels, your head hurts from the drinks, your little black dress (your best friend sure does have a penchant for party clichés) is mocking your food baby, your makeup feels clumpy - maybe you overused the setting powder but you wouldn’t know because the complex art of blending cosmetics has always eluded you. How do they make it look so easy in YouTube tutorials?

As you’re keying in the passcode to your apartment, despite all the malaise, a sudden surge of comfort courses through your veins at the thought of your adorable boyfriend asleep in a clean, cozy bed, engulfed in warm and fresh sheets that exude the fragrance of a spring meadow - courtesy of your brand new laundry detergent. You imagine he is dressed in his snuggly pajamas, with his lips slightly parted, dark hair tousled, and your ostrich plushie clutched to his chest. Ever since you started living with him, you’d never spent a night away from home but the one time you returned after a weekend long Neuroscience conference, you found your plushie resting in the comfort of his arms. The next morning he insisted that he didn’t know where it came from.

‘Time to catch him red handed’, you smile to yourself.

Kicking off your heels and scraping your hair up in a bun, you tiptoe to your bedroom and the faint melody of Baekhyun singing in a highly expressive croon falls upon your ears.

Tell me you’ll love again, come back to me again..

He should’ve been long asleep and while you can’t wait to crash out either, you allow yourself the pleasure of eavesdropping on his heavenly vocals that always sound especially sweet when he’s wrestling sleep. Until..until you hear it.. the sharp crunch of plastic which sends you barging into the bedroom with exasperation painted across your features.

Baekhyun clamps his mouth shut.

Instead of jumping out of bed to wrap you in his arms, he uncharacteristically stays burrito-ed in his duvet, fixing you with an apologetic gaze. Elbow crushing the pillow underneath him, shoulders crouched, lips pursed, hair dishevelled, pajama bottoms scrunched up to his calves, he tries to blink away the very apparent guilt in his eyes. Your ostrich plushie lay on your side of the bed as if its neck had been snapped like a popsicle stick.

As you loom over him, lower lip wobbling, he pushes his weight further down the pillow but the tail end of the red Orion choco pie wrapper teasingly peeks from underneath it, glimmering in the cozy golden lighting of the bedroom, already chuckling at the drama that is to ensue.

You’re too tired for this.

Without a word to him, you grab a bunch of blankets from the dresser, shut it with a loud bang and stomp out of the room while Baekhyun’s bearing is that of a frozen frame. As you’re questioning your life choices and are about to vent your frustration on the irreproachable couch, your weary gaze finds the bane of your existence again - crumbs. White, inelegant fragments of food conspicuous against your tan sofa.

They say the more you try to avoid something, the more you create it. This was unequivocally the worst quote you’d ever read. You created nothing! You were not the one to leave this slew of crumbs on the sofa neither did you leave a pile of crumbs on the bed! It was all Baekhyun!

You’re way too tired for this.

Drowsy, you lie down on the floor, curled up in the many blankets, although still cautious as your piercing eyes doggedly probe for more evidence of Baekhyun’s insolence. Surprisingly, the rug was clean-ish. It was almost as if he had planned on you sleeping on the floor tonight. This thought fuels the rage bubbling in the pit of your stomach so you force your eyes shut to avoid a shouting match this late in the night.

The shuffling sound of footsteps grows closer and you’re determined not to give him the satisfaction of even a glance. The sound comes to a halt and you feel a gentle caress of warm fingers ghosting over your cheeks which is quickly replaced with a smooth and cool touch of a cotton pad against your eyelids, cheekbones, jaw line, with a distinct scent of micellar water wafting in the little to no space between Baekhyun and you.

You continue to play dead as he’s quietly and deftly taking your makeup off while delicately holding you up by the back of your neck and you coyly move your face from side to side to allow him better access to every inch of your skin.

“Too much setting powder”, he whispers.

Darnit!

“Still so pretty”, he remarks in his dulcet voice. Your head now rests in his lap and he’s gently moving his thumbs in tiny circles under your brows, working his way from inside out and continuing the movement all around your eyes and ending back at the bridge of your nose, almost lulling you to sleep.

At this point every cell in your body is waging a war against your now weakened spirit that’s continuing to disregard him yet you find yourself revelling in his mellow affections.

“It’s a rookie mistake. Not to worry, baby, I’ll help you get it right the next time.” He reassures, planting a soft kiss on your pout.

“Right”, eyes still wilfully shut, you chastise him, “maybe when you find the time from eating in bed.”

“Yah! Don’t be like that.” Baekhyun whines, prying your eyes open with his fingers, not-so-gently.

You smack the back of his hand and sit up cross legged facing him. He stretches his hand out to pat your head and you smack it again invoking a look of pure confusion in Baekhyun’s soft features. His hand is now barely an inch away from your lips and he commands with a raised brow, “Now kiss it better.”

“Ew!” Your hand strikes the back of his, again. “How many times do I have to tell you not to -”

“Not to eat in bed!” Baekhyun completes your sentence with a deep sigh, “I know and I wasn’t -”

“Do not lie to me Byun Baekhyun!” Warning him, you wag your finger as annoyance betrays your voice, rendering your pitch shrill. Dusting the corners of his mouth with the pads of your fingers, you sneer, “These crumbs say otherwise. You know I hate it when you eat in bed! It’s ...It’s….disgusting! And -”

“And?”

“You always ignore my post-its!”

Baekhyun huffs and runs a hand through his hair. Letting on a forced smile, he reasons, “We’ve been living together for three years now. I think it’s time you stopped leaving ‘do not eat’ post-it notes on everything you buy!”

Tilting your head to the side, you explain animatedly, “First of all, you won’t let me buy snacks on our grocery runs because they’re unhealthy or whatever and you want to bring about a stupid dietary reform in the household which, by the way, is failing miserably - ”

“Yah!! We’re still in January, don’t be such a pessimist!”

“Do not interrupt me! The few that I do manage to sneak into the cart are mine and mine alone!”

“It’s just that..the ones that you buy taste better”, he mumbles, unveiling the most powerful weapon in his artillery - the pout.

“That is the most ridiculous thing that’s come out of your mouth today aside from the crumbs! I imagined you’d be...”, it’s nearly 3 a.m. and you’re starting to descend into a fugue state, “you’d be...curled up in bed like a...like a... cooked shrimp with a plushie clutched to it’s chest!”

Visibly offended, he flicks your forehead and bellows, “Cooked shrimp!? It’s called the fetal position. Look it up!”

“I know what it’s called!” Your livid expression eases into a rather ill meaning smile, “My apologies, I took you for a grown man.”

“What in the world - I am a grown man!” His lips stretch into a wide grin and the tips of his fingers tease the sensitive spot on your neck, “would you like to see?”

“You’re disgusting, Byun Baekhyun! A grown man does not eat in bed!” You smack the back of his hand. Again.

“Strike four! You’re obligated to kiss it better now!”

Tears start to well up in your eyes at the sight of his hand dangling so close to your face. “I’m tired”, you cry, burying your face in your hands as exhaustion and exasperation take over, “I really need you to stop eating in bed.”

“Babe, I -” His eyes grow into large brown circles at the sight of your distressed state and he freezes.

“I feel like the crumbs will, like, turn into ferocious ants and nibble at my skin while I’m asleep”, you break into full blown sobs and Baekhyun takes you in his arms, holding you tight against his warm and comforting frame and patting your head to calm you down.

“Hush, baby”, he sing-songs, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! You go get changed into something comfortable and I’ll dust the bed, okay?”

“Can you change the sheets instead?” Sniffling, you ask him with wide, pleading eyes, a sly smile playing at your lips.

His eyebrows shoot upwards and he exclaims, “It’s three in the morn-”

“Please?” You sing-song, a little too loudly.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Okay! I’ll change the sheets.”

With his slightly dispirited face sandwiched between your hands, you ask cheerfully, “And you promise to never eat in bed again?”

“I promise to never eat in bed again.” A dejected Baekhyun says to his knees.

“And you won’t steal my snacks?”

You had now started to push your luck with him, but it was a risk you were willing to take.

He flicks your forehead a little harshly this time making you squeal. “Can you stop with the stupid post-its, already?”

Rubbing your forehead, you surrender and get up. “Fine! I’ll go shower now.”

Baekhyun wraps his arms around your waist. Nuzzling your neck, he coos seductively, "I’ll join you.”

“Byun Baekhyun!”

#exowritersnet #bbh-net #exosnet #exo fluff #baekhyun fluff #exo #baekhyun #exo oneshot #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun oneshots #byun baekhyun #exo x reader #baekhyun x reader #exo x you #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfics #exo fanfic #exo fanfics

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xmyshya · 3 years

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Soft

summary: I am a firm believer that Atsumu CAN be soft. When he wants to. And now he just might. genre: fluff, crack, smut warnings: fem!reader, soft Atsumu, sexual tension, making love at the end, MINORS DNI special thanks: HQHQ and our lovely Atsumu sessions, you guys gave me so much inspiration for the last part. I love you. I love you all. a/n: I don’t want to say that I’m proud of this one, but I am. wc: 2.7k

Looking at the friend sitting across the table in the quiet corner of this adorable cafe, you can’t help but think how crazy it has been. Mostly because he’s an idiot, but you LOVE that idiot. “Y/N? Are ya even listenin’?” “Uhh… yes?” “What were ya thinkin’ ‘bout so hard anyway?” “Okay, uhm, remember when…”

The gym was huge and offered a lot of equipment, half of it having names you’d never heard before. The only problem? It was constantly crowded. Except for crazy early hours, which is why you were dressed in your tracksuit and drenched at 5 am. Yet, you were still not alone at this ungodly time. On the first day, he visibly hesitated before entering, clearly wanting absolutely no company. You couldn’t really blame him, he was probably followed by throngs of fans and paparazzi every day. The man must have deemed you harmless however, because he stayed. Well, at the other end of the enormous room, but stayed. He came back on the next day. And next one. And another, and soon enough you were nodding at each other in a silent greeting. This odd ritual continued on for a few weeks, until… “Hey, ya… come here often?” Fuckfuckfuck, he was still sporting the smug smile, though his eyes were filled with panic. You stared at him dumbfounded. Guess even celebrities struggle sometimes. “Uhh… I… N-no, this is my first time.” Both of you erupted in laughter. “Miya Atsumu, nice to meet ya.” “Oh yeah, I know.” He raised an eyebrow. “I mean… L/N Y/N, nice to meet you too”

“D’ya really gonna rub it in ma face til the end of ma life?” “Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ll forget when I’m old, so I gotta make use of it till I can.” The blonde doesn’t look happy. Amusing. “So what were you talking about?” “Oh right, so there’s gonna be a party for the team and friends, and… uhh… would you like to… be my plus one?” Of course you would like to. Love to. “Lemme know what colours ya wanna wear.” “Ehh? You wanna match or something?” There is a teasing undertone in your question. He either misses it or ignores. “I’ve always wanted to do that…” But you already know. Black and gold, the colours of his team. Yes, obviously that’s the only reason. It’s completely unrelated to your current imaginations of Atsumu looking smoking hot in a black fitted suit, black shirt, and matte gold tie. Totally not.

You’re still adding final touch ups, when the doorbell rings through the air. “Open!” In response there’s a click of the door, opening and closing, and Atsumu announces his arrival with a sigh saying why aren’t ya ready yet. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You shift from your bedroom to the hall, and he whistles. Sharply. You know you look good in that black dress, hugging tightly all your curves (extra points for a deep notch on the back and thin golden chains), and golden heels. And now, he knows it too. Just like you assumed, he does look great. So great, that the only image filling your head as your eyes run down and up on him is how much you want to rip that suit off of him. Party? You’d rather have a one-on-one party against the wall he’s leaning on. Or a kitchen counter. Or a sofa. Shower maybe? “Are ya checkin’ me out?” Again that smug look on his face. You really want to wipe it off. With your lips. “Must be your imagination.” You push him out of the apartment and lock the door.

One of the greatest mysteries of this world must be why elevator scenes are so… weird. Weirdly hot. You’re both on the opposite ends of the tiny cube, ogling each other and turning your gaze away. “Ya really look beautiful.” “Thank you.” Silence. “You look great too. Perfect ten.” You look him straight in the eyes, and if you have the timing right… “Very fuckable.” Ding and the door opens. You brush his chest while walking out. Atsumu forgets to leave the elevator.

Party hall is already swarming with people when you arrive. Faces from magazine covers flash here and there, some of them entertaining whoever wants to listen, some whispering mysterious promises in eager ears, some just roaming around in search of god knows what. “I’ll get us some drinks” is one of those promises, and Atsumu leaves your side. He’s quickly replaced by one of those roaming creatures. “You here alone?” He’s much too close to your liking. “Actually I-” “You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. I’m Shugo-” “Meian!” The voice of your companion startles you with its sudden proximity, but also brings comfort. As soon as the drink is passed in your hand, you feel his touch on the small of your back. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were-” “We’re not.” “We’re friends.” Both of your replies come immediately. Meian straightens up and smiles. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I went for her?” “Not like I have any right to stop ya.” Miya says calmly, but you can feel his whole body tense up against yours.

“Alright everyone, we’d like to make a toast…” Clinking of glasses interrupts your surprisingly pleasant conversation with the MSBY captain, but soon enough he’s back to flooding you with questions. Atsumu walks away to join his other teammates. “Please excuse me.” You don’t even look at the male next to you, focused only on catching up with the blond friend. His questioning gaze burns a hole at the side of your head. “I came here with you.” “Is that the only reason?” Your eyes meet and you give him a lopsided grin. “Nah, you’re much hotter.” He stands a little taller, visibly more confident, fuller of himself. His hand finds its way to your hip and he pulls you a little closer.

Next two hours are spent on the dance floor, countless people already pulling you back before you even step outside of the designated area. You’re currently trapped in the arms of none other than Bokuto Koutarou, and you could swear you were swayed by the sheer force of his alone. But you don’t mind, his energy of a nuclear reactor and megawatt smile fully compensate for any inconveniences. The song comes to an end however, and you quickly follow him back to the table. “Ya don’t wanna dance anymore?” Atsumu asks when you settle in your chair, looking for something to replenish your energy. “Why?” “Ya looked so happy on the dance floor. And yet, yer sittin’ here now.” “Were you watching me this closely?” His ears fire up like Christmas lights. “I do.” “Huh?” “I do wanna dance.” For a moment you’re both just staring at each other in silence. Then you notice gears turning slowly in his head, and, at the moment of realisation, a light bulb. “May I please have this dance?” He holds a hand out, and you place yours in it. Atsumu leads you towards the swaying crowd, and then pulls you close. So close, that your bodies could merge. “And the next one too.” He purrs in your ear.

Miya’s breath on your skin is hot and distracting. Does he feel you shiver every time he exhales on your neck? He must, you conclude, since his palm is resting on your bare back. “Ya smell so good…” The whisper caresses your ear, his lips so close, yet so far. “Mmm… you too.” And those lips curl up.

It’s not just this dance. And not just the next one either. Many dances later and you’re still glued to his body, surrounded by a muscular arm, and one hand still in his. The other one playing mindlessly with his undercut. “Looks like Meian found someone to take home t’night.” “Hmm? Did you?” You pull a strand of his hair and lightly scratch his nape. “Do that again and I might get dangerous.” “Maybe I like doing dangerous things?” There’s a movement near your thigh, and you both hope those words carry a promise.

It’s well into the night and people start leaving, but it seems like the blonde is still not ready to let you out of his embrace. You lean your head on his shoulder, forehead right under his jaw, and let him rock you gently to the slow music. With eyes closed, breathing in his scent, it feels almost as if you two were the only people here. “Are ya tired?” You only purr in response. “Lessgo home then. Wanna stay at mine?” “Oya?” “I-i-it’s… not whatcha think… A won’t… won’t touch ya.” “But if you won’t, then what’s the point?” He freezes, agape, and you wonder how the hell someone so hot can become so flustered. “But seriously, I don’t have a change of clothes” which is a lie, because you do have spare panties in your tiny purse “or cosmetics, or-” “I’ll give ya somethin’ to sleep in.”

The door behind you closes with a quiet click. God, it feels so good to finally, finally take these heels off. You put your purse on a drawer right next to the door, and proceed to take your earrings off, placing them neatly in a tiny pouch. “Tsumu? Could you help me with the necklace?” He doesn’t say anything, instead coming behind you and trying to unclasp the piece of jewelry. Trying, because his hands shake. You take a sneak peek at him through the mirror, at his focused face and slightly poked tongue. He’s so adorable. In the meantime you reach to your hair and start removing the pins, but soon your hands are pulled away and replaced with his. It’s surprising but endearing how gentle this giant man can be. You close your eyes and just enjoy the moment, as your strands tickle your nape one by one. And then something hot and wet tickles your neck, right below your ear. Oh. Oh. “A… ‘m sorry, a didn’t mean to…” Nononono, come back here. You grab his tie and pull him down to a kiss, a searing clash of lips, slowly beginning to move against one another. One of his hands caresses your back, right under the edge of your dress, the other one pulls your hair gently making you gasp. His tongue slides along your lips painfully slowly, and you chase it with yours until the tips meet. The feeling is electrifying, sending shivers through your whole body.

Undressing Miya Atsumu is similar to unwrapping a Christmas present you’ve been waiting for for months. Button after button, you reveal more and more of his heavenly sculpted chest and stomach, your lips following the hands. He loves it, the feeling of your wet muscle soothing the bites drives him crazy, little purrs he lets out make his chest vibrate. It’s almost unbearable. He decides he can’t take it anymore when you hook your fingers under his pants and start unzipping them, grazing his cock. He pulls you close, sliding your dress off of you, and letting it pool at your feet. And then drags you to the bathroom, where he rids both of you of your underwear. The man enters the shower, extending his hand to you, and you grab it by instinct, before being pulled right under the stream of steamy water. “‘Tsumu, I’m gonna look like a panda!” “Eh? But pandas are cute tho?” “I’d rather look hot right now” He laughs boyishly, almost innocently, as he pumps some of his face wash and rubs it gently all over your features. His calloused fingertips massage your forehead and temples, while thumbs work on your chin and nose. It fills you with millions of bubbles, cotton candy surrounding your heart as fluffy as the foam. “‘Tsumu?” “Mmm?” “Kiss me.” And he does. At first it’s slow and sweet, but as your hands wash away the evening from the skin, there’s more hunger, more passion. Atsumu pulls and lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks out of the bathroom. “‘Tsumuuuu! The towels! We’re NOT sleeping in a wet bed!” “Who said anything about sleepin’, princess?”

Idiot.

Bonus scene: “Good morning sunshine.”

He whispers against your forehead after your lashes tickle his neck. His palms embrace your cheeks, and his lips on yours are as soft as summer rain. Pecks become open mouthed kisses, invitations and promises of summer heat. Breaths and sighs remind you of a seaside breeze, carrying the freshness of waves and hotness of sand. Your hands are roaming in search of a buried treasure, but no matter how much they find, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. His mouth ghost over the shells of your ears, spilling words smooth and shiny like pearls, while fingers trail new paths under the veil of your shirt. They discover new lands, gliding along the skin, making it bloom in tiny goosebumps wherever they touch. Kisses and licks flow at the surface of your neck, sealing and sucking over sensitive spots, painting them in pinks, reds, and purples. Big palms cover the hills of your breasts, thumbs sweep over the nipples so gently, that you’re not even sure if you imagined it.

Your naked body shivers underneath his, and arches into his warm embrace, as his lips press silent praises into your skin. You open your eyes, and you don’t know which is brighter - the sunshine pouring through the windows, or the sunshine of his hair. You can touch his hair though. So you do, and the soft rivers of gold cascade and tickle in between your fingers. Atsumu raises his gaze and smiles against your skin, lighting up your heart.

Reaching your heat, he pulls the strings of your pleasure with each kiss, each flick of his tongue, and you sing the ballad he composes. In this concert you’re the star, you’re the diva, and he’s merely there to worship you, to accompany your voice, to encourage and appreciate. He’s guiding you through the quiet breathy parts, not much louder than a whisper. He’s caressing the keys, adding more passion, more force, more depth, eliciting notes reaching higher, pushing you through a crescendo, rapidly, lovingly, until you’re nothing but an effusion of pleads and cries of his name.

“Atsumu, come back to me.” You breathe out.

And he’s walking the path again, kissing the ground he steps on, coming back to where he belongs, where he wants to belong. Your eyes meet when he glides into you, slowly, carefully, as if any sharp movement would shatter you and this moment. Atsumu nibbles at your lips and you let him in, let his tongue dance with yours, as your fingers intertwine.

One more push joins your hips, and you both let out a breathy sigh. He pulls back and rolls back in, making sure you feel all the veins, until his tip kisses your cervix. And again. And once more.

“Ah… Tsumu…” And he knows he’s lost.

“God, yer so beautiful.”

You’re sinking in his eyes like molten chocolate, and the whole world ceases to exist. There’s only you and him, and the flame spilling from where you’re joined, overtaking your bodies, minds, and senses. It’s too much, it wells up in your eyes and overspills, and he’s quick to brush it away. A kiss is placed on your temple and travels down your cheek and onto your neck. With a free hand you rub mindless patterns on his back, scrape at his nape, while his roams down along your skin, adorning all the curves.

You moan into his shoulder at the sudden touch. He only grazes your clit and you’re fluttering, pulling him deeper inside of you. The movement is slow, as slow as the roll of his hips, as the drag of his tongue on your throat. But it spreads like a wildfire, floods your mind in waves until everything is drowned in a white haze and explodes in a million stars.

“Come with me”

And he does. He paints his own milky way inside of you, releasing galaxies upon galaxies until he pours everything he has, until he’s empty and you’re full. He does, because he would follow you anywhere.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #miya atsumu smut #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu crack #miya atsumu crack #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu crack #mysh.supernova.[hq]

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serpenteve · 3 years

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i know most of ya fantasy follows similar plot lines but at least they try to change the status quo. either the heroine is from the persecuted minority and challenges the ruling class or she's the chosen one who at least spent some time with the persecute class and therefore Knows and fights against the majority for their rights.

meanwhile in sab the heroine doesn't seem to give a fuck about the persecuted minority in spite of her powers (because initially she wasn't part of them?) and in the end those people are NOT better off (and an argument could be made for how they are actually worse off lol), there are some minor changes made which are cosmetic at best and are not going to have a lasting impact. of course we hate it lol.

(i do like the crows books but those books function well only on their own because of the fun heist structure. they're not particularly large on the fantasy aspect which is my favourite genre, and even plot wise they're not that great, it's the character dynamics that work well. like. i don't actually remember any of the plot details from the books. meanwhile sab had so much potential for the political issues and fantasy aspects and it just falls flat. and then she DOUBLED down on it in the kos duology instead of trying to fix it.)

Alina's status as a Grisha also seemed very superficial in a weird way. Like, she spends the majority of her life repressing her powers and not knowing she's Grisha. Then she's Grisha for like, what, a year? During that time, she'd rather run away and ignore her problems than take her fate into her own hands. I can understand a reluctant hero and I can understand the familiar trope of "refusing the call" but Alina is a passive heroine and has to be forced through her own plot by Mal, the Darkling, Baghra, Nikolai, Tolya, Tamar, and literally everybody else, including the author 😒

And on the rare occasions that she does make decisions on her own, the narrative demonizes her for it. Oh, she's rebuilding the Second Army? Sounds like something an evil ambitious person would do 🤡Let's have her be mean to her abusive mentor and cut a hole in the ceiling to drive home how ~eeeeevil~ she's becoming! 🤡 Oh, she wants to go after the Firebird because that's literally her only option to defeat the villain? Sounds like something only a depraved power-hungry greedy slut would do!!!! 🤡🤡🤡🤡

The story actively strangles any sense of agency. So really, I can't even blame Alina for being the passive reactionary heroine she is. Bardugo punishes her for taking initiative and then makes her side with the only remaining monarch because then Alina can easily hand over the reigns of the country to the old establishment, go through Grisha deconversion, and then fuck off to a farm or whatever.

#viv answers #sab salt #alsdhskjfhskdfhjskdgfhjs #why leigh why

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abbynx · 3 years

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Man's greatest treasure

(Monoma Neito X Reader)

You find it particularly difficult when it comes to clashing amongst the most the rich and important who has colourful arrays of expensively glimmering rocks sewn in their clothes while you wore second hand clothing you've inherited from your older relatives. You find it additionally difficult you were practically the most underdressed person, ironically the most eye-catching one in the banquet. It seems like being the favoured darling among the crowd in this party sounds ethereal... If they weren't looking down at you on their noses with their brows raised, probably questioning how a simpleton such as you be in an extravagant banquet hosted by the wealthiest and privileged family in Japan.

Silently heaving a sigh, your gaze simply met with the floor. It was then you noticed the rich texture of the material of it. For all you know, the floor you're currently standing on is made with the most rarest stone known to mankind but at least it does not negatively interact with you. The nasty glares from rich strangers never seem to fade out even if you try to divert your attention into something else. Your ears can't help but to do its purpose, you've heard the things they've said about you.

How the hell did they even got here?

Who in the world thought it would be a good idea to invite them?

Did they...? Crashed the party?

Ugh, their attire is sooo last decade

Aren't they supposed to be... not invited?

Who invited this peasant here?

You have always dealt about comments about you. Whether it was because of your physical appearance, your personality, your status, your background, your ambitions and you have come into terms with it... You were born from a poverty-stricken family who raised a person who will give them financial support. You have always been the pawn, the answer to their financial needs. For the booze, the drugs, three meals a day, a decent living space... However, there would be times you would find yourself getting strangled with extremely irrational thoughts. You would let them fuel the way you doubt yourself to a certain extent you've contemplated about your own worth. A pawn to your parents, a doormat to privileged people, a plaything for fate to entertain themselves with... A worthless nobody who serves the role as the floor scrubbing servant who feeds on the leftover from the plates of the privileged.

The only reason you were because of an invitation from the celebrator himself. Neito Monoma wishes to celebrate his success of landing as the top ninth hero with you by throwing am insanely large gala.

His family was old money, filthy rich and will only get richer and richer as the decades pile on. Their family have always been composed of famous and successful people. His father owns a large company for jewellery mainly rings, his mother is a famous fashion designer, his eldest brother is the heir of the company and as well as a popular influencer, his sister is the famous actress with myriad of talents for both Broadway and media...

And how could you forget your darling Neito Monoma? The top ninth hero of Japan. Talented, skilled, cunning, intellectual, successful... Compared to a plain nobody such as you are. You often questioned your relevance and worth and he hates it.

It was no secret his family does not like you. They never bothered to conceal it even if Neito was around. You've met them before, it was the time your boyfriend introduced you to his family in a simple family dinner in the Monoma estate. You can still feel their gazes bearing scrutiny and obvious hatred. Neito was by your side all the time and you appreciate it... But there would be times where you're starting believe his parents that he deserves better.

You have encountered his sister awhile ago. She was divinely beautiful, a deity incarnated with a rotten core. With a face barren with any superficial cosmetics, it was then you realize that she is effortlessly beautiful as much as she is effortless at being ugly on the inside. The way she scrunched her face upon seeing you present in her brother's celebration... It was disgusting that you weren't able to stand your ground, but your in the depths of your despair, your inferiority got the best of you instead.

"Oh, I thought he would have already broke up with you-" she gazed at your from the tip of her nose. "-dear brother deserves the best and only the best. Not some peasant dressed in poorly sewn trash. Even the floor has more worth than you." She says, before walking off. It was awhile ago, just before the gala was crowded with too much people, and yet it still lingers in your mind.

The floor even has more worth than I have-

"Ah, you've made it!" You find yourself snapping out of your irrational thoughts induced trance when a certain pompous voice took your hands in his, pulling you closer until your head rests on his chest. You gradually pressed your head against his chest with a sigh, entwining your fingers with his soft and slender ones. His chest lightly shakes with a light-hearted chuckle, wrapping an arm over the small of your back while his free hand held your hands. "I apologize for my tardiness, I was simply greeting guests individually... So I decided to greet the best for last." He strokes your hand with his thumb, before pressing your wrist against his lips.

He usually enjoyed seeing you vulnerable when reacting to his shameless acts of public display of affection. The way you would timidly avert your gaze from his smug, but oddly affectionate ones, the heat emitting from your face and the smile you try to defy. But this time he saw a different type of vulnerability in your eyes... You were shaken, your usual vibrant eyes were dull and casted down, your head lowered, your shoulder sagged and back haunched. Monoma Neito immediately notices your unusual discomfort and pulls you out of the crowd to a more obscured area by the balcony.

He walks behind you, puts his hand atop your shoulders and rolls it back. He proceeds to walk in front of you, taking your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, before tilting it up to have your lovely eyes meet with his. His lips formed into a soft smirk before stealing a peck from you. He lingered a little longer, savouring the sweet spark between you and pulls away to stare into your eyes.

"Darling, chin up-" he puts his curled finger under your chin, tilting it up. "-your crown is falling."

"Oh shut it-!" At the most highest range of your voice, you shoved him by his chest and turned away from him to face the gardens below the balcony with a red face. A low chuckle erupted from the depths of his velvety vocals and takes this as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and puts his chin atop your shoulder.

"Are you particularly uncomfortable with the crowd? If I've known it sooner I would have swept you off your feet and have you in my bedroom-" his finger began to wander by your shoulders, wandering by your collarbone and neck, before he found himself tracing your jawline and cheeks. He leans to your ear, his hot breathe fanning your skin as he acquired an enticing voice. "-we could've done so many things- OOF!"

You did not let him speak any further by giving him a good elbow by his stomach and pushing him away. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun and the only thought you can pick at the back of your head was to jump off the balcony if he ever continued to fluster you like this. He doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach, but couldn't help but to laugh at your dirty assumptions.

"I was going to say reading books or watching a movie, but I see you have something else in mind," he laughs, wrapping his arms around your stiff figure. His laughs subsides with a sigh, before he puts his chin over your shoulder. "What's wrong, my love? You've been uncharacteristically silent the whole night."

You knew it wouldn't last long before he would address the elephant in the room. You were quite disappointed it took him a few minutes before he can see what's wrong. The moment he lead you out of the crowd, he knew something was wrong. You were becoming more easy to read the more he spent his time with you and you have no idea if it was a good thing or bad.

He sighs at your relentless desire to stay silence. You felt his lips on your cold neck, his cold hand grasping your hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

"Darling, please..." His voice was reduced into a more soothing tone. Genuinely concerned for your well being, taking you seriously... "Please tell me what to do to make you feel better..."

That damned voice he uses that instantly commands you to listen to him, to make yourself the best version of yourself just for him. Your chest started to well with pleasant feelings, knees started to feel weak, leading you to lean your body on his for support. He presses his body further, engulfing you with his comforting warmth. Neito gently strokes your arm in a manner to comfort you, just waiting for your answer.

"Is it my family again?" He asks, patiently waiting for your answer.

You sighed, turning around to face him. You leaned your head on his chest, grasping his hand in yours. "Promise me you won't confront them about it." You knew far too well he will find his ways to look for a loophole from your request, but at least you can hope he won't confront them because of you.

"... No promises." You rolled your eyes, lightly smacking him by the chest. He simply chuckles and caresses your cheek with a loving smile. "I'll try not to be too harsh."

You sighed, knowing full to well he might not abide with your conditions. "It's your sister..." You held the same hand he uses to caress your cheek, firmly pressing it. "She- she said that I'm worthless-"

"We both know it isn't true, my love," he smiles, kissing your knuckle and watches you squirm under his kiss. "You, my darling, are not worthless. You're priceless. Ignore my family, disregard their judgement. Their beliefs are all built in with vanity and you shan't let them affect you."

He deeply gazed upon your eyes, his grey orbs peering into your soul and piercing it with sincerity and reassurance. "No matter what they say, no matter what they do, you can't let them knock you off your humble pedestal. You can't let them dictate your worth. For you, my sweet sweet angel, are man's greatest treasure."

With tearful eyes, you embraced Neito, pressing your face against his chest. You denied yourself to sob, bursting into small whimpers as he strokes your back with his hand, swaying you from side to side to calm you down.

"It's alright my love, let it all out..." He comforts, kissing your cheek and letting you cry on his chest.

"I love you, Neito..." You wiped the stubborn tears away from your eyes, backing away from him.

He chuckles in amusement with sheer euphoria, he pulls you close. The distance between the two of you closed as both parties leaned forward to meet in a passionate kiss. He grasps your hand close to his chest, wherein his heart erratically pounds within him. After pulling away, he lingers for a second and leans his forehead against yours.

His lips touched yours as he breathlessly spoke, "I love you, too, my dearest Y/N. Remember you're worth more than you think."

#mha neito #monoma x reader #my hero x reader #mha #bnha

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lovetenya · 3 years

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𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

pairing: tenya iida x gn! reader

warnings: angst. anxiety. paranoia. self doubt. unkind words. non-explicit mentions of physical pain & scarring. implied death, but i don’t elaborate. lying. worrying.

word count: about 1.8k

author’s note: nobody writes any iida angst, (barely anyone writes for him at all) and as a vehement lover of angst, i thought i’d fill that gap. i love tenya, i really do, but i love to think about him in this way just as much as i love to believe he’d be the perfect other half. nobody is perfect, not even ingenium.

loving tenya iida is yellow.

it’s the color of the petals on the soft yellow daisy bouquet that he surprised you with on the night of your first anniversary. although it wasn’t a last minute purchase (how could he forget the best day of his life?), he still wasn’t exactly sure what to get.

what kind of object can symbolize a love so encapsulating?, he thought. there is no tangible item that could possibly show how i feel.

he picked up the familiar flowers from a shop on the corner that the two of you had walked past before on a date. it was one of the first ones, and you pressed your face against the glass to get a better look at the delicate flowers inside.

he caught himself in his romantics when he thought that none of them were prettier than you. nothing was or ever would be better than this moment, where you were on your tip toes in an attempt to see more flowers. that day, he insisted on buying you a small bouquet of yellow daisies, and thought it would be sweet to indulge and revisit the memory.

the week before your anniversary, he made you promise not to execute any elaborate celebratory plans.

“honey, you know that I’d rather do nothing with you than anything with anyone else,” he said. and he was serious. he would rather sit together on the couch half-listening to a documentary (because you can’t keep your eyes off each other) than go out to dinner, where he couldn’t let down his guard.

although he liked to think that his work made the world a safer place, he couldn’t help but feel paranoid whenever you were out in public. how could he be sure that someone in the restaurant didn’t want him dead? how could he be sure that they wouldn’t kidnap and kill you just to make him suffer? if he couldn’t be sure, was it worth the risk?

he’s an iida, after all. with their striking looks and long hero legacy, it’s not exactly easy to blend in in a world whose wellbeing depends on your greatness and ability. there’s a great sense of pride in coming from a long lines of heroes, and his parents were much less than thrilled to receive the phone call that tenya was in the hospital following the incident that rendered his arm “useless”. they weren’t happy to see that he chose to leave his arm that way as a reminder of his dedication.

when they figured he was out of earshot, they asked questions.

did the doctors check for any mental ailments?

will he ever be able to use his arm again?

why didn’t they amputate?

what kind of hero accepts a physical wound and doesn’t try to heal?

what kind of hero goes after a villain on their own?

are you sure he’s cut out to be a hero?

tenya isn’t proud of the publicity his family got following the incident including a certain self-proclaimed hero killer. he isn’t proud of the wary stares he gets from his classmates. he isn’t proud of the violence he’s been forced to commit. he isn’t proud of any of it, really, but he doesn’t regret his actions; not for a second, not even when he’s painstakingly rubbing scar balm into his shoulder, hoping that at least the scars would fade.

the pain, which seeped deep into his muscles and pricked at his bones, was more than just a cosmetic concern. he couldn’t care less about a scar, but with his limited movement capabilities, he knew he’d never be able to teach his sons to throw. the doctors didn’t have to tell him that. but, of course, they did. he knew what it all meant. he saw through their sugarcoating and attempts at softening the blow. they should’ve known better.

although he’s now your tenya, he was a hero first.

before there was you, there was responsibility. before there was love and devotion, there were hero duties and combat instincts. they’re ingrained into his mind, refusing to be ignored. even when things seem fine, he can’t help but make sure. he couldn’t live with himself if his laziness were to cause someone else’s pain. that isn’t what heroes do. when you’re in public, he’s constantly scanning the room and won’t sit with his back to a door or window, because he needs to be able to see who’s coming and going. he has to make sure that everything is fine. he has to make sure everyone is safe, and everything is put-together.

he has to be strong, because there are thousands of people counting on him. he has to be strong, because evil doesn’t rest. he has to be strong, because... if not him, then who?

the day of your anniversary, you texted tenya while he was at work.

you: i hope you have a great day, my love! i can’t wait until you get home so we can celebrate! <3!!

tenya: I can’t wait either! I love you very much, sweetheart. See you later.

he came home with his arms full of the bouquet of flowers, and almost teared up at the sight of the dinner you had set up for the two of you. you always considered every worry, every caution, every gut feeling of his, and he appreciated that more than he’d ever be able to express. no words did it justice.

you’re more than his other half, you’re his everything. you’re everything he needs, everything he can’t be, and more.

you surprised him with an at-home dinner date, where it was perfectly safe and calm, and there were no people hiding in the shadows. music softly played in the background, and the daisies looked perfect on the table.

it’s okay, tenya, you reminded him. you’re home now.

yellow is tenya’s birthday present, or the envelope holding it at least.

there are only so many thoughtful gifts you can give before the inspiration simply runs out, and you have to go bigger. you have to look forward, and think of what will really leave a mark on someone’s life. you only have so many chances to get it right.

one year, for his birthday, you got him the deed to a recently-discovered star and named it after him. a star for your star. your guide in the dark. your light in unimaginable darkness. your ever-present warmth.

many years later, when tenya is long gone, his star sparkles a little brighter.

through the telescope, he seems to be waving hello.

golden yellow is the promise ring that you have no idea how tenya afforded.

you insist he take it back and that neither of you are ready for the commitment, but he refuses, of course.he’s never been more ready for something in his life. he tells you,

“i got it for you because you’re worth it.

every day with you is worth it.

i never want to spent another day of my life without promising to love you every second of every day.

every time you wear this ring, you’ll be reminded of how much i love you.

i saved for months, anticipating this very moment when i’d get to promise myself to you forever.

i promise, you deserve it.

you deserve everything, and i can’t wait to give it to you.”

and you did deserve it. and you deserve him, in all of his glory. forever.

the harsh bruises littering his chiseled body are yellow at first. they turn purple, eventually, before they fade away completely. their sting, however, is more than just the pain of broken blood vessels. they’re a concrete reminder that tenya isn’t untouchable. he isn’t invincible. he’s human, and he bleeds red.

the bruises come when his instincts send him in the wrong direction, when he dodged too late, or when he couldn’t seem to land a kick. he tells you that they’re from when he “tripped going down the stairs” or when izuku “accidentally punched him too hard during a training session.” (lies.)

yellow is the embarrassment you feel when you confront izuku, pleading with him to be more careful with tenya, and he tells you that he couldn’t have possibly caused those bruises, because hasn’t seen iida outside of class in weeks. nobody has. he’s been training more than usual, and hasn’t been at group dinners.

yellow is the sickness and guilt you feel at the realization, because you recently teased iida for not getting his homework done. he smiled weakly, pretending like it was just a foolish slip-up. it was so unlike him, you couldn’t help but poke a little fun.

“ooooh!!! class representative iida tenya, professional stick in the mud, didnt complete his populations analysis essay on time??? somebody call the news outlets!!! or an ambulance, because i think i might die from shock!!!”

he couldn’t blame you for your ignorance, because he liked that you didn’t know. you didn’t know how tired he was. you didn’t know how hard he was pushing himself. you didn’t know how hard he was working. you didn’t know how close he was to breaking. nobody did, and he liked it that way. nobody wants to see their leader falter, or hesitate, or fail, so he didn’t let them.

while he didn’t like to make you wait, he especially didn’t like to make you worry, and he figured the best way to do that was to keep it all in. he was supposed to be an upstanding hero, worthy of admiration and inspiring greatness in all, but at the end of the day, your opinion of him mattered the most.

in his mind, he was supposed to be your hero. and he tried, with every fiber of his being, to be your everything.

he was supposed to keep you safe, not keep you up at night, wondering if this morning was the last time you’d get to kiss him goodbye. he’s supposed to come home to you, and he promised, even though he couldn’t be sure, that he would. he didn’t want to lie about that.

his lies are yellow. they’re made with hope of protecting you, with keeping you safe from the evil swirling through the world.

what you don’t know can’t hurt you, right?

...right?

they’re made with intentions filled with sunshine and his golden gaze when you’re supposed to be studying, but the temptation is too strong.

his intentions are filled with the colored pencils scattered on the floor of his dorm room from when you sketched each other for the first time.

they’re filled with honey coated love, first sweet and satisfying, but eventually leaving you with a sore throat. they leave you feeling his love, but also his lies.

and through it all, you still love him, maybe even to a fault.

even when he’s yellow.

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

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Eyes, Lips, Face

Word Count: 2,322

When you get thrown into a different world, you kinda forget to mention that the wig and contacts you're wearing are not your natural color, or that you're cosplaying their knightly order because this is actually a video game and shouldn't be real. But at least you get to share makeup with your new-found buddies.

I tried to keep this fic as reader/gender-neutral as possible. Ty to @alexaplaysgames for giving me pointers! Ya'll should check out their fics ;)

---

I let out a stretch as Anisa walks back into her office, carrying more than enough blankets for my one person. I spy Felix swatting Sage’s hands away from ruffling his hair as they walk out the door to find sleeping accommodations. What a wild day. I never really wore a costume that required more physical activity other than walking around a convention for a few hours. I never intended to get into a bar fight while wearing a wig, contacts, and a decked-out costume I spent months on. Then again I never intended to be transported into the world of my favorite video game...

“Here are some blankets to keep you warm,” Anisa plants the blankets on the couch that would be my bed for tonight. I sigh with exhaustion at the thought of falling asleep, I heard Felix and Sage still echoing in the halls as they left. I thanked Anisa for the hundredth time that day and she left me alone to sleep. Alone yes. I yawn, taking in the room. At least there's a fire going, I wouldn’t be able to see without it. And thank god my backpack made the trip with me I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn't have somewhere to put my cosplay supplies. I reach into my bag and pull out a contact lens case. I thought it would be cool if my eyes had a more alluring color for this costume, hoping the color of the embroidery on my costume would be brought out because of them. Carefully removing my contacts I placed them into their case and tossed them back into my bag. I then reached up and unpinned the seemingly endless amount of hairpins I placed in this wig so it would stay put. It stayed in place in the Saucy Gull so I must’ve done something right. I remove my wig and wince a little when I realize it’s just going to become tangled in my backpack. Oh well, what can you do? After removing my wig caps and giving my scalp a much-needed massage from being confined all day, I go to remove parts of my costume. Thankfully the base of my costume is comfortable and inconspicuous enough to not draw attention to the fact that I'm an outsider. I keep my costumed cloak out, in case I get cold. I do wish I had better shoes however, $20 Amazon boots probably won't last out here.

After removing said shoes I plop down into the couch and pull some makeup wipes from my backpack. I never go without these, and I am especially glad to have them after the day I had. I remove my makeup, allowing the cool damp cloth to soothe my tired face. I’ve been running around all day, going through portals, being told I have a magical relic inside me, being flirted with by a cat boy. What I wouldn’t give for a year-long nap, or maybe just some coffee. After cleaning my face and putting my items away I take one look in my compact mirror, yup just my plain old self. Tossing the mirror away I get comfortable and lull into a dreamless sleep.

—-

I can feel the bitter cold outside the warmth of my many blankets, stirring a little I snuggle into them, nuzzling my face in the fabric to warm my cold nose. I’m half awake but can’t be bothered to open my eyes. Five more minutes. But then I hear... whispering?

“Oh my god, they moved,” Anisa’s voice.

“Relax Annie; if something happens, I can banish it,” Felix, sounds slightly shaken while trying to put on a brave front. Wait did he say banish. I decide that I’m now too awake to fall back asleep. I sit up, eyes blurry from sleep, and look at the two indistinct figures who I am assuming are Felix and Anisa.

“Good morn-” Suddenly I hear the sound of Anisa’s sword come unsheathed, and, I think, it’s pointing at me, for the second time. I blink trying to will my eyes to adjust, then rubbing them to reveal that Anisa is definitely pointing her sword at me, with Felix behind her, arms up in defense.

“A-Anisa, what are you doing?” It's too early for this, my voice is scraggly from sleep.

“What are you some kind of Changeling? Poor job imitating in my opinion, MC doesn't even look like that!” Felix states approaching me, a flurry of green flames forming in his palms. Oh shit.

“What? It's me!” I raise my hands in defense. I clear my throat trying to sound convincing. I’ve barely been here for 24 hours and I have been in more life-threatening situations than my entire life combined.

“Then how do you explain your changed appearance?” Anisa says accusingly. Changed appearance? Oh!

“I was wearing cosplay! You don't think I actually looked like that do you?” I lower my arms slightly, laughing awkwardly. I know Sage has weird eyes and hair but why would someone from Earth look like an anime character? Both faces before me twist in confusion.

“Cosplay?” They question in unison. I nod reaching for my backpack slowly. Anisa flicks her sword and I pull away.

“I-if you look in my bag there's a wig and contacts, and other stuff. I was wearing a costume and I thought it would be more fun if I didn’t look like myself,” I point to my backpack. Anisa nods at Felix who approaches my backpack, kneeling down to open it. He pulls out my surprisingly untangled wig, and yelps dropping it in my lap. I lift to wig onto my head poorly fitting it.

“See?” I then remove the wig and place it in my lap. Anisa's eyes go wide, she sheaths her sword and approaches me.

“Oh MC! I am terribly sorry!” She shoots Felix a look who flinches. “Felix had me convinced woodland creates replaced you with a clone,” she turns her attention back to me and Felix blushes with embarrassment.

“Clone?” I question. Felix stands.

“N-no matter, we both apologize for waking you with such an unsettling greeting,” I nod in response. I unwrap myself from my blankets and run a hand through my hair trying to look a little more presentable. Letting out a sigh, as I put the wig back in my bag.

"I-it's alright, I guess I should have said something earlier," I shrug innocently. Anisa looks down at my bag and then back at me.

"Do many people on Earth change their appearance like this?" Anisa looks at me, eager for information.

"Um not usually, well I guess it depends. I just did it for my costume, I thought it would look more interesting," I shrug.

"You said you were wearing a costume? Then why dress as a Starsworn knight?" Anisa questions. I am about to answer her but I hesitate. How am I supposed to explain that on Earth none of this is real? That this is a video game?

"Uhhhhm," is all I can muster to say but my train of thought is interrupted.

"Gods Anisa! Why did you insist on us being here so dammed early in the mor-“ they stop in the doorway. “Who is that?" It's Sage. He burst into the room without even so much as a knock.

"It's MC, apparently they were wearing a wig and other cosmetic adornments to alter their appearance," Felix chimes in. I suddenly feel insecure about how plain I look. At least Felix looks somewhat normal, well from the neck up. I just wave awkwardly in response.

"But I could've sworn their eyes were a different color, and why do they look so tired did they not get enough sleep?" Sage walks over leaning over the back of the couch. I cringe at his comments.

"No, I was wearing a costume, so naturally I wanted to look less... Natural," I attempt to explain. Who knew cosplay was such a foreign concept here.

"Why were you wearing a costume?" Sage squints at me. Oh god this question again, but just like last time, I am interrupted.

“Ouch! Hells,” I look over to see Felix with his finger in his mouth. He takes it out to speak. “Why do you have needles in your bag?”

“Oh! Sewing needles,” I reach into the bag and pull out a container of needles and the spare thread. “I uh, I packed these in case a bit of my costume came undone, sorry Felix,” a thought then occurs to me. “Why were you rummaging through my bag?” Felix suddenly flushes and avoids the eyes of everyone in the room.

"I um, was merely curious about your items," I decide to brush it off as I put my "items" back, I would probably want to examine inter-dimensional foreign objects as well.

“Snooping through MC's bag aye Felix? What were you tryna find?” Sage’s eyebrows waggle.

“Nothing! Nothing in particular I just… saw something that looked interesting,” Felix looks like he's pouting now, to save his dignity I ignore it. I reach into my bag and pull out the even smaller bag full of makeup. I don’t have much with me, just the ones I used for my cosplay in case I needed a touch-up.

“Was it this?” I hold up the clear plastic sachet. Felix nods in response. “This is just some makeup,” I open the bag and pull out a compact blush and hand it to Felix, then I pull out two eyeshadow palettes and hand them to Anisa and Sage, who has now joined me on the couch. Felix and Anisa sit on the floor and observe the items I handed to them. Felix opens the compact and eyes it curious, he runs a finger along the powder and rubs it between his fingers inspecting it. Anisa knocks on the closed eyeshadow palette.

“What is this material? And why have they spelled “elf” so terribly wrong?” She almost looks insulted. I hold back my laugh.

“It’s plastic, lots of stuff on Earth is made from it. It's cheaper than metal and sturdier than cardboard or wood,” I decide to not bring up how problematic plastic can be, no need to bring up the fact that the Earth is slowly dying.

“Sage that looks terrible,” Felix remarks. I look over to Sage who has rubbed bright blue eyeshadow all over his eyelids. Oh, that is SO not his color. I reach into the bag and pull out a brush.

“May I?” I ask, Sage looks at me suspiciously and nods. “Close your eyes,” I run the brush over his eyelids and blend the color out a little more, it’s difficult with all of his squintings but I manage to finish. Pulling back, I hand Sage a mirror.

“Oh… I look terrible in blue!” Sage laughs. But he continues to admire himself in the mirror. Anisa laughs as she watches Sage tilt his face in the mirror staring at himself. From the corner of my eye I catch Felix looking at me, I turn to him and he has an almost, hopeful look in his eyes.

“Do you want me to do your makeup?” I ask, as innocently as possible. Felix flushes and looks away.

“I-if you insist,” he mumbles out. I chuckle and slide off the couch to sit in front of Felix, I grab a large brush and the compact from his hand.

“Do you mind if I?” I hold my other hand close to Felix’s face, his eyes go wide as he nods slowly. I grab his chin gently and apply blush to his face. It's hard to tell just how much I am putting on considering Felix’s face is about as hot as a fried egg on asphalt, but I make do with what I got. I finally finish and pull back.

“Oh, Felix you look adorable!” Anisa chimes in with a laugh.

“You look like a baby,” Sage teases. Felix snatches the mirror from him, grumbling, and inspects his face, his eyebrows are furrowed.

“I think I look like I've had too many drinks, why is it on my nose?” He looks up at me, I half-shrug.

“That’s what's popular on Earth,” I try not to tease too hard, but Felix really does look much younger with his cheeks pink and rosy. Anisa taps my arm, I guess she wants a turn. I give her a nod and allow her to pick a color she likes. She chooses a nice purple and I apply it on her lids as well. She sits perfectly stoic and still allowing me to apply it gently. Once I finish with her I hand her the mirror and she smiles brightly.

“Oh thank you, MC! I say you did a very fine job,” she gives me a nod and goes back to admiring her eyes.

For a good few hours we end up swatching a lot of the makeup, Sage proceeds to put on the absolute worst colors for his complexion, yellows, oranges, and greens which I didn’t even know I had. Felix keeps his blush on for longer than I thought he would. Anisa asks to do my makeup and she does a surprisingly good job at blending. Eventually, everyone has to go back to business and I hand out makeup wipes to each of them. Anisa is a little amazed at how they work. Sage decides to keep his disgustingly green shade on much to our dismay. Felix cleans off his face carefully but his real blush remains for a while. Everyone eventually leaves me to actually get myself ready for the day. It’s when I'm folding my blankets up that I realize.

I just did the makeup for characters in my favorite video game franchise, this really feels like a fever dream. I laugh to myself, I will remember this day fondly.

#fictif last legacy #fictif #fictif fic #fictif anisa #fictif felix #fictif sage #crow writes

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thatonesadending · 3 years

Text

Power of Words - Chapters 5

Molly is overwhelmed with how much has changed, including his body. Caleb helps him feel a bit more normal.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31056542

It could have been minutes, or hours, that Molly sobbed into Caleb’s neck. He didn't have a grip on time, let alone his current reality, so he let himself cry until his voice was hoarse, and his cheeks tight with dried tears. He wasn't sure when he had sunk to the floor, but Caleb had gone with him, holding him close, cradling Molly in his arms as he sobbed his way to exhaustion.

It wasn't that Molly was sad or unhappy really, but he was experiencing a sort of onslaught of grief of his own death. Of all the adventures he missed, the moments he didn’t get to share. Complicating it was that he knew that his friends, people he had grown to love over an impossibly short time, now had images of him hurting them that he didn’t have. Why else had they been scared of him, wary of his return?

And then there was the issue of him. This body. The coat had helped ground him, but it only lasted a short while. Every reflection in the glass that he caught, every flinch when he approached one of the Nien too fast, every time he looked at his own hands and saw the missing rings and golden caps on his fingers … It reminded him of the fact that he had been lost, and someone else had been piloting this body.

The mixture of all the upsetting feelings, with the beauty of all the ways he had been remembered - preserved - created chaos of spilling out feelings that he couldn't help but let out in embarrassing sobs. The only thing that was coxing him back was Caleb’s hand, drawing circles on his back, humming some lullaby he faintly recognized.

There had been a time before, when he had come out empty and hollow from the grave he had been left in, that the only way Yasha had been able to calm him was to sing him a song meant for the Gods. A prayer pressed to melody. Caleb was humming it now, while rubbing his back. When he was able to steady his breathing enough, Molly managed to ask him about the song.

“How do - did Yasha give you the song?” His voice was still quiet, more of a whisper, but the ever preceptive Caleb still heard him.

“Yes, she shared it with me on a particularly hard night, seeing as we both can speak celestial.”

Molly had never thought to ask what language the song had been in, so many languages and things had been forign to him at the time. It didn't surprise him that Caleb had memorized it. He wanted to thank Caleb again, but it wouldn’t have conveyed how actually grateful he was. He stayed there for a few more moments, his cheek pressed to the man's chest, horn resting on his shoulder, and his tail wrapped tightly against his waist. It was only until he felt the ache of tiredness in his own bones, and remembered who he was holding on to, that he let go.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“It is alright Mollymauk, I only care that you are okay.”

Caleb didn't let Molly get very far in his self-conscious retreat, clasping him at the elbows and looking him firmly in the eyes. Molly wasn’t okay, but he also wasn’t not. He was caught in between glee at being alive again, and horror that someone else had been living for him in the meantime. And then there was that unspoken dread, the one that he was constantly trying not to think of, because what if Lucien ….

“It is alright to need time. I will do everything in my power to give you all the time you need to be okay.” Caleb’s words were like an incoming tide, slowly washing away at the edges of Molly’s worries.

“I am n- it’s just that…” He struggled find the words to try to express how he was feeling everything too much right now, and he really wanted to feel just like himself. Caleb stayed silent and just waited until Molly could compose himself to try again. “It’s a lot. The whole dying, being possessed by your former self - well a sad sack of a soul that was not me- and then living again to-” Molly gestered the gorgeous window and room that surrounded them. “-and still feel, I don't know, like I am not really here. Like I haven't earned the right to it.” Molly hadn’t really understood the weight of his emotions until he spoke aloud, and then he felt his eyes threatened to spill again. But of course, Caleb came to his rescue once more.

“Ah, I think I understand. I believe I can help, if that is alright?”

How Caleb could do anything more for him was beyond imaginable. He had already brought Molly back from his unconscious prison and a chance of life, given him a not only decadent room but one that represented his life, and most of all - Caleb had offered Molly an incredibly close embrace when he needed to cry out the most. Still, he chose to follow the human when they disentangled, and he had been led to the gorgeous red vanity he had admired before.

Caleb pulled out the overstuffed stool, and motioned for him to sit. He did so, admittedly a tad cautiously, since he didn't know what Caleb wanted from him. Nervous hands pulled out the top long drawer, but Molly couldnt take his eyes away from Caleb’s face, trying to see why the man was suddenly shy. He was used to Caleb being reserved, self-deprecating, humble to a fault, that was until he came back, and he found himself with a wizard that was more self assured and hopeful.

“My memory is not perfect, close, but - um - some things can be misremember, so if you would like any changes or if I got anything wrong …”

He looked down at the drawer as Caleb spoke. It was lined in a lavender velvet that almost perfectly matched his skin. Inside was every single piece of jewelry that he was currently missing, the outlandish bits of glitter and gold that Molly had used to set himself apart. From his earrings, the chains that had been in his horns, to the cuffs he had worn around his tail.

“I am not sure which set you would like. I tried to capture each I could remember.” Caleb was being far too modest. There laid perfect versions of every variation of his jewelry from when they had met in Trostenwald to when they left Hupperdook.

“The last ones.” His voice was still rough from crying, but Caleb ignored it and started to lift the various pieces from its place. Molly had wanted to say ‘Oh the ones that I was wearing when I died.’, but he didn't. He didn't want to taint why these were his favorite. How he had eavesdropped on Jester trying to convince Yasha to tell her which one he would like more, the horn cuff with matching jade studs, or the crescent at the end of a teardrop earring that had a chain that would connect at the top of his ear. While Yasha had tried to convince her money would be better spent elsewhere, Molly could remember Nott sneaking up and simply pocketing both sets. She later presented them to Molly in front of the other women. “That shop was horrible, nothing worth taking, but they wouldn’t leave … so here.” He knew she hadnt meant it, that she was actually offering friendship, not earrings. He took and cherished them all the same.

Caleb was gentle, fastening the earrings with care, being impossibly soft with his horns while he placed the jewelry. Molly didn't say a word, Caleb knew where every bit went. He hadn’t meant to screw his eyes shut, but it was the only way to prevent more tears, those of anxiety, from falling. It wasn't until he felt a thumb slowly pressing gentle circles at the base of his horns, that he was able to blink his eyes open again. Caleb was kneeling in front of where he sat, hands still massaging this temple.

“Would you like to look?” he asked. Molly nodded, though only after a moment. Caleb pulled out a hand mirror, as though he knew that he couldn't turn to look at himself in the large one hanging above the vanity quiet yet. He took the matching ornate mirror and looked at just his horns, then to his ears, and then to his face. His horns and ears were familiar, grounding him in the memories that he felt were just yesterday. They gave him considerable relief compared to the reflections he had caught earlier, that looked nothing like him, but that of Lucien.

It was when he got to his actual face, did he feel the weight of sorrow again. It was still him, of course, but his hair was long and the curls greasy were uncared for. His lips were wind chapped and cracking. The hallows of his cheeks were more pronounced. It was only then that Molly realized how much weight he had lost, his already slender frame now reduced to just what was necessary. It was obvious that Lucien had not cared for his body, not with good food or consideration for its frame.

Molly tried not to let the disappointment show, because the jewelry really had help, and he appreciated Caleb’s sweetness, but there was still a part of him that was missing, hollow. Try as he might, Caleb apparently had the gods on his side.

“Not enough, ja? That is alright, give me just another moment.”

Molly didn't know how this man knew what was going on in his head, especially when he had only spoken a half a dozen or so sentences since entering this magical room. All the same, Caleb rose from his knees and crossed the room where a thick silk rope hung, and pulled on it twice. He couldn't hear what the other man said, but it was brief, and then Caleb was back his side, opening drawers again.

“I will admit, I do not know your preferences, but these are the cosmetics that Jester prefered, I only altered them to what I thought you might have enjoyed.” Molly chose to ignore the past tense, especially when Caleb pulled out several different vials of hydrating oils, scented balms for blisters, and …. A beautiful array of gold tinted make-up.

“God’s, Caleb! How much did you spend on this?!” Molly couldn’t help admonish while admiring a glistening jar of lavender body oil.

“Nothing but my imagination.” Caleb supplied, as though it was the most natural answer in the world. Catching Molly’s confusion, he continued. “This is actually a demiplane, it only lasts for 24 hours, and you can not take out what you did not bring in other than what you consume.” Caleb looked apologetic, as though that wasn’t work that only Gods should be able to do. “So while you may wear anything you want while you are here, unfortunately if it is made of magic, it won't survive outside of the tower’s walls.” Molly didn’t care, it was grateful just the same for what Caleb was giving him. The wizard handed him a balm for his lips, and opened another drawer and pulled out a delicate-looking comb.

“There is a bath on the other side of the dresser, if you have the energy for that. I am sure Jester would be willing to cut your hair, if you would like. But how about I comb it out first, and you can decide if you want that later?” Caleb’s offer warmed him, so he nodded and let the man comb through the knots of his hair, while Molly took advantage of the balms and lotion. They worked in comfortable silence for several moments. Caleb was careful and calm, relaxing Molly enough that he felt is eyes fall closed again, but this time to just sit and feel the small touches of fingers on his scalp and running through his hair. It wasn’t until he felt a small tap, that he looked and saw a cat he’d never met, somehow holding a bowl of fruits and bread and a large glass of water.

“Ah yes. Thank you.” Caleb took the bowl and set it on the table next to Molly. “If you are hungry. But please, drink this.” The glass of water was pressed into his hands, and Molly readily gulped most of it down. “If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask. The cats will bring you what you need.” How that was possible, was beyond him. But he had also been bitten by a wessel that was also apparently a god, so anything could be possible then.

Molly took a few of the grapes, and let himself relax again as Caleb finished with his hair.

“I am done. Does that feel better?” Caleb asked, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to look again. He did anyways, in the larger mirror on the wall, and was pleasantly surprised. His skin was still a bit pale, but no longer ashy with lack of moisture. He did even mind the longer hair, now that Caleb had worked out the tangles, the longer curls falling past his shoulders. He wondered if Yasha would braid it around his horns. His lips even looked more like his, smoothed and shining from the balm. He pressed his fingers to them and hummed a please affirmative to Caleb.

“Good, would you like me to call fetch Yasha for you?”

Yes. He missed her terribly, it felt like it was just yesterday that he had been terrified about how she was because she had been taken from him by slavers. But he still wasn’t quite ready to confront that.

“In a bit, stay with me?” Molly couldn’t read Caleb’s expression, it was a mixture of surprise and warmth. He didn’t say anything, but followed him to sit on the edge of the ridiculous bed. Caleb seemed to be looking to Molly for clues of what to do, so Molly sat close and rested his cheek on the wizard's shoulder. When he didn't flinch, or stiffen like Molly would have expected, he took it as a sign that this was ok. His tail wrapped lazily around Caleb’s ankle, and he drew little patterns on Molly’s knee. They stayed like that for only gods know how long, in comfortable silence, letting the tiefling clear out his mind from all the clutter and noise the day brought. He was beginning to feel like he could maybe, possibly, start process the day’s emotions.

#critical role #mollymauk #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #caleb widogast #cr2 #Molly lives

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writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

rapp-ed around your heart (05)

word count; 10,584

summary; mitch finally gives you the last parts of him, deciding that he definitely has nothing left to lose, or hide, when it comes to being honest and true with you.

notes; in this part, we deal with a tiny little issue that comes up, as well as some cute moments with them getting closer and dealing with some stuff.

warnings; hints as smut, and there’s the tiniest bit of angst.

The Midwest

Surprisingly, it was in a little ice cream shop at Mount Rushmore that Mitch truly opened up to you. The two of you spent the day wandering around the trails and looking at the carvings in the mountains, taking a lot of photos and simply soaking up the warmth of the sun, before settling to try the ‘historic’ ice cream.

You were sharing a picnic bench, the fingers of one hand being played with by his own as it sat on the table, and you lapped at melting droplets of mint ice cream as he nursed his own cone of rocky-road. The cold and sweet treat was not something new to the two of you, you’d shared ice cream before too, but then he’d opened up about it. Something switched within him, and he spilt to you about how his mother used to give him a bowlful of the frosty treat as a reward every time he completed all of his homework when he was finished, and so it had become like a reward. Before this trip, he hadn't eaten ice cream in years, trying to stick to his healthy diet and workout routine, feeling guilty when he broke away from it, and feeling like he didn’t deserve such luxuries.

That same confession had led to more, a heartfelt confession following you for the rest of the day as he told you everything he could think of, finally letting you not only past his walls but right into his heart and soul. The ‘Carver’s Marketplace’ had been where you stopped for dinner, the situation lightening up as you moved on to easier topics, chatting and joking around. A nap in the leftover heat of the day had been more than enough to see you through the drive to Minnesota, the dark hours carrying you through until you were arriving with the nighttime stars, hanging overhead in the low lights and twinkling enthusiastically overhead.

It had been a joint call to splurge on another hotel, giggling kisses and hidden yawns as you waited in the elevator to get upstairs. He’d been ready before you had, and was half-asleep on the bed, spread out like a starfish under the covers as he waited for you on the queen-sized frame, and you’d crawled underneath to join him. In his haze, he had wrapped you up tightly in his arms, pulling you into his chest and tucking his chin atop your head, before letting out a soft sigh.

That was exactly how you’d found yourself now, warm light filtering into the room to wake you up. Arms were still tightly wrapped around you, a bare chest under your cheek as you nuzzled further into him, a deep and raspy laugh rumbling from his chest as he realised you were awake too, and he squeezed you a little tighter. It was surreal, golden light flecks dancing throughout the room and off of the covers illuminating you both in a cloud of delicate light that left gentle shadows across the sheets when you lifted your hand to block the rays from your eyes when you cracked them open.

“Good morning.” You huffed, the words contradicting the tone of your voice as you grumbled at the sun in your eyes, twisting your head to face the opposite way, using that hand to rub at your eyes. It was no use, you weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep now, and as you became a little more aware of your surroundings, the urge to move became overwhelming. That comfortable warmth was now stifling, and as much as you loved being wrapped up this mans arm’s you needed your freedom, and so you rolled to the side, stretching your arms up and over your head, letting out a happy sound when your muscles eased of their tension and your joints cracked as they loosened up. “Where are we again?”

“Uh, a hotel. I think.”

You scoffed rolling onto your side to face the man, lips pulling up a little in a smile as he lay there, on his side facing you but with his eyes closed, snoozing lightly as light puffs of air left his lips. “I meant where in the country.” You sat up some more, shaking your head clear as you folded your legs to sit crossed on the mattress, and he shuffled, lifting his pillow to rest in your lap as he moved, body curling so that he could adjust, and you chuckled, dropping a hand down to run through his hair.

“Near a lake. Big one.”

“It’s Minnesota, right? God, I’m losing track of where we even are at this point.” You let out yet another yawn, before slowing your movements through the man’s hair, and he let out a whine of protest when you did, legs shuffling a little under the covers. “We should go out on the lake. It’s a nice day.”

“Or we could stay in bed all day.” He offered, reaching one hand up to pull your own back down to his hair, and you took the hint, deciding to give in and play with the strands a little longer.

“We’re on a road trip, we can stay in bed all day any other time, we have to make the most of it.”

He did look up now, a cheeky grin on his face as he moved to sit up, enough to that he was kneeling before you on the mattress, and he was taking both of your cheeks into his hands as he squinted into the morning light. One side of his face was little red, a crumple left in his skin from a fold in the pillowcase, imprinted under his eye, and messy hair from the way that it had fallen, but he still looked absolutely perfect to you. “So, what you’re saying is that there will be more mornings like this in the future?”

You shrugged, feeling him nod his head encouragingly as he leaned in, stealing a quick kiss from your lips, before pulling away, letting out a contented little sigh as he seemed to wake up a bit more. “

“Fine, lake it is, I’m cool with that.” His nose dragged over yours, before he was standing up from the bed, wobbling a little on unprepared and tired legs, before shaking himself down and stretching out. “Let me shower first. I’ll be ready in thirty minutes, tops.”

You simply waved him off with a smile and a roll of your eyes, not missing the cheeky wink that he awarded you as he closed the bathroom door.

You lay there for a few more minutes, enjoying the leftover warmth of your bodies from under the covers a little longer, before you forced yourself to up and roll from the bed. You straightened out the sheets, because despite knowing that you wouldn't be getting back into them tonight, you still thought it polite to straighten them up for the housekeeping team that would be in to strip and redress the bed for whoever was next. You did some scrolling on your phone and made some bookings for a boat tour in the later afternoon, and picked out your outfit. Simple was your theme today, laziness taking over as more eagerness to simply get out and on with the day took over, and you found yourself staring up at the clock as it ticked over into thirty minutes, a groan falling from your lips.

It was a second later when it opened up, and you perked up from where you were crumpling the freshly straightened sheets, head peeking up from where it had been dangling over the mattress as he emerged from the steam, brows furrowing but a smirk finding his lips as he looked at you hanging upside down.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know, just hanging out.” You mumbled, letting out a dramatic sound as you heaved yourself up into a sitting position, and soon made your way into the bathroom to be able to wash your face and clean your teeth.

He joined you at the sink, nudging you to the side as he found his own toothbrush, a cheeky look in his eyes as they found yours in the reflection of the mirror, a spot you’d cleared from the fog on the glass, and you rolled your eyes despite your smile, letting your eyes scan over him instead. Black skinny jeans that did more for his thighs than you’d care to admit to him and heighten his ego further, and a forest green t-shirt on his arms, stretched a little across his shoulders, and you tore your gaze from him to spit into the sink, ignoring the muffled chuckle that rang out as he clearly caught you staring.

Washing off the brush, you tapped the loose water from it, before tucking it back into your cosmetics bag, and the fingers of one hand found your cheek. Guiding your mouth up to his, he tugged the brush from between his lips just before his mouth met your own, a soft and chaste kiss, but you smiled nonetheless, licking the taste of mint from your lips as his thumb moved underneath them to clear away excess foam, before he was letting you go.

The previous late-night had led to sleeping in, skipping breakfast entirely and deciding to wander and sightsee until you found somewhere that you liked the look of to stop for your lunch. You walked hand in hand along the Duluth lakefront water walk, watching as boats raced around the water, knowing that it wasn’t long until that would be you.

It was sweet, chatting about everything that came to mind, and yet when he passed a simple comment about how far around the country the two of you had come, you couldn't help but get stuck back on it. You were so close to making a full-circle loop, but with every destination that you passed, it was another place closer to bringing you home. Mitch on the road - now that you’d managed to muscle past his tall defences - was a completely different person to the one who’d climbed into your car on that first day. The working version of the man you’d come to know was completely different, he was stressed and angry and had a lot going on that made him fearful and locked away, and you weren’t sure if that version of him would still want you around.

You also couldn't shake the feeling that as you closed in on the beginning of your trip once again, that he was finished, having been on the road for almost a month and a half now, and you would understand if he wanted to go home, and miss the last stops you had planned for yourself, but deep down, you were selfish enough to admit that you didn’t want him to.

Your spiral of doubts was cut short when he’d presented you with a little restaurant with outside tables, not too far of a walk away from where you needed to be for your lake tour, and it was perfect for grabbing some lunch, so you forced back your thoughts to haunt you at another time, in favour for making space to acknowledge your hunger.

After filling yourselves at the little street joint, you barely made it back in time for your boat, wobbling in your steps as you tried to board it, but you had made it eventually, and you were curled up in your seat as the two of you were taken around the edges of the lake, seeing everything from the East Channel lighthouse to the Grand Island caves, rock structures and picturesque settings atop clear blue water being perfect to take photos and make memories you’d never forget, your reflection offered back to you with perfect clearness among the ripples when you snook a look over the edge and into the water. The Spray waterfalls were serene and pretty, as were each of the little beaches and shores that you passed by, even stopping at one for long enough to slip off your shoes and dig your toes into soft sand and feel the water lapping at your feet, before you’d been back on your way.

It was a kind of sightseeing that allowed you to get a beautiful experience without having to drive or walk yourselves, a welcome change, and you took it all in by cuddling up close to Mitch, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder and the other with your hands linked and sitting in his lap, the occasional small kiss or drag of his nose over your temple to reassure you that he was still there, and loving it all just as much as you were.

Once the cool of the evening rocked around, you spent the night driving up to Minneapolis, the real location in which you were passing through Minnesota for. That night, you were curled up in the back of the car again, the place that had so rapidly become your home, and you were beginning to feel that you’d miss the cramped but cosy little space once you got home, your bedroom would feel like that of a palace as you gained all of the space back, and you just hoped not too many spiders had moved in with your absence.

“‘m fuckin’ sleeping.” He muttered, and you giggled into his skin, pausing from where you’d been trailing kisses up and along his jaw, waking him up once the light of the morning had begun to seep into the car and disturb you from your slumber. You hummed in agreement, muttering out a cheery ‘okay’, before pulling back, and he groaned once again, tipping his face towards you and scowling without even opening his eyes. “I didn’t say stop.”

“I already have now, it’s too late.” He huffed out at that, his entire face becoming even more dismal, and you ignored his whines, busying yourself with sitting up properly, and searching around for your phone, tracing the charging wire to find the device down the back of a chair, and he gave in, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes to clear away any traces of sleep, before he was sitting up a little more himself head and shoulders propped up by freshly fluffed pillows.

“Fine. I’m awake. What do you want?”

Well, well, someone is moody this morning.” You mumbled, looking down at your phone, and he reached a hand out, squeezing the bare skin of your thigh, fingertips digging into your muscle, before his head was leaning on your shoulder, a loud yawning sounding out.

“Can’t blame me. You tease me with kisses and then refuse to give me anymore.”

“You didn’t ask for more, did you?”

He twisted his head, pressing his lips to your cheek before stretching out, the sound of joints popping filling the small space as he awakened a little more. “That’s all it takes, then?”

“Ask, and ye shall receive.” You were a little distracted now, scrolling through your notifications, and two fingers redirected your face towards him, his lips already a little puckered as his own eyes were staring at yours as you nibbled on your lower lip. Leaning in, you dropped down your phone, hands finding his cheeks and you held onto him carefully, and you felt the soft sigh he let out in return as your lips worked together slowly. “See? Just like that.”

“You’re cute.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke the words, before he was pulling away, eyes travelling shamelessly along your body, and he grinned lopsidedly at the sight of you in one of the shirts you’d stolen from him, bringing up a finger to tug at the neckline. “Wearing my clothes already, huh? Awfully domestic of you.”

“I'm surprised you even know the word domestic.” You scoffed, and he flicked at your nose as retaliation, chuckling at the sound you let out in protest, but he then picked up the phone, holding it back out for you, and raising a brow.

“So, do we have a plan, or are we winging it today?”

“Not so much a plan, just a few ideas.” He prompted you on with a single look, and you pulled up your notes, going over some of the things you’d brainstormed to do, choosing the ones that you were most in the mood for. “We could go to Minnehaha park, and the falls, an-”

“Say that again?”

“Minnehaha?” You questioned, watching as he snickered at the word, and you rolled your eyes as realisation found you. “Oh, you are such a child.” Despite chastising him, you couldn't help but laugh a little yourself, the two of you giggling at the word, finding more entertainment than it actually provided.

“Sounds fun, you wanna’ find us somewhere to go wash up and get some breakfast?” He tapped at the screen, and you hummed, switching to google maps and finding your next stop as he climbed up and into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life underneath you.

Upon finding one, you hooked up the device to the car, directions reading out clearly over the speakers, and seated yourself in the passenger seat. After a quick clean up and more than enough jam and toast for one lifetime, you were on your way, the final chunk of the journey before reaching the capital city, and your day was truly beginning. Warmth washed over you both, the park welcoming you as the day hit noon, and you couldn't decide which direction you wanted to walk in first.

It was large, you wanted to see the falls, as well as the bridges and the little wooden gazebos, and so you were left with hours to simply walk the pathways and take your time in admiring everything. You had settled on starting out with one of the less crowded routes, not wanting to fight through the crowds to get to attractions and so you were more than happy to take the scenic routes.

“Have you ever danced under one of those?”

“A gazebo?” He snorted, letting you hook your arm through his as the two of you wandered away across the gardens, following the paths under the shading of trees, the sunlight filtering through between the leaves and catching the golden specs in his eyes as you looked up at him. You only nodded though, and he let his gaze flick over to one of the structures, taking it in carefully, and his smile faded away, becoming more nostalgic than cheerful, and he swallowed thickly. “No, but I know Kat wanted to at her wedding. I was her date to a family party once, it was in a park, and the band was playing on one. She told me she wanted to dance on one at her wedding.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch..”

Your words came out like a whisper, a disapproving sound in the back of his throat sounding, and he pulled his arm from yours, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders, curling you into his body, warm hand running up and down your arm. “What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I don’t know. For making you talk about it? It just seemed like one of those times a person would apologise.”

“It doesn’t hurt to talk about anymore, and it’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before clearing his throat a little, and you watched as heat crawled up his cheeks, tinting them a shade of pink that made him look positively adorable, your heart flipping in your chest as the two of you continued to meander along the trails. “She’ll always be special to me, y’know? It’s nice to be able to talk about her now, she was important to me. It’s nice to have a girlfriend who doesn’t mind me talking about my past, and someone I don’t have to hide things from. It’s really nice, actually.”

It was the first time either of you had put a label on anything, and well he had said it so casually you’d think it was the thousandth time he'd spoken the word. The blush on his cheeks and the way he was suddenly fascinated by the pebble he was kicking along and scuffing the toes of his sneakers with was a different story, though, and it made you want to snicker at the different sides of him. He would have the world believe he was locked off and cold, but in reality, he was nothing but a softie at heart, made up entirely of mush and warmth and insecurities, and you loved knowing the real side of him.

You pulled him to a stop, catching his lips with your own before he’d even had a chance to ask what was wrong, and he let out a high-pitched sound of content surprise into your mouth, before he was pushing back into you with just as much enthusiasm, his hands coming to settle on your waist. Tugging you infinitely closer, there was no space left between your bodies, your arms looping around his neck to hold him close as palms smoothed over your bag, fingers dancing along your spine.

It was deep and passionate, nothing sexual and nothing more needed, just enough to conform between you both that he’d said the words and you’d accepted them, and agreement on where the two of you stood without stuttering words and heated cheeks needing to flame up, but simply a confession without words. Soft lips teased over your own, dragging in delicate motions before he was diving in, taking it as far as to tease you with drags of teeth over soft skin, before he was returning to barely brushing his mouth over your own at all.

Your heart was racing and your head was spinning, and you were broken apart only when your body was shoved a little by a dog that was racing past at high speeds, bumping your leg with enough force to send you stumbling a little, and two young children raced past after it, a huffing and puffing father following too.

You weren’t sure what to expect really, that was exactly what happened when you stopped in the middle of a park pathway to kiss your boyfriend, but you wouldn't change it for the world. His nose was bumping against yours, a soft chuckle leaving him, before you were taking your place by his side once again, slipping your hand into his and weaving your fingers together.

You were more than happy to just trail around the park with him, letting him guide you, and it seemed he didn’t know where the two of you were going either, but you were soaking up the days with him, making the most of your trip. You were more than halfway through, almost at the end of it all, and yet you still didn’t know whether to or not you were ready for it to end. You’d planned this trip around finding yourself, around discovering who you really were. It wasn’t that you had no idea who that was, but busy lives and societal stress had a way of trying to mould you and force you into being someone else, and along the way, you’d not only remembered who you were, but you’d also managed to wrangle Mitch back into being himself, you’d helped crack him out of the cement that was sealing him down, and you just hoped that at the end, he didn’t retreat back into the stone.

After your walk through the park, you got dinner, sharing a bowl of pasta and a pizza over the table, before heading back to the car. You took the long route, though, wandering for a while through the streets, and watching as the sun set over the skyline of Minnesota, pastel colours painting the skies. Blues and oranges that made the clouds look purple and grey, a surreal kind of painting that silhouette everything before it as not to be outshone. Beauty created by nature that you oh-so-loved to see, never getting tired of watching the sun dip below the horizon, signalling the end of another day, only to promise to return to you hours later, and bring a whole new realm of possibilities when it rises again.

He chose to drive, as long as you sorted through the music, his boldness shining through more and more over the last few weeks, and he was judging your taste in music as the last few songs made him cringe, so if he was driving, you had to properly DJ for the pair of you, and keep his mood up with better songs.

Night crawled in over the sky as pastels faded into something deeper and darker, and you were left to simply admire the way the night moved on instead. A few snacks and a lot of singing later, your throat was a little sore and your voice slightly raspy, as was his own, sleep threatening to come and claim the both of you, the highway fading away into the distance as you pulled off onto the side roads.

“You know, we’ve done all the long drives now. We only have all the little ones, they’re all five hours or less.” You offered, pulling out the large paper map and spreading it out across your lap as Mitch drove, the fabric rustling as his hands shifted out from your thigh to allow you to smooth it down.

“I would still consider five hours a long drive.”

“Yeah, well, you only have to do half of them, don’t you? We’ll swap halfway.” You dragged your finger over all the spots you’d passed, overdue on crossing off each of your places, before shuffling around through every place you could think of to find your marker. You checked the glovebox, the dashboard, and the cupholder, before finally finding it buried in the side-compartments of the door.

“Hey, I’ll happily do the drives, I just think we have different definitions of what is a long drive.” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes, uncapping the marker with your teeth and crossing off all of the locations up to where you were, ‘Wisconsin’ being the next place up on your tour of the country. Folding your map away, you tucked it back into place, waiting patiently for Mitch to give you his attention again, and when he didn’t, you reached across the console to take his hand in your own, pulling it back to smooth over your thigh, and he chuckled, letting you unfurl his fingers until he could squeeze at your thigh reassuringly.

“Okay, we have quite a few options for things to do in Wisconsin, you ready to hear ‘em?”

“Shoot!” He cheered, and you jumped a little at the exaggerated enthusiasm he gave to you, before you were giggling along at the way he smirked pridefully at having scared you. “Sorry, baby, go ahead.”

“Okay, well, we have a lot. We have general touristy attractions, as well as some better things, and some options on places to eat, too.”

“Start with activities.”

You nodded your head at his command, scrolling down through the notes on your phone, thumb flicking quickly, before finding where you needed to be. He was following the occasional commends from the device you held as it guided you both in towards a truck stop that you could pull over onto for the night, taking a break from the long day you’d had and all the driving you’d done, the bed beginning to call for you both, but you wanted somewhere safe to stop, first. “Okay, so we could go to a waterpark? I don’t know if that’s your thing, but it’s an option.”

“Pass. I like waterparks, but the ones where it’s hot. Wisconsin feels a bit cold for that.”

“Fair point. A ‘no’ on the waterpark, then.” You crossed it off of the list, before finding the next one, and grinning at the suggestions came up. “We also have an amusement park, Olbrich botanical gardens, the cave of mounds, Milwaukee river wal-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Go back by one?”

“The cave of mounds?” A bashful smile broke out on his face, and as he made yet another turn down some of the dimly lit roads, his head twisted towards you to give you a disbelieving look. “What?”

“You don’t find the humour in that?” You thought about it for a second, before letting out a groan with your breath.

“You’re such a child!” You slapped at his arm, ignoring the sound that he let out in protest, and fighting back with the hand he freed from the steering wheel to fight back, the car jerking roughly with every slide the two of you made, swerving on the empty roads, before you called it a draw, weaving into the parking lot, spotted with other vehicles around the place.

“C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t find it entertaining! The cave of mounds.” His hand on your thigh again slipped a little lower, pushing between your legs and you gasped, before smacking him away and he smirked to himself, before using both hands to find somewhere to park, away from everyone else. “I know a mound with a cave that I’d very definitely like to explore.”

As the car died, he turned towards you, and you felt the heat wash over your features quickly, gaping at him a little. “You are awful. That was awful.”

He leaned over the centre, brushing a stubbled cheek against your own, before pulling your lower lip away a little in a loose bite, letting it go when you whimpered for him. “C’mon, you telling me you don’t want me to explore your cave?” You wanted to gag at the way he phrased it, but the pun entertained you both, and you whined as he climbed between the seats and into the back, kicking off the shoes and throwing them forwards, one of them bouncing from the wheel and dropping into the driver’s seat. “Gonna’ come back here and join me?”

“I haven’t even read you the place to eat yet!” You scoffed, but toed off your shoes anyway, unclipping yourself from your seat, and he grinned as you crawled between the seats. He took the phone from your hands, clicking it off and leaving it on the cushion you’d just abandoned, before his body was pressing your own back onto the mattress, hands supporting his weight on either side of you as his lips brushed teasing over your own.

“I already know what I want to eat.”

His tongue flicked out over your upper lip as you gasped, a hand lacing into his hair as you grinned, giving into his wicked ways, before letting his mouth clash with your own.

Following Wisconsin was Chicago, and you arrived in the early evening, pulling up into a truck-stop not too far outside of the city. It was one of the nicer ones that you’d been too, that was for sure, it was well lit without the lights being dingy and flickering yellow, and it wasn’t as dirty and grubby as the others. The usual diner that you expected was more of a restaurant and bar, it seemed far too elegant to be classed as a ‘diner’, even if it did still have that kind of oldies vibe, with plush leather seats and songs that were older than Stan playing over the speakers.

You were then happy to use the bathrooms within which to change, you were certain that the patrons and staff here had seen more unusual and concerning things than you wandering around in a set of Bambi themed pyjamas, drinking hot cups of tea in the corner with a man in sweatpants and a hoodie. After all, no matter how classy it was, it was still a truck-stop.

Your first real day in the Windy City was quickly decided to be spent sightseeing, a decision the two of you had settled on over hot coffees and toast, before preparing yourselves for the day.

Today, you would be all-out tourists, even if just for twenty-four hours.

You were all but buzzing in the car as you walked along towards Millennium Park, your hand woven with the one belonging to the man beside you, your side pressed up to Mitch’s, cuddled in close to him, as a scarf sat wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm and help fight the slight chill being carried on the breeze.

“I want to see the big, shiny bean.”

“The what?” You could hear the incredulity on his voice, humour laced with it, and you grinned, hiding the expressing in the edge of the wool sitting up near your face.

“You know, that big thing that’s shiny and shaped like a bean.”

“Do you mean the ‘Cloud Gate’ sculpture?” You let out a hum, and he scoffed under his breath, squeezing your hand in his a little tighter. “That is one of the most famous pieces of artwork in the world, I can’t believe you just called it ‘that big, shiny, bean thing’.” You turned to face him a little more, narrowed brown eyes with a honey-coloured tint already peering at you, his lips twisted down in a frown, but the little ticks along his muscles told you he was still deeply amused by it all. “You’re the worst. I can’t believe you don’t even know the names of these things.”

“Oh, hush. Stop being such a sourpuss.”

He grinned at you then, a smile like the Cheshire cat at what he was clearly taking to be a compliment, in his own twisted and unusual ways, but he didn’t have a chance to respond, as the two of you made it into the square, and you were letting out an excited squeal as the sight you were waiting for came into view. It was glimmering, clean and sparkling with the lights of the sun and the office buildings standing tall around it, reflecting from its perfectly untarnished surface, and your pace picked up a little.

There were many other people crowded around, groups of tourists and other couples, as well as people who were slightly less fazed by the beautiful sighs, clearly locals who were accustomed to seeing it every day. Business workers rushed around in smart suits and blazers, briefcases in hand and glasses sitting on the tips of your nose as they barked orders into their phones, uncaring of who’s shoulders they bumped as they passed by, and even if being in the lesser-known world that your boyfriend and uncle worked in, you’d never trade or for a boring nine to five any day, you secretly liked a little thrill. Basic was never something you could roll with.

Placing your hand flat to the cool metal, Mitch did the same, both of you watching in awe as the slight fog that had built up in place fade away quickly, as though you’d never touched it at all.

“It’s so clean.”

“I was just thinking that.” He mumbled, licking the tip of his finger and smearing it over the surface, before watching as that seemed to dry and disappear too, leaving no trace of his disgusting act. You were staring at him, jaw dropped a little, and he turned to face you, raising his brows as you did, and you didn’t give up on the stare. “What?”

“You did not just lick the shiny bean thing.”

“I didn’t!” his face screwed up a little at the thought, nose wrinkling as he scowled at the idea, and your brows only shot up further. “I didn’t! I licked my finger, and then wiped it on the metal. I wanted to see how it stayed so clean, it’s weird!”

“It’s gross!”

“I didn’t put the finger back in my mouth afterwards!” He was smiling now, a few people glancing over at your raised voices as you argued playfully, and he made an attempt to tug you in closer, but you resisted, fighting off his attempts at affections as you held your end of the argument. “So, my spit is gross now?”

“Yes!”

“You don’t seem to have that opinion when you’re swapping spit with me late at night.” He teased, nipping a little at your ear as he managed to wrangle you until your back was pressed to his chest, and you gave in, letting him wrap his arms around you full, and press an overly wet kiss to your cheek, that made you groan out at him. “Say it! Admit that you like it!”

“It’s different!” You laughed, letting him walk you away from the crowds some more, and he shook his head, spinning you around to face him once again, a question silent on his tongue but dancing in his eyes as he watched you. “You know it's different.”

He grinned, lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, before he shrugged giving in. “Fine, it’s different. Whatever.”

He let out a heavy sigh, and you cheered under your breath as he caved, quietly acknowledging your victory. “So, what do you want to do, Mr Rapp?”

“I like when you say that.” He grinned, bumping the tip of his nose over your own, before taking your hand, guiding you along and away from the busy spots, leading you in slow steps as he considered it all. “Let’s do that tall tower thing, you know? The one with the glass deck you can stand on. We could take some pretty awesome pictures.”

“That ‘tower thing’? With the glass?” You rolled your eyes, and he shot you a dirty look, already seeming to guess where this was going, lips pursed as he watched your face grow in extreme mischief, biting on the inside of his cheek to contain his sounds of distaste. “Do you mean the Willis Tower sky deck?”

“Yes.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth, his body going a little rigid in his steps and he fixed his gaze ahead, ignoring everything you said at this point, but that didn’t stop you from carrying on.

Your voice dropped down to mimic his own as you spoke a variation on his own words back to him; “I can’t believe you don’t even know that names of these things.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Yes, you do!” You sang the words, giggling when he growled under his breath in warning, but only a second later, he was pulling you in close, cutting off your taunting and teasing as his mouth sealed over yours, a squeak leaving you when his tongue swept over your lower lip.

You weighed the argument in your mind, knowing that you were in public, and that hew as trying to distract you from mocking him some more, but you couldn't think straight with the way his fingers inched under the edge of your jacket, warm palms barely blocked from your skin by a thin layer of material, before he was pulling you in closer. Your front was pressed up to his, heart beating wildly in your chest, and he let out a disappointed sound on the back of his throat as you resisted him.

Instead, he swapped tactics, sucking the plump piece between his own, grazing over it with his teeth, and letting out a breathy sigh as you gasped at the sensation, before giving in, your mouth parting further until his tongue tangled with your own, your arms looping around his neck to hold yourself closer to him. You could feel his smile now, pressed to your mouth as you gave into his touch, caving into him, and he was more than happy to take from you anything that you’d give him.

When the burn for oxygen became too much, you broke away, the heat of embarrassment on your cheeks being enough to chase out the cold, and he was painting a little too, the red on his pale flesh showing that he felt the same as you, but it didn’t stop him from stealing a few more pecks form you each time you tried to speak or catch your breath.

“What was that about?”

“Had to shut you up somehow.” He grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulder to hold you to his body, without ever letting go of your hand. “Swapping my gross spit with you seemed like a good way to go about it.”

“Are you going to let that go?”

“No. Probably not.” He teased, pulling his phone from his other pocket and beginning to search for directions to the Sky-deck, before a sudden chuckle left him. “We both know I’m really good at holding grudges.”

Your breath hitched in your throat for a second as you weighed out the dark joke, replaying his words in your mind to be sure you’d heard them correctly, and they still felt surreal, before you were letting out a laugh yourself at his statement. “I cannot believe you just made that joke.”

“It’s my trauma and I’ll joke about it if I want to.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head, following the directions being read out from the device in his hand as the voice guided you toward your next attraction a shake of your head carrying you through. It was a short and brisk walk, followed by further bickering, lighthearted and instantly forgotten as you wandered along, and much to your joy, there was only a short queue to get to the little glass platform, but once you reached it, you couldn't deny just how exceptional the view was.

It was so high up that the view granting you the ability to look all the way out to the horizon, the greys and dull browns of the city fading away into shades of green towards the edges, countryside and trees taking over from cityscapes and concrete, and it was breathtaking. Pressing both of your hands up to the glass, you took it all in, observing the beautiful sights, and memorising it all, before looking down, fear striking through you as you took in the clear glass below you that slipped away into nothing, one hundred and three stories up into the air, and supported by nothing but a sheet of clear glass, the people buzzing around below your sets of feet was terrifying, and yet adrenaline searched through you just at the idea.

“It’s scary, right?”

“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, big shot assassin and all?” He grinned, shaking his head, hair flopping into his eyes and before he could push it away himself, you raised your hands up, cold fingertips smoothing over his cheeks before pushing the silky hair away from his face, his eyes fixed on your own the entire time. His head twisted to the side, lips brushing over your palm in a sweet gesture, before he was wiggling his phone at you once again.

“Want to take a picture? I need a new lock screen.”

“Sure!” He unlocked the phone, letting you guide him into a position you liked as you took in the landscape, before you were cuddling into his side, offering a sweet smile to the camera as he matched it, and he pressed his thumb down on the button, both of you pulling it back to look at it. As selfies went, it wasn’t horrendous, but it certainly wasn’t the best picture ever, and you frowned at the light that was covering your faces in an odd glow as the light came through the glass. “Huh. Not our best picture.”

“Yeah. I can agree with that. You still look cute, though.”

“I kinda’ look like a frog, if you squint.” He did as you said, before laughing at it, turning to look at you and squinting, and you shoved your hand in his face as he held the phone up in comparison. “Don’t get it stuck in your head.”

“You’re a cute frog, at least!” He grinned at you, letting you snatch the phone from his hand. You wandered away, passing it to a mother who was tiredly staring at here three kids as they blew hot air onto the windows and drew faces and wrote rude words, and she seemed more than happy for the distraction, even if it was just taking pictures for someone else. Making your way back over to him, he already had his arms held out for you, and you turned to face the woman as she gave you both a countdown. You felt lips brush your ear as she reached two, warm breath washing over your skin, making you shover a little as he whispered into your ear; “Ribbit.”

You couldn't help it, the normal smile you had held morphing into a whole-body grin, his arms around your waist being all that held you upright as you tried to curl in with your amusement, and she walked back over, giving the device back to you quickly, before dashing off to wrangle her kids back up. You took it, looking down at the image, and despite his sudden mumblings into your ear, it was still one of the best photos the two of you had ever taken.

You were silhouetted against the backdrop, his nose brushing your cheek as your eyes closed, a wide grin on your face, holding tightly onto one another as sunlight poured in from behind, and the glass was barely noticeable, almost making the two of you look as though you were floating on the light above the city.

“Okay, that’s a good one, admittedly.”

The two of you stepped away from the spot as he hummed, letting the next people have their turn, and instead you watched as he set the new picture onto his phone as the wallpaper, and you leaned in, kissing a stubbly cheek quickly as your chest bubbled over with warmth from the inside out. Sticking your hands into your pockets, you wiggled numbing fingers a little, wishing you’d brought gloves, but you were more than happy to deal with the cold if it meant getting to cuddle into his side like you did every time he wrapped his arm around you, like he was doing right now.

Fingertips tucked under the edge of your shirt, nails brushing over bare skin as he traced unrecognisable patterns, phone back into his jacket pocket securely. “So, what now?”

“Well, I heard there was a drive-in movie place near here. Wha’d’ya say we get some takeout food, and go and check it out. If we park the car backwards, we don’t even have to get out, we can just cuddle in the bed and watch.” He shrugged a little, letting you go so that you could begin to climb down the stairs on your way back towards the streets, and you thought it all over.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

You had a surprise for Mitch on your second day in Chicago, and you were bursting to tell him about it, but had saved the thought until after you’d had your breakfast. Instead of the usual diner, you’d waited long enough to find a little outdoor café, sipping on mimosas and you giggled about the fancy life you could have had if you’d taken different paths at different stages of your lives, but you still reminisced about everything that led you to being right here, with one another.

You walked along the rover, burning off the champagne in your drinks before stopping for a quick bite at lunch, and then, you were leading him along towards the next attraction you had in store, under the guise of a simple walk to explore. He began to catch on part of the way around, the posters and signs starting to give it away, and while you didn’t confirm it until you were getting into the museum, he spent a good ten minutes almost bouncing in his steps as you walked.

It was adorable, the way he let loose and actually allowed himself to feel the excitement he had as you walked along, a tour of a world war two submarine, because you weren’t blind to the way he’d been excited about the other kinds of attractions you’d visited during your time on the road. He was grinning madly when he looked at the sight, being guided down underground to where it lay, and you heard him gasp audibly when it came into sight.

It truly was incredible, so big you had to tilt your head just to see the entirety of it. The length of a city block, massive and supported on stilts, and you had no idea how much it must weigh, but it was an incredible feat, and even you were excited to learn about it. The dock along the side of it was decorated with interactive pieces from within, as well as pedestals with information on them, and scripts to be read, explaining and giving insight on what you were seeing, plenty for the two of you to learn about.

It took all afternoon and into the late evening, only leaving when you were eventually beginning to be ushered out by the workers, and you were pretty sure he’d memorised every piece of information, and he was all but walking on clouds as you made your way back to the car, intending to get a good night’s sleep before your journey tomorrow as you drove up to Michigan would begin. His arms were wrapped around you, and it seemed that you had inadvertently bought yourself some extra affections, because he was peppering kisses to your skin and nuzzling his nose into your temple the entire way home, snuggling you close into his body and holding on tightly.

“I take it that you had fun, then?” You teased, slipping off your shoes to try and wiggle into your pyjamas, and you let out a distant sound of protest when he snatched your clothes from your hands, before his fingers were smoothing over your cheeks, pulling you down to his mouth as he rolled your body on top of his.

“I had the best time. It was amazing.” He whispered the words into your mouth, syrupy sweet kisses given to you between words, and you were left breathless as he incessantly kissed the air form your lungs, but you didn’t care, because the burning inside only made everything feel more heightened, your head spinning and hazy. “I’m not used to people doing such nice things for me anymore, so thank you.”

“It was just some tickets to see a submarine, I feel like you’re giving me more in return than I gave you.” You teased, and he gassed, nipping on your lower lip, and using the tip of his nose to move your head to the side, dragging his mouth along your jaw and further down. You could barely think straight as he sucked at the tender skin along your collarbones, pushing your shirt up a little so that he could rest his hands on your waist, and you took his face in your hands, bringing his gaze back to yours, and he peered up at you through dark eyes, vulnerability flashing over his features.

“It was nothing, Mitch, I just wanted to make you happy. Clearly, I got that right.”

He stared up at you, swallowing thickly before nodding his head, and he pulled you down into his arms, your foreheads pressed together as your breaths were shared, intimate and loving and you held one another. “Thank you.”

His voice cracked as he spoke, and you dragged your lips over his in a final kiss, before curling down into his body. “You’re welcome.” You pressed a hand over his heart, feeling it thud steadily and quickly under your palm, before your nails were scratching a little at his skin through the henley on his chest, scrunching it up in your hands as you clung to him. “So, you wanna’ tell me about your favourite part of the submarine?”

“Fuck, yeah, I do.”

Michigan featured a trip out to Mackinac Island, arriving in the late morning after breakfast on the road, Mitch having kept you up late into the night to talk, everything from the submarine, to other random facts he knew about war vehicles - seemingly a passion of his that you’d unlocked, and you made a mental note to make more historical-feature related trips with him in the future - and it had devolved into meaningless chatter.

Soaking up the sun with pretty sights and beautiful settings, you wandered the whole expanse, pretty white buildings and greenery, with streets of cobblestones, bicycles riding up and down in place of tyre tracks and pollution, and it was a little snap out of reality. There were horses pulling carts along the streets and lampposts with hanging flowers, old-fashioned and beautiful with bulbs that would light up when darkness came around, and you could only imagine how ethereal the beautiful streets would look when glowing with the golden light that would spill from them.

A break away from reality, something that seemed like you’d stepped into a painting, like another world in a movie or the kind of setting you could only picture in your mind or found described in a good book and a grizzly and grey day, filled with rain on lashing windows. You would’ve loved it in the rain or the snow, but you were fortunate enough to enjoy it with golden hues from the sun cast down over you both, sunglasses perched on your nose and his as you took in everything the little island had to give.

The pair of you were unwilling to leave until the sun was setting and it was getting too cold to remain outside any longer, and yet you still lingered for as long as you possibly could. It was surreal, memories you’d never forget, and you were too tired on the way back to the car to even think about the words Mitch was saying, to properly process them as you leant onto his shoulder and let him prop you up as you walked along, your cheek pressed to the curve of his arm as your eyes fluttered, closed longer than they were open, and you moved through your bedtime routine on autopilot.

He was whispering quiet words to you about how you’d almost come full-circle, chatting about everything the two of you had done so far around the trip, and while you could only hum along and nod with a sleepy smile now as he curled you into his arms, those same thoughts would come back to haunt you with troubles and worries in the morning.

You were squirming a little in your seat, keeping your eyes locked on the road ahead, fingers picking at the material of your leggings on the leg closest to him, a bid to keep his hand off of you, even though he occasionally managed to sneak his hand onto the spot for a little while when your guard fell.

You were trying your best, but you weren’t excellent at hiding how you felt. You may have been trained by the best in the business at the physical aspects, but you were never good at the rest that came with that job field. You were an open book, you didn’t possess the same ability to lock everything up tight like Mitch did, or create a façade of anger and arrogance like your uncle did. The atmosphere around you was stagnant and bored, the conversation having fizzled out long ago, the music being all there was to keep you company as the two of you hummed along in quiet, and you knew that Mitch could tell something was up, but he wasn’t pressing on it, and you were thankful for that.

When you passed the sign welcoming you into Dayton, Ohio, you were met with a soft sigh from him, and he flicked on the indicators, pulling onto the side of the road. You watched in confusion, a strangled noise leaving him as he cut across the lanes, ignoring the honking and swerving of other cars, before the vehicle was shuddering a little bit and rolling to a stop along the mud and gravel, and he turned to face you, making a point of switching off the car, keys jingling.

With a forearm resting over the steering wheel, his entire body twisted, and you swallowed thickly, avoiding his gaze and choosing to stare out at the road, tracking the other cars with your eyes to keep you busy as his stare burned into the side of your face.

“Alright, spill. Did I do something? Because, kitten, if I did, I’m sorry. Just tell me what’s up so I can fix it, because I don’t like this dead air between us. Now I get how you felt for that first week or so, and it fucking sucks, alright?” He huffed, and you gave in, guilt eating away at you as you turned to face him, and he leaned in over the console a little bit, but it didn’t give him much access to you. He shook his head instead, growling a little under his breath at not being able to reach you, and you gave him the most reassuring smile that you could muster.

“You didn’t do anything. I was just thinking about what we should do today. We have two options, but they’re at other ends of the state, and I was just weighing the pros and c-”

“Bullshit. Why are you lying to me?” He fixed you with a pointed look, your jaw snapping shut, a tick in the muscle from the force at which the muscles clenched. “Please.”

His voice cracked a little as the beg came out, wide brown eyes shining as he stared at you, vulnerable and lost and a little bit upset, and you caved in, your hands clenching up as you pulled them closer to your chest to try and cave in on yourself, but he was watching you carefully as you sat there, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He moved when you looked up, your eyes wider than his own and he knew it wasn’t something he had done, and his hands fumbled to unclip himself from the car. Only a second later, his door was opening, and you were watching with a hanging jaw as he rounded the vehicle in a jog, before opening your side too.

He reached over your body, undoing your buckle too, and manhandling you in the leather seat until he had you twisted around, parting your legs to be able to stand between them as he rose a hand to tuck stray hair away from your face, palm settling over your jaw and fingers digging into your neck a little, thumb tracing soothing patterns from where it lay. “Just tell me, what’s wrong?”

“You know this could be our last day, right?” His brows furrowed, a wrinkle forming between them, and you raised your finger to smooth it away, feeling him chuckle a little at the action, but continue to wait for your explanation. “We’re close to Virginia now, and we’ve been on the road for, like, two months. If you were sick of it now and wanted to go home, I’d get it.”

“Sick of it?”

You shrugged, knowing that he’d picked up the hidden meaning in your words, and his hands dropped down, large palms massaging at your thighs on either side of his waist in a comforting act, before he was leaning in, and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, one that had your stomach swooping with butterflies, like the feeling of dropping on a rollercoaster, before he was pulling away, lips brushing over your forehead. He let out a little sigh, before making sure you were looking at him as he grinned, raising his brows a little as he tried to ease your nerves.

“What’s your plan, kitten? What are you planning to do?”

“Well, I want to go right up around New York and such too, full circle, y’know?” You made a circle motion with your hands, both of you laughing quietly. “It’s another week and a half’s worth of stops, maybe? Not too long, but if you wanted to go home, I would understand.”

“What I want is to get the full road trip experience with you, and I want to go.”

You perked up, looking up at him with wide eyes, finally bringing your own hands up to smoothing along his arms and to his shoulders, shuffling forward to the edge of your seat and pressing your forehead to his own. “Really?”

“This is what you’ve been panicking about this whole time? Why you’ve been giving me the silent treatment for two and a half hours?”

He shook his head, a breathy sound leaving him, the exhale washing over your face, and he grinned cheesily, bringing your mouth back to his. It was a reassuring kiss, comforting and caring, and making your heart slow from the irregular and erratic pumping it had been doing with your nerves racing, leaving you instead to lace your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as your head tipped to the side. Like velvet and silk, your mouths slid together, harmony in their movements, and you drowned into his touch, just for a little while.

“Please can we go back to normal now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. I got all wrapped up in my thoughts, and I-” You choked on your words, letting out a ragged sigh, and he stepped back long enough to let you see his entire face.

“This road trip changed my life, and I want to finish it.”

You just nodded your head, receiving a final kiss from him, before he was untangling his body from your own and circling back to his own seat, as you slammed shut the door and fastened yourself into your seat once again. Once the car had started up and you were back on the road, he held his hand out to you, which you now had no qualms in accepting, slipping your palm up to his, and letting him lift your hand to his mouth, lips pressing to your knuckles sweetly.

“How about you choose what we do for the day? For real, this time. Tell me what would cheer you up.”

“Why don’t we go to the airbase, it’s near here. Then we can get some food that looks so damn good, it’s Instagram worthy.” He let out a chuckle, shrugging his shoulders.

“You want to go to the air force base? Really?”

“Well, I’m pretty evenly split on both the possible activities, but I know that you really want to go to the air force base, and so I am more than happy to do that with you.” He let out a teasing ‘awe’ at your words, and your cheeks heated up with a flush of embarrassment.

“Okay, air force base it is.” He whispered, settling your joint hands over the gear stick to switch as needed, but never letting you go, holding on tightly as he began to follow the signs flashing up along the side of the road to guide you on your way.

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