#like i usually dont even bother to draw lips but i did it here so idk if theyre looking good or if i accidentally caricatured

[cherrybloodkei]

one of my oldest ocs, Lukas, got a glow up. First time i made him was on tektek, then when i first got into digital drawing i decided that the edgy emo kid thing wasnt for him (when i also realised i didnt had any black ocs u__u), and now he’s kinda reverted back to that same style as when i first made him, but he’s still a nice kid lol kinda ‘’I’m the main character. change my mind’’ vibes. I mean, i even gave him back his fairy companion!

[pufflocks]

hi bestie! here's a concept for u: think about sitting in arans lap after taking an (eventful) shower after practice. his skin warm against yours and the towel hanging loose around his hips does nothing to stop his bulge from pressing into yours. his kisses are slow and purposeful, sucking on your chest and neck while you apply product to his damp hair, massaging his scalp in that circular motion he likes. it's soft and intimate how you crane your head to get a better look at his scalp, brushing down and around in a clockwise motion a couple times until the waves curl in on themselves and he's looking dashingly handsome per usual.

"gonna put the duey on too?" he grins and you humm in reply. confirming his assumption when you lean in to press a kiss to his plump lips, simultaneously tugging the baby blue silk material off his desk. you secure it to his head with ease and slide your fingers along the seams to ensure the fabric doesn't press into his forehead while he sleeps. "there. all good" you whisper.

arans lovestruck smile is blinding, he looks at you with dark, hooded eyes that unleash butterflies in your abdomen. then a pulse of wanting warms you from the inside out when he rasps "mmm, thank you prince"

Summary: When- when I say I look dumb ash smiling hella hard in my bed- I say that with the highest confidence cuz. ✌🏽😛 I dont think yall understand but Aran is literally a fucking- *bangs on the mf table* BLACK GOD— lemme do this before I bust a nut in these damn pants. Also I love yo ass for this. ❤💙💛 { Hope you don't mind I got carried away. This req might make me do a part 2. 🚶🏽‍♂️}

Warnings: NSFW • Aran being fine ash • proof read

Cast: Bottom!M!Reader! X Aran Ojiro

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Steam clouded shower windows with two intimate silhouettes crossing eachother. Coming for the second time is when your mind started o slip into something darker than your own lust. You draw your body closer to the chest of your lover, Aran, as his heavy hands squeeze near your rigid hip bones as if it was routine.

In an hushed voice to your ear, "So out in the open for me, sweets." He smirked when you turned to plant a messy kiss under his jaw. Not meaning to linger longer than you need to.

Due to everything basically falling in slow motion, breathing felt more difficult as you felt him pulsate inside of you. Ugh, his girth was most definitely something you favored.

Anything that required moving felt hard, though. How could he be conscious while you were barely on your own feet ? God complex anyone would think, honestly.

Minutes passing while your heart sped up for the umpth time as you felt your orgasm come in reach. Not even a break ? You could only guess he was still pumped with adrenaline from the winning game earlier.

He hit the finishing touch to the ball as the audience roared with excitement and cheer. He deserved it. And as the greedy and lovestruck thing he was, he also thought he deserved some shower sex from his favorite person. You.

"Baby- g- Mm-! Gonna cum, bae. Fuck !" He held you close as though someone would take you from him. Broad shoulders hunching over as he jerked you off under lukewarm water.

He mumbled a, "Come on baby boy.. Come on daddy and show me how much I deserve this tight ass." That sent you over the moon immediately, having you shooting a quivering load. Breath racked in your lungs and head thrown back as your curled in closer to the much bigger body. "There you go. Good boy. Fuck, such a perfect lil' thing." Ending the sex with tender kisses to his lovers back.

He did deserve it.

●•》☆《•●

After a long while, you both made yourselves present in his room. Aran not even bothering to adjust the towel around his hips considering the light bulge he had underneath rudely pressing against your own.

"I love you so much Y/N." He started with purposeful kisses occasionally giving your ass a firm, but a gentle stroke of his enlarged hands. He loved you alright. He couldn't stop himself from nipping at your warm wet skin on your chest to your neck. The hickies already looking as red as a rose in spring. You doubt he would apologize for them since he enjoyed hearing you complain in the morning.

"I love you too. Too much.." You were in sync with his body language and movement. Had you not drawn yourself back, you probably would have had him have his way with you again. That sounded pleasant to the ears though you both needed rest.

"Give me the comb and oil bottle." Your boyfriend stopped his idle ministrations and quirked and eyebrow at you.

"Give you what ?" He waited for a response before you giving him a playful eye roll.

"Please. Please give me the comb and oil. Stop play with me, Aran." You said. He stifled his laugh as you were handed the comb. Soft stroking his head with it as you crane your head to get a different angles at a specific area. His hair was one of the things he cherished secretly so you and some other family members were only aloud to touch it.

A minute later or so you realized his eyes were lingering near your chest down to your idle member. "Feel good ?" You whispered. Scooting yourself closer to his body.

"Yeah. S' good to me, baby boy. Thank you." He murmured. The movement to hug your waist nearly made you drop the oil bottle out of your hand.

He sat up straight to look up at you only to give you a lingering smooches to your jaw. "Gonna put the duey on ?" He asked. You hummed. Raising your shoulders a bit from the ticklish sensation he was giving you to your jaw.

"So sensitive." He poked your sides making you jump, while in the process of grabbing his silky baby blue durag from his desk.

"Stop before I choke you with this string, boy." You giggled. He snickered. Not funny.

"You wouldn't." He pestered on. You would, but you weren't in the mood to act goofy after kickass shower sex.

He started to trace his fingers under your towel, rubbing on your thighs while you were at work putting on the duey. It was silent in the room besides him humming every now and then some songs.

"Done, you look sexier now." You kissed his forehead as you smoothed your hand over his head. He smiled then his face turned into confusion.

"I wasn't sexy before ?" He said chuckling. It was cute and funny how your day started with a win of a your boyfriend's game, then ending in you both in his room giggling and cackling like dumbasses.

"You are ! But this baby blue on yo big ass head gonna make me bust one. Stay safe." You chuckled lightly as you pulled away from him. Finally standing on your own legs on the cold wooden floor. The water on both of your bodies dried up now aswell.

"'M finna put on some clothes. It's cold in here." Before you could even step closer to the dresser he grabbed you by your waist. The both of you falling into the plush bed as he made quick ministrations to cover you both in blankets and his sheets. The towels you both had around your bodies long forgotton.

"You are literally something." You mumbled scooting closer to his warm chest. Having a slightly bigger person to cuddle with was always a blessing and he took that role with a smile.

"I may be something, but I'm your something and you're my prince." So sappy. He planted a kiss to your temple. You hummed in appreciation as you placed chaste kisses to his chest and underside his clipped beard.

"Sleepy now.." you said. Yawning felt really good at the moment. Letting your eyes hang low and mind rest fully. Aran held you closer to his chest as he brushed back any hair from your forehead.

"Go to sleep my prince. You deserve it." He murmured laying the final kiss to your upper eye lid. You don't know what you did to deserve it, but knowing how humble and forgiving your man is, you might have deserved it at this point if he said something.

Yes.. Yes.

[legendaryoikawa]

while we’re young / suna rintarou

a valentines day collab hosted by @prettysetterbaby​

synopsis: your self proclaimed unromantic boyfriend is eating you hard on his bed full of roses and jhene aiko blasting on his busted speakers.

this was made the last minute and i forgot to post this yesterday because i was asleep the whole valentines day lmao. also thank u to @godjo for helping me with my trashy writing skills HAHA ur the mvp bitch

minors dni (i dont want to go to jail istg 🦧)

"where are you bringing me this valentines?" you asked while struggling to carry out the huge heart plastic containers he gave filled with melted chocolates that looked ransacked.

"to my room," he replied shortly.

his back hunched as he glided down the school's marble hallway as if it's his own walkway.

"i'm sorry, what?” you exasperated.

you somewhat expected a fine dinner cuisine with him in a bow but his lack of preparedness as evidenced by the melted chocolates he managed to steal from the school's stalls and withered flowers that you immediately threw away)

you shouldn't be expecting so much. what you should so, is mediocrity.

he dragged his words as if he was talking to a toddler who's throwing a tantrum,

"i said... in my room.. do you not understand baby girl?" (

“excuse me suna? but in your bedroom... valentines?” you scoffed. disbelief painted on your face

“do you want me to spell it out for you, doll?”

suna gave you a benovelent smile imbued with smoldering intensity that makes your guts churn with both lust and chaos.

you rolled your eyes. sarcasm evident on your tongue as you said, "you are so romantic."

his lips drawled out stinging satire, “oh love, trust me. i am romantic even without trying.”

you roll your eyes, “aight, bet.”

he glanced behind his shoulder. his slitted eyes staring down on your orbs, deep and feline.

"but my dick is,” his words were dangling in the air leaving you there with an open mouth.

the students around you gave the same astonished look as yours but he gave no fuck at all.

smirking he turns around once again as he made sure his tone is higher than his usual.

“cum on brat.”

and that brat that is you chased him all the way down to his honda covic.

suna rintarou is not romantic. but he definitely made you cum in all possible position in his room. that valentines day.

NSFW AHEAD

you couldn’t contain yourself, especially when all he does was to tease you all the way down the corridor.

albeit harmless was his banters, but it definitely left you with oozing discharge and a sticky thigh— and sexual frustration if you could draw it out clearly.

“you know what?” you gritted in frustration when his fingers played with your clothed sex.

you found that gesture hot especially when his other arm was busy with yours and his other maneuvering the wheel with such suaveness

he looked at you smugly, “what?”

you moaned and laid your head on the headrest, eyes rolling back, “fuck you.”

“i will,” he said lackadaisically. his fingers elegantly made its way onto your damp clothed clit.

you widened up your legs in response and lifting up your hips to maximize the friction— you were growing too impatient and it send delight to suna rintarou.

“look at the brat who’s whimpering for my fingers?” he teased, playfully lifting his fingers only to jab it down to your clit again

“screw you and your dick suna,” you glared while trying to catch your breath from the supposed climax but he decides to pull his hands away to drive with two hands on the stirring wheel

“edging makes the dream work, brat.”

he parked his car haphazardly on his driveway. like a fucked parking and he didn’t even tried to fix it up

“you’re trying to get ticketed aren’t you?” you exhaled and looked at him with in hazy

he makes a contemplating face—one brow up, eyes boring into yours, lips pinned together then switched up into something like a snicker

“you’ll be paying for it.”

“excuse me?”

“happy valentines brat.”

you gasped in disbelief as he climbed out of his car and leaving you there alone, not even bothering to open up the door for you

he really is taking up feminism to a while new level and chivalry isn’t part of his vocabulary

you dragged yourself and closed his door with a bang.

only if you weren’t so needy and you would definitely leave suna’s ass without second doubt.

but priorities first and your pussy is throbbing at the moment and it makes you downright annoyed

glaring, you entered his apartment.

nothing usual— his psp laid there untouched with unorganized wires all around the console, an ashtray with few marlboro butts about one a nd a half inches, his sofa was not made, the pearl bracelet you gave him sat on the center table along with his other trinkets

you squinted when you felt the thin walls vibrate, he played a song with heavy bass and calm beat and soothing vocals

ah, you remembered how you mentioned jhene aiko to him one time.

you didn’t felt his looming presence from behind and his voice startled the soul out of you

“im not good at talking so go in the room,” he marches away and you weren’t able to see it through but he was completely shirtless.

you had to squint (due to his poor overhead lights) to see his trapezius bulging out whenever he flex his shoulders.

“fuck it come here, I don’t have all day,” he dragged you away and you were shocked to see the scene unfolding fast

it wasnt the ideal setting but the fact that he attempted to present you a bed of roses with candlelights standing in line on the headboard (you suppose were from his cupboard) instantly sent intense feeling bubbling in your chest cavity

he hates all of these but he pulled it off just as you liked

you turned to him, wrapping your arms on his neck

“i never thought you’d be this romance maniac?”

he raised a brow, “ive had enough of your bullshit,” he pushed your body on his bed, roses flying over your frame as he climbed over you, “let get down to the serious business.”

he started sloppily,

his hands were gropping you in all directions lazily, not that you mind much especially when a hotheaded cocky bastard is leading you on and keeps calling you a brat

his tongue teased your lower lip while his hand groped the curvature of your breasts

you let out a quiet whimper while trying to grind onto him as he was taking too much of his sweet time into tormeting you

he sighs after being content with your lips

he crawls down and lifted your skirt

oh.

“consider this as a consolation from the wrecked chocolates a while ago, atsumu was dumb for sitting on ‘em”

you couldn’t form any coherent words especially when he’s down there breathing onto your pulsing sex

he grins upon the sight of your face—mixture of frustration and needy

he burried his face onto yours, licking the same damp spot he was playing with in the car a while back

you threw your head back, burrying your face into his pillows upon the sensation you felt from his tongue

you tugged on the underware and it just made you nothing but slicker with desire

“why the rush brat?”

you replied with a shaky voice, “I thought you don’t have all day?”

“when did i start being so serious with my words?” he pulled the fabric down. “you should’ve known now that when it comes to your cunt, im always free.”

his mouth returned to your pussy but this time with raging intensity it made you moan out loud

his tongue swirled onto your clit, his nose brushing against your slick folds

he lifted one leg onto his shoulders and continued on with his business

his tongue licked circles, pushed into yours while his hands worked their way from behind, massaging your ass and thighs tenderly

he ate you out slowly with intensity it made you crazy

your vision became blurry as the growing sensation deep down your pit started to plummet

the shock from his tongue made you dizzy but nevertheless he continued on, smirking occasionally upon the sight of you gripping his sheets and squirming

“that was crazy,” you began as you recollected yourself from your high

suna pulled a gold foil from his back pockets

“yeah, and we were just getting started.”

happy late valentines yall!!

[crab-in-a-pocket]

Hello!! I love your ideas a lot! Can you perhaps to the bachelor/ettes reactions to seeing the farmer dressed up really nicely after being used to seeing them in constant dirty farm clothes? Maybe like just after they realize they have feelings for farmer, or before they’ve realized it at all. Thank you!

cute af idea, sorry i didn't get to this sooner :(

im currently cramming 8 weeks worth of hw bc i procrastinated and i am such a fucking fool. dont be like me. also, sorry to the maru n penny stans but i dont rlly like them and writing them is so hard so theyre not here but i will try to write more for them eventually

HAPPY LATE VALENTINES GUYS

alex:

the kind that chokes on his drink upon seeing you. he probably didn't dress up as well as he should've and you're dressed better than everyone's expected. his eyes keep drifting to you and his cheeks are all warm. he's unsure if it's from the alcohol or the sight of you. he approaches you quickly and you two drink the night away.

sam:

cheeks go cherry red upon seeing you. abigail's the one who notices first-- she points you out, grinning about how well you've dressed up, so much so she can hardly recognize you. sam turns and all sense and breath leaves his chest. sebastian pokes him with a pool stick and sam stutters out a hello, but it's no good, he's speechless.

sebastian:

you're the one to sidle uo next to him while he bends low over the billiard table, aiming for a ball. he greets you but doesn't look up and he only properly sees you when he stands straight again. the shock on his face as clear as day. you'd think he would be the type to stammer, but instead, his mouth curves into a grin and he tells you you clean up nicely. your faint blush completes the look, he thinks.

shane:

like alex, he chokes on his drink. he never bothers to dress up for any occasion and he'd always thought you the same until now. there's a tiny hint of betrayal hiding underneath that mix of embarrasment and fluttery stuff in his stomach. says some self-deprecating remark but compliments you, albeit grudgingly. he hides his smile behind his drink, but it doesn't work much-- you can still see how soft it is.

elliott:

"oh my yoba, the farmer's here, leah. act natural!1!1!1" kinda guy. jaw drops at the sight of you. you were already so charming, even in your admittedly grubby work outfit, but the sight of you in genuinely nice clothes that compliment your body type and your complexion is enough to make him go crazy. suddenly so blushy at the sight of you that he gapes a bit like a fish at first. then it's all smooth flirting from there-- he presses a kiss to your knuckles, probably because it's clean for once.

harvey:

blushy, surprised, but surprisingly enough, a bit more talkative than usual. it's probably because you were intimidatingly cool in your hardcore Farmer Suit and seeing you in normal clothes reminds him that you are, in fact, not a Farming RPG Terminator, sights locked on the dangerous mines, but totally normal, like right now. it's refreshing for him, even if his heart beats a little faster and pounds a little harder than usual at the sight of you.

abigail:

"hey, you look awesome!" is the first thing that falls from her lips. it's true, you do look awesome even in the surprisingly normal garb you're wearing. it's a little weird to see you clean of dirt smudges and hay in your hair, but it's super cool nonetheless. abigail's the one who's got you blushing the whole time.

haley:

math lady meme. trying to find a connection between the Farmer Hottie and the Dressed Up Hottie, and then when you see her, she realizes it really is you, the same radiant smile on your less dirt-smudged face that you give her whenever you see her per the usual, dirt-smudged and all. makes some weird comment about your outfit and you know it's a compliment. after a couple moments of awkward silence, haley's curiosity peaks. she finally bursts out with: where did you get that shirt it's so nice

leah:

surprised and blushy. she stomps on elliott's foot and he loudly complains, drawing your attention. conpliments your outfit and tells you you look great. she gets her bearings and she becomes more subtle in her flirting. elliott leaves because a. He's too Drunk to watch you and leah make goo-goo eyes at each other and b. he needs Another Drink to better ruminate his loneliness. you and leah flirt the night away and it ends with a light kiss to your cheek, butterflies in your stomach and a blush on her cheeks.

emily:

like her sister, she asks you about your clothes. she tells you look absolutely fantastic, your outfit on Point. the two of you chat about clothes but she's mostly thinking about which other kinds of clothes look good on you. she takes this surprise really well and she's cheerful at the sight of you looking comfortable in your dressy clothes.

[one-boring-person]

hello! I've just seen your answer to my ask and I'm so glad, I will head over there to wattpad to read it! thank you! I was also wondering if your Maverick requests are opened please? if so, would you be comfortable writing something where he's with a reader the same height as him with really long legs (I'm 5ft 9/verging on 5ft 10 and I think he's portrayed to be 5ft 9). if you dont want to write it because you like to keep your work non-specific with characteristics for all readers, I completely understand! thank you so much for your time and for the lovely content you put out for us all to read ❤

I hope you're having a lovely, lovely day/evening!

My Maverick requests are indeed open, and thank you for leaving a request! I do try to keep my descriptions as vague as possible, unless they are specified by the requester, so I have no problem writing this! And thank you so much for your kind words! It makes me really happy that you like my stuff!😊💛

I'll be honest, this fic gave me a bit of a challenge, but I've done what I could with it. I hope you like it!

Need A Hand?

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x 5'9/10!reader

Warnings: mild injury, some blood imagery

NOTE: the reader's call sign is Hornet (to clear up any confusion)

Masterlist

Maverick knew he wasn't particularly tall. He never had been, and never would be, but it had never really bothered him. Sure, it gave others something to pick up on and give him grief for, but he'd never really cared much about the snide comments. As a pilot, he often found himself glad that he didn't have to fold himself into the cockpit, like some of the other aviators, and it wasn't like he was particularly short, either. He knew people shorter than him, and it wasn't like it ever put people off him, especially not women. 

But even then, as he held Hornet's gaze, he suddenly found himself wishing he were just a little taller, just so he had a slight edge over this particular aviator. 

She had him locked in her stare, eyes right at the same level as his, expression unwavering as she regarded him, leaving him almost floundering under the intensity. Maverick never had this problem with women: he could usually stare them down, but (Y/n)? She was a different ball game. Her stare could easily rival Viper's, and it had already put Iceman and Slider in their places, so he knew full well that he wasn't getting out of this one with his reputation intact. 

Jaw clenching, he tried not to show his discomfort, but the other pilot was swift to recognise the signs, her lips quirking into a smirk. In that moment, Maverick knew he was beaten, the young man reluctantly looking away to avoid further embarrassment, though he could feel his heart beating faster to catch up to his newly flustered state, a blush dusting his cheeks. Hornet stepped away from him, going back to her seat. From across the room, (Y/n) smirked at him, turning back to her RIO as the commander stepped into the room, exchanging a couple of words with her. Maverick returned to his own seat.

"She get you, too?" Goose hissed to him, leaning in to hear what Maverick replied with.

"Yeah."

"Aw, man. That sucks." The RIO sighed, sitting back in his chair.

Maverick said nothing, choosing instead to remain quiet and observe the girl across from him. 

*

"Come on, man, don't give up on me now! We nearly have 'em!" Maverick complained, clapping Goose on the back as the RIO made his way off the pitch.

"Yeah, I know, but there's something up with my ankle." Goose grimaced, apologising before finding a bench to sit on, leaning back on it.

Sighing, Maverick gritted his teeth and went to step off court, only to be stopped when a familiar figure joined him. Instantly, Iceman and Slider on the other side of the volleyball court stopped laughing amongst themselves, suddenly curious as to what might happen. Puzzled himself, Maverick stared at the other aviator as she moved up to him, smirking at him.

"Need a hand?" (Y/n) asked him, ignoring the gazes clearly taking in her body all around her: it was too hot to play in anything but a pair of shorts and a bikini top, allowing her torso to show.

"Err, yeah, thanks." Maverick accepted, unable to keep his eyes off her beautiful legs, only tearing his gaze away when she snapped her fingers in his face, still smirking.

"My eyes are up here, handsome." Is all she said, before she grabbed the ball and served it in, catching the other two off guard.

A few rounds went by, during which (Y/n) proved herself a formidable ally, winning game after game, easily showing Iceman and Slider up. In this time, Maverick finally realised something, promising to himself that he would go ahead with the realisation he had. His fellow pilot had often made it clear what her thoughts were about what he intended on asking of her, but he thought he'd try anyway - there was no harm in trying, right?

Just as he thought this, a particularly well-aimed spike hit him clear in the face, knocking him backwards. A grunt escaped him, pain exploding out over his face as he went down, tears springing to his eyes from the impact. Groaning, he lay still for a moment, reaching up to probe at his sore nose, annoyed to find blood staining his fingertips when he pulled them away again. A few laughs sounded from around him, the watching aviators and spectators mocking him for his lack of attention, drawing a deep blush to his cheeks as he sat upright again.

(Y/n) was over in a second.

"Hey, are you ok? That looked like it hurt." She asked him, kneeling beside him with worry written on her face.

"Yeah, it did, but I'll live." Maverick responded, hesitantly swiping away some of the blood from his nose, a wince crossing his features as a pang followed the action.

"I'm glad." She smiled tightly, glancing at their opponents, "Those assholes."

"They're always assholes." 

"I know, but that was out of order."

She helped him up, signalling to the others that the match was over, walking off with him in the direction of the nearby bench, away from the pitch itself. Sitting him down on it, she quickly went and got her shirt and bag, pulling out a clean tissue as she did. Upon reaching him again, she started cleaning him up, dabbing at the blood now coating his chin.

"Thanks for this, (Y/n)." Maverick smiled up at her, appreciating the gesture.

"No need to thank me, handsome. Just keeping your looks in order." She chuckled, winking to show she accepted his thanks.

"How generous of you." He quipped back, grinning at her.

"Oh, I'm always the Samaritan."

Laughing slightly, the two of them remained quiet for a moment longer, before Maverick finally worked up the courage to ask his question.

"Err, can I ask you something?" 

"Hm? Yeah, sure. As long as it's not "have you always been this tall" because the answer is yes." She rolled her eyes playfully.

"No, no, it's not that, though I did wonder." Maverick reassured her, laughing when she lightly punched him in the arm, "No, it was something else…"

"Ok. What?"

"I was just wondering if you'd, err, want to go on a date with me?" He rushed the end of the sentence, totally nervous for her reaction.

For a moment, she froze and said nothing, staring at him in shock. Panicked now, he tried to cover himself up.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry. Ignore that I said that-" Her finger on his lips cut him off.

"I'd love to, though it's taken you long enough to ask." (Y/n) smirked at him.

"Really?"

"Of course."

[jawllines]

Sorry to be annoying but I asked awhile ago and I think tumblr ate my ask but did you ever do tattoo Harry blurb? I love them and I miss them:( I’ve looked through your tags and there isn’t any on there if you have posted one

I CAN POST ONE I WROTE A WHILE AGO RIGHT NOW :D I DONT THINK I POSTED HERE BUT LET ME KNOW HERE YOU GO PET 

i.

“Baby -- baby, c’mon!”

It was rare that Harry ever woke Y/N with more than kisses and cuddles. Maybe an abrupt shoulder shake if the both of them slept through their alarms (and, considering that they are the only ones with the key to open up their own respective stores, they never typically arrived late facing happy employees -- or in Y/N’s case, employee -- Niall, in particular, was always more of a grump in that situation than Riktor even), but even that still managed to be tender, and soft. He always treated her so delicately, as if she were made up of porcelain in the morning and it was imperative to speak in a low, soothing voice with careful touches or she might shatter. And she really didn’t think it was because she was an absolute terror to wake up -- Y/N did quite well, even as early as 5 AM she was still in somewhat of a pleasant mood, certainly nothing to be fearful of -- she thinks he’s just gentle in the morning. He’s gentle all the time, but for some reason or another, he’s extra soft with her then.

They had both had a bit of a busy day, so by the time that they made it back to Y/N’s flat (Harry said he liked it there best because it smelled like her, and -- well, he softens her up and calls her Darling when he wants them to go over there, so it’s hard to say no), both of them were ready for bed. Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open as they scarfed down the burgers they’d picked up on the way home, and once they’d finished and brushed their teeth, they toppled into each other on the mattress. Y/N would reckon they both fell asleep before their heads had even hit the pillow -- she doesn’t even remember crawling beneath the blankets.

Apparently she had though, because now as her brain tunes in with the world around her and she realizes that the distorted voice that had begun to prod her dreams was actually a grumpy, dry throat Harry, she’s cuddling herself closer in the covers. This only makes him grumble at her more, “You’re such a blanket hog,” he whines and Y/N finally blinks her eyes open, being greeted with Harry’s disgruntled, pouted face illuminated by the sunlight beginning to slip through the blinds, “I’ve been trying to unravel it for like ten minutes, but you’re all wrapped up! I’m cold.”

Y/N smiles sleepily at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation entirely as she begins to un-burrito herself from the covers, “G’morning, beautiful,” she murmurs as she does so, finally disentangling from the blankets and while she was a little less warm, Harry was quick to wiggle in beneath them, “Sorry.”

“Don’ be sweet when m’tryin’ to be angry with you,” she puckers her lips at him dramatically, and though he sighs, he leans in and presses their mouths together softly, “Your kisses aren’t g’na sweeten me up, m’still grumpy, blanket hog.”

She can only hum as she cuddles closer to him, “Sorry,” she repeated, this time adding, “Like to swaddle myself like a lil’ baby. Reckon you weren’t holdin’ me well enough last night.”

An offended gasp leaves through his lips soundly, enough that it startles her, but his arms worm around her waist and draw her closer to his body, “Brat,” he grumbled, dipping his nose into her throat, “I held you so well and you just wiggled right out of my arms and took all the covers with you.”

“Like a worm -- I wiggled out like a worm or somethin’,” she tried to sit up but his arms tightened around her, “This worm has to pee though and she’ll soak the bed if she isn’t allowed.”

His arm loosens around her, “This worm sounds like she’s a sleepy sort of delusional that requires about two hours more of rest.”

Y/N stumbles toward the bathroom in her room, “Noooooooo,” she whines, frowning at nobody, not bothering to swing the door shut before she plops on the cold toilet seat to relieve herself, “We’re supposed to go get hot chocolate, no more sleep.”

“Baby, it’s 6 AM and I’ve been up the last 30 minutes freezing my bits off!” He calls back to her and she giggles some, her eyes trying to accommodate to the bright white lights of the bathroom, “Sleep just a bit more and we’ll get the hot chocolate when we wake up next.”

She waits until she flushes and washes her hands to respond to him, and though she knows that she is definitely going to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, she stands at the foot of it with her hands in fists at her hips. He had let his eyes flutter closed by then but she thinks he could feel her eyeballing him, so he looks up past the mountain of blankets now covering him so she could only see his eyes and his nose, “What’re you doing?”

“You’re telling me, you don’t wanna go at 6 AM, three hours before the kiosk even opens to get hot chocolate with me? You must really hate me, don’t you?”

He huffs a sharp breath through his nose which is how he usually laughs in the morning, when he can’t muster up the strength to have a proper giggle, “Absolutely loathe you, baby doll, but could you please come back to bed so I can loathe you in the warmth?”

It takes little persuading -- as she said, she knew she was just going to crawl right back in beside him -- and instead of relying too heavily on the blankets to provide her warmth (like wrapping up half of it around her so she was cocooned entirely. . .this is what she normally does, and she would say that’s probably why Harry almost never has any of the covers in the morning), she relies on him. Picks up his arm so that she can fit herself underneath it and lies her cheek on his chest, “Your pits better not be smelly.”

“I make no promises.”

.                             .                         .

“I love your hair.”

“Stop it, Sweetheart, I’m g’na start blushing.”

They had slept for four more hours rather than the two Harry had originally suggested, but that always happens with them. Y/N would say that they are just too content cuddled up with one another that they milk it for all it’s worth. If one of them wakes up before the other, then they just settle their head back down and close their eyes again. Unless they had somewhere to be, of course, but Harry had a free Saturday (no clients schedule, even though Saturday’s could often be some of his heaviest days) and he’d elected to spend it with her -- whether they were awake or asleep didn’t much mater, they just liked to be near each other.

When they finally did wake up, they lazily got dressed into about thirty layers so they wouldn’t freeze outside. The weather had grown frigid quite quickly this November, and neither of them stood the cold very well, but there was a park lined with little pop-up kiosks with hot chocolate, sweets, little holiday goodies, and an obscene amount of knitted blankets (it was a clever marketing tactic, Y/N thought -- everyone is more willing to spend money on a blanket when they’re freezing cold - she and Harry had certainly fallen for it today). Y/N bought them shoe warmers to keep their toes at least not numb, and Harry lets her borrow a pair of his gloves because she keeps forgetting to buy some of her own. They both have hats fitted over their heads too, and since Harry’s let his hair grow out, his curls stick out from beneath the pumpkin orange print and Y/N can’t stop staring at it. She’s always loved his hair, she told him as much one of the first nights they’d sat on her bookstore’s floor and talked about just a bit of everything. Back when she barely realized she had a crush on him. . . .when she didn’t know that in just a little time, she would be over the moon.

And she’ll never forget that people used to make him feel like shit about his hair, so she maybe overcompensates by telling him every time she has thought about loving it. Which means today, in the span of a short three hours they’d been awake, Y/N had complimented his hair about twenty different times. If she was running her fingers through it, fixing his beanie, or just staring at him, she let him know just how much she adored his curls.

“I hate to tell you this, Button, but your cheeks are already red as apples,” she shifted the paper cup of hot chocolate from her hand closest to him to the other, so she could reach up and tuck them behind his ear, that had reddened from the cold, “The air has you more bashful than I ever could.”

“Not true,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he knocks closer to her ear, “I always blush when you go down on me.”

“God,” Y/N shakes her head, “You’re too much, d’ya know that?”

He laughs, nudging her with the cold tip of his nose, “You want the peppermint bark? We’re coming up on the seller.”

“Of course, I want peppermint bark,” she reaches for her wallet, “I’m stocking us up for the next hundred years or so.”

Harry slows for a moment, sliding his gloved hand into her own and squeezing, “Hey,” he begins, his voice soft, somewhat reflective and it brings her attention to him at her side, “Y’know when -- you remember how you said you just get random flushes of love for me and s’a whole lot and you just don’t know what to do with it?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, like every waking minute practically. Why?”

He smiles shyly, “I’m having one of those moments.”

“For the peppermint bark?” She teases, but his brows furrow and he swats her shoulder playfully, “Hey!”

“I’m trying to be sweet on you, and you’re still going on about this bloody chocolate,” he rubs the arm that he swats, even though Y/N has so many layers on plus the blanket that she bought wrapped around her, that he made no real contact with her body.

Y/N pulls him in for a hug, narrowly avoiding a child running past them as she does so, “Oh, you know m’only kidding. I love you too, Bug, more than words can describe and ten times more than the chocolate I reckon. . .well, unless it’s made really well this year.”

“I’ll leave you here, blanket hog.”

[ur-jinji]

141+levi

ps. have a lovely night (: and dont put preasure on yourself. u are great!

thank you very much anon!!! have a lovely night yourself <3 ur greater :)

someone to spend time with

levi ackerman x gn!reader college au

summary: in which two lonely people share an unlikely friendship and some confused feelings for one another

word count: 2.2k

song: someone to spend time with // los retros

“i got you boba,” you announced as you approached a small, square table in the library where your classmate, levi, resided.

“what the fuck is that.” he asked.

“tea.”

“say less.”

you handed him the drink and sat down across from him, watching him slurp away. his attention quickly moved back to the book in front of him.

“how’d you find me?” levi questioned, his steel eyes glancing up at you for a quick second.

“you’re always here,” you replied, shrugging. “plus, i need help with our reading assignment.”

“you always need help.” he sighed and closed his book.

you and levi shared a shakespearean literature course and somewhat became friends by default because your assigned seats were directly next to each other. he was very reserved in class, but your boredom got the best of you, so you’d talk his ear off. he wasn’t very amused initially, as he took his schoolwork and class time very seriously, but he eventually warmed up to you. after forcing levi to help you once, you just kept coming back. you enjoyed his quiet company, and he appeared to be just as alone as you were. except his was by choice, you assumed.

“i just can’t keep up with all of macbeth’s drama,” you joked. “i figured i’d pay you with tea and my presence to help me for the millionth time.”

“yeah, your presence was starting to not be enough,” levi said monotonously, yet a small smile forming on his lips.

“you must like my company a little if my presence was enough of a payment before now,” you replied as you leant your elbow on the tea, resting your chin in your palm.

“i guess you’re okay,” he said simply. “what do you need help with.”

“listen, i tried to read act 2, but i was at a loss,” you stated. “oh, and i forgot my book.”

“you’re an idiot,” levi mumbled, shaking his head. “c’mere.” your eyes widened, but you complied, getting up from your seat across from him. as you made your way around the table, he grabbed the back of the chair next to his and pulled it out for you. you thanked him and took a seat, in which he replied with a simple “mm-hm.”

“take some notes. i don’t want you calling me tonight saying you’re confused,” he told you. you nodded and grabbed your pencil and notebook from across the table. levi started summarizing the text for you, and explaining the shakespearean language that constantly left you feeling perplexed. you silently listened, jotting down notes for a while before getting bored and doodling on the sides of the paper. he quickly took notice in your drawings. he glanced down, seeing an outline of an angry face, along with an arrow pointing to levi. his eyebrows furrowed when he saw the word “stinky” accompanying the face and arrow. he swiftly picked up his own pen and drew an x through your doodles, then scribbling “brat” down on the paper. you giggled and nudged his knee with yours.

“tch. you should be paying attention. we’re being quizzed on this,” levi commented, causing you to groan. you folded your arms and let your face fall forward into them.

“i didn’t even hear the professor say anything about a quiz,” you grumbled, your voice muffling against your skin.

“you didn’t hear because you’re always talking my ear off. she said there’ll be an essay, too,” he added, only making you groan once again. you relaxed slightly when you felt his hand pat the back of your head. his head pats were his quiet way of trying to comfort you. they always felt nice.

you suddenly perked up, his hand falling off your hair, in which he moved to rest it on the back of chair.

“okay, okay. let’s get serious,” you said, nodding towards his textbook.

“i’ve been serious,” levi replied blankly. he continued his little lecture, and you wondered if he realized his fingers had started toying with the ends of your hair. his touch sent chills down your spine. you started to take note in your mind of how he sometimes did those little things. those little gestures and touches. you liked them a little more than you should have. maybe you were just touch starved, or maybe they just felt good coming from him. levi wasn’t an easy guy to read, so you normally brushed those kinds of moments off. but as he droned on about some witchs’ prophecies, all you could think about was how the tips of his fingers were getting closer to the skin on your nape.

“you’re not taking notes,” levi stated the obvious, sighing and turning his head to you. “like i said, i don’t want you calling m-“

“what if i called you anyway?” you asked gingerly. his eyebrows furrowed, and the hand behind you disappeared. “like, what if I called you, but not to talk about macbeth?”

“what else is there to talk about.”

ouch. okay. now this is fucking awkward. should’ve just kept my mouth shut and let the kid keep playing with my stupid hair.

“hah, nevermind. i was just kidding. keep going,” you managed to get out, despite the feeling of an invisible hand around your neck to keep you from continuing to make an ass of yourself. you shifted your attention forward, your gaze falling down to your notebook.

“um, yeah. you can call me,” levi spoke, his normally uninterested tone sounding off. there was the tiniest hint of....desperation? tenseness? it went unnoticed by you.

“no, it’s okay. i don’t wanna bother you more than I have,” you replied. i need to get out of here. “i actually gotta go. i told my, um, roommate i’d help them with something.” you swiftly stood up, reaching out to gather your things, when levi’s hand was suddenly grasping your wrist.

“i...want you to call me,” he said, his volume low and his gaze shifting around, appearing to be quite nervous. you froze, and his grip on your wrist began to loosen before letting it drop. you nod slowly, pushing your head downwards to hide the embarassing blush creeping on your cheeks.

later that night, you were left alone, as your roommate was out with their friends or participating in a study group almost every night. you were sat at your desk, drumming a pencil and fidgeting around nervously, wondering if you should call levi. the phone works two ways, and you always seemed to be the one making the effort to hang out or talk to him.

what if he thinks i’m desperate?

you sighed and swallowed your pride. you pulled out the headphones from your ears that were playing loud music and found yourself staring at his contact in your phone.

knock knock. knock.

your head snapped in the direction of the noise coming from outside your door.

“hey, brat. let me in.”

you froze, your mouth dropping. you sat there for a few moments, debating whether or not you should pretend you went to bed.

knock. knock.

you took a deep breath and stood, making your way to the door and cracking it open. you saw levi with his usual stoic expression. before you could even say a word, he raised his hand, pushing the door open and walking past you. he stopped in the middle of the room, his gray eyes scanning the area.

“i’m assuming this is your side,” levi said simply, pointing to your side of the room. you felt embarrassed when you realized your bed was unmade and a plushy was propped up against your pillow.

“hah. uh, yeah,” you replied. the nerves in your voice and laugh were evident. you crept to your desk, wanting to hide anymore embarrassing evidence. you quickly found a cringey picture frame of you and a friend from your hometown, your hand grasping it and gently placing it facedown.

“what brings you to my dorm?” you wondered, taking a seat in the desk chair to hide your shaking legs. unfortunately for you, your shifty actions only grabbed his attention, and your question went ignored. levi strolled to your desk and pressed his hand on the wooden top, leaning nonchalantly. he reached out for the picture frame you were desperate to hide, and picked it up. you looked up at him as he observed it with a small smirk.

“tch. cute,” he commented before propping the frame back on the desk. you hurriedly slammed it facedown again, mumbling a sheepish ‘thanks.’ you continued to stare up at him as his eyes looked over your desk. his attention turned to you, his eyes falling onto your pink-tinted features.

“want some tea?” you offered.

some time later, you and levi found yourselves lounging on opposite sides of your bed, both sitting with legs criss crossed. he held a large tea cup, sipping quietly at his second drink as you let him in on some gossip about your roommate’s friend’s cousin. you don’t even know how you got to this point, but after offering him a drink and busying yourself, your nerves simmered. it felt a lot more comfortable after that.

“and then they said that she said that he got caught sexting not one, not two... but twelve other girls. then his girlfriend tried to burn his house down. and now she’s in prison for attempted arson,” you finished. levi lowered his cup after taking a long sip, and continued to stare with a blank expression. but despite his bored appearance, he was rather invested in this story.

“that’s rough,” he commented.

“i know right?” you replied as you picked up your phone. you clicked to see the time. “jeez, it’s already midnight.”

“tch, is that your way of kicking me out?” levi asked, smiling ever so lightly.

“unfortunately, yeah. i have an 8am class tomorrow,” you said, putting a little pout on your lip. “we should do this again, though. feels nice to just hang out with someone.”

“isn’t that what we’ve been doing in the library?” he questioned.

“i don’t count me making you help me with shakespeare as hanging out,” you explained.

“that’s fair.” he shrugged.

“also, this is the first time you initiated being around me,” you boasted, feeling pretty satisfied with yourself. “that means you think i’m fun.”

“i never said that.”

“well, you being here says otherwise. sooo...”

“whatever, brat.”

levi stood from his spot on the end of your bed, handing you his empty cup. you stood as well, following him to the door.

“i guess you’re okay,” he offered. “this was okay.”

“that translates to, omg y/n is the best, they’re sooo much fun,” you teased, nudging your elbow against his. “anyways, i guess i’ll see you in class on wednesday.”

“i guess you will,” he replied plainly, raising his hand to touch a strand of your hair, putting you in a state of shock. your mouth gaped slightly as you studied him curiously. after a few moments of silence, levi abruptly started leaning forward, your eyes widening. before you could react, his lips were against yours.

is this actually happening? you wondered. oh, my god it’s actually happening. this is real.

it took you no time to respond to the kiss, your eyes quickly fluttering shut. you hadnt been kissed a long time, and you remembered first kisses always being a little awkward as you both had to adjust to the way the other’s lips moved. but there was no awkwardness. there was no needing to adjust; it was perfect.

his movements were surprisingly fast and needy, his hands moving to hold your jaw as both of your quiet, desperate noises were swallowed. your hands came up to grip his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. you could feel little tingles everywhere he touched you, and a knot starting to form low in your stomach. you felt his tongue slip into your mouth as he moved his hands down to hold your waist, arching your back slightly. levi started to redirect you, pushing your back against the door, causing a loud thud against the wood.

“y/n? what was that?” a voice from the other side of the door called. your eyes flew open, seeing his steel eyes already looking back at you.

“shit!” you hissed. “my roommate.” you pulled your face away and took a deep breath, your hands still holding levi’s neck, and his still gripping your waist. you gazed at him for a moment, admiring his features. you hurriedly leaned in again, giving him one final, quick kiss.

“sorry! hold on!” you finally responded to your roommate as they started turning the doorknob. the two of you let one another go, quietly stepping away from the door that started to open.

“you won’t believe the night i-“ your roommate started, but freezing once they saw levi. their mouth dropped open and they glanced at you, shocked.

“sorry, he was just leaving,” you said, rushing to push levi through the open door. you followed him out, closing the door behind you. you sighed loudly.

“i’m sorry about that,” you told him quietly. he shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets. “i knew you liked me.”

“you’re okay,” levi replied, his eyes holding a warmth you had never seen from him before. “i’ll see you on wednesday.”

“yeah, yeah, see you wednesday,” you said, grinning as he turned around, making his way down the hallway.

[secretsniper3]

Part 3: Well Hung

My Master was right to lock my pussy behind a wall of steel, I constantly woke up to find my hands caressing the fluid that would run around the belt, my need evident and throbbing clear to me but in my belt there was nothing I could do but roll over and go back to sleep. 8am, my usual routine is stopped right out the gate by my belt, clearly meant to skip it Im greeted by my Master in the doorway, I stand completely naked save the belt locked to my hips. He steps towards me and tell me to not bother getting dressed, and puts a latex hood over my head, my hair black now (did he dye my hair overnight?) pushing through the hood to form my ponytail as he laces me into my latex face. Arms placed behind my back im cuffed in place and a posture collar locked around my neck with a leash attached. Following the leash im led into the main hall of my Masters home and I see something new, something that wasnt there last night. My Master clearly worked through the night to complete this device, largest device Iv ever seen he takes me into the middle and unleashes me. Locking a chain to my posture collar more restraints are added all over my body, my upper and lower arms get binders locked on with chains, wrists too, Waist gets 1 and thighs, shins and ankles for their own. unlocking my hands from behind my back my Master steps back, marvelling at his work.

Holding a large remote he presses a button and all the slack in my chains vanish, held tight by the chains my actions are clearly not mine to decide. Spinning a dial Im lifted into the air 3 feet, and pivot forward, my arms move behind my back and meet elbow to elbow as my knees bend back and my feet meet my hands and Im amazing this device can pull you so smoothly. Stepping towards me and raising me up to meet his gaze my Master places his hand on my cheek and with a smile moves to remove my chastity belt, with my wet sex exposed to him, fluid running faster and harder with each passing second he takes a deep breath, savouring my scent as I try meekly to move my hands a little lower to cup my pussy. My Master simply puts a finger on my labia to draw a instant reaction from my body, a gasp and a moan follow as he rubs up and down my lips carefully with a smile on his face. My focus is broken by a knock at the door, my Master going to answer I see a woman standing there talking to my Master. She is a tall woman, the high heels helping with that, a long, black latex dress drapes down her slender thighs as she gazes over at me. Ruby red lips and beautiful blue hair running freely down her back, closing the door my Master leads the woman to me and says aloud, “this is the Slave i was telling you about.” the woman's eyes widen, her red lips part and my eyes are drawn to them as she speaks, “for how long can i play?” “how long are you in town for?” my Master responds with a chuckle.

Licking her lips making them shine flawlessly as my Master takes a seat infront of me, the woman circles around, like a bird of prey having found its next meal she scans my entire body with a hunger in her eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. A touch of her finger ends the shiver before it reaches my sex, all my focus is on that 1 finger, tracing its way over my limbs, seemingly scaring my flesh with its burning hot touch Im sure to melt no matter what this woman does, eyes flying to my Master as he sits with a drink in hand with his eyes glued to mine. My pussy making its need known to all in the room as the puddle that was small moments ago grows larger by the second as the finger moves down my waist and over my smooth, firm ass and down my thigh. Clit throbbing as my pussy spasms at the sensory overload at just a mere finger I hear my Master say aloud “im keeping her in denial for now, think you can make her pussy even hotter than it already is, you be my guest.” All I hear behind me is the hum of a hungry animal as the finger loops over my thigh and scratches up the inside, drawing a line in my skin leading right to my puffy lips. Right there, just a little bit further!

Pain strikes my pussy as her hand comes down on my lips, a shriek of surprise and pain bursts from my lips as my pussy shakes in the aftermath. Finger still moving, painfully slow Im met with another wet slap to my pussy, and then just as suddenly a finger dives deep into my pussy. My gasp of pain elevates into a gasp of joy and bliss, my drooling pussy is getting action and I cant believe it! The finger withdraws with a wet pop as I hear her laughter behind me.

“Come now my dear, youd think id really let you cum when your Master wants your pussy denied of such pleasures?” thrusting a finger inside again for a moment before removing it a second time I know she is, quite literally pushing my buttons as her finger presses the only button that counts. The button that stands out, big and red and throbbing with need, a simple glancing touch is all it took to get my body right to the very tip of the edge a simple breeze would push me over, my eyes shooting into my skull as my brain tries desperately to comprehend what I just experienced. She waits till I have calmed down enough then repeats the glancing brush, sending me back to the peak. Looking ahead my Masters chair is empty, looking around for him I hear him laugh behind me as I hear him give the succubus something, what could he have given her. I am greeted with a smile on his face as he looks at me on his way back to his seat.

“Enjoy the ride, Slave.” is all Master says as my urethra is jabbed with something long and hard, my juices serving to lubricate it so it slides in easily as she proceeds to sound me. The pain quickly being overtaken by pleasure as Im fucked in a hole I never considered fucking before, but shes watching me. Pulling it out before I crest the ridge of pleasure Im left to moan and beg for release, my Master stands and grabs a blindfold and a spider gag, taking away my vision and ability to speak he takes great pleasure in my loss of senses. I dont need eyes to know hes hard, and hell probably use me sooner or later.

My clit still throbbing dangerously close to the edge the woman starts to caress it with, what is that sensation? oh god no! its a brush, she circles around my inner labia with the bristles of the thin brush and I cant stop her at all, she eases the head of the brush against my clits hood and it slips between them, rubbing my clit at its very core removing it the second before I would otherwise cum hard! This torture would carry on for some time of painfully hard denials at the last second before my Master pushes a button and flips me over in the air.

My breasts now facing the roof and the device that holds me begins to pull my neck up, rising to meet the demand my mouth presses into the woman's pussy. She is done playing with my cunt, now Im to play with hers, and she isnt forbidden to cum so within minutes of my talented tongues assault on her my face is glazed with her juices but she still holds strong. Clearly seeking more from my mouth she presses down and my tongue dives in deep, tasting the woman's pussy as her cum drools into my mouth and down my throat. Her warm folds locked around my mouth as she grinds my face into her pussy, cumming again and again.

“shes very talented with her tongue, and her pussy wont stop shaking, i can see her clit from here!” she says with orgasmic bliss in her voice

“i know how to break a slave” My Master replies, and he isnt wrong. Im broken, his plaything to do with what he wants.

The woman stops grinding into my open mouth and my face is coated in a thick layer of her juices, I start to think its over as my Master takes my mouth for his own use. Driving his hard cock down my throat my tongue naturally wraps around the shaft as I accept my Masters meat in my throat, thrust after thrust Im rewarded with a hot burst that flows quickly down my throat. Removing my blindfold Im treated to a sight I havent seen in a long time, my Masters cock inside a pussy. pumping in and out, oh how I wish it was my cunt he was plowing as he thrusts harder into the woman and her back arches in erotic bliss, my Masters hand gripping her blue hair as he continues to fuck her to orgasm. Im treated to a first class show as my Master and the woman continue thrusting into eachother, orgasm after orgasm they wont stop taunting me. The woman constantly bragging about how good it feels to cum knowing my pussy is denied and having my clit throb making it all the worse!

So there I hang, fixed in the middle of the room watching my Master and the woman fuck to orgasm over and over again, I cant even look away, their moans, their screams, flooding my ears and my pussy with need! They finally stop their exhibition match at my expense and my Master reveals my new belt, it has a long slick metal dildo where my asshole would sit, and another thinner pole for my urethra, nothing for my needy box though. I moan helplessly as they both set to lock my body back in its cage. Flipping me over and standing me upright, the woman gives me a deep kiss, tasting her own juices on my lips as her tongue fucks mine with gusto and my Master escorts her to the door. I manage to make out “we should do this again soon” as they kiss on the cheek and she leaves me to my denial with my Master.

Locking my feet in ballet heels before removing my restraints I am left to wobble on jelly legs as my arms are locked in a strict reverse prayer binder with elbows meeting in the small of my back, he says this is just beginning and at that thought my pussy clenches a little. A corset around my waist to make breathing more difficult when combined with my latex mask and posture collar, blindfolded once more Im left in the dark as my neck gets yanked and I lurch forward in my toe crushing boots. Stepping forward a few paces Im forced to my knees as Im pulled over and down, my Masters got a hard cock again and its my life's mission to sate its lust as I take it in my mouth and down my throat. My Master not even helping me as my latex coated head bobs up and down on his member and he cums down my throat. Pulling me back he takes in my appearance. “you look amazing if i do say so myself.” he says with a smile, I can hear his joy in his words as he stands me back up and turns me around and with another yank, Im walking again.

Hard to focus on where hes leading me to, he keeps rearranging things while I sleep and my inserts are only adding to my frustration. The pain in my feet far from over as the inserts inside me are fixed to the belt, every step making them sway side to side inside me, though not enough to make me cum, I cant cum from anal or he wouldn't have put 1 in my ass. Continuing to lead me into a room he fixes me in place and pushes a tube in my mouth, unscrewing my urethra and pushing a tube up into my bladder. Pressing a few buttons Im forced to walk forward as he laughs beside me. Its a treadmill! With no way to get off as Im completely secure and forced to march on in silent obedience. Unable to draw breath through the tube my nose is uncovered and fluid pours down the tube and into my mouth, Im hesitant at first but my Master commands me to drink and so I do it since it is “your lunch after all” he said as he turns and leaves me to your walk. the fluid running into my mouth periodically consists of oatmeal, vitamins and minerals and 3 types of aphrodisiacs. Every step hurts my poor enslaved feet and legs but what could I do besides walk on the path my Master has set for me?

2 hours later my breathing is ragged and hoarse as my Master returns to stop my walking, unhooking me and leading me back to the lounge he lays me down and frees my toes from their prison. I moan as the boots slide off. Removing my belt from my waist he sits me down in the bathroom and tells me to relieve myself. following his command I do as Im told and he cleans up after me, reapplying my belt with little resistance as Im exhausted now and very tired from my walk, he leads me back to my room and lays me down, releasing my arms and removing my corset and latex hood he rolls me over and with a kiss on my forehead I drop straight to sleep. He pats my ass knowing that my pussy is safe behind that wall of cold steel and goes to set up the house for the party tomorrow, knowing I will be asleep the rest of the day and through the night. My Master always knows how to put me to sleep.

[amindofstone]

Match up, No. 4

@alexnuxx said:

Hi there. So..

my mbti is intp 5w6. I am chill and lazy but also calm. I am a more serious person, but sometimes i laugh in inappropriate or stupid situations and I also like goofy people. I have a big problem about losting in my thoughts and it's hard to get my attention because of that.

All my clothes are black but most of the time I choose either elegant style or oversized clothes to feel comfortable. I have a black mullet and green-brown eyes, i wear glasses and i'm skinny because it's hard for me to gain weight.

I think it's hard for me not to like something because I usually ignore it (maybe really sensitive people cuz i dont know what should i do when someone cries. Ah, and really arrogant people get on my nerves) , but I like reading, listening to music, drawing, sleeping and eating.

Ah, and im 18yo.

Thanks and good luck<3

a/n: Hey sweety. I´m glad you requested. When I read your request I couldn´t help but realize that you have some traits that resemble the one of mine. Like getting lost in thoughts, being chill and calm. Wearing either elegant or oversized clothes, listening to music, sleeping. I honestly never thought I would find someone that resembles me in so many aspects. Anyways I hope you enjoy this little work of mine. If there is anything that bothers you please do not hesitate to tell me so I can make it better. Other than that happy reading.

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): Maybe grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I´m still improving in every aspect (Please have mercy on that.)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: !!!

· After a bit of thinking (and making two other match ups for you I absolutely wasn´t satisfied with. Like I was about to smash my phone against the wall but then I remembered that it was expansive as fck and a Bday gift. So yeah here we are… *crys again. Now after evrything is done I regret not pairing you up with my first choice. But I thought you might not like it... Just like now.... *screams internally) I decided to pair you up with Beckman. I know! I know. BUT HEAR ME OUT AND GIVE THIS MAN (and me please) A CHANCE. I´ll do my best to make you at öeast like it a tiny bit. Just give it a chance. Pretty please?

· Alright. *breathes in, *nervous, *breaths out. Author talks to herself “Are you dumb?! Get it to work!”

· Like I said I'm gonna pair you up with a man that is as feared as his captain. He's the first mate called Benn Beckman

· Beckman has a quiet and laid back personality with a quite serious facet. And exactly that was what got you two to get to know each other.

· You were working at the bar of the island the red hair pirates docked on. They were having a good time drinking and celebrating as always.

· You were preparing a customer a drink when two man sat at the counter and asked for a beer. Slowly with minutes passing more man surrounded the two and caused a positive vibe. They were talking, laughing and having a good time. Once in a while you were taking their orders had a short chat with a red haired man but that's it. Not long after you realized something that caught your eye and made you smile. You went to your coworker and long time best friend and told her to look at the man with the white hair and the cigar.

· She followed your description and let her eyes wonder around the place until she found him. But she didn't quiet get what made you laugh so she asked you with a confused look.

· “You always tell me that I have a serious expression but look at him. His friends are laughing and celebrating while he sits right at the middle and looks like he got forced to be there.”

· Your words made your coworker laugh and get back to work with a huge grin on her face. You didn´t mind at all and were happy that you could make her laugh when they called for a waitress to probably order more beer. But that’s when you regret making fun of him. Your friend started to laugh and made the red haired man look at her confused. When she got a hold of herself she pointed a finger at you and seemed to tell them something that made all of the men laugh but one.

· Your cheeks turned red and you literally wanted to run out of the bar to hide under a rock. But you couldn´t and just turned around with your back facing them while their laughter echoed in your head.

· Your face was red and when touched one would have thought you had a fever. When your coworker came back still laughing she hugged you and said that none of them is made at you but rather amused by your words. Mostly the man you were talking about. Towards the end of your shift the man with a neutral looking gaze was still lingering at the bar with his friends. After the incident you didn´t dare looking in his direction and did your work at the back of the bar. You stepped out of the bar and were about to walk down the streets when someone tapped your shoulder and made you turn around.

· “I´m sorry to bother you but do you mind telling me your name?”

· You were confused and scared to death but the question of the tall man in front of you made you wonder why he wanted to know that so you asked. But he simply smiled at you lovingly and said: “I would love to know the name of the woman that seems to resemble me so much.”

· That was the moment you to actually got to know each other. Until now his captain and the entire crew he was part of made fun of him of the way you and him got together

· Beckman is a quiet and serious looking man that only talks when needed. It´s not that he doesn´t like being around people it´s just his calm and peaceful nature that gets him to be in his cabin while being busy reading a book. And since you joined the red hair pirates he´s not always that alone in his cabin

· Beckman loves your pure chill nature. You´re not like the woman his crew mates sometimes bring over or meet up with. You are laid back and honest. Sometimes to honest that causes Shanks to turn into a pouting 6 years old but that’s fine because the friendship you have with Shanks balances the calm and peaceful relationship you have with your partner Beckman You three have a great relationship with each other since you seem to be a mixture of Beckman and Shanks that makes you get along with the both of them so well. But also the crew thinks that you are the female version of them

· Dating Beckman is like walking through a forest in a warm sunny autumn morning

· He seem to be cold and always serious but he´s not. He is a caring gentleman that won´t let you carry a bag or even you coat.

· He always has a hand on the lower area of your back while walking through a island

· Every night he would ask you if you need anything or planed to do anything in the next day to make sure to schedule his day after your plans

· At the morning he would always ask you if you slept well and if you had a dream or not. And if you had one he would make you tell him about it because he loves listening to you

· There are moments he would find himself staring at you with a tiny smile on his lips that would make his captain tease the hell out of him when he see it

· The moments I am referring to are when you´re leaning against the railing of the ship with a dreamy look on your face that would signal him that you´re once again lost in your thoughts. And in those moments he would make sure no one is around so he could come and hug you from behind while nuzzling his face in your hair, asking you what you were thinking about. You would smile and take his hands in yours to intertwine them and tell him “It´s nothing.” When you were actually thinking of a peaceful life with him somewhere were no ne would find you or know you. Just the two of you.

· And each time he would smile and say that he would someday find out about that little “nothing” that was able to put a smile on your lips when it should be him doing that

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

On assumptions, understanding, belonging and love.

Moments in Martin's journey understanding other people and finally himself.

or

Martin's journey in understanding, accepting and loving his asexuality.

a/n: some quick notes: Jon is sex repulsed, Martin is somewhere between neutral and favorable. While Tim and Sasha dont exactlty say they are aro they are! Jon is non-binary and uses he/they pronouns and i desperatly wanted to explore that but this is already twice as long than intended-

also while I am (half) Bolivian and speak spanish I am not at all fluent in Tamil so if there is any mistakes lmk! hope you all enjoy!

-------------------

Sasha had convinced them to go get drinks together, as it had been a rather stressful couple of weeks since Martin came back from the siege of his apartment by Jane Prentiss.

Sleeping in the archives was not exactly helping the situation for Martin, or Jon for that matter.

So they decided to go to a pub and try to force a sense of normality everyone really needed.

Martin was having a great time, with the relative calm and safety he hadn’t had in a while, even Jon had something like a smile playing on his lips as Tim told a story from one of his university mates that had accidentally thrown his roommate's engagement ring down a drain. 

Martin zoned out for a bit, enjoying the pleasant buzz of the alcohol and his friends laughter and Jon’s animated movements that indicated that he was talking about something he actually found interesting.

 Jon was apparently telling his own story with some relation to engagement, something about a girl at a wedding that had acted strangely, Martin caught something about “purposely spilling wine on her dress”, which Martin agreed was quite wierd. 

“She was totally trying to woo you, Jon.” Sasha said as Jon got to the bit where they had to help her find some clean towels in a storage closet. 

 “I assumed she was just having a rather hard time,” Jon said, seemingly only now thinking of the implications of spilling wine on your dress and then faking needing help, to be fair to Jon that was a very weird tactic to pull and Martin would not have put two and two together either.

“Well what did you do in that closet then?” Tim asked with an incredibly over the top suggestive look. 

Jon pulled a face then, Martin thought it looked rather endearing really with his nose all scrunched up and his eyes narrowed, but he was clearly uneasy. 

“I don’t- I don’t really do… that sort of thing.”

Martin snapped back in the moment, feeling a weird but familiar anxiety in his stomach as the conversation lulled. He felt rather protective for a moment, instinctively knowing this seemed important. This turned out to be rather unnecessary, as Tim spoke up again quickly.

“Oh,” He and then, earnestly, ”I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Jon.” 

And then Jon smiled, properly, like he didn’t often and waved his hand dismissively but pleased.

“Thank you, well it's not like you could have known that, but anyway as I was saying-” 

 It was but a moment, but it stuck with Martin for a bit, mulling it over and not really understanding his own reaction.

 Eventually Martin settled back into the pleasant buzz, enjoying his friends chatter and Jon’s over exaggerated hand gestures.

-

It was an uncharacteristically slow day in the archives, not a worm in sight and Martin had only a bit of boring research to do for a very clearly fake statement.

Martin usually tried to be nice about it but this one featured a guy named “Richard Dickson” and was entirely about a fever dream someone had about a haunted accordion, he had listened to the recording that Jon had emailed him and it sounded like even he was having a very hard time trying not to laugh at it.

“Who comes up with this stuff?” Sasha said as she handed him back the statement. “Sure, I know we are being attacked by a worm woman but I really hope we can draw the line at haunted accordions that play spooky renditions of High School Musical and a prophetic dream guy called Dick Dickson.”

She was laughing too and Martin thought that she looked better than she had in awhile, it was nice, seeing her like this. 

“Well at least I won’t have to stay extra time for the research of this one, I would go home early but.” he shrugged and gestured in a you know the whole staying here cause of a worm woman situation, she gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well I am leaving early, got a very fun evening planned.” she said with a wink.

She had looked really rather excited and somewhat giddy all day, Martin realized. 

“Oh,” Martin said, “Who is the lucky person then?”

Sasha looked at him puzzled for a few seconds, slowly blinking at him, then the penny dropped.

“What? Oh no, I mean- Tim I guess, we usually have a sort of movie night every once in a while, this one is extra special though, because I found this book about the categorisation of demons, it’s partially in latin? Tim said he would help me look into it. ”

Martin felt his face heat up, feeling the urge to profusely apologize, Sasha continued however:

“It’s not like that though,” she said with a rather annoyed look, and then somewhat softer, “I am not really a dating kind of person, you know?”

Martin wasn’t sure he fully understood what she meant, but that was fine and she was clearly still very excited, so he relaxed.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have assumed, I do hope it’s not one of those books Jon goes on about, they aren't exactly...friendly.”

Her eyes lit up once again.

“Oh it's definitely not a Leitner! I do look out for that sort of thing, the interesting thing about the book is though-”

And she went on for a bit, the moment somewhat unimportant in a way but it still churned in Martin’s mind. 

-

Things with Sasha...shifted after the Jane Prentiss attack, everyone had different ways to cope with trauma of course, Martin knew that.

Maybe that was the thing really, while Tim, Jon and Martin himself were having a hard time processing (even if Tim and Jon refused to properly acknowledge it) Sasha seemed fine, a few weeks of being shaken maybe and she was now back to her regular old self. 

She even had a new boyfriend, Martin had no idea why that irked him so much.

He’d said as much to Tim, who was sitting next to him while both slacked off from their jobs on the stairs to the back courtyard of the institute (why there even was a courtyard was one of the great mysteries of this place).

Tim looked uncharacteristically solemn, seldom did he let his walls down like this. 

“I thought I was in love with her you know,” he said rather suddenly, “I mean we’ve been friends for years now and there was- is no one I would rather spend time with, so I mean if not her then- then who?”

He sighed and Martin made comforting noise, trying not to break whatever spell had made Tim genuinely speak about his feelings. 

“I mean I figured out I wasn’t in love with her before this whole...thing, we talked about it, I think? Some stuff is hazy. Just- I shouldn’t be jealous you know? She is allowed to have a boyfriend.”

“Your feelings are valid no matter what they are.” Martin said seriously.

Tim sighed and leaned into Martin, who enveloped him in his arms.

“Sure, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.” 

And well there wasn’t much Martin could say about that.

After a bit of comfortable hugging silence Tim spoke up.

“Maybe her boyfriend is a vampire though, I totally get to be jealous about a vampire.”

“Tim don’t say that.” he said, trying to hide a smile. 

“What?” Tim said, pretending to be serious, “Everything is possible Martin, worm women and all that, I could obviously not compete with a vampire and their sexy glittering skin.”

Martin shook his head, not able to contain his laughter anymore.

“Can’t believe you are exposing yourself as someone who watched Twilight.” he said.

Tim smiled wickedly up at him from where he was still half cuddled into him.

“The fact that you got that reference exposes you in turn,” he said, sticking his tongue out, “Check mate.”

“Touché.” 

Then Tim stood up and said: 

“Well, Time to go back to our trans containment zone.”

“The fact that we just happen to be trans and were transferred to the archives is a coincidence.”

To that Tim only answered: “Trans-ferred Martin, can’t you see? You cannot call that a coincidence.” winked and back in through the door he went. 

Martin let out an exaggerated long suffering sigh.

Back inside they walked to their respective desks.

“Well lets hope work gets lets shit.” Tim said. “That’s such a low bar, and yet.”

“Paciencia y fé.” Martin said, which was in his repertoire of spanish phrases that just didn’t pack the same punch in english along with “ya pasara” and “digamos que si”.

Tim shrugged.

“Don’t think whatever grandmother made up that phrase could have imagined it being applied to our situation.”

“And yet we still have to hope for it to get better don’t we, see it works.”

Tim flashed him one last smile as he sat at his desk and Martin went to put on the kettle.

-

Martin had assumed Jon’s I-don’t-do-that-sort-of-thing included dating as well and it hadn’t bothered him really, he enjoyed clinging to his crush to Jon like a small steady comfort, even if he knew it wasn’t actually going to amount to anything, there was no harm in day dreaming after all and Martin was perfectly capable of caring about him as a friend too, it was harmless.

Of course the fact that he now knew Jon had been staying at his ex-girlfriends place and the fact that Jon might actually date people didn’t really change anything.

At least that is what Martin tried to tell himself as he shakily poured two cups of tea and mustered the courage to walk to Jon’s office. 

And he was at least a little right, even if Jon dated people, even if Jon would return his feelings (which Martin really did not let himself dwell on), these were particularly unfavourable circumstances to start a relationship, there was the matter that neither of them was able to string together a conversation, because the mundane ones sounded so inane and hollow and the important ones required being genuine and vulnerable and they might just be somewhat allergic to that. 

And there was the matter of the impending apocalypse they had to stop.

Martin knocked on the door and he heard a soft: “Come in, Martin.” from the other side of the door. 

The office was a mess as always and Jon looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and had aged about ten years in the last few months. 

But Martin’s breath caught in his throat anyway because, as was usual for Jon now, he also looked just a little more...comfortable, as you could anyway. They were wearing a hoodie with cats on it that was just slightly too big and a long flowy patterned skirt. 

Jon clearly caught martin staring because he ran his hand through his hair a bit self-consciously and said: “I know it goes against dress code, but I think you get a pass after you get kidnapped by an evil circus.” 

“Oh I mean, you look nice, I mean it looks nice on you. I didn’t mean to uhm, stare?”

“It was- I was just joking.”

“Oh.” 

They just stared at each other, painful silence falling over them. 

Jon broke the silence clearing their throat.

“So... you brought tea?” They said.

“Yeah, it's for you.” Martin said and immediately cringed because who else would he have brought Jon’s favorite chai exactly the way he always takes it.

Jon smiled though, reaching out to take the cup from him. Their hands brushed just a little and Martin's brain briefly shut down and he realised that maybe he should admit to himself he was really hopeless and too far gone.

That is though, how he ended up stupidly staring at Jon’s hands and how he spotted the shiny black ring on the middle finger of his right hand. 

“Thats a nice ring, don’t think I have ever seen you wear jewelry before.” 

That seemed to snap the tension out of the moment a little, Jon looked down at the ring and smiled a little.

“It's an ace ring,” they said, “I used to wear it a lot a while back, not sure why I fell out of the habit, but now I guess I think I am allowed whatever small comfort I can get.”

They were looking at the ring and then at Martin. 

Martin wanted to freeze the image right there, at the small not quite guilty smile Jon had as he looked up at him, at the feeling that things were OK, good even just for a bit.

Then something fell off Jon's desk and they both startled, flinching at the sudden loud noise. 

All the worry and tension flooded back into the room immediately.

“Right.” Jon said. “Did you need anything else?” 

Martin wasn’t sure how to even answer that.

So he just shook his head and started to leave.

Just before he was about to turn around Jon called his name, Martin turned around to face Jon that seemed to be fighting for the words he wanted to say.

“Yes, Jon?”

“Thank you.”

Martin smiled a sad smile.

“Anytime.”

-

It’t not that Martin had never heard the word asexual before, or that he didn’t know Jon was ace, he’d just never dwelled much on the actual meaning of it.

He had however never heard of ace rings before and he gave it a google for curiosity's sake. 

A black ring usually wore on the right middle finger to indicate the wearer is asexual (“ace”). 

It seemed nice to Martin, small token of your connection to a community, of course his curiosity did not end there, he had assumed previously Jon didn’t do relationships at all, and if he did, what did asexual mean then?

He found out rather quickly that asexuality was about sexual attraction, and aromantic was another thing all together, he also found out that asexuality didn’t mean a person couldn't have a libido, or like sex.

And maybe he just stood there staring at his laptop screen for a while knowing that sexual attraction had never really made sense to him, maybe it felt like something clicked.

And so knowing he definitely did not have the time or the emotional energy to deal with it he quickly closed his laptop, he had an apocalypse to stop and a boss to dispose of after all.

-

Martin was trying very hard to read Hija de la fortuna by Isabel Allende, every other sentence he sighed and grabbed his phone to look up a word the meaning of which he didn’t know.

It was frustrating, he once had been almost fluid in spanish as a child, but then his dad had left and his mother wasn’t able to and didn’t want to maintain his fluency. He hadn’t exactly had time or money for classes either and so now he attempted to regain some of it by watching movies and reading books.

It was not just the language of course that made it hard, Martin was so entirely full of worry. It was rare he got to spend a day in his flat these days, usually cooped up in the Institute hiding from something, or at the side of Jon's hospital bed talking to him, reading to him on occasion.

The anxiety, the fear, the pain, it had festered into Martin, the tiniest sounds made him jump and even when he got tiny little moments in which he wanted to, needed to, rest he still felt like a watched prey animal, or the full force of grief threatening to crush him.

Today he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, nothing remarkable had happened in a handful of days and it made him uneasy, he was waiting for Melanie to call him about a new attack, he was waiting for Peter to summon him with a weird cryptic request. 

And you would think that with all this other worry he wouldn’t be fretting about his sexuality.

But apparently there was plenty of anxiety to go around for all the areas in his life and he just couldn’t get that moment, months ago now, out of his head.

He sighed at set the book aside, grabbing his phone and opening google.

He felt like he was 14 again asking his mother what gay meant and getting only a nasty look in return, or 17 and anxiously looking for a book about being trans in the library. 

It was silly to look it up and read articles about how to know you were ace, because he already knew somewhere, but he desperately needed the confirmation.

The third or so blog post he opened was about a woman in her 50’s that had recently figured out she was ace.

Its freeing  the article read it’s freeing to be who you are and to understand yourself better, even if you aren’t sure, its OK, it will be OK.

Martin was only crying a little, he laid down his phone and stared at the wall.

He thought about how he had never quite fit, he wasn’t quite english, not with the people asking him where he had come from or asking his mother as a child where she had gotten him from. He wasn’t Bolivian either, he had never been there, his spanish was limited, he could only cook about three and a half recipes that the internet had taught him.

He had never been a woman and he would never fit what society thought of as a man. And what that exactly meant for his relationships.

He never understood other people, but he never thought he was bad enough to seek help for it.

Sexual attraction was vague and he didn’t get it, but in the few relationships he had had in the past he hadn’t minded sex, he enjoyed watching a nice movie together just as much but there was a nicety to it, especially taking care of someone else, having them unravel infront of you. And he had found it weird that he didn’t want anything back, that he felt uncomfortable sometimes.

He imagined he meant he was wrong, like with everything else Martin Blackwood also couldn’t do that right. 

But maybe there was something here, in Martins corner of human experience, in the small stack of books about Bolivia that he read, in the trans pin on his backpack and patches he sewed onto his clothes, in calling himself gay man even if that didn’t cover the nuances because it felt good, in the chew necklace that hung around his neck because it eased his anxiety.

Just like all of those things, Martin was ace, he wasn’t wrong or broken he was just different and there were all those other people who were different too and it was nice. 

And Martin was crying because of the overwhelming sense of belonging, and because he finally understood Tim when he had once asked “But what does romance even mean, Martin?” and he would never get to tell him, because this is yet another thing he and Jon could have talked about if the world had been kinder to them, this is something he could be talking about to Jon if he wasn’t in a coma.

But even in these miserable circumstances Martin made sense to himself a little more and no one could take that away from him.

-

The past week in the safehouse had been a whirlwind of emotions, but both Jon and Martin were trying, trying hard to heal, to learn how to feel safe again, to love each other.

For all that trying they hadn’t talked about it much, it was hard still, but Martin was quietly holding on to the hope that they would get there.

Today had been quiet, with the biggest setback being that Jon had found it hard to find all the ingredients for the sambar he wanted to make for dinner. 

“I know it won't be like my Pāṭṭi (பாட்டி) taught me, but you would think they would at least have coconut.”

Martin found their grumpiness adorable, reveled in the mundaneness of this worry. And he hadn’t been able to contain his laughter when they finally had found coconut and Jon had held it up triumphantly.

The food had been delicious and now they sat on the couch, it was hard Martin craved touch so dearly but it was like stepping into hot water after standing on ice for a while and Jon flinched so often, not used to not being hurt and sometimes Martin’s unnaturally cold skin brought up unpleasant memories. 

They could have wallowed in guit and yearning, but they were both stubborn, and so even if it took a while and millions of slow movements and asking if something was OK they managed. 

So it was that Jon had his legs draped over Martin's lap, enough to bring comfort, not too much as to be overwhelming, and their hands were lightly on top of eachother.

Jon seemed pensive, but not worried, Martin shot him a questioning glance.

“We went at this in such a sideward way,” Jon said, “I mean we live together now but we haven’t really...talked about it. We never- we never asked?”

There was a beat of silence where Martin just looked at Jon and then a smile spread over Martin's face.

“Jonathan Sims do you want to ask me out?”

Jon averted their gaze in a way that meant even though Martin couldn’t see it they were definitely blushing.

Martin just couldn’t contain his delighted laughter.

“Must you laugh at me,” Jon said, faking offence, he was also smiling now.

A bit of seriousness returned to his voice as he spoke up again.

“I don’t care that we have done it all backwards Martin,” they said, “But, I love you.”

And as he said that Martin stared at him, mouth agape and his heart thundering in his chest, he lost his ability in any language. Jon said it firmly and securely and Martin really didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all the feelings he had, Jon continued however. 

“And we don’t have to do anything but it just feels like we are dancing around several conver- Martin? Are you alright?”

It was only then Martin realised he was crying and he could only ask:

“You love me?” 

Not because he didn’t know, but because sometimes you just need the confirmation.

Jon squeezed his hand gently.

“Of course I do.”

Martin wanted so badly to answer him, to reproach but he couldn’t, not yet, instead he blurted.

“May I kiss you?”

Jon smiled, a tad nervously.

“That's sort of what I wanted to talk about,” they said, “boundaries?”

Martin understood the necessity of such conversations he really did, but it did not mean he was going to enjoy them.

It did come as a surprise however that Jon suddenly got very nervous and said.

“I mean- I just- I am ace, Martin.”

Martin cokced his head in confusion and said:

“Yeah, I know.”

Jon mirrored his confused look.

“You do?” and then more sour, “You listened to the tape?”

And fine Martin admitted to himself, maybe they should talk more.

“No? You told me, like ages ago.”

Jon laughed, relieved, happy.

“Sorry,” he said, “Ironically my memory is foggy. It has been a rough couple of...years.”

Martin hummed something of affirmation, because he also knew this seemed like a nice moment to come out, and he felt the very familiar anxiety in his belly. Idiotic anxiety because Jon was also ace and there were no stakes in this situation at all. 

Maybe it was just the fact that he had never said it aloud.

Martin heard himself speak:

“I think I am too,” and he could hear how stupidly nervous he sounded, “ace, I mean.”

There was a vague ringing in his ear and if he had been in the position to he might have just run out of the room, apparently facing down unknowable monsters didn’t make coming out easier.

His fear was cut down by the fact that Jon was absolutely beaming at him.

“That's great!” they said, “I mean not that I would have minded if- but it is nice to have someone understand, that's all.”

It was, it was amazing to have Jon here smiling up at him holding his hand and understanding him.

“It really is,” Martin said, then gently bringing the back of Jon’s hand to his cheek and leaning into it, “Doesn’t mean we don’t have to talk boundaries though.” 

Jon smiled at the small gesture and then said serious:

“I don’t want to have sex, ever.” 

Martin knew it sounded like people had tried to debate them on it before and it made his chest ache.

“I know,” he answered and then because honesty was key, “I am not adverse to it, but obviously if you don’t want to, we won’t, ever.”

Jon sat up a bit then, lifting his hand from Martins and gently cupping his cheek. Martin's pulse quickened, his hand moving almost automatically to Jon’s arm.

“How do you feel about kissing?” he asked.

“It's nice,” Jon said, smiling a bit cheekily leaning forward,  “So long as it isn’t tongue kissing that is.”

Martin leaned forward until their breaths mingled at their lips where all but touching.

“May I kiss you then?” He asked, breathless.

Jon could only nod and they both leaned forward the last inch.

Time must have stopped for a bit as they kissed, gentle and full of a thousand promises. 

They both moved away from the kiss gently, they were both tearing up a little, Martin felt so much so strongly and he pulled away from Jon completely.

“Just need a moment.” he said and smiled at Jon's reassuringly if a bit shaky. 

“Take all the time you need,” Jon said and then softer, “Anything you need.”

And Martin was sure he had never loved anyone more. 

-

On the fourth day of their third week in Scotland Jon had gone to run some errands in town and had come back with an incredibly nervous air about him they were sitting across from Martin at the table twirling their hair and checking his pocket every once in a while.

It was making Martin incredibly antsy and by the third time Jon had looked like he wanted to say something only to then go back to the crossword he was definitely making no progress on Martin had had enough.

“Sol mio,” Martin said, very much enjoying Jon’s wide eyed flustered he always got when Martin called him pet names. “Will you please tell me what is wrong.”

Jon looked at him sheepishly.

“There is not something wrong, per se.”

Martin gave him a look.

Jon sighed and stood up, grabbing a small box from his pocket. 

“Nothing is wrong I just… bought something for you beloved.”

Martin very nearly had a heart attack when Jon opened the box and there was a ring inside. Upon closer inspection it was a beautiful black ring and Martin understood. 

There was silence as Martin could do no more but stare at the ring and then at Jon.

“I see how a ring might come over as a gift now,” Jon rambled nervously, “it is not like that- I mean that is something we will have to talk about. I was afraid it would be too much? It is engraved too and I just hope I didn’t-”

Martin cut him off: “Jon let me see it properly.” 

Jon handed him the ring.

Martin lifted the ring out of the box and saw the engraving on it.

 நான் உன்னைக் காதலிக்கிறேன். I love you. Te amo.

Martin promptly sat down again, it was so sappy, just a tad ridiculous and stupidly cute. It hurt in his chest and tears stung in his eyes.

“How did you know I wanted one?” he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck self consciously and said:

“You were talking a few days ago, about how you would like something like a- like a token, to remind you and I thought an ace ring might be nice.” 

They lifted their right hand.

“We match now.” 

Martin silently moved to put the ring on, it fit perfectly. He ran his fingers over the tiny groves of the words on it. 

An anchor. 

A small reminder that he belonged, here in the world, here with Jon. 

Martin stood up and gently enveloped Jon in a hug.

“Thank you,” he murmured into Jons hair as he placed a small kiss on top of their crown. “It’s perfect.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Forty Three

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not Beta-Read. I hope everyone’s well 😁 Warnings: Cursing; slight angst Summary: My interaction with my fellow fugitives was fairly limited; I’d spoken to Natasha a few days beforehand, and Wanda before that. I had yet to touch base with Vision, but I had a feeling that that would be a shorter conversation than the others, and could probably wait a while.

“So how’s-- Oh. You’re frozen again... There you are,” I laughed as Sam’s fuzzy image because to move again my screen. It was clear enough that I could see him rolling his eyes. “Don’t gimme that look, I’m piggybacking off of really crappy internet, I told you,” I justified. “Last I heard, Wakanda’s got high-speed,” Sam’s voice was a little static-y, and seemed harsher through my shitty earbuds. I fought the urge to pretend the signal had cut and end the call. He’d been dropping not-so-subtle hints like that for the last half-hour. “Yeah, well,” Was my clever response. Sam shook his head. “Come on, what are you doing?” He asked, not bothering to keep the critical edge out of his voice. “Same thing you all are. Keeping my distance for safety’s sake,” I said, “Now you come on, how’s Amsterdam?” I had been in Cairo for nearly three weeks, and had gotten an apartment far away my friends. They’d housed me for a few nights, but I didn’t get used being around other people constantly, knowing it could put them in danger. I hadn’t heard from Steve since I’d arrived. Okoye had reached out once; Shuri texted me every other day at least (usually memes). My interaction with my fellow fugitives was fairly limited; I’d spoken to Natasha a few days beforehand, and Wanda before that. I had yet to touch base with Vision, but I had a feeling that that would be a shorter conversation than the others, and could probably wait a while.

Sam didn’t seem like he was having the best time - but none of us really were. We were isolated, unable to get close to anyone or see one another, constantly looking over our shoulders. Sam told me about his apartment, his cute neighbor (he did not appreciate the joke I made about that neighbor possibly being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent), the sightseeing he’d done. “Steve came out a couple of weeks ago, stayed for a day.” I nodded, trying to keep my face in its neutral set, but it was difficult to ignore the pang of misery I felt at the mention. We went quiet for a few moments, and I knew it was purely my fault, and not the faulty video stream. “How is he?” I asked hesitantly. “... Tired. Stressed-- I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, but he misses you, kid.” I sighed, leaning back against my headboard. “You couldn’t have at least waited to say goodbye to the guy?” Sam pressed. I shook my head. “It’s not that easy, Wilson,” I insisted through gritted teeth. I’d already had to defend myself to Natasha and I wasn’t sure I do it again. Nat certainly hadn’t bought my bullshit. Sam gave in, though, holding his hands up in surrender. “Look, it’s late,” He said, “I’m gonna go. But think about calling.” He gave me a long look, like he was fighting the urge to say something else. “What?” I asked sharply. Sam grimaced. “He’s awake.” -- “It’s real nice to hear your voice, doll.” I was so glad I was only doing this on the phone and not with video. Bucky was less likely to pick up on the sound of my labored breathing this way, but the tears would’ve been hard to miss on a video call. I swallowed a sob, taking in a deep breath. “It’s good to hear yours, too, Bucky... Fuck,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, “You’re-- Everything’s--” “I don’t know how she did it, but Shuri disengaged the sequence. She explained it to me, but I’d just woken up and I was... A little out of it,” Bucky chuckled. The sound was warm, and sweet, and sent pangs of want through me. If I closed my eyes, I could see us back in our apartment in Brooklyn, curled up in the corner of that beat up old couch; could feel myself tucked against his chest, see the twinkle in his eye as he looked down at me. “Tell me about Wakanda,” I implored gently. I just wanted to keep him talking. Four days. Bucky had been awake for four days. Sam had told me, Shuri had confirmed it and told me that she’d assumed that Steve had passed the news on. It was a fair assumption, just incorrect in this case. I knew that Steve was mad at me, but this stung. I wasn’t sure what he’d thought keeping this news from me would do. I didn’t pin this blame on Bucky - he was still adjusting, had enough to worry about, and maybe hadn’t known that Steve hadn’t told me. I listened to Bucky tell me about everything - the children that came to visiting him every day, the fact that Shuri and the others called him the White Wolf. “Stevie and I went to a market the other day,” He said, tone besotted and sweet at his name, and I tried not to let it turn me bitter. “Yeah?” I asked instead, “How was it? What did you see? Did you get anything?” Bucky chuckled at the onslaught of questions, but he answered each in turn (it was nice, a lot of stuff, not this time). “Shuri’s been working on a new arm for me, but I’ve been getting around fine the way I-- Hang on-- C’mere,” I heard Bucky’s voice fade, and panic thrummed through me as my ear caught on the distant timbre of Steve’s voice on the other end. “Who do you think it is, it’s the person you’ve been moping over.” Bucky’s was trying to joke with Steve, but his words made me want to curl into a ball. “... Steve, come on,” Bucky’s tone went stern after a few moments, and I cringed. “Buck, don’t,” I said loudly enough for him to hear, even with his ear a bit away from the phone, “It’s alright, don’t make him, just let him-- It’s okay.” Bucky sighed heavily on the other end, and I could practically see him shaking his head. “It’s my fault,” I tacked on softly, “Don’t be mad at Stevie. This is on me.” “He’s just hurting and missin’ you, babydoll,” Bucky soothed, “We both are.” I felt my lower lip wobble. “I miss you, too,” I murmured. “Can you come soon?” Bucky asked. I hesitated, looking down at my bedspread. “I don’t know, hon, I’m still getting settled here. Maybe in a couple of months.” “Okay,” Bucky’s answer was almost indulgent in how quickly he yielded to it, “Will you call more?” “Of course I will, baby,” I promised, “Every day if you want.” “I want,” Bucky answered, and I smiled despite myself. “Okay,” I agreed. “I’m gonna go try to talk to Steve, but I’ll talk to you later,” Bucky promised. “Alright. I’d say ‘tell him I say hi’, but that may not be a good idea right now.” “Want me to say anything to him for you?” Bucky asked. I thought for a moment. “No,” I said after a moment, “Anything I have to Steve I’ll say myself, I won’t make you go between us.” “Takin’ the high road,” Bucky teased. “I should’ve started with the high road,” I pointed out, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Buck.” “Alright. I love you, doll.” “I love you, too, Bucky.” We murmured our goodbyes a few more times before we finally hung up. I tossed my phone onto the bedspread, drawing my knees up to my chest. I felt as isolated and helpless as I had in the Raft, but this apartment was a prison of my own making. Every creeping moment of quiet taunted me, echoing the same thing: ‘You chose this’. Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr @elliee1497 @adayinmymeadow  @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters  @niallssweetheart22 @uneniffler  @rinthehufflepuff @panic-angel3314  @firstangeldragonranch @kaetastic @mcuwillbethedeathofme @skeletoresinthebasement @i-dont-know-what-im-doing-yay @kkaos15 @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollows  @bassclarinety @tomshelbystits @rvgrsbrns @marvelmenarebeautiful @tenaciousperfectionunknown @intricate-melody​ @stuffandstuff-stuff​ @fanfuckingtastic04 @messybunnyartist @anescapefromtheworld  @shesa-riott​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms @martyniasz @mamooska8 @silver-winter-wolf

[sweetiejunie]

Don’t mind me

Summary: annoyed, you wanted to get back at him

Genre: smut

Yeonjun x reader

=====================================

There he went again, screaming and laughing into the mic at some of his friend while they played, what you now know to be labeled as, an fps game. Sometimes you felt bad for his mic, having no escape from the torture, but at the same time, neither did you.

His computer was located a mere wall away from your shared bedroom, in the echoey living room of your home. On nights where he wanted to stay up playing games, you would head to bed first, neither of you seemed to mind really. Eventually, someways throught the night, you would hear the door creak open and a pair of arms would wrap around you.

It was currently 4am when you had once again woke up to the noise of your boyfriend hysterically laughing and swearing at his teammates when ‘did something stupid’ as he would put it. You never understood what could possible get him so riled up about a game.

This wasn’t the first time yeonjun has woken you up with one of his antics. It’s happened many nights before but every time you tried to talk to him about it, he would apologise and immediately forget what you had just agreed on.

Tonight, however, you weren’t having it anymore. You decided to do something about it, something more than just using words or having a chat with him. You wanted to mess with him... i guess you could say you wanted to fuck with him, both literally and metaphorically.

Wearing an oversized tshirt that belonged to yeonjun, you stepped out of the bedroom. The moment you opened the door, his voice was even more amplified, the only barrier left between you and him now removed. As much as you loved him, you hated him for interrupting your sleep.

Entering the dark living room, you spotted him at his usual corner, next to the TV, facing the windows. You walked up behind him and placed your hands on his, so very broad, shoulders gently massaging them as you wanted to first make your presence known.

He was only dressed in a simple tank top and sweatpants, yet he still managed to pull it off, looking absolutely amazing.

“Oh hey love. Sorry, did i wake you?” He asked, muting his mic and removing his headphone. He tilted his head up to look at you.

His skin glowed a tint of blue as mixture of moonlight and light emulating from the monitor screen reflected off him. As ethereal as he may have looked at that moment, you had to remind yourself you supposed to be mad at him.

“No it’s alright. Dont mind me, continue your game, i just wanted to watch you play for a while,” you said, in a sort of passive agressive manner.

You didn’t want to tell yeonjun your actual motive for coming out here, and you highly doubted he wanted to know either.

Turning back to his game, he unmuted himself and spoke with his teammates again. You took this opportunity to begin placing kisses along his neck.

“Y/n what are you-”

“Shh,” you placed a finger on his lips. Holding back a smirk, you continued, “like i said, dont mind me and continue your game. I’d like to play a game of my own, and the only rule is that you’re not allowed to mute yourself anymore.”

He looked at you in confusion. ‘Yeonjun where are you?’ You heard one of his teammates ask through his headsets.

“Your friends are looking for you babe, it’s rude to keep them waiting,” you said with a pout, showing yeonjun you were ‘innocent’.

Having no choice, he put on his headphones and returned his attention to the game. “Yeah I’m here, sorry. I just got a little distracted by something.”

You continued your actions, littering kisses along his neck, jawline and anywhere else you could reach from that angle. You smirked as you heard yeonjun try to swallow a lump that had formed in his throat.

Moving one side of his headset to the back of his ear, you leaned in. “Gosh babe, you look so hot in tank tops, you should wear them more often,” you said breathily, just loud enough for him to hear, making sure his mic couldn’t.

Running your hands up and down his bare biceps, you laughed as yeonjun pressed his lips together, afraid of replying you, afraid of what the mic would pick up.

Grabbing one of his hands, you lifted his arm up and slid between him and the table, straddling him. You placed his hand back where you picked it up and rested your arms on his shoulders. You watched as his actions froze, both in real life and in game.

“You better keep playing before they start getting suspicious,” you warned, looking at him with your doe eyes.

Unable to process what was going on, yeonjun didnt dare move.

“I said keep playing babe, don’t pay any attention to me.”

‘Yeonjun! Quick we need back up! Where are you!’ Hearing his teammates voice, immediately, yeonjun woke up from his dazed stated.

“I’m- I’m on my way!” He hesitantly replied them.

You gave him a look of approval as he tried his hardest not to be bothered by your actions. Seeing him struggle to keep his composure amused you. He continued talking to his teammates, attempting to sound like his normal self. I would tell you what he was saying but honestly, you didn’t really care about that.

You continued placing kisses on his neck, gently sucking on the skin, leaving subtle marks as you made your way down. Arms tighly wrapped around the back of his neck, you felt as he started to poke your inner tigh. You took this as an indication to start grinding on him.

Not wanting to block his view of the screen, you lifted your head just enough to see his expression. Pleased when you noticed how hard he was fighting back a groan as he grew harder underneath you.

You stripped yourself of his shirt. And lucky for him, or maybe not so lucky in this case, that left you in a pair of lace lingerie you had put on, knowing it was his favourite.

“You know, you don’t have to hold back. You could always just let your dear friends know how you’re getting laid right now,” you whispered into his ear.

Yeonjun swallowed hard, keeping his mouth shut as he felt your breath tickling his ear. He wanted to touch you so badly, but he could take his hands off the keyboard, not wanting to get killed.

Determined to get that groan out of him, you hands wondered down to your own core as you touched yourself through your panties. You continued, “fuck babe, i just want you in me so badly.”

You played with your clit and let out a whine. You knew how much yeonjun hated you touching yourself. You didn’t need to now that you had him. Yeonjun’s pupils were blown up with lust as he watched your little act.

“I’m so wet for you, i just want to ride you right now. You’ll be quiet for me right? Unless, of couse, you want them to hear,” grinning, head resting on his shoulder as your hands moved underneath his shirt. You pushed yourself down against him harder, adding the preasure you both so desired.

He chocked on nothing, contemplating his choices, hesistant to make a decision. Of couse, he did want to fuck you, but he didn’t want his teammates to know what was going on either.

You noticed his hesitation and decided to answer for him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. As long as you dont make too much noise, you won’t embarasse youself in front if your teammates.”

You pulled his pants and boxer down, just enough for his member spring free from its confines. You pumped him a few times, loving the sight as precum leaked from the tip. Spreading it down his shaft, using it as lubrication, you stood up slightly, pushing your panties to the side as you slowly sat down on him.

You let out a content sigh as he filled you to the brim, and yeonjun only wished he could do the same. You laughed slightly as you noticed how he started to respond his teammates with one word answers instead, his mind probably a mess of thoughts.

“You feel so good, you fill me up so good yeonjun,” you said as you started to move your hips on his cock. Using him however you pleased.

You threw your head back, letting out a moan, feeling him twitched inside you as he bite his lip so hard he could almost draw blood.

“Fuck junnie, I’m cumming,” you said, hands on his shoulder for support as you rode out your high.

By this point, yeonjun was in so much ecstasy he didn’t care about the game anymore, the screen just became one big blur to him as he ignored all the complaints he was hearing through the voice chat. Just as he was about to reach his own high, you stopped.

You stood up, getting off him and retrieving his tshirt off the ground. Giving him a wink as you made your way back to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Leaving a very confused, and frustrated, yeonjun behind, wondering what on earth just happened.

You knew what was going to happen afterwards. Yeonjun hated being teased, and even more so, being left with blue balls. Most people would be a little more worried in this situation, but not you, you loved a rough and frustrated yeonjun.

You sat on your bed, legs crossed as you heard footsteps approach the bedroom. And well, you can guess what happened next.

.

.

.

=====================================

Am not turning into a smut blog but ill just write whatever i feel like writing at the time. And a little smut never hurt anyone right 😉 still not good at writing these sorts of things but I’m working on it!

Masterlist

[sirrriusblack]

Romantic prompt. Almost strangers,sit together in class one day because one of them forgot the texbook(everyone thinks this person loves to study,but they just wanted to get away from the people they usually sat with for a bit). Weekend. The one who borrowed the book last time is now cold and borrows the other one's jacket. Goes on for about a week. Everyone ships them. (They get together). Happy ending. The part in bracket are just suggestions. Ps- please dont do snily

Snily? As if I would. (I mean sorry to anyone who ships them but...)

Anyway thanks for the prompt @just-a-teen-fangirl I think you meant it in an AU but I’m sorry if I got that wrong. Also I was going to tryyyy not to do wolfstar but I mean, I have impulse control issues ummm. Maybe one day :)

tw for vague mentions of child abuse

* * *

Sirius heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned around in the chair he’d been lounging in to find a tall, curly-haired boy with a scar running across his face standing behind him, looking more than a little awkward. He was wearing a black hoodie and blue jeans and was holding an exercise book and a graffitied pencil case in his right hand.

“Hey, uh, sorry to bother but I forgot my textbook and I was wondering if I could use yours maybe?” the boy asked, fiddling with the zip on his pencil case. Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Like, use it with you, maybe. Share it, you know.” He coughed, clearly not meaning to have rambled so much. Sirius bit his lip to keep from smirking. He recognised the boy; he’d spent more of the class admiring those brown curls from across the room than actually doing work, but they’d never really interacted. Sirius didn’t interact much with anyone though. At least not beyond the fake grins and small talk he made at parties and the like. Not beyond talking to James. But James wasn’t in his science class, so Sirius had taken to sitting alone, finding it more appealing than the other option; making new friends, having to explain his backstory, the scars, why he lived with James, what happened to his brother. And no one really bothered to approach him either. Until today. The boy’s name started with ‘R’, but that was all Sirius could remember. He had a group of friends he hung out with, Marlene, Lily and another short, blond kid. He only knew the girls’ names because James never shut up about how gorgeous Lily was, and nudged him and pointed to her every time she passed. And everyone knew Marlene. Everyone wanted to hang out with her. Or snog her. Or both. Sirius glanced over to the boy’s group of friends and back to him again.

“None of your friends have a textbook?” he asked, turning back to face the front of the room where the teacher was still writing the lesson plan on the board. Sirius sighed.

“Uh, no?” he said and Sirius immediately knew he was lying. He pointedly looked to Lily, who was leaning over the textbook. Sirius hummed. “Okay, fine, I didn’t ask any of them to borrow theirs because they’d think something was wrong if I left my textbook at home, and that’s cool or whatever but I really can’t be bothered with that shit and I—” Sirius cut him off, scared of how much he liked the boy’s rambling.

“Okay, you can sit down.” Sirius said, turning back to the front again. The boy cleared his throat and sat down in the seat next to him, opening his books and pulling a pen from his pencil case. He quickly glanced at Lily, Marlene and the other kid before he flashed a tight smile at Sirius. Sirius smirked back. He wasn’t sure whether to cringe or laugh at this situation.

“I’m Remus, by the way, in case you didn’t know,” he said, running his hands through his curls. Sirius didn’t want to to shiver, didn’t want to be so affected how bloody gorgeous this guy was. Remus. The name fit.

“Sirius,” he said in return, reaching his hand out. Remus shook it hesitantly and Sirius cursed himself for letting his childhood etiquette habits show to a very not fancy high school kid. He shook his head. Remus was looking at Sirius with a strange expression on his face. He didn’t like it. Or maybe he did. “How’d you get the scar?” he asked, knowing exactly how rude it was to ask. Knowing exactly how it would take Remus by surprise, probably push him away, make him regret sitting with Sirius. But Remus didn’t seem bothered. He laughed.

“No one’s ever asked that straight to my face.”

“Why?” Sirius could see something in his eyes, a gleam of amusement, of something more maybe.

“Probably ‘cause it’s considered kind of rude,” he explained, smiling. Sirius shrugged.

“Good morning everybody, today we’ll be continuing on from last lesson with the questions in the textbook. You may read the passage again, and look back on your notes from the experiment as well.” Sirius huffed in annoyance.

“Why does she even write what we’re doing on the board if she tells us anyway?” Sirius muttered, looking over to Remus, who wasn’t paying any attention but was instead drawing something on a blank page in his book. It was a night sky, and even though he only had one black pen, it was amazing. Sirius looked closer at what part Remus was working on; a constellation. His constellation. Canis Major. Sirius huffed a laugh. He wasn’t paying attention at all. “I guess that’s why.” Remus’ head snapped to Sirius.

“What?” he asked, oblivious. Sirius smirked.

“Nothing,” he said, turning away from the other boy to tie up his hair. He threaded his pencil through it for extra support and swore he saw Remus shudder. Shit.

“So, how’d you get the scar?” Sirius asked again, wanting an excuse to get away from the class more than anything. It was Friday, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to get to the Potter’s and lie in bed for all eternity. Remus just went back to his drawing and smirked.

“How’d you get that bruise on your eye?” he asked in return. Sirius laughed bitterly, thinking of last month, how his mother had smacked him across the face with her wine bottle. The bruise was just barely gone now, a faint brown and purple.

“Fair enough,” Sirius said, dropping the subject and leaned closer to look over the Remus’ shoulder. “You like drawing?” he motioned to the book, the constellation and the stars glittering across the page.

“Uh, yeah. Since I was little.” Remus looked up at him, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice how close they were sitting. He looked into Remus’ amber eyes, at all the varying colours. Sirius sucked in his breath as he looked down, and his gaze fell onto Remus’ lips, soft and—

“Boys! A little less staring and a little more working, please.” Sirius felt his cheeks heat as he leaned back and mumbled a quick ‘sorry, miss’ under his breath. Remus cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair, no doubt cringing at all the heads turned their way. A quick glance between Remus and his friends’ shit eating grins had Remus’ cheeks reddening more. Suffice to say, the boys spent the rest of the lesson in near silence, sharing the textbook between them and ignoring every brush of their hands.

When their class ended, Remus mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ before he packed up his stuff and walked back over to his friends. Sirius’ stomach was tied in a knot, and he hated it. He hated that this random guy, with his random scar and his random hotness was having this effect on him. Yet when he saw Remus begin to walk out the door, Sirius couldn’t help but run after him.

“Hey, uh, Remus!” he called out, causing the curly haired boy to turn, confused. Something in Remus’ eyes shifted as he beheld Sirius. He muttered something to Lily and walked over, his hands fiddling with the zip on his pencil case again. Students streamed around them; they were boulders in a river, disrupting the water’s path.

“Hey,” Remus said, unsure. Sirius felt sick, nervous even, as he struggled to find something to say.

“Uh, sorry, stupid question, are you going to Dorcas’ party on the weekend?” Sirius asked. It was all he could think of. Remus’ eyes widened.

“I’m not sure, maybe...” he trailed off.

“Oh, okay... Well I hope you do.” Sirius smiled quite awkwardly and walked away, cursing himself, before Remus could reply.

* * *

“Shit,” Sirius groaned smoothing his hair over with the palm of his hand. James swung into the room, his hand gripping the doorway.

“What is it now?” James asked. He’d been waiting for Sirius for twenty minutes.

“I can’t get my hair to work. I’m not going, oh my gosh, I look like a fucking idiot.” Sirius was pacing the bathroom, much to James’ amusement when Mr Potter walked in, a jar in his hand.

“Language, kiddo, and here.” He threw the jar and walked out while Sirius was still scrambling to catch it. James cracked up laughing.

Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion: Two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet.

Sirius glared at James, and opened the jar, pouring three drops into his hand. “Thanks, Mr Potter!” he called out, finally satisfied with his hair. James turned to Sirius while they walked toward the front door.

“Why do you even care? You never usually do.” Sirius thought about those brown curls, that smug smirk and the intensity in those burning amber eyes. He thought about the constellation Remus’d been drawing in his book and the way he’d locked eyes with Sirius, like they could tell each other anything, like they could burn forever, together and in love. Sirius shook his head. He barely knew the guy. Shit.

“I don’t know, James.” Sirius’ voice was quiet and soft and he hated it. He cleared his throat and smirked. “Guess I just felt like dressing up, aye?” Neither James nor Sirius believed that.

* * *

Sirius hated to admit that he was looking for Remus before he even got to the party. Him and James were walking up the street and Sirius was watching every person surrounding the house or the street for that head of brown curls. He didn’t find him. James’ house was around the corner, less than five minutes, so the walk here had been quick and the boys hadn’t talked all that much. But James had noticed that something was happening with Sirius.

“What’s happening, mate?” he asked, hazel eyes piercing into Sirius.

“What?” Sirius asked, craning his neck higher to look at someone that could be Remus. It wasn’t. When Sirius turned back to James, his eyes were wide.

“Who are you looking for, and why are you dressed up? You hate parties.” It was mostly true, Sirius didn’t like parties all that much. When he walked into a room and the smell of alcohol hit him sometimes he’d be back in that place, back with his mother, her breath reeking of wine as she screamed at him, screamed slurs and threw glasses and all Sirius could do was sit there and take it, or his brother would have to instead. So no, he didn’t really like parties very much. But he didn’t hate parties. He told James as much but only got dissatisfied look in return. “Who are you looking for?” he asked again, following Sirius’ line of sight.

“Uh, no one, some guy from science, I need to ask him a question.” James cracked a smile.

“The guy from science with the golden brown curls and the glittering scars and the eyes of amber glass?” James asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. Sirius shoved him and opened his mouth to speak, to deny it, as he heard a voice behind him.

“James, I had no idea you felt that way about Remus.” Sirius lost his shit. He spun around, quicker than he thought he’d ever moved. Lily was standing behind them, an amused smirk dancing on her face as she poked fun at James. Remus was standing behind her, his face flushed pink despite the grin creeping onto his face. They all stood there in silence for a moment. Remus was wearing a burgundy t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, and was holding a glass bottle of some sort of alcohol. Sirius looked at Remus, at the utter lack of effort he’d put into his outfit and he almost laughed. Of course he hadn’t put in any effort, there was no way Remus actually liked him, no way he’d spent ages before the party choosing what he’d wear, fixing his hair. Shit. What was Sirius thinking? A song came on over the massive collection of speakers and James grinned.

“Care for a dance, Lilypad?” he asked reaching his hand out. Lily looked between James and Remus, conflicted, before she smirked and took James’ hand.

“Of course, James.” She seemed to direct the answer toward Remus, and the boy’s eyes widened. Even James was surprised. Both Sirius and Remus watched, shocked, as Lily followed James and started walking. Never in a million years had Sirius ever imagined that happening. He snuck a glance at Remus who, in return, was watching him. Both of the boys blushed.

“Golden brown curls?”

“Look, James was exaggerating.”

They both spoke at the same time which only led to more blushing and smiles. Remus crossed his arms. “So you were still talking about me?”

“What?”

“You said James was exaggerating. Which means you’ve still talked about me, right?” he asked, looking somewhere between amused and hopeful. Sirius didn’t see the hopeful. He opened his mouth, ready to deny it, but, he’d backed himself into a corner.

“I—I mean... yes?” Sirius admitted, his insides twisting in every direction. Remus nodded.

“Follow me,” he said, starting to walk towards the house. On the porch, there was a bench swing and surprisingly, it was empty. Remus sat and looked up at Sirius, waiting for him to take the space next to him. They sat for a moment, watching the chaos on the front lawn and listening to the music around them. Sirius looked over to Remus and swore.

“You’re shivering like crazy,” he said. Remus tucked his knees to his chest, bottle in his hand.

“Yeah I, uh, forgot my jacket.”

“First the book, now your jacket,” he said, taking his leather jacket off. “You’ve got the memory of gold fish,” he finished, handing the jacket over. Remus raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to refuse but Sirius gave him a stern look, and he took it, chuckling.

“Thanks.” Sirius nodded in return. He’d admit—to himself at least—that James hadn’t been exaggerating. Sirius could get very... talkative when he was tired and the previous night he had been very tired. So, yes, he had said all of that. But Remus didn’t need to know. On cue, Remus took a swig of his drink and opened his mouth.

“I like you,” He blurted out. Sirius nearly shat himself.

“What?” he spat. Remus looked mortified and he ran his hands trough his tangled hair. If Sirius wasn’t stressing so much, he probably would have admired it.

“Um, uh, I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have said that. Never mind. I’m going to go get another drink.” He stood up, ready to make his way to the kitchen, ready to bolt straight out of there.

“Wait!” Sirius stood up and grabbed ahold of Remus’ arm, unintentionally triggering something in Remus. His soft, amber eyes turned hard, glazed.

“No, don’t!” He shouted, snatching his arm away and backing up slowly. Sirius stumbles back a bit too.

“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to...” He didn’t finish, didn’t know quite how to, But Remus’ eyes slowly softened again and his shoulders slackened.

“No, it’s not—I just” Sirius cut him off, glancing at the scar on Remus’ face, thinking of his own scars, littering his body.

“You don’t have to explain. Just... don’t go, please?” He hated the idea of this, hated how much he wanted Remus to stay, hated how much he liked this boy, hated how he barely knew him. Remus nodded and sat back down on the swinging bench. “Did you mean it—what you said?” Sirius didn’t need to explain. Remus hesitated, but still nodded. He didn’t look at Sirius, didn’t want to see his reaction, probably, in case it wasn’t what he wanted. Sirius reaches out again, slower this time, and placed his hand next to Remus’s— not quite touching.

“I like you too,” he whispered, ensuring that only they could hear, ensuring that this moment was theirs, and theirs only. Sirius hated the feeling of vulnerability, of uncertainty, but when he saw Remus grin, a mess of teeth and lips and absolute divine gorgeousness, his mind was clear of every doubt. Remus moves his pinkie on top of Sirius’, and both boys blushed, and grinned.

“Can I kiss you?” Remus whispered, still keeping the moment between them. It was like the whole party, the whole world, disappeared at that question. Sirius nodded. Remus moved closer and closed his eyes, still smiling. Fuck. Sirius closed the gap between them and fisted his hands into Remus’ jacket. When they broke apart, Remus huffed a laugh. “You want your jacket back?” Sirius had forgotten that it was his, and at this particular moment, he didn’t want it.

“Nah. You look hot in leather.” Remus’ next laugh was muffled behind the other boy’s lips, but Sirius could have sworn he’d never heard a better sound.

[felicityfiction]

[bulletproof glass part 3] part 2

“choi san is dangerous”

those were the first words that hongjoong uttered after the fateful meeting in the warehouse. “maybe i underestimated him.”

yunho remembers hongjoong having a nightmare that night, ending with a loud shout of “YUNHO!” and the banging open of his door, a frenzied hongjoong barging in his room, gasping for air like someone was choking him. yunho remembers hongjoong startling him awake, only to have hongjoong gather him in his arms and mutter incomprehensible things into his ears while he just sat there, helpless and confused.

“they can’t take me, hyung. it’s okay. i’m here, i’m safe.”

a frantic shake of the head. “no, you’re not. i made you a target since the day i took you to see them. i shouldn’t have done that, but i couldn’t leave you alone.”

“i know, hyung. it’s alright. we’re okay. i can protect myself”

a muffled laugh. “as much as that gun is loaded, yunho, we both know you can‘t bring yourself to shoot.”

yunho purses his lips, drawing back and holding hongjoong at arms length. “i’ll shoot it if anyone threatens you, hyung. threatens us. you know that.”

hongjoong sighs, and wonders for the nth time why he brought this sweet soul into the tainted abyss of the underworld.

he sleeps much better after that, though, buried in 185cm of yunho.

“hello again, yunho ssi”

yunho, in his sleep deprived, coffee induced haze, barely recognises the person standing in front of him. “huh.” he manages to utter, sounding so incredibly dumb that even he himself winces. damn it, yunho. get it together

but then he realises he shouldn’t even be engaging with choi san, who’s holding a latte to his lips and grinning at him like they shared some kind of inside joke.

yunho thinks he should find a new cafe to frequent. he can’t keep being distracted by devilishly attractive mafia bosses while he‘s trying to work on his dissertation. shame, the coffee here is the best he’s had in a while.

“what do you want.” he sighs out, not bothering to try and intimidate san into going away. somehow,within three meetings, he already understands san more than most people do.

choi san cannot be cowed.

“like i said last time, nothing. just wanted to say hi. and good luck on whatever you’re doing, it looks difficult.” choi san hums, still staring at him, and yunho, much to his horror, finds the tips of his ears going hot.

san’s grin morphs into a smirk. “i told you before, yunho- we’ll probably be meeting a lot. and it’s probably to my benefit that you look cute almost all the time. even holding a gun.”

what is this guy‘s problem?!

yunho grits his teeth, willing himself to ignore the man. “i am busy. go away.”

“of course, of course. see you soon, cutie.” san winks, and to yunho’s horror, the blush on his ears creeps onto his cheeks.

“i hope not.”

“darling, we don’t always get what we want in life.” san chirps merrily, and yunho tenses. choi san is dangerous.

warning alarms go off in his head when san leans in closer, just like he did the last time they met. this time, yunho forces himself not to shrink away. he can’t shoot me in broad daylight. he’s a mafia boss, not an idiot.

“but i’m the exception. i always get what i want. and right now, jung yunho, i want you.”

yunho chokes on air, and san whirls around on his heels, strutting off, a satisfied smile decorating his chiseled features. making yunho flustered was his new favourite past time.

while yunho is still recovering, an employee brings out a piece of hazelnut cake and sets it on his table. yunho eyes it suspiciously. “sorry, i didn’t order that.”

“yes, but that gentleman just now did. told us to bring it to you. oh, and he left a message. enjoy, sir!”

a card is slipped onto his table, and yunho can’t resist.

eyeing the cake and gingerly picking up the fork with his left hand, he turns the card around with his right hand and blinks.

you intrigue me, jung yunho. hazelnut is your favourite right? i bet you’re wondering how i know, though the answer won’t surprise you. i’ll get to know you more, and maybe you’ll want me to know you too.

by the way, my name is san, since you never use it. here’s my number. i trust you won’t do anything with it, but maybe save it. i’ll see you again.

for gods’ sake. was a mafia boss flirting with him?

“san. what’s your intention with yunho?”

“god, seonghwa, you’ve asked me that so many times. i told you, he’s a bit of fun and amusement. such an innocent thing. maybe i want to ruin him. who knows? i just like messing with him.”

seonghwa pursed his lips, eyeing san cautiously while he spins in his leather chair behind his gigantic desk.

“there’s no time for amusement.”

you have to kill him.

“that’s where you are wrong, my dear stick in the mud.” san tuts at him. “there’s always time for fun, and jung yunho is the best fun i’ve had in a while.”

“usually you sleep with the fun on the first try.” seonghwa deadpans.

san laughs, and then contemplates. “true. but he knows me, knows what i am. he’ll take more effort, if i want to go there. but strangely, i’m not sure that’s what i even want out of him.”

“why do you care so much about him?” seonghwa bites his tongue, regretting his statement immediately when he sees san tense.

“i don’t. i’m just bored, seonghwa. don’t get anything screwed up inside your head.”

god, seonghwa wants to tell him so bad.

they’re going to make you kill him

stay away from him

i don’t want you to hurt

“i’ll have him soon. and then i won’t want him anymore, just like all the others.” san whirls around in his chair to face the window, the view of seoul greeting him. “they’re all so easy.”

seonghwa knows jung yunho isn’t easy. he’s not a toy, and he won’t fall for san.

at least, seonghwa hopes he won’t. he hopes that jung yunho is intelligent and cares enough about his own wellbeing to stay away from san. then maybe the elders would reconsider his target, and seonghwa won’t have to look hongjoong in the eye and tell him that his little brother is about to be killed-

seonghwa grips his phone tightly, standing outside an apartment smack in the middle of hongdae. he’s trying to decide whether or not to knock, when the door opens and decides for him.

kim hongjoong stands before seonghwa, in all the glory that one can at 4am in the morning.

“the fuck?” is the only thing he gets in lieu of a greeting.

seonghwa can’t help the little smile that crawls onto his face, or the little flame of warmth that blooms, just for a split second, in his heart.

this apartment is hongjoong’s secret hideout, away from all the filth and burden that he carries in his day to day life.

somehow, seonghwa has been let in on the secret.

“hey.” seonghwa manages, biting his lips to keep from spilling everything out.

“do you need something?” hongjoong’s voice is husky, and seonghwa feels slightly apologetic for waking him up. especially since he has no idea why he’s there, other than the fact that his feet took him there of their own accord.

so he decides to be honest. “wanted to see you. that’s all. i can go now.”

he doesn’t move, registering hongjoong’s slight widening of his eyes and the way he seems to be more alert.

god, if choi san knew how dangerous it was to be so, so attracted to the enemy, maybe he would stay away. but seonghwa is a hypocrite.

kim hongjoong is his biggest secret.

there’s a pale hand on his wrist, tugging him into the apartment, and seonghwa complies easily.

he has always, always been weak for kim hongjoong.

here, in this apartment, he tosses aside his persona as a senior member of the choi mafia, and hongjoong sheds the title of leader. at least for a while, they both pretend like they’re just normal people, enjoying each other’s company

and maybe they both secretly entertain the thought that they might be normal people, who don’t want to let each other go.

within each meeting on opposite sides, with the threat of dying ever present, hongjoong will never admit it, but he doesn’t think he could shoot seonghwa. or hurt him. or do anything besides gather the taller man into a tight embrace and press his lips against the tatoo on his neck. the insignia of his gang. maybe, if he kisses it hard enough,it will fade away and hongjoong can take him into his arms without feeling like he’s playing with fire.

there’s not supposed to be trust between them. but seonghwa bares his neck a bit more, and he knows he’s long gone , unable to stay away from hongjoong.

if it came down to it, they’d both shoot themselves before they would each other. of course, neither of them says that, because that would mean crossing a line that they couldn’t afford to. they’d trip over the web of strings and not be able to catch themselves. on the surface, they don’t speak of each other. but at night, seonghwa’s thoughts flit over to hongjoong automatically.

and seonghwa wants.

he wants so,so badly.

and he’s scared that san wants, too.

san, who covers for him silently and doesn’t use hongjoong as leverage against seonghwa. san, who has so much more on the line.

charming, seductive choi san, who wouldn’t be able to realise he’s in too deep because he thinks himself invincible and beyond attachment.

in hongjoong’s bedroom that night, buried under the sheets, seonghwa prays and prays, but he feels hopeless.

he’s always prayed to wake up the next day and still be here, next to hongjoong without a gun between them.

but tonight, he thinks of san.

there’s a mountainload of guilt in his chest. the knowledge that san will be tasked to kill, and seonghwa will be forced to choose between two sides of himself that have been clashing from the beginning

in his heart, seonghwa knows. he knows because he can read san like an open book. he’s grown up with san, and he feels suffocated at the thought that san doesn’t know himself as well as he thinks. san is plunging head first into the deep end.

san’s falling, and seonghwa might not be able to catch him.

A/N: i really didnt think this through. i dont know how i want the story to develop because i am an impatient prick who wants to get to the climax but can’t put together a good enough storyline to get there and shfhnfew i’m so frustrated

[lov3nerdstuff]

There's always tomorrow

* Tom Hiddleston x reader * -> friendship/platonic

Parts: Oneshot

Words: 6.6k

Warnings: Tom’s a teacher and you’re a student, but you’re just friends!

Summary: You are a brilliant student, in your last year of high school, but you don't have any friends but your books. Thus you secretly spend your lunch breaks alone in a forbidden hallway, until one certain teacher takes notice of you. Yet he doesn't kick you out and instead sits down with you to talk. Soon you find that sometimes, the most unlikely friendships are the best ones indeed.

Request: Hi! I dont want to be a bother but i have a fic idea I would love to see your take on since your such an amazing writer. Here's the idea: tom works as a teacher in high school and R is this shy and introverted student who doesn't have many friends and she always sits alone and reads at lunch so tom decides to sit with her and they developed some kind of friendship? Just platonic since I imagine the R underage but I would love whatever you decide💜💙💚 -> @lady-of-lies (hope you like this, dear 💗✨)

_____________________________

It was Friday. Thanks goodness that at least this purgatory of a week was slowly coming to an end. It wasn't like you didn't enjoy going to school, really… You loved learning, loved the pleasures of knowledge with a burning passion. And that exactly was the problem. You loved learning, while almost everyone else in your grade just thought of school as a menace that would finally be over in a few months. They deemed you weird, for studying hard, for getting good grades, for enjoying it.

To you, the only two problems in high school were, one, that you had absolutely no friend and thus spent most time by yourself, and two, that they didn't nearly teach you enough and thus left you bored and done with your tasks after five minutes of class.

In perspective, the second problem bothered you way more than the first one. Not having friends was fine, you weren't the boldest person anyway, finding yourself uncomfortable in social situations more often than not. Thus you were left only talking to your classmates when you really had to, finding no interest in those dull creatures outside of the occasional mandatory group project. They were all about partying, gossiping, who had been sleeping with whom… You found no remote interest in that. There were more important things to talk about, more meaningful conversations to be had, and as long as no one was able to give you just that you were fine not talking at all.

So on this Friday noon, just like every day since you had started going to this school last year, you found yourself sitting on the ground in a small hallway at lunchtime, equipped with a book and a sandwich and an apple you'd brought from home. Sure, you could've just taken a seat in the cafeteria… your life wasn't a movie, there were no bullies and cheerleaders, no inseparable groups of friends who excluded everyone, no real need to sit alone on the ground.

But you cherished this time of solitude, of being in the solemn company of the only sane person in this building: yourself. That is also why you had chosen the most desolate part of the entire school to have your lunch by yourself. Usually no one showed up here, in the backstage area of the large auditorium that was occasionally used for the drama and literature classes.

Really, most students didn't even seem to know that this part of school existed in the first place. It was a tiny world in itself, only a couple hallways with storage rooms and workshops and such. Only accessible through a small door in the back of the auditorium, which to be honest you weren't supposed to go into by yourself. But for the one year you'd been going to this school, you had not run into anyone at all while coming here every single day at lunch.

Smiling contently to yourself, you took a bite of your sandwich and allowed yourself a break from existence by letting your book swallow you into its comforting world of imagination.

You were granted exactly thirty minutes of silence and solitude before gente yet swift footsteps drew your mind back to the real world, immediately instilling a sense of panic in your mind. The automatic lights flickered to life once the cause of the noise walked into your part of the hallway and your eyes narrowed at the sudden brightness. Oh no… being caught here would only mean trouble, and you seriously weren't in the mood for that, not when you had only a few more classes left. Yet, panic and fear made you unable to move, working against the natural instinct of flight. All you could do was watch the approaching figure with wide eyes, fingers tightly gripping onto the book in your lap.

"You're not supposed to be in here, are you?" A smooth voice spoke to you, finally making you snap out of your frozen stare. The man currently standing in front of you didn't look like a teacher at all… but you'd seen him in the hallways between classes a few times. You didn't know his name, nor what he taught.

"I…" You started, wide eyes fixed on his as you felt incredibly small. He was tall, REALLY tall, intimidating since you were cowering on the ground, staring up at him like he was some ethereal creature, a manifestation of universal goodness. And he was smiling at you kindly with a subtle hint of amusement.

"You…?" He spoke again, and his curls seemed to form a halo of light around his head as they glowed in the brightness of the overhead lamps.

"I'm not supposed to be in here." You simply said.

"And yet you are." He chuckled, frowning at you a little. "How did you even get in here?"

"There's a door. One can walk through it." You blurted out without thinking, confusion and panic making your mind dizzy.

The man in front of you let out an obviously unintentional snort, before biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing and continue to look somewhat stern at you. It wasn't working all too well. "Thank you for the information, I was well aware of the door indeed. What I was wondering about was what made you walk through that door today."

"Habit?" You tried, still not averting your eyes from his as you felt utterly unable to rise to your feet.

"And before you made a habit of coming here?"

"An inherently curious nature?" You replied in the same uncertain voice.

The man just smiled down at you in the most amused expression you had seen all week, crossing his arms in front of his chest as if debating with himself what to do or ask next.

"How long have you been coming here?" He finally asked, more curious than scolding really.

"A little over a year." You admitted, blushing a deep shade of crimson as you looked back down to the book in your lap. Darn, you really couldn't have told him that. But you found it somehow impossible to lie to him, even if you didn't yet know who he was.

"And you've never run into anyone telling you that it's not allowed for students to be back here?" He frowned, moving to lean against the wall opposite to you and that at least made him seem a little less towering, but no less ethereal.

"I've never run into anyone back here at all." You shrugged, feeling a little less panicked now that there were a few feet between you. "That's the point of me being here in the first place."

"To hide?"

"To find solitude in this chaotic place of inevitable social and intellectual boredom." You replied quickly, once more before thinking. Yet once you realized what you'd just said you started apologizing immediately. "Sorry! I… I didn't mean… It's just..."

"No, it's fine. I think I know what you mean." He mused, shrugging. "Most students don't take interest in their classes, at least not in high school."

"See, that's not what I meant at all." You sighed, frowning to yourself. Should you really be having this conversation with a teacher? You were probably boring his mind out, but he'd asked after all and as long as he wasn't making you return to the busy school hallways you'd be good talking to him here.

So you crossed your legs beneath yourself and placed your book on your backpack. "I find great interest in most of my classes' topics. I love delving into the gain of knowledge, broadening my horizon in a way. In any way, really. But you see, most classes have a rather shallow approach to their contents. I do see that it's not entirely possible to make the classes any more in-depth, as most people will struggle to even understand the basic concepts… But if the students are expected to understand and accept that classes are made for the majority of people, not for the marginal groups, I also expected the teachers to understand that I will feel bored after having understood the lessons' content after two minutes, if I didn't know it even before class time started in the first place."

Once you were finished with your little rant, the man looked at you in sincere surprise for a moment, but you were honestly so surprised with yourself that you found yourself blushing all the more, and looking back down to the ground. "Sorry, I really shouldn't have said that…"

"Don't apologise for having an opinion." He replied calmly, encouragingly almost. "You have every right to say what you think, especially since I asked about it. I'm just a little surprised, that is all."

You peaked back up at him carefully, doubtful of what he must be thinking of you now. Honestly, you weren't someone to ever talk to a teacher this rudely. You would think to yourself how ridiculous the mistakes were that they were making most of the time, but you would keep it solemnly to yourself.

"So you're coming here to read during the lunch break?" He asked after a moment of silence, drawing you back from your troubled thoughts.

"Yeah." You replied softly, finding it oddly easy and pleasant to talk to him.

"Shouldn't you be sitting in the cafeteria with your friends? Spending a little time with your classmates away from studying?" He inquired further and you found yourself inclined to answer.

"No, I'm fairly good on my own. I can't really find any interest in their conversations and I'd rather spend my energy reading than pretending to care. And I'm not studying, just reading for fun." You gave him a half smile, watching how he casually leaned against the wall with a curious expression.

"You're reading Hamlet for fun?" He rose an eyebrow at you in amusement. "Not that I'd be judging…"

"Yes...?" You gave back reluctantly. "Isn't that something normal people do? Consuming literature for the sake of entertainment?"

"They do, but I'm afraid most people wouldn't deem Shakespeare very entertaining." He laughed, shaking his head to himself and you blushed again, looking at your book and then at your feet, which felt increasingly numb from being crossed for too long.

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He said quickly, without the previous amusement. "I love Shakespeare too, his works are truly remarkable. The way he revolutionized the use of language…"

"I know! I love all the small neologisms that we don't even notice today because our modern words are based on them. Reading his works is so much fun in its entirety, both for the content and the art of wording itself!" You said excitedly, yet again feeling your cheeks heat up at the rather passionate outburst. "Sorry, that was just me geeking out a little…"

He smiled widely at that, then frowned a little. "Why aren't you taking literature classes?"

"How do you know I don't?" You asked right back.

"Because I teach them all." He laughed, still trying to keep from smiling all too brightly. "I would know if you were in any of my classes. I teach literature, English and drama, even though most people don't believe those are separate classes."

"Oh, so that's why I don't know you…" You mused, chewing on your bottom lip. "I switched schools before the beginning of last year, so I've only been here a year and the little bit of this started one… But I won't be here for much longer."

"Why not?"

"It's my last year." You smiled with a sigh. "I'm looking forward to a challenge, for once, when I go to college."

"And that keeps you from taking my literature class?" He asked with a small smile.

"Of course not…" You shook your head, blushing yet again. The reason why you hadn't taken literature indeed wasn't really something you wanted to share with him.

"Anyway, I'm Mr. Hiddleston. Since we've not had the pleasure before..." He said lightly, obviously noticing your discomfort with the previous question and you were beyond thankful that he'd let it go.

"I'm Y/n." You gave him a small smile in return. "Nice to meet you. I think I've actually heard about you before."

"You have?" He laughed, eyes bright and curious and you felt yourself blushing yet again. Couldn't you keep your stupid mouth shut?

"Uuh, I've just overhead a few classmates talking about your English class, I think…" You finally managed to say, and given that it was the truth you felt a little less embarrassed.

"Well, I hope you've only heard good things then." He smiled and for a moment you looked at each other in complete uncertainty of what to say. "Lunch break is almost over…" He finally commented, looking at his watch with a frown.

"Too bad." You sighed, packing up your empty lunchbox and your book. "Lunch is my favorite subject. It's usually more productive than any of my classes."

He laughed at that, shaking his head to himself as he stood upright once again. "I'm sorry for interrupting your reading time with my questions."

"Please don't be, I enjoyed talking to you. It was nice not being alone for once. Which admittedly is a rare thing for me." Your mouth was faster than your brain again, and you felt flustered but frowned a little nonetheless as you rose to your feet. "I mean… wouldn't you have kicked me out anyway? I mean students aren't allowed to be in here."

"Students aren't allowed to be in here ALONE. You weren't alone. I was here. Don't see a problem." He smiled easily as you both sauntered towards the exit and through the auditorium. Why was he being so nice to you? Usually teachers didn't miss any opportunity to demonstrate their power over the students, leave alone talk to them if they didn't have to… Mr. Hiddleston was different. A good different, you thought.

"Y/n…" He said as you both stepped back into the main hallway. "I must inform you that you may not go back in there by yourself, and so on and so forth. Do you understand?"

"I do understand, but I cannot promise you that I will listen to it." You said sincerely, surprised yet again at your honesty. What by all gods were you even doing here, talking to a teacher like that?

He suppressed another grin, looking at the ground for a short moment before his eyes were back with yours. "Have a lovely weekend. I'll see you on Monday." With one last amused smile he turned around and sauntered down the hallway, probably heading to his next class while you were left frowning to yourself as you went on to yours. Only in the middle of class your mind suddenly hit the pause button for the outside world: why would he see you on Monday?

_______________

The weekend went by in a blur, you finished Hamlet and another random book and sooner than expected it was Monday morning. But really… Monday always came sooner than expected. Equipped with a new read you went on to school, suffering through the first few classes. If only they would at least try to make things interesting… you'd asked for some further tasks once you'd been done early yet again, but the answer was always the same: be happy that you're done and stay at your seat in silence. No reading, no phone, no drawing… nothing but sitting and staring out of the window.

However during the last class before lunch, you honestly wished yourself back to staring out of the window. It was history, a subject you actually did find interest in as it served as a good basis for many other things (like literature, music, arts, sociology…). Unfortunately today it was time for yet another group project, making you feel sick almost immediately. You just hated group projects… they always ended up the same: you had to do all the work by yourself and the others got credit for it. And that already was the best outcome of all possible scenarios.

Again, it was the same old. People had formed groups already, and as always no one wanted to work with you (stupid of them, you thought… they weren't even smart enough to see that you could, and would, help them to a better grade). But unlike the other times, your teacher was having enough of your suggestion to just work by yourself and forced you upon a group of three people, who all seemed to despise the idea just as much as you did. Once class was over, you quickly packed up your things and made for the door as quickly as possible. Unfortunately you didn't get all too far before the voices of your new group members reached your ears, bearing the usual insults and complaints which could be accurately summed up as 'Fuck off Y/n'.

God, why did people have to be so cruel… You hadn't done anything at all but getting good grades without much effort. How was that supposed to be your fault? It wasn't like you had chosen to be this way really…

Feeling equally sad and angry you made your way towards the auditorium, crossing it with quick steps and walking through the backdoor into your own realm of solitude. With a long sigh you carelessly dropped your backpack on the floor and sat down next to it, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn't want to cry, really… only sulk in peace. And sulking you did, for exactly thirty minutes until you heard the now familiar footsteps approaching you.

"I know, I'm not supposed to be here." You groaned, hiding your face as you rested your forehead on your knees. "Just tell me to go and we'll get it over with."

"Why would I tell you to go?" Mr. Hiddleston's calm voice wrapped around your troubled mind like a liquid soothing cold applied to a scorching burn.

"Because it's what teachers do." You sighed to yourself, still not looking at him. "You make life insufferable as a hobby."

"Now, I think you're doing me injustice." He spoke with a smile that you could clearly hear in his voice. "I didn't come here to make you leave."

Now you finally lifted your head and looked at the man standing on the opposite wall. As your eyes met his, he offered you a kind smile. "May I?" He motioning to the space on the ground opposite to you.

You nodded. Whatever reason he had to spend his precious lunch time with you, you were honestly glad for some NICE company for once. Really, you didn't even know him all that well, he was still a teacher after all, but his presence was calming and he was interesting enough of a person to talk to. You couldn't predict a single thing he did or said, and that intrigued you. He seemed like a man with a brain.

"I'm sorry." You finally said, resting your chin on your knees and blushing ever so slightly as your mind allowed other emotions than sadness and anger. "I insulted your profession, that wasn't right. Being mad at individuals doesn't justify generalization, nor impoliteness."

"Very true indeed. And I accept your apology, we all have a bad day sometimes. Also, I unintentionally insulted you on Friday, so I think we're even now." He replied in the same calm his features showed as he rested his forearms on his propped up knees.

"You insulted me?" You frowned, voice small and reflecting your tiredness. "I hadn't noticed."

"I assumed you were an average student. Lazy, shallow, indifferent." He shrugged and your lips formed the tiniest of smiles. "We all have prejudices, Y/n… Classification is natural thing. However what defines us as a person is how we let those prejudices affect our behavior and how aware we are of having them in the first place."

You sighed, nodding in agreement. "You're right… I still didn't mean to behave so hostile."

"Defense and coping mechanisms." He replied with a half smile. "You were clearly hurt by something or someone and thus lashed out at the weakest subject in reach, in this case... me. It's not rocket science really… I understand. We're all good."

You couldn't help but frown at the man in front of you. He was smarter than any of your other teachers and it left you wondering why someone like him would be sitting on the floor with a student. Yet, questioning him would've been just rude and thus you decided on finding out when the time had come.

"What's gotten you so upset, if I may ask?" He inquired politely, leaning his head against the wall as he watched you curiously.

"You know Miss Jones, right?" You sighed, mirroring his sitting position more or less intentionally. "She forced me to work on a project with people who absolutely despise me to their very core."

"I can hardly believe that someone would actually despise you." He replied, frowning a little. "You seem like a very capable young woman, I would have assumed people wanting to work with you were piling up on your doorstep."

You smiled sadly, somewhat flattered by the subtle compliment. "Well, then you assumed wrong. To me at least 'go work alone if you're so smart' doesn't really sound like people want to work with me. Neither does the ever so charming 'fuck off nerd'..."

"People really say that to you?" He frowned deeply, an almost sad expression making his sharp jawline stand out even more.

"All the time, actually…" You sighed, playing with the loose strings of your ripped jeans. "It's not that bad really. They can't hurt me anymore. I'm only so upset because I would have preferred to work alone."

"And Miss Jones wouldn't let you?"

"No… She said it was an important part of my education to learn to work with other people. Which is just ironic if you ask me…"

"Why is it ironic?" He asked curiously, obviously interested in your thoughts for real and not just out of politeness. That actually felt nice… not even your parents were SERIOUSLY interested in your opinion on things.

"It's ironic because I enjoy working with people, I'm good at it even. But I refuse to believe that working with people who put in zero effort and who don't own a single shred of basic human decency is 'preparing me for a realistic work environment'." You snorted, shaking your head at the stupid remark your teacher had given you. "I expect my equals to meet me with respect when working, even if we don't get along personally. Or at least to care about the project."

"I think you're right to do so." He shrugged. "I mean as a teacher I'm supposed to tell you now how valuable this experience is, and how you should try to work through your differences with your group, or even motivate you to find friends and such, but honestly… I totally agree with you. They're indifferent idiots, likely to maybe get a minor degree and eventually end up as chess pieces to brilliant minds like yours."

You rose an eyebrow at his comment, unable to keep the small smirk off your lips. "Well, that was honest."

He returned a slightly flustered smile, shrugging yet again. "You were honest with me and I intend to return the favor. I'm not your teacher after all, only A teacher."

"True." You smiled back. "And since the school year is already a few weeks in, it's safe to say that you won't ever be."

"I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing…" He mused, frowning to himself in contemplation. "I think I would've enjoyed hearing your thoughts and opinions in class."

"I would say it's a very good thing indeed!" You replied immediately. "The confinements of a classroom, of a predetermined social structure are rather counterproductive for a valuable conversation. I don't think we could, or would be talking like this if I was in your classes indeed. And you can always hear my thoughts and opinions… You do right now, after all."

"Okay, you convinced me. It is a good thing we met like this. Even though you probably don't enjoy me intruding the solitude of your lunch break." He chuckled, stretching out his incredibly long legs across the hallway to sit more comfortably.

"Oh, I don't mind at all! I mean I don't understand why you would willingly spend your time with me back here, but I most certainly appreciate the company. Most people don't really bother talking to me… it's nice having some who understands what I'm saying for once." You smiled, feeling both flustered and flattered. Having him here with you was nice indeed… it made you feel less lonely, less like you were the only one of your kind.

"Honestly, I thought I was here because I couldn't let you be back here alone, because of the rules. But I reconsidered that, and now I assume I'm here simply because I don't want you to be alone, to feel alone. And I find myself enjoying your company." He smiled calmly, and you were honestly surprised that you didn't feel flustered. Only… happy.

"I enjoy your company too..." You gave him another half smile, your voice quiet but certain.

"Whew, what a relief!" He laughed, smiling at you in sincere amusement, maybe even a little irony. "Even though I disturbed your reading time?"

"Yeah… you cheered me up, after all." You chuckled too, finding that you relaxed more and more in the time you spent with him.

"Good." He said contently. "Not feeling sad about the group project and your classmates anymore?"

"Nope. Only annoyed, honestly… I don't want them to ruin my good grade." You shrugged, pausing for a second before you spoke on. "That must sound really arrogant of me to say… I'm sorry."

"It's not arrogant at all. I understand you, more than you realize probably. I used to be like that in school too, you know… It's not easy. And I can't promise you anything, but for me at least things got better in college." His voice was so encouraging and kind that you found yourself feeling surprisingly calm, content even.

"Thank you." You smiled, openly and honestly. "For being here, and talking to me… For everything, I guess."

"You're always welcome." He smiled back, sighing. Only when he looked at his watch, his eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. "Fuck… class time started ten minutes ago!"

"Oh no…" You groaned in as little despair as possible. "I'm so sorry!"

"Nonsense, you don't have to be sorry!" He replied as you both hurriedly rose to your feet and made for the exit. "Time flies when you're having fun..."

"I hope Mr. Peterson doesn't kill me for being late…" You mused as you stepped into the hallway.

"Math or physics?" He asked with the ever present curiosity that by now reminded you so much of your own that you couldn't help but smile.

"Math." You sighed. "I hate being late, even though I know most of the things we're talking about already."

"I'm gonna show you to your class."

"You really don't have to, I mean I'm sure you have a class to attend to yourself…"

"Nah, it's alright. I'll be in less trouble than you, so the least I can do now is apologizing to Mr. Peterson for causing you to be late."

With that you both quickly made your way to your classroom, your skin prickling in both anxiety and excitement. And indeed, as you opened the door and quickly made for your seat with a deep crimson on your cheeks, you saw Mr. Hiddleston moving to say a few quiet words to your maths teacher before turning back around to leave, giving you a very subtle thumbs up and a small smile before disappearing out of the door.

_______________

For the remainder of the week and also the next two, Mr. Hiddleston would come by for the last ten minutes of your lunch break, sitting down with you in the hallway of your secret backstage world. You'd talk about your classes, his classes, the books you were reading… all kinds of things really, and you found yourself enjoying those conversations immensely. He was such an interesting person, a bright and brilliant mind full of ideas and fascinating thoughts, and somehow he seemed to see something similar in you.

However after three weeks of coming by only for the last bit of your break, something started to change. Every day, he would come a little earlier while you were actually waiting for him from the very first moment. Somehow this lunch break ritual had become your solemn reason to look forward to every new day, and you couldn't really bring yourself to mind it at all.

Eventually, after a while of him showing up earlier and earlier, he arrived mere minutes after you did and you spent the entire break talking about absolutely everything that came to your minds. Maybe it was due to your meeting space, or maybe due to whatever else, but somehow both of you seemed to grow increasingly fond of each other while growing increasingly less aware of the fact that you were still teacher and student. But it didn't matter, as long as you were just two people enjoying talking to each other. Some days you would be talking the entire time, some days he would bring a book and you'd both read together in comfortable silence, sitting across from each other in the hallway.

You talked about literature quite a lot, and about philosophy and society… each conversation as meaningful and yet as entertaining and light as you could only wish for.

Things were going really well, and by the time the Christmas break rolled around, you were certain that you had finally found one true friend in school, and in general. Even if he was a teacher and probably about twenty years older than you, but you honestly couldn't bring yourself to care.

On Wednesday night before the Christmas break, you finally decided that you would at least try to make a small attempt at showing him how much you appreciated your time together, how much you'd grown to value your friendship (even though you found yourself wondering if HE would consider you a friend in return). You wanted to give him a Christmas present. Nothing extraordinary, or special… only something he would appreciate.

What did he enjoy most? Literature, most definitely. Discussions, thoughts, emotions... You'd grown to know him quite well by now, to know some of the depths of his mind. But you also knew that he already owned probably every single piece of literature you could offer him. Maybe… no, that probably was just silly, wasn't it? But really… was it? The idea definitely stayed with you, and on Thursday morning you just followed instinct and went along with it.

When you dropped down in your hallway, placing your backpack next to you, you could already hear the door being opened and the same familiar footsteps approaching.

"Hey Y/n..." He greeted you with a smile, walking down the short hallway towards you. "How was art class?"

"Gosh, I think that the teacher forgets sometimes that we're adults too. She made us craft Christmas cards for our families… Maybe someone should tell her that in modern times, families expect good grades and perfect college applications for Christmas." You snorted, watching how he sat down in his usual place opposite from you with a small grin.

"I don't think your family has anything to worry about." He chuckled, looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that didn't cease to amaze you.

"Yeah, I have my application written already." You chuckled, smirking at him in amusement.

"You never told me where you want to apply…"

"Cambridge." You shrugged, smiling. "It's one of the best universities in the world. Really hard to get into."

"I'm sure you will get in with ease." He sighed. "If they spend a single minute talking to you, they will know just how extraordinary you are. Brilliant, really."

"You flatter me way too much." You chuckled, shaking your head. "Anyway…" With that you opened your backpack and pulled out a medium sized box, opening the lid with a grin to reveal a bright bunch of baked goods. "I made cookies yesterday afternoon!"

"Those look really tasty." He smiled. "What would Christmas be without some biscuits?"

"These are cookies! That's different." You laughed, knowing full well that he knew the difference indeed. He enjoyed teasing you way too much, but honestly… you enjoyed it too. "Come here now and try one, at least!"

His eyes widened a tiny bit, and he looked rather reluctant for a short moment, before pointing to the space next to you on the ground with a small gesture. "You… Uh, may I?"

"Of course." You replied calmly, with a bright smile, and a moment later he was sitting next to you, looking the tiniest bit flustered but content.

"I didn't know if it would make you uncomfortable to sit next to me." He shrugged a little, taking one of the cookies out of the box you were holding out to him.

"I'm not uncomfortable at all! I actually…" You felt your cheeks heat up for the first time in weeks while talking to him, and it made you stop in your sentence.

"You what?" He asked calmly, encouragingly and with the kindest expression as he leaned his head against the wall behind you, looking at you in curiosity.

"I consider you my friend." You finally brought out, feeling a little more embarrassed than you would've liked. Maybe he would think you're silly now, but just like you had noticed on the very first day… you couldn't lie to him.

"And that's making you blush?" He inquired in amusement.

"Well, I feel a little silly for expecting you, for wishing for you to befriend me too." You shrugged. "I'm sure you have more interesting acquaintances than me."

"I consider you to be my friend, Y/n…" He replied calmly. "I wouldn't be sitting here with you every day if I didn't."

You inevitably had to smile at that, looking down at the cookies in your lap. "Having a friend is amazing… Even if our friendship is a little…"

"Unusual?"

"Unlikely." You chuckled. "But no less real."

"Well… cheers to true words." He laughed, picking up another cookie from the box and happily munching away on it.

Slowly the box with the cookies grew emptier as the lunch break progressed, both of you talking about your plans for the Christmas holidays. Only when it was time for both of you to go back to your classes, when he moved to rise to his feet, you stopped him.

"Wait a second, I… I have something for you. A Christmas present, of sorts." You smiled, putting the empty cookie box into your backpack and instead taking out a neatly wrapped present. "It's really nothing special, but I thought you might find some joy in it."

His eyes lit up ever so slightly as he took the small gift out of your hands, gently, looking down at it with a soft smile. "I… thank you. Would you prefer me to open it now or on Christmas?"

"Oh, I really don't mind whatever you choose. You can just go ahead and open it, really… Like I said, it's nothing special."

"It is special to me, just because it is a gift from you." He gave you a sincere, wider smile before looking back at the present in his lap. "I'll open it now."

Carefully he unwrapped it and his smile broadened even more as his eyes fell upon the book in his hands.

"I know, giving a book to a literature teacher isn't the most creative idea, and I'm most certain that you have read it already, as it's truly amazing, but… literature just is what you love most. And you always seemed to enjoy my thoughts and ideas and random snippets of information." You spoke before he could. "So… I'm giving you my own copy of High-Rise, as it's one of my absolute favorites. I annotated it, put some papers and sticky notes in between the pages… with every thought and idea I had, every connection I could draw and every oh so little snippet of my thoughts."

The way he smiled at you then reminded you of the first day you had met… he was this ethereal creature, a being made of bright light and warmth. And more intelligence than healthy, probably.

"It's one of my all time favorites too." He replied quietly, yet with so much adoration and happiness that you couldn't help but grin. "This is one of the most amazing presents anyone has ever given to me and I cannot thank you enough."

"You're very welcome." You replied happily. "I hope you enjoy my thoughts."

"I know I will." He turned to you, smiling. "But unfortunately, very unfortunately, we have to go to class now."

"There's always tomorrow." You smiled as both of you rose to your feet, making your way to class indeed.

When you sat down in your hallway on Friday noon, you honestly felt sad that this would be the last day for two weeks you got to talk to Mr. Hiddleston. Not only because he was your (only) friend, but also because he, and your conversations, really were the only things that were able to keep your mind entertained and busy. You'd miss him.

Yet once he showed up and you got talking, you quickly felt a lot better. Just like you always did. Finally, shortly before classes started and you would have to say goodbye to each other, he placed a small and neatly wrapped gift in your lap with a bright smile. “I thought I’d return the favor… Your present really did make me very happy and I dearly hope this will do the same for you.”

Your eyes widened a little and your slips formed a smile on their own account. "Thank you so much! That's very sweet of you, but you really didn't have to…"

"Oh, I wanted to give this to you anyway. I had planned it for a while now, but your present yesterday… made me reconsider yet again." He grinned. "Do open it, please."

With an excited smile you unwrapped your present, also finding a book, but one you hadn't read yet. That alone made you grin; of course he would give you a book too… You loved literature after all probably just as much as he did.

"This is another one of my favorites…" He smiled, sitting next to you once more. Even without the cookies, somehow you'd just sat down next to each other today without questioning it. "The Night Manager… It's a fascinating read, John le Carré has an amazing style of writing. Have you read it?"

"I actually haven't, no… but I will after Christmas break!" You smirked.

"I planned on giving you this book just like that, but I absolutely loved your idea… So here's my own, annotated version." He smiled brightly. "I've had it since college."

You flipped open the first page, careful not to lose any of the papers tugged into the book. Then you smiled so bright that no Christmas lights could have compared to you. On the first page it read 'To Y/n, in hopes that we will continue to have these conversations in person for many years to come. Your friend, Tom.'

______________________________

General tag list:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @thidls12333 @tomstoobeautiful @dreary-skies-stuff @averyhill4445 @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @beenthroughalot

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[sirenasinsib]

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” 

You ran through the maze of back alleys hoping that it would be too small for the large robot to follow but still it -he- was behind you. The sound of his large form crashing slightly into the buildings as he ran to you. 

You turned only to come to a dead end, your only options are to run back down the same way you came from, but you were out of breath, your body burned, or to hid behind the garbage bin and hoped that he was an older model that couldn’t scan through metal. 

“Ohhh a little human game? Hide and Seek? I like this game. Humans are adorable thinking that they can hide.” 

The quiet clang of metal on concrete slowly got louder as the robot drew closer. 

“I wonder hmmm.”

Suddenly police sirens went off near the alley and you could hear the screech of metal and could guess that the thing turned sharply to the sound. Then the clang of metal was loud before fading out quickly. Did he run? 

Slowly creeping your head from behind the garbage bin, you didn’t see him there anymore. A noticeable scrape of paint on concrete was all that remained. You put a hand to your head, tangling slightly into your hair as you gave a small laugh of relief. 

You didn’t know why he chased you, deciding to stay clear or him or any activities that might  draw him, noticeable anything with fire, but he watched you and gave chase when you panicked and ran.

It was too late before you felt the cold rubber like appended wrap around your waist as another went over your mouth. Your scream cutting off suddenly as you were pulled up before being thrown to a gravel floor and his large legs slammed over your right arm and left leg. 

He gave a laugh as the wires untangled from your body it felt all over. The blank faceplate was a dark blue as it leaned in very close.

“Did you think a few police sirens would scare me? How wrong you are.” 

“What do you want with me?” 

You growled defiantly once the wire left your mouth. His head tilted, the ear like fins flicked. 

“To study of course.”

Your stomach dropped more than you thought it could. You felt like crying, was this really it. You were gonna die to a twisted robot who wanted to study humans.

“Oh no, not like that, something more. . . intimate.”

A wire had trailed down to your pants and slithered over your hips and thighs, very close to dipping between your thighs. The sudden feeling surprised you but the more rational part did not want anything to do with this robot. 

“C’mon now. I’m told that I am very nice.” 

“Nice would be asking for a date, not chasing someone like they're an animal.”

It slammed its large hand near your side. 

“If I wanted to chase you like an animal, I would have done so.” 

If it wasn't for the fear you felt currently, that statement might have turned you on. Slowly he rose himself. The four wires snaking around your body again as it released your arm and leg. Lifted up again as the wires twisted and flipped you in the air. 

"What are you doing? We're are we going?"

The head twisted slightly to look back at you but stayed mostly forward as the wires kept you to its back.  

"Somewhere more quiet, where I can hear you scream unbothered."

You were about to yell or ask another question before a wire slid over your mouth. 

The ride to. . .wherever you were was shaky. He crawled along the walls or jumped from roof to roof. You tried breaking free a few times when the fall was safe enough but it just cooled tighter like a snake. Biting the wire in your mouth proved futile. It caused the bot to halt and purr slightly, the sound and feeling of it vibrated through your body as electricity crackled and shocked you slightly. 

Your body gradually got to a numb like state, perhaps it was the acceptance that you were stuck with this robot or due to the weather or even the electricity it seemed to send your way, you weren't sure. 

Eventually he slowed down before jumping to the ground. It walked and based on the surroundings you could only guess it was an old abandoned factory. 

A wire coiled away once inside the building and slammed the large garage door shut. The other three extended from his back and brought you towards is front and gently placed you on an old bed. 

"Unlike my attitude I don't enjoy forcing. So the faster you cooperate the faster we can both get what we want." 

His small hands petted over your hair and neck before going to your shoulders as it felt, it didn't move the jacket or shirt purposely, letting its fingers get caught on the clothes before pulling them away to pet somewhere else. 

The bigger set of hands stayed steady at your waist. Pinning you there but with the option to move slightly. The wires danced carefully along your skin, snaking into your hair to run by your ear, another from your ankle and up to your thighs before it darted to your hip and behind to your back. 

"What do you want?"

He gave a sigh. 

"Must I spell it out? And here I thought you were smart, or are the records of yours lying." 

"What happened afterwards? If I accept."

"When you accept and I get what I want I'll let you go back to your life right before I plucked you out of the city. Besides your smart enough to accept, unless you want to starve to death."

"You dont think I'll tell the cops?"

"That a human was kidnapped by a large and powerful robot, was fucked with your consent and it let you go. We both know they call you a slut. . . Is that what you are?"

It nuzzled its faceplate into your neck, mocking a kiss. It didn't seem like a bad idea, you would get screwed, no strings attached, wouldn't get killed, and hopefully not hurt, more than usual when it comes to sex and robots. 

And well when it came to robots you couldn't deny the small attraction to them. The interactive designs, the powerful builds that could crush but don't, because they know how to not do that.  

"Fine, just - just dont hurt me."

"See that's the thing that bothers me about humans."

He spoke as he slowly pushed at the jacket 

"Why do some of you want to be treated badly, what makes you love the pain, but what also brings you that spot-

A large hand had moved down and squeezed your thigh slightly, the thumb so close to just touching your center. 

"-of pleasure, of pure bliss. I want to see just how I can break you."

Your shirt was gone next, the wires and his small hands tracing gently over your skin, tapping slightly on the few bits of cybernetics. Then the wires started to latch, a sudden influx of need laced in electricity pulsed through. A sharp gasp left you from the sudden feeling and he laughed. 

"Didn't know that we could do this, that I could do this, did you?"

You didn't speak, couldn't, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and just the constant pulse of the desire. You squirmed and he lifted you. One of the free wires plucked at the button and zipper of your pants before his hands came down to pull them and your shoes off. 

Slowly one of his smaller hands trailed along your legs before resting on your stomach, the other going up higher before a finger tapped at your lips. 

"You don't want me to hurt you."

There was humor in his voice before your lips opened and slowly the finger pushed in. It tasted like a soda can. The metal itself was rugged slightly and worn. You watched his reaction, seeing the fins flick slightly as the wires bent and swayed his other three hands pet along your thighs, hips, waist, and butt. All it did was make you warm and wet. 

Suddenly his other hand and a wire grabbed at your panties and ripped them off. The sound of protest caught in your throat from his fingers. A purr like laugh escaped him. 

He pulled his hand away, a small pop noise came out. His finger circled the nub and folds slowly, the metal may have warmed slightly from your mouth but it was still a difference in temperature. 

Slowly a finger slid in leaving you to gasp again and give a quiet moan. You could feel the purr that left him with the finger inside. Slowly he moved it forward and back as his thumb played with the nub. Then he curled his finger and you slammed a hand over your mouth to stop the moan from escaping you. 

"Now now."

He stopped moving, the pleasure from the wires on your cybernetics stopped as well and it caused a quiet whine. 

"You need to be louder than that, I want to hear you."

Slowly your hand moved away and a purr came from the large bot. 

"Good girl, now . . . speak."

The finger moved quickly, curling again, letting a shuddering moan out quickly. The bot continued his pace before slowing to ease another finger in. 

"So soft yet tight. I wonder just how much will it take to break you."

"Nnnhhh you got a thing for breaking stuff."

"Only in the most pleasurable ways."

A third finger was added and it made you hiss quietly. Slowly it drew back to only two. The fingers spread and started to scissor as they moved in and out. 

The pleasure was rising steadily now, leaving you panting and tugging at the bed to not cover your mouth. Then he pulled his fingers back, leaving a small empty feeling. 

The wires were coiled tightly around you, having not noticed from focusing on the fingers he lifted you with them, spinning you to have your back to his chest as he moved away from the bed, only to stop in front of a large mirror. 

"Oh."

Was all that came out of you, seeing your naked form, held by curling wires, your legs being spread by his own large ones. Your skin, slightly sweaty and flush. 

The small right hand trailed up before grabbing at your collar bone, more like holding then squeezing. His left rubbed along your body as his large hands went back to your thighs. Cupping from the front, the left one slid slowly before cupping your mound. 

A finger slid in easily, the second one as well. It was exotic seeing his fingers slide in and out as his other hands and wires curled around your body. You could see a small light flow through the wires, a question on your lips but it was cut off as a sudden wave of him came through. 

You could feel the fingers like it was you sliding them in and out, that it was you who was holding someone like this and screwing them in front of a mirror. 

You groaned loudly at the feeling and a third finger was added. His right hand slid over to your cunt but instead rubbed lightly at the nub. Slowly the pace increased, as did your moans and their volume. 

"Covert!"

You shouted his name, pleading to hit that edge, the wires tightened their hold as did his hands, they squeezed slightly as the pace continued. 

You spoke his name, again and again, getting the reactions stronger now till something snapped and you came with a shout. The aftershakes going through as slick dribbled out onto his hand and floor. 

You jolted slightly, feeling Covert do the same as the faceplate slowly started to gain its cyan blue color. The fins flicked repeatedly as his grip relaxed, changing the hold to something like a Bridal style as he brought you to the bed and placed you there. His body lowered, a metal clang resounding and you could only guess he was laying on the floor as his ruler body laid on the bed. 

"Rest for now, I will return you to where I first saw you later." 

The wires curled away before they grabbed the blanket and brought it over your body. The wires retreated, the only contact to the bot was the soft petting he was doing to your head, letting his fingers smooth out the knots gently. 

It wouldn't hurt to sleep for a bit.