#not me going feral for this man even though he hate our guts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bill-y · 4 years

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INURE

Peeta Mellark x Reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part four: Click here, rooroorara shooty shooty vang vang

Part five: You're right here, silly!

Part six: Click here, war criminal of 1878!

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

The moment the anthem finished, we were taken into custody. It's not as if we were cuffed or anything; a group of Peacekeepers simply marched us through the front door of the Justice Building.

Each year, at least one of the tributes tries to escape; I've never seen one successfully do so.

Once inside, they put me in a room. It's the most prosperous place I've been to. With a thick carpet in the ground and a weird couch made of fabric, I've never seen before.

It was a strange texture, almost like the weird fuzzy stuff in deer's antlers. My father called them velvet; was this the same thing? If so, that's a bit gross.

Despite this, I still caressed the couch; it was oddly comforting. Almost like you're patting a nearly hairless kitten. It switched from smooth to rough each time I ran my hands through it.

Then I remembered that we only had an hour to say goodbye to our loved ones before leaving for the Capitol. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I didn't want to cry at all; the cameras were trained on me. I'm sure the Capitol would eat my tears up.

The first people who came in were my mother and my brother. Kunal let out a sob as he ran towards me, practically throwing himself onto me. I hugged him, staying silent as he buried his face into my neck, afraid that if he let go, I would disappear.

But I needed to break it one way or another. "Mother," I called, my voice detached. Her green eyes met mine, her lips quivering. I gulped down my spit, taking another deep breath in. "Do you. . . Have any idea on how you'll support yourselves. . ?" I asked.

Her eyes landed on the thick, red carpet. "Not as of now," she answered grimly, "But Katniss' mother offered me some work at the apothecary,"

My arms around my brother tightened. Maybe Gale and Katniss could bring them some of the game as well, though I wouldn't count on it. Why would they help us when they have other things to worry about? It's not as if I could teach Nal how to hunt either. The boy's frightened by his own shadow.

All he's good for right now for picking flowers as much as I love him. A sigh escaped my lips, my chest falling slowly as the reality sunk in.

"Well, you must think of something," I told her, my brows furrowing. "I'm not going to come back; I won't be able to support you and—"

"No!" she barked, "No! You will come back, Y/n." she proclaimed, her eyes shaking. She clenched her, fists, "Swear that you will."

Bitterness rose within me. "Tell that to the Capitol, mother," I said coolly. "If I die, then I—." My words were cut short by the sobbing of my brother.

He sniffled, pulling away from my now wet neck. "You'll win, won't you?" he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his reaping clothes.

I felt my heart stop; what was I supposed to say to him? "No, Nal. I will surely die, don't count on it," a lump formed in my throat.

My eyes landed on my mother, who gave a stern look. It told me to lie, if not for her sake, then for my brother's. With shaky hands, I held my brother's shoulders. "I'll make it out; then we can— gather some flowers in Victor's village, yes?"

Nal nodded, hugging me once more. I took a deep breath before I started explaining what they should do. With mother possibly getting a job at the apothecary, perhaps they have a chance to survive, after all. Though I'm not sure, that's such a pleasant thought with the fact that I will die.

Soon enough, a Peacekeeper was at the door, telling them their time was up. I gave Nal a hard squeeze before pushing him off. My mother nodded at me; her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she did so. "I love you both,"

The words were stuck in my throat; I couldn't say them. Maybe it was because of my strained relationship with my mother or because I hated the fact that I had just given my brother a false sense of hope. I simply watched as they walked away, hand in hand.

Nal's watery blue eyes looked back at me one last time, a look of sadness. He knew I was lying. I sounded unconvinced when I told him. My posture slumped; I felt horrible. Our maker is siis merely, I suppose.

The next visitor was unexpected; Peeta's father, the baker. My gut churned; I was off to kill his son soon. Why has he come to visit me? Perhaps he has come to beg me not to kill his son? Not that I could either way, Peeta was stronger than me: it was clear as day.

He handed me a small piece of parchment. It was filled with warm cookies. A delicacy. He must've visited his son; after all, why would he just me cookies? I was about to die anyway; why feed a dead man?

I let out a huge breath, "How was the squirrel?" my voice pierced through the thick silence. He shrugged, "Alright," he answered. Then another wave of silence hit us. I sniffed awkwardly, the scent of fresh bread entering my lungs.

I couldn't think of anything to say. What was I supposed to do? ApoloApologisebe, but I never really liked apoloapologisingee no need to. If I'm sorry, then I'll show it. We sat in awkward silence before the Peacekeepers told him his time was up. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I'll keep an eye on the little boy, make sure he's eating," He stated before leaving. I felt the pressure lift from my chest. They may not like me much, but Nal was practically an angel to them. An angel born in a family of rebels, I'm guessing, is their thoughts.

The next guest then entered. Madge. Her expression wasn't weepy nor evasive, nor did she wear that bright smile she always had when she was around me. It looked urgent. She walked straight to me, the urgency in her tone quite surprising, "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home, will you wear this?" she holds out a circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier.

My brows furrowed, "Your pin?' I said. Does she really to die wearing rich-people-things? That hasn't even crossed my mind. . .

"I'll put it on your tunic, alright?" She said, not waiting for my answer as she leaned in and fixed the bird on my chest. "Promise me you'll wear it to the arena, Y/n. Promise me," She took my hand, her thumbs rubbing the back of my own.

Compared to Peeta's, hers was cold yet soft, almost as if she was nervous, worried. But why would she? I barely talk to her; she's the one who always strikes a conversation. All I do is nod and disagree at certain times.

She leaned closer to my face; I gave her an uncertain smile, pulling away. "Thank you, Madge," I muttered. She nodded, letting go of my hands. "Please, stay safe," her voice trembled as she rushed out of the room. I was left standing there, confused. What was that? Why did she visit me despite my rudeness earlier?

Next was Gale and Katniss. I didn't hesitate to hug both of them before pulling away with a sigh. "Hey, you'll be fine," Gale reassured, patting my shoulder. I stayed silent, only nodding. Katniss gave me a pity smile, "I'm sure it would be fairly easy to get knives, Y/n."

A sigh left my mouth, "I know— I just— Don't want to—" I stammered, making a stabbing motion with my hand. Gale gave me a pitied look, "It's just like hunting, Y/n. You're the best hunter we know," he said.

"They're not animals. They think; they're armed." I reasoned, my voice trembling. Why did I have to feel these emotions now? Maybe reality has finally settled in, the truth that I'll never see any of these faces again. On the off chance that I do, I'm sure they'll view me differently, a cold-blooded murderer.

"What's the difference, reale said grimly. Those words echoed in my head as they went away with the Peacekeepers. What is the difference? We're all just feral dogs forced to fight or cocks pit against each other.

I took a deep breath as I got called to ride a wagon to the train station. It was a relatively short ride. We never really had the luxury of these; we always had to travel by foot.

I silently thanked myself for not crying; there were insect-like cameras trained onto my face. Thankfully, I knew how to act, to bite my tongue. If I hadn't, I'd probably be screaming profanities. My eyes glanced onto the television screen; I look bored. Which, I surprisingly was.

It was as if my spirit left me already.

Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, had obviously been crying. However, he didn't even try to hide it, which was quite odd. Was this his strategy? To appear weak and vulnerable to assure the other tributes that he was no threat? This worked for a girl from district 7. Johanna Mason.

She seemed frightened, a cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until only a handful left. She then killed them all, with no problem whatsoever. I remember watching this game, quite shocked. She sold her act to me, but then again, maybe I'm just oblivious.

This worked for her because she looked frail, weak. Peeta applying this strategy was quite odd. Not only did he not look soft, but he was also jacked. He just looked like a big doofus. All those years having bread to eat and hauling trays made him physically capable.

Annoyance rose through me when we had to stand by the train's entrance while cameras gobbled out images up. I was sure I no longer looked bored but rather pissed. It wasn't like I was about to put on a pretty smile for them. These jester-dressed-worms should know how I feel.

Finally, we boarded, and the train began to move at once. The speed took my breath away. It was going faster than I could ever think of. The scenery around us just blurred—a mix of the neutral colour palette that made up District 12.

We were taught about coal in school. Some basic maths and reading before it circled back to coal again. Our district was used for coal mining, even hundreds of years ago.

Then there are the weekly lectures about the history of Panem, which never fails to annoy me. It's all blather about how we owe the Capitol because of the rebellion and whatnot.

I knew they're hiding something; we couldn't have lost that easily. I always think about this whenever I'm up in the trees, daydreaming, which is why I'm always the last one to arrive at the hill.

The tribute train was much fancier than the room at the Justice building. We were given our own rooms, a dressing area and private bathroom with cold and hot running water. We've never really had hot water readily available at home; we had to boil it.

Though I can't say, I like it, with all that effort I just end up not liking the bath. I much prefer the cold, flowing current of a river.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket told me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my father’s tunic and take a cold shower. I’ve never had a shower before. It’s like being in the rain, inky much tamer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants, trying my hair to the usual, small pa

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wingtips. I suddenly recognise it—a Mockingjay.

Funny little birds, my favourite creature in the forests, that's for sure. These were a slap to the Capitol's face. They genetically altered animals as weapons. Muttations as we call them, or Mutts for short. One particular kind was a bird they labelled Jabberjay, able to memorise and repeat whole human conversations.

Homing birds, exclusively male that were released into regions where the Capitol’s enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they’d fly back to centres to be recorded. It took people a while to realise what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centres were shut down, and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

But they didn't die; instead, they mated with the female mocking birds and produced this weird species that can replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They've lost the ability to enunciated words but could still mimic a range of human vocal cords.

My father used to sing them a lot. I guess he passed that habit down to me. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I find myself singing to the hummingbirds, who surprisingly listen and replicate my Father's song. It was a simple melody, made of 10 notes at least.

It warmed by heart, especially at times where I miss him. I smiled, fastening the pin to my shirt, the dark green as its background.

Effie came to collect me. I followed her through a narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. There waiting for us was Peeta Mellark, the chair beside him empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" Asked Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him he said he was going to take a nap," said Peeta. "Well, it’s been an exhausting day," said Effie Trinket. I think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can blame her?

Food came in courses. Though I barely touched the carrot soup, the chocolate cake, lamb chops nor the mashed potatoes. I wasn't going to eat this, not from the Capitol.

My jaw clenched as Effie told me to eat up, smiling brightly at me. I gave her a pained smile, slowly taking a bite of the lamb on my plate before swallowing it roughly.

A swirl of guilt formed in my stomach, was I eating really this luxurious food whilst Nal and mother struggle? I sighed, digging my nails into my palms.

Peeta looked at me oddly as he stuffed his face, he nudged my side and nodded towards the food. I simply shook my head, pushing the plate away.

Effie put her lips together at my stubbornness. She was muttering something about having no manners.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that since none of them has to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be in our competition. A few stand out in my mind.

A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Nal in size and demeanour. Only when she mounts the stage and task for volunteers, all you can hear is the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There’s no one willing to take her place.

Last of all, District twelve. It showed Nal getting called and me volunteering. The commentators weren't sure about what to say regarding the silence. I only smirked at this, crossing my legs in amusement. Just in time, Haymitch fell from the stage, earning a comical groan from the commentators.

Peeta silently took his place on the stage; we shook hands and then just cut to the anthem.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Unexpectedly, Peeta laughed. "He was drunk." He said. "He's drunk every year."

"Everyday," I added, finally breaking my silence streak with a smirk. Effie makes it sound kike Haymitch just had rough manners that could easily be dealt with.

"Yes," She hissed "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in a mess.

"So laugh away!" said Effie Trinket. And so I did, I barked out mocking laughter as she hopped in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and fled the room.

Word count: 2974

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@nin3s

#hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #peeta mellark x male reader #peeta mellark x reader #peetamellark #x male reader #gale #male x male reader

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hiraemy · 4 years

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Lumine and the Goblet of Fire [part 2]

[part one]

word count: 2.7k

Act Two: Lumine and the stupid rumors

For some reason, it seems like Hogwarts students liked to gossip. A lot.

Really. It hadn’t passed a single week since the champion announcement, but it seemed like they had already traced a rough profile on all three competitors.

According to rumors, Albedo was the incredible handsome prefect of Ravenclaw. He was nothing but polite to teachers and creatures that lived in the school, however, he didn’t seem to be interested in anything that didn’t catch his attention, and liked to keep himself at a safe distance from other people. He did have a little sister named Klee, a Gryffindor first-year infamous for her pranks and for being at detention constantly. Also, some people claimed that Albedo was secretly Miss Lisa and Miss Jean’s secret love child(?)

In contrast, the rumors surrounding Childe were more… Disturbing, per say. Everywhere he went he attracted a bunch of girls who thought that could stalk him without anyone noticing— including the guy himself. Those girls, in turn, were the responsible for telling the whole school that Childe had some scars in his arms and back and trained his body a lot (not the magical kind of training though), and that he was part of a delinquent gang. Also, he apparently had at least three siblings, all of them taking their studies in Durmstrang and visiting Hogwarts for the time-being. When asking other students from their academy, it was confirmed that Childe’s best subject was the Dark Arts. Not the classic Defense of the Dark Arts, the one that was teached in Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, but the Dark Arts itself.

How reassuring.

However, when it came to rumors about herself, Lumine was lowkey salty. Not that she wanted to have a bunch of creepy stalkers following her into the Beauxbatons chambers, like Albedo and Childe probably had to deal with, but it was some kind of disappointing that the only thing that people could gather about her was her name, Paimon and Aether’s names, the fact that Aether was her twin and that Paimon was a half-fairy. Not even her favourite subject was discovered! How... disappointing.

“As cute as you are when you’re upset, stop pouting.” Aether shoved a finger in her cheek playfully, a teasing smirk gracing his lips.

“I’m not pouting!” Lumine glared at him, pretending to bite at the offending finger pettily.

“Yes, you are,” Paimon chipped on her twin’s other side, stuffing her mouth with the delicious breakfast offered by the school. “Shouldn’t you be more upset? Paimon is really glad that you’re not angry about the Tournament anymore, but—”

“And who said I’m not angry?” Lumine bickered, narrowing her eyes and chewing the bread with a pissed look. She gathered all the sarcasm she had in her body to rant. “I’m the only one in this group that has the brain cells to actually know that getting angry with you two will take me nowhere, especially that now I need to beat down god-knows-what fucking creature because certain someone made me enter this shitty competition and now I need to win against the genius of the century, which coincidentally, comes from the Hogwarts house that is clearly known for being full of prodigious geniuses, not to mention the smiling psychopath that comes from a school who teaches the uses of Dark Magic and also specializes in that same art, so the chances that he could curse me to the point that I drop dead in the blink of an eye makes me really confident that nothing could ever go wrong—”

Aether shoves another loaf of bread into her mouth, interrupting the stressed rant and earning himself a hateful glare from the blonde.

“Just go and say that you’re jealous” He said nonchalantly, Paimon nodding along. Lumine felt her cheeks flare up in anger, her eyebrows shooting upwards

“What? No! I’m not upset about that! Why the hell should I be mad about not getting enough attention for my skills?” Immediately after the words escaped her mouth she regretted them, Aether sending his best deadpan look.

"There you go. See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Lumine sighed.

Two weeks passed in a blink. Really. At some point, Lumine learned that she was terrible at controlling her thoughts— even more when she went to sleep. It was like a switch was flicked on her head, allowing her brain to go downhill with each possible way things could go wrong. An Abyss Mage invading her exam and burning her to death, a Whooperflower blooming out of nowhere and killing her with ice spikes or the air currents suddenly blowing her off her broomstick while in air. She felt like she woke up breathless too many times in those last weeks.

A bit too soon for her liking, the day of the first trial came.

The three Champions were led into a tent at the back of the arena with Mr. Alberich. No visitors were allowed, meaning that Lumine didn’t have Aether or Paimon to soothe her nerves— even if outside her face was still as stone, she felt like screaming on the inside. Albedo and Childe didn’t seem nervous, although she could notice Albedo messing with his fingers like a nervous tick. The Durmstrang student, however, seemed more bored than anything else.

At some point, there was a reporter trying to make her give a statement about how she felt about the tournament and what she did think about her peers— no, no way in hell she would ever admit being intimidated by them, thank you—, but her quiet answers probably made her quickly uninterested, so she went to snoop on Childe and Albedo. Did she feel guilty? No, they had seen it coming. That’s on them for being attractive, right?

“Enough talking, let’s take our draws for now.” Mr. Alberich interrupted the woman with a sigh, saving Albedo from his torture and showing a dust bag in front of Childe. “We’re going in the order decided by the Goblet—so, Mr. Childe, then Mr. Albedo and then Miss Lumine.”

The reporter left the tent after being shoed away and Childe put his hand on the bag. The way Kaeya held it made it impossible to see what was inside. His arm went deep until his elbows, and then he pulled something in his closed fist. Opening his fingers dramatically, it revealed a pretty heart-shaped crystal that was slightly transparent as water itself.

“Mr. Childe, your opponent is going to be Rhodeia of Loch, also known as Oceanid of Qingce. I’m expecting a good demonstration from you” He stated with a slight smirk, moving quickly so he was in front of Albedo. Lumine didn’t miss the satisfied look from Childe, but she preferred to not overthink too much.

Albedo repeated the same action from the ginger boy, pulling a dark blue fang from the bag. Kaeya’s eyes darkened slightly, before announcing, his shoulder tensing slightly.

“Mr. Albedo, you drew the Wolf of the North, Andrius. While I wouldn’t underestimate your abilities, I must warn you that this one is a particular feral beast. Wish you the best of luck” Lumine furrowed her eyebrows. The difference between Childe and Albedo’s speeches were so strikingly obvious that she knew that besides the magical abilities, the trial had a luck factor. She wasn’t happy with that.

Her luck nowadays was... Abysmal.

“Miss Lumine,” Mr. Alberich stood in front of her with the bag open, and she nodded, not wasting any time before shoving her arm down.

Her fingers brushed at the bottom, her mind providing that the bag probably was enhanced by a space spell, and she could feel various objects at the fingerprints, but wasn’t able to recognise any of them. Deciding to rely completely on her luck, she pulled the southwest one, rectrating her arm with a light-blue feather on it. Mr.Alberich’s eyes went wide at the sight before quickly recomposing himself, his shoulders heavy and lips pressed.

“This… Miss Lumine, this is Dvalin’s plume. Your opponent will be the dragon Dvalin, also popularly known as Stormterror, the Erstwhile King of the Skies. Good luck”

She shivered. Luck was never on her side, wasn’t it? Kaeya shifted, making the bag disappear from his hands with a flick of his wand, properly turning so he could address all of them with a professional tone.

“The goal in this first test is simple. You need to obtain those objects you drew from your opponent. It could be easily achieved when the beasts are dead or unconscious.” He explained, face stern. “Any questions?"

"Is it really necessary to defeat them?" Albedo asked, receiving a raised eyebrow from almost everyone in the tent.

"Not exactly, but I wouldn't count on that. I really doubt you convince the Wolf of the North to give you a fang, genius or not. However, if you can manage to collect, the trial will be considered a success even if you don’t take Andrius down. Is that all, Mr. Albedo?" When he didn’t protest any further, Kaeya proceeded, nodding to himself. "Okay. Now, we will shortly begin the preparations. There will be a screen on here so you can watch each other’s performances, but you won’t be allowed to leave the tent until the last champion completes her test, understood?”

“Yes!”

“Great. Now, give me a second. I’ll come fetch Mr.Childe shortly.”

"Hey, girlie"

Lumine flinched. A loud laugh came from behind her and she felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment, immediately correcting her posture so she could at least pretend that she wasn't daydreaming. Yeah, it didn’t fool anyone, but who cares?

"Calm down a bit, wont'ya?" The man, who she registered a bit too late as Childe, shot her a teasing smirk. "You look like a scared rabbit trying to gather their guts. It makes me uneasy, like I’m throwing you into the fire pitch or something,"

"Shut it!" Lumine glared at him, making the ginger haired man let out a laugh. From that angle, she almost could forget that he exhaled some dark vibes. Almost. She liked to think that she was a rational woman, not one to be allured by some good looks, and she trusted her gut enough to suspect when things were shady, even if it came from a pretty boy like him.

Yeah. She wasn’t going to be charmed by a smirk. Even if Childe was handsome.

Yeah, no way.

"You shouldn’t worry too much." He continued, obviously ignoring how Lumine glared at him.

"And why do you say that?" She crossed her arms in her chest, her hand palming the wand hidden in her clothes. Just by precaution.

"Because I heard of you, Lumine. I know who you are, a rough profile of your brother and your strange fairy. I also know a lot about your habits, the subjects you like the most, your strengths and weaknesses, the things you’re allergic to, and even some psychological analysis."

"...you realize how disturbing that sounds, right…?"

"I'm a kind of a bad guy, but I won’t give you that kind of trouble" He laughed again, ignoring the way she squinted her eyes.

"So you admit you're suspicious." Lumine deadpanned.

"Let's say that I just happen to have a really good network. Naturally I know a lot of things, especially from you and from that other Hogwarts champion." Childe dismissed smoothly, waving his hand.

"That doesn't help at all"

“Hm… What about this? It seems like Albedo has something like a girlfriend. Or not. Everyone knows that they like each other, but for some reason, they aren’t together yet. Also, his little sister is a little terrorist who goes around the castle bombing everything, so the teachers are pleading for him to do something about her—” He mindlessly rambled with a shit-eating grin, making Lumine raise her eyebrow in confusion.

“And why you’re telling me that?” She interrupted Childe before he could go on something more personal about the blonde boy.

“If I prove myself to not be interested in you in a creepy way, just a professional, rival-like way, would you cut me some slack? I mean, you always look at me like I’m going to cut your head or something, so—”

“Can you blame me? This is the first time we’re talking and you admit you have been stalking me— or at least you made someone do it for you. That’s not a good first impression”

"Well, I—"

"Not to mention that you probably sent someone after Albedo's little sister. Isn't she in her first year? Yikes…"

"Now you're just making me feel bad…"

"Yeah, you should—"

"Mr. Childe, it's time to go." Mr. Alberich entered the tent, interrupting Lumine. She sent Childe a look, expecting him to just turn and go, but he stood there with a glint in his eyes. She raised her eyebrow questionably.

"Aren't you going to wish me good luck?" He tilted his head, smirking.

"Why should I? You're my opponent." Lumine pressed her lips stubbornly.

"You got me there" Childe giggled unaffected by her dismissal, turning around and giving her a lazy wave.

"You probably don't need it anyway." Lumine muttered, not expecting him to hear it. The ginger haired man smiled.

A sincere one.

"What is this…?" Lumine frowned, looking at the suspicious looking vase. Kaeya gave her an amused look, raising his visible eyebrow.

"Never seen an abode portkey before?" He smirked, standing in front of the vase. "It's an adeptus technology, Miss Lumine. It allows the existence of a pocket size alternative dimension, with different laws regarding time and physics. We can watch you from the outside, but you can't see us from the inside. The ministry provided these portkeys exclusively for the Tournament, so each Trial could be held safely, without any risks for the viewers and reducing the collateral damage."

"That's lowkey terrifying." She deadpanned, earning a laugh from the older wizard. "So, how do I use it?"

"Touch the vase and you'll be pulled into it. The abode will reveal it's exit once you defeat Stormterror and collect his plume. Worst-case scenario, you'll be teleported outside if you forfeit the challenge." He explained cooly, crossing his arms above his chest.

"And what if I can't forfeit?" It was Lumine's turn to tilt her head, golden eyes analysing carefully the older man's face. He narrowed his eyes and his lips pressed together.

"Let's hope it doesn't reach that point, right? As stated in the Triwizard Tournament's rules, outside interferences are not allowed, even if it is to guarantee the Champion's safety. So, unless you give us the go to rescue you, there's nothing we can do about the trial."

"... got it." She grimaced, ignoring the mental images the warning gave her. Kaeya gestured to touch the ceramic, guiding her hand so her fingertips touched the ceramic.

"Good luck, Miss Lumine."

She opened her mouth to thank him, when everything spun. She felt her hand glue itself into the vase, the sheer force of it sucking her limbs into a dark hole until all of her body parts folded into each other and flew into oblivion. Lumine felt her insides shake, wanting to puke her lunch, but as fast as it came, the sensation left.

When Lumine finally felt her toes touch the ground, she builded the courage to open her eyes(when did she close them?). Instead of the tent she was before, now she stood on a stone platform that seemed that it could be destroyed with a few hits. She couldn't see the ground from there, a lot of clouds and fog covering her view from how high it was. The winds blew aggressively, making her hair whip in her face leaving a bit of a sting in her cheeks, and her clothes couldn't be tamed on her body. She was suddenly glad that she chose a more practical outfit for this trial instead of the blue skirt from Beauxbatons uniform.

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a roar. A loud, excruciating cry that echoed in every bone she had in her body. She couldn't exactly place it, but somehow… It was familiar. A painful and lonely sound that fell deaf to the void. From the deep bottom of the abode, Stormterror charged upwards, his wings cutting through the clouds and leaving behind harsh currents of pure power. Lumine covered her eyes with her arm, but even so, it was impossible to ignore the sheer beauty of the King of the Skies.

Fuck. She had to fight it.

#genshin #genshin impact #childe #lumine #aether #paimon #chilumi #albedo #kaeya #hogwarts!au #tartaglia

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noonachronicles · 4 years

Text

The Malebranche Pt. 3

Im Changkyun/I.M. X Reader & Lee Jooheon X Reader

Word count: 12k

Warnings: Per usual, there is cursing. This is demon smut. It’s literally smut with demons. This is 18+. There is a lot of unprotected sex. There is come casual exhibitionism/voyeurism. Demon threesome. It gets a little rough (face f**king and choking). I’m not your mom and I’m not the fan fiction police. So just don’t have unprotected sex and don’t fuck demons. Unless you’re being responsible and understand the consequences?? IDK! I don’t want to feel like I’m being held responsible for your actions and I also don’t want to tell you what to do. So there’s your warning.

Genre: Demon AU. Modern Fantasy. Sorta Soulmate AU

A/N: For @nemesyis. This used to be p*rn with a plot... but it seems I have now lost the plot. Now it's just some good ole fashion d in the p. Enjoy!

‘Hell is empty, and all the devils are here’. - William Shakespeare

Your hands gripped the banister of the third floor balcony so hard your knuckles were blooming white. Down below in The Red Room the night had already begun. Patrons on the stage with the dancers, dancers on the floor in the laps of patrons. Alcohol was flowing like a river downstream. Bass pumped through the speakers and Jooheon had his rock hard erection pressed against your ass. One of his hands gripped your hip while his lips stayed attached to the curve of your neck sucking a light bruise on your skin.

“You’re sure they can’t see anything up here?” you asked again.

“I’m sure.” he grinned against you, “If they could, would you ask me to stop?”

You tried to gulp down your urge for honesty, but it was impossible with his hands on you. The inability to lie, you’d found, was one of the few pitfalls of a demon boyfriend. “No.”

“It’s so cute that you continue to pretend to have even an ounce of modesty and restraint. Even after all this time, my little devil.”

The hand that wasn’t on your hip was massaging your exposed breasts. His fingers gently pinching your erect nipples. You weren’t completely naked. Jooheon had only dragged the top of your dress down to your hips. Your bra, you assumed, was somewhere on the ground behind the two of you.

It had been a couple months since your first night with him and you were slowly realizing that he was a fairly insatiable demon and only growing worse it seemed. It wasn’t often you could be found without his hands and mouth all over you. You weren’t one for complaining. In fact your need to be with him and be with him was growing stronger than ever and showed no signs of weakening any time soon.

Your eyes passed over the floor once more for any curious eyes as Jooheon continued to suck on every naked inch of you. No one was looking. Everyone was too busy with their own acts of sin. Though you did notice the top of a familiar head as it moved through the room to the bar. Maybe it was less the top of his head that called for your attention and more the loud gold, barocco jaquard Dolce and Gabbana robe he was wearing.

Changkyun was the only man you knew that was confident enough to pull off something so absurd. You had told him plenty of times that just because something was expensive didn’t mean it was fashionable. He rarely listened. It didn’t hurt your feelings because it wasn’t just you, he didn’t listen to anyone. Instinctually, your teeth dragged over your lip as you watched him. When he spun around and leaned against the bar you could see the white button down shirt and black pants he had under the robe. His tongue moved over his lips and you could see the silver glisten of his tongue ring. Sometimes when you noticed it you could still feel him inside of you.

He had a girl with him, he usually did, a blonde girl you knew you’d never see again. At least you’d never see her with him again anyway. Most of his conquests would come back night after night to try and get his attention once more and eventually give up when they realized he was done with them. You watched as he whispered something to her and she giggled. You rolled your eyes. Then you watched as her pretty little manicured hand moved up between his thighs until she was cupping his dick. There was no reason for it but you could feel the jealousy brewing in your gut.

“Baby,” Jooheon whispered against your ear, “Everything okay?”

“Mmhmm.” you pushed your ass back into him.

His plush lips met your skin once more and you closed your eyes for just a moment. When you opened them back up to the floor your eyes locked with Changkyun. He was smiling but it was more deviant than it was kind. He lifted his drink to his lips for a sip, never moving his eyes from yours.

“Honey…” you said quietly, “Could Kyun...would he be able…”

Jooheon rested his chin on your shoulder and looked down below. “Yes, he can see us.”

“Oh.”

“Do you like that?” he asked, you gasped as he dragged his tongue over your hot skin, “Do you want him to watch?”

“Yes.” you answered breathlessly.

Jooheon slipped his hand down your tense arm and pulled your hand from the banister. Finally looking away from Changkyun you watched as Jooheon slipped between you and the banister. There he pressed a kiss against your lips.

When he pulled back he was smiling, “If he’s going to watch, we should give him something beautiful to look at.”

“Like what?” you gulped.

“Like the face you make when you cum for me.” he grinned, his dimple digging into his cheek, and dropped to his knees.

His hand grazed your inner thighs as he reached underneath the skirt of your dress. A whimper passed your lips as his fingers met your dripping pussy. And you lunged forward against the banister when he pushed them inside of you. His head ducked under the skirt of your dress.

When your eyes made it back to the floor Changkyun was still watching. His friend for the evening had her hand in his pants now, working him properly. She was trying to get a kiss or any attention at all really, but his eyes were dark and narrowed in on you. Jaw clenched and lips tight, he looked feral.

Your mouth fell open in pleasure at the feel of Jooheon’s fingers moving inside of you, his mouth sucking on your clit. There had already been so much foreplay that you had been halfway to your orgasm before he’d even started and his agile fingers were making quick work of the second half. Changkyun’s chest was heaving and it made him look like he was panting. His tongue swiped repeatedly over his mouth, the silver ball of his tongue ring running back and forth across his lip. After several minutes his lips moved subtly, as if he were speaking under his breath, you could practically hear him urging you to cum. Cum for him, cum for Jooheon, for all three of you.

The blonde girl had moved her face in front of his so you lost him for a moment which you’d found deeply disappointing. Then, like he knew you needed to see him to finish, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed it to the side as he kissed her roughly. All you could see of him was his dark, starved eyes as they bore into you, urging you to completion but that was enough.

“Oh fuck.” You gasped out. Your eyes squeezed shut, thighs tensed around Jooheon’s cheeks and wrist. “That’s it...cu-cumming!”

When you were done you leaned forward against the banister to catch your breath. Having back a few of your senses you looked back down towards the bar but Changkyun and his friend were gone. Jooheon had stepped out from underneath your skirt and moved away for a moment but when he came back he had your bra in hand. It surprised you that he didn’t seem upset. You weren’t sure if it was that you thought he would be or that he should be, but part of you was a little chagrined.

“He thinks he’s in love with you.” Jooheon said quietly as he pulled the zipper of your dress up the length of your back, once you had your bra on. He was leaving soft kisses against your neck, where he’d already left his darkening splotches. Little maroon flags planted all over your body with his name on them so that everyone knew he’d staked his claim.

“Is that so?” You laughed, “I didn’t think he liked anyone.”

“He doesn’t.” he responded, “He doesn’t like anyone except you. That’s why he assumes it’s love.”

“But you don’t think it is.”

Jooheon shrugged and stepped beside you, leaning against the bannister to get a good look at the floor below. “Demons were angels once. We talked about that, remember? Angels and demons….we’re exactly the same, only demons have fallen. We had our wings replaced with horns as a punitive mark for our sins. We still feel and want for the same things. Angels are just demons that haven’t gotten caught yet.”

“How do you really feel?” you said, amused as you turned your back on the floor below so you could be face to face with Jooheon instead.

“It’s true. Angels are just as capable of selfishness and sin. They can be just as corrupt. Just as angry and violent. They can be cowards, liars, and thieves. The difference is they tuck their more nefarious traits beneath their robes so that everyone thinks them flawless. And just how angels can be like demons, demons are capable of all the things angels are, including love.”

“So you think he does love me?”

“I think it’s been a long time since he’s loved someone. A millennium. Perhaps longer. He is completely capable of love. However, he’s confusing the fact that he doesn’t hate you with the idea that he loves you. It’s been tearing him apart. I don’t blame him. Who wouldn’t look at you and think they were in love.” he smiled over at you, “Though I might be a little biased.”

Leaning forward you pressed a kiss against his dimple and leaned back against the banister once more. For a minute you observed Jooheon as he observed the club. He looked so neutral as he took in the crowd below. You lifted your hand to the collar of his shirt before letting your fingers slide down his chest. You thought about how it made you feel. Knowing there were other women who wanted Jooheon the way you had him. Neutral was not the emotion you felt being prominent.

“You don’t seem very upset that he thinks he’s in love with me.” you commented as casually as you could manage.

“It upsets me that he’s hurting.” He reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling it to his mouth to kiss your palm.

“Oh.” You said quietly, he was always surprising you.

Jooheon raised a thoughtful, almost amused, eyebrow and looked over at you. “Do you think I should be more upset?”

You shrugged it off, “I don’t know.”

“When you say I don’t seem upset, do you mean I don’t seem jealous?” he grinned. You tried to look down at your feet but he grabbed your chin between his fingers and lifted your eyes to his. His eyes were sparkling, amused with the ashamed look on your face and in your eyes. “Do you wish I was more jealous? Would you like me to be more possessive of you?”

You could taste the truth at the back of your throat. “Yes.”

Dropping his hand from your face he laughed lightly, “Do you want to know why I’m not more jealous?”

“Yes.”

He stood up straight and reached down to grab your hand. He brought your arm up to the space between you and turned your hand over, palm side up. Your eyes followed his fingers as they moved up your arm from your wrist to your elbow. He pointed to the patch of freckles. Your very own constellation.

“Do you remember I told you about Perseus and Algol?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“They’re more than just a fancy set of freckles. They mean you’re marked.” He said. “You’re mine.”

He turned his head so you had a good view of this side of his neck. Along his hairline were five freckles that matched yours exactly.

“I’m a bad girlfriend.” You whispered as you brushed your fingertip along his freckles.

“How so?”

“I don’t know every inch of you.” You frowned, “I didn’t even know those were there.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to learn every inch.” He grinned, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What do they mean exactly?” You asked, “The marks? Why does it mean that we share them? Are you mine as well?”

“Yes. We were destined for one another.” He shrugged, “It means I never have to worry about any other person's intentions with you because no matter what they do or how hard they try, you’ll choose me.”

“So I shouldn’t worry either?”

“You never have to worry.” He smiled, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “Even if I slept with a hundred others, I’ll always belong to you.”

You shook your head, “Okay but...please don’t ever do that.”

Jooheon laughed and wrapped his arms around you, “I won’t. You could do the same and it wouldn’t bother me either. Sex is just sex. What we share is eternal.”

Slipping your arms around his waist you rested your head on his shoulder. After a moment you let out a thoughtful hum. “I think I have an idea. I think I know how to make Changkyun feel better.”

It took a few weeks to figure it all out, but you and Jooheon came up with the perfect plan. Surprises were difficult with Changkyun because he was such a clever and overly suspicious demon. Not to mention you couldn’t lie to him. Pulling one over on him was nearly impossible. It was also important to be very methodical with him. You couldn’t just come out with your proposal, he’d never agree to it outright. He would have to already be halfway in the scenario for it to work and even then both you and Jooheon had concerns that he’d be too hesitant and back out anyway.

You knew you had to try, you knew that even if he couldn’t admit it, this was something he wanted. After diligent planning together, there was some time needed for preparations, and then finally it was time for the execution. You were ready. Well, you were as ready as you were ever going to be.

On the day the plan was to be set into motion it was raining. Jooheon assured you that it was a good omen and that you shouldn’t worry. The guys didn’t live at The Eighth Circle, contrary to many of the rumors that were told about them. They lived in what you thought was a surprisingly modern, luxury penthouse at the top of the tallest building in the entire city. You’d expected something more vintage, a dark cozy home that was decorated like the club. Regardless of what you expected you were always there. Actually at that point you were there so often with Jooheon that you more or less lived with them. So it was no surprise to Changkyun when he walked down to the open kitchen around midmorning and you were already sitting on one of the stools in front of the island.

As was usual, the morning paper was spread out in front of you while you sipped from your mug of hot coffee. You were in one of Jooheon’s oversized shirts and a pair of shorts so short that for a moment he thought you weren’t wearing any at all. He closed his eyes, willing himself to keep it together. Having you there was often torturous. He would have complained to Jooheon but he was also a glutton for punishment.

Moving into the kitchen he cleared his throat, “Morning.”

He noticed the slight jump you gave at his presence and smirked while he pulled a clean mug from the cupboard.

“Good morning!” You said cheerfully, though not too cheerfully.

It was a tricky balance and you were already nervous. That and you were also a bad actress. All of these winning factors put together had you feeling ready for an absolutely successful quest. That was if a graceless failure was your ultimate intention. Changkyun looked over his shoulder at you curiously but just for a moment before turning back to the coffee pot that he’d emptied into his mug, and started a new batch.

“What’s with you?” he asked, back still turned.

“Nothing, it’s just such a beautiful day and Jooheon is free all afternoon.” you sighed, “I’m just… excited.”

“Oh yeah?” he said sarcastically, pouring sugar and cream into his mug, “You two actually going to do something besides sit around here all day sucking face?”

“That’s not all we do.” you muttered into your coffee. You missed his exaggerated eye roll.

With his first cup of coffee prepared and more brewing in preparation for a second, he finally turned around to look at you. He looked from you through the double story glass curtain wall that overlooked the entire city. A look of suspicion passed over his features.

“Beautiful day-” his face scrunched in disbelief and he looked back at you, “It looks miserable out there. You’ll definitely be stuck inside all day. And I’ll be stuck with you so... great for everyone.”

You shrugged innocently and looked back down at your paper as he leaned against the counter to shuffle through the sections you weren’t reading. Both of you stayed there quietly, pretending to be reading your bits of paper. In reality you were trying to think of ways to make yourself more appealing. Trying not to come off as awkward you attempted to show off the length of your neck, you sucked on your bottom lip for a bit, and even stretched your arms out releasing a quiet, albeit overly sexual moan. Changkyun clenched his jaw as he stared down at the paper trying his best not to imagine taking you over the counter.

Lucky for both of you Jooheon made his way happily down the stairs. “My two favorite people!”

Changkyun rolled his eyes so hard his head rolled back with them and he groaned loudly. Ignoring his incredibly common reaction, Jooheon made his way to you like a magnet, wrapping his arms around you and planting a kiss against your mouth.

“I hate it here.” Changkyun muttered to himself.

“If you actually hated it, you’d have left by now.” Jooheon shot back.

Changkyun rolled his eyes again, though less dramatic. “What are you all dressed up for?”

“I have to go out for a bit for business. Finalizing some paperwork details with the new brokerage company.”

“That’s weird. Why would you do it today?” Changkyun turned to prepare his second coffee of the morning, “It’s your day off. Just have them come to the club tomorrow night and do it there.”

“I just want to get it over with. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Jooheon shrugged. “Take good care of my girl for me.”

Turning around to look at the two of you he scoffed, “Yeah, sure.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Jooheon said quietly and left a kiss against your temple.

Changkyun faux gagged, and turned back around to finish getting his second coffee ready. After you heard the click of the front door you waited for the right moment. It was quiet between the two of you again. Just the sound of you sipping coffee, Changkyun’s silver spoon clinking against his ceramic mug as he stirred his drink, and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Once you figured a sufficient amount of time had passed you looked up from the paper you were reading. Changkyun had been leaning back against the counter, head tilted slightly as he watched you. When you caught him staring he didn’t even bother to look away.

“What?” you blushed.

He shrugged, “You want something from me.”

“What?” you scoffed, “What makes you think that?”

“I am a demon.” he reminded you, “I always know when someone wants something. Call it a trick of the trade.”

You let out a slow breath, what better time than now. “Okay, yeah. I want your opinion on something.”

Changkyun stepped forward towards the island and leaned against the counter on his elbows. “I am very opinionated.”

He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you and honestly it was making your blood heat up in your veins already. You wanted to look away from him but you knew you had to at least match his level of control and confidence. Jooheon had told you it was the only way this would work.

“I wanted to do something for Jooheon, a sort of thank you for how amazing the last couple of months have been.”

He groaned, not shying away from letting you know how gross he thought it was. “You want me to tell you what to get your boyfriend?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I already have an idea. I just wanted your opinion on if you think he’ll like it.”

“Okay,” he sighed, “What is it?”

“It’s um...I can’t really explain it. I’d have to show it to you.” you dragged your teeth over your lip, “Do you have some time now?”

He looked you over for a long moment. You could tell he didn’t really want to, but you also knew he had a soft spot for you and that’s why there was any conflict in his decision at all. With a low groan he nodded, “Why not?”

Your face lit up with a smile. “Give me five minutes and then meet me in the library?”

Not waiting for a response you hurried out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to the bedrooms. Changkyun was admittedly curious about your plan as he waited the five minutes. When he went down the hall to the office space they used as a library, he only found himself that much more intrigued. The curtains were drawn, which they never were. Only the smaller lamps were turned on, not the overhead lighting, and each one had been draped in red and purple fabrics. You had moved the furniture so that the floor was cleared save for a single, armless sitting chair in the center of the room. When he walked inside he found a card on the seat of the chair that said simply for him to sit. He could already feel his pulse quicken in anticipation.

“Ready?” your voice came from somewhere outside of the room.

“I assume so.” he called out and took a deep breath.

The speakers hidden around the room filled the air with a slow tempo rock song. He watched as you slipped into the room and slid the doors shut before turning around to face him. He inhaled deeply at the sight. You changed into one of Jooheon’s button down shirts over your too short shorts. A pair of black thigh high stockings accentuated your legs, and a pair of stilettos adorned your feet. Your hair was on the top of your head in what appeared to be a thoughtless bun, but was what had taken you most of the five minutes you were upstairs.

“Wh-what is this?” he stuttered out.

“Is it too much already?” you asked squirming slightly, your thighs rubbing together. He almost choked, inhaling too sharply at the view. “I thought the heels were too much, but the stockings feel silly without them. And I would have taken them off but I wanted to make sure that there was enough to take off to keep it interesting, you know?”

“You’re going to dance for him?” Changkyun asked as his mouth started to water more with each step you took towards him. “You’re going to strip?”

“Is it stupid? I know he sees this kind of thing all the time at work, but do you think he’ll like it?” you asked

“Can’t imagine that he’d hate it.” he said with a tense exhale.

“Can I show you some of the stuff the girls at the club showed me?” you asked, “You can tell me if it’s good and what I should change?”

“He did say to take good care of you.” he sighed, “What’s under the shirt?”

“That comes later, Kyunnie.” you grinned as he flushed at the nickname, and stepped around the chair behind him.

You placed your hands on his biceps and dragged your fingers up to his shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze before slipping your hands down his chest. Your lips left little kisses against his neck while you dragged your hands back up his chest enough to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.

“I thought we were undressing you.” he said with a gulp.

Pulling his earlobe between your teeth you hissed out a shush and pulled open the red satin dress shirt to reveal his collarbone and shoulders. His eyes fluttered closed as you moved your mouth over his skin. You dragged your teeth over his delicate features before sucking them between your soft lips.

“You’re so sweet, Kyunnie.” you whispered against his ear before pulling away. Your hair brushed against his cheek gently and he inhaled the scent of your shampoo.

Walking around to the front of him you danced slowly to the music. He watched as you hooked your thumbs into the elastic of your shorts and tugged them down little by little with each sway of your hips. As you bent over to step out of the shorts the shirt you were wearing lifted up over your ass and slipped down your back revealing the black lace garter belt you were wearing to hold up your stockings. Without really thinking he reached out and his fingers ghosted over the matching lace panties you were wearing.

“Are you peeking?” you asked looking back at him with a grin.

Taking your grin as a challenge he moved his hand so he was cupping your ass and he gave it a squeeze. “Just making sure it’s all up to par for our Honey.”

“Should I keep the stockings on or lose them?” you asked standing back up and turning to face him.

“Keep.” he said quickly, “And the shoes.”

With a small nod you stepped in front of his legs. Pressing your leg between his knees forced his legs open. You moved between them and turned around. Wrapping your hands tight around his thighs you sat in his lap and loosened your hips to the beat of the music that was still playing in the background.

“Is this okay?” You asked sweetly leaning back against his chest, back arched just enough that he had a perfect view down your open shirt.

“It would be better like this…” he said moving his arms around your front. You watched as his fingers made quick work of the few buttons you had done up and he helped you shimmy out of the shirt completely before tossing it to the ground.

“Oh.” You moaned as he moved his hands up your bare torso, his fingers slipped beneath your lace bra and brushed against your nipple. “I think I like that better too.”

Reaching behind you, you slipped your hand behind his neck. He dropped his head down and dragged his teeth over your bare shoulder like you’d done to him earlier.

“What if I did this? Do you think he’ll like this?” You asked, rolling your hips back, ass pressing hard into his lap.

With one last rough squeeze of your breasts he dropped his hands to your hips and he pulled you even deeper, until you felt his building erection rub beneath you, “Push deeper. Can you feel that?”

Your nose pressed into his neck as you gasped, “Yes.”

“Do it like that. Try again.” He demanded.

“Like this?” You asked pressing hard into his lap once more and giving your hips a swirl.

“Fuck.” He cleared his throat, “Yeah. He’ll like that.”

“I was going to try this next…” you said before sliding your body down between his thighs. Your head rested on his lap, neck elongated as you looked up at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you to save his lost soul. Then you swirled around so that you were knelt on the ground in front of him.

Eyes wide and innocent, you looked up at him. Your innocence was his favorite lie. He looked down at you wordlessly, waiting for your next move. You placed your hands on his knees and moved them slowly up his black denim clad thighs until they met in the middle where you cupped his bulge in your palms. His dark eyes locked with yours and he wrapped his fingers around your hands. You watched his stoic face as he used your hands to massage himself. After a minute he moved his hands down around your wrists and pulled you up to your feet.

“Try this, he’ll like it.” hands gripping your hips he pulled you forward so that you had one leg on either side of his and he directed you to sit, straddling one single muscular thigh. “Do you know what I want you to do?”

You nodded.

“Then do it.”

With a lick of your lips you started to move your hips back and forth, rubbing yourself against his leg. Your mouth fell open as he started to flex the muscle beneath you. He sat up straight in the chair as you continued grinding down on him. His hands moved up your side and around to the back where he unhooked your bra before dragging it off your shoulders. He pulled you closer wrapping his mouth around one of your breasts.

“Fuck, Kyunnie.” you gasped as he kept himself latched onto your sensitive skin.

One of his hands gripped your hip roughly making sure you didn’t stop what you were doing. Your hands slipped over his shoulder and up into his hair. You tugged at his black locks as you continued to ride his flexing thigh. His hand moved down to your lace covered leg and he squeezed hard.

“Do you want more?” he mumbled against your breast.

“Yes,” You begged instantly, “Please.”

He moved his hand between your tense thighs and brushed his fingers against your clothed cunt. Your hips pumped harder, gaining friction from his hand gave you a renewed energy. He wasn’t quite finished with you yet, moving his abused fingers one step further and slipping them into your panties and then inside of you. Your mouth fell open in a gasp and he captured your bottom lip between his teeth and then let it go.

“Make yourself cum.” he said locking eyes with you.

You had all the tools you needed to do what you were told. Your hips bucked wildly against his hand and his thigh. Fingers still twisted in his hair you pulled him closer and pressed your mouth to his. He let your tongue into his mouth and you groaned in delight at the feel of his tongue ring massaging you. It wasn’t hard for you to find your climax, you’d been so ready for it since the kitchen earlier. With his digits pumping inside of you, and your clit brushing against the heel of his hand, you released a gush of orgasm out onto his thigh. Spent, you leaned your head forward to rest against his shoulder for a moment.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” You asked quietly, thighs still trembling around his wrist.

He pulled his fingers from you slowly, and lifted them to your lips so you could take them into your mouth. “Do I think he’ll like having you nearly naked, humping his thigh, fucking your self on his fingers like a filthy whore?”

“Yes.” You moaned out your reply.

He looked away from you, as if it was suddenly excruciating to be near you. “If he doesn’t there’s something wrong with him, not you.”

“What do you think he’ll do with me then?” You asked, moving your hands over his chest, his heart was pounding under your touch. “What would you want to do with me, Kyunnie?”

He spread his hands out over your bare back pulling you close enough to get his mouth on you. He sucked tiny splotches all over your skin before pulling back.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. All he had in this world was Jooheon and suddenly Jooheon had you and he was alone. He wished the roles were reversed. He wished you were his. It was agonizing for him to know that you weren’t and never would be. That he was going to be alone forever and have to watch the two of you smother one another with disgusting love in the meantime.

“I’d want to do exactly what I’m thinking about doing now.” muttered against your chest.

“Which is?” Jooheon’s voice came from the entrance of the room.

Changkyun looked over your shoulder at Jooheon and then back to you in a panic, “What is this?”

“Does it matter?” Jooheon asked, coming into the room. “What are you thinking about doing with her?”

With a gulp, Changkyun let himself think for a moment before answering, deciding to just be honest. “I’m thinking about fucking her full of gratitude.”

Jooheon raised an eyebrow, “Well?”

“Well what?” Changkyun asked unsure of what was going on but keeping his grip on your hips regardless.

“It’s rude to make her wait for her gift.”

“Why are you doing this?” Changkyun asked Jooheon.

He shrugged casually, “Because she asked nicely.”

Changkyun finally looked back at you, surprise clear on his face, “You asked for this?”

You nodded, “I missed you. I want you.”

“I- well…”

“Don’t you want me too? Haven’t you been thinking about me? Watching me…” you asked and chewed on your lip. “Just tell me how much you want me, Kyunnie.”

Changkyun lifted his hand to your chin and squeezed. He locked eyes with you, searching for something. “Tell me the truth.”

“I want you. And I want you to want me back.” you said honestly. “It makes me feel good.”

“You’re not a very good girl are you?”

“No. I’m selfish and I’m greedy. I want Jooheon,” you turned your head up to him as he stepped behind you and he cupped your face in his hand before dropping his mouth to yours for a sloppy wet kiss. Your hips started to grind once more on Changkyun’s thigh as Jooheon’s tongue massaged your own. When he pulled back you turned back to face Changkyun, “And I want you too.”

Leaning forward you captured his lips between yours for a kiss. He fell into the kiss for just a moment before pulling away to look up at Jooheon, “You’re okay with this? She’s bound to you.”

“I’m okay with it because she’s bound to me.” Jooheon grinned, “One day you’ll find it for yourself and you’ll understand. I hate to see you suffer in the meantime. So as long as she wants to, I’ll share.”

“What do you think, Kyunnie?” you asked sweetly, but he was sure he could hear poison somewhere buried in your voice, “Would you like that?”

He shrugged, “It wouldn’t exactly be the most fucked up thing I’ve ever done.”

“Good.” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his nose before standing up.

Jooheon wrapped his arm around your waist and the both of you looked over your shoulders. With a smile you reached your hand out to Changkyun and after a moment of genuine consideration he took it. The three of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom you and Jooheon shared. It was quiet but not uncomfortable. You were starting to feel a real buzz under your skin as you stepped into the room. Changkyun watched as Jooheon pulled you into his arms. He kissed you rough and deep until you were moaning, your thigh trying to inch its way up his leg.

But he pushed you off of him, “Do whatever he says.”

You gently kissed each of his dimpled cheeks and then his lips one more. “You’re sure this is okay?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He said giving you one more kiss before pushing your hip gently towards Changkyun.

He looked so shy standing there waiting for you. He was looking to the side, toward the window, and he was holding his hands in front of him. It was a little strange seeing him drop his confident act. It was also obvious that as hard as he pretended not to , he had a lot of respect for Jooheon and seemed almost uncomfortable about using you.

“Kyunnie…” you stepped over to him and lifted your hand up to his neck, “Do you want this? It’s okay if you don’t.”

He let his forehead rest against yours, quiet when he whispered, “I want you.”

“Come.”

Taking his hands you brought him towards the bed where you sunk down into the mattress. Changkyun sat beside you, and he placed his hand on your knee. You watched his fingers as they slowly inched up your thigh until they were lightly pressed against the soaked crotch of your panties. He smiled. He’d done that.

“Does he give you everything you want?” Changkyun asked, leaning in to you with a soft kiss. “Or does he tease you like I would?”

“He gives me everything I want.” You whispered a little shakily as you felt him starting to take back control.

“I should have figured.” He scoffed, “No wonder you’re such a greedy brat. Are you even capable of doing anything for anyone other than yourself?”

“Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Prove it.”

Cupping his neck with your hand you pulled him in for a quick kiss before moving off the bed. With your hands on his knees you pushed his legs open and moved yourself between them. He leaned back, heavy lidded eyes boring down into you. You were absolutely vibrating with excitement. This wasn’t something you’d gotten to do with him last time. He’d done so much for you and hadn’t given you the chance to return the favor. You’d have to repay him now.

Your hands were quick to undo the button on his jeans. He lifted his hips just enough that you could drag them down his legs, leaving him in just his black boxer briefs and red satin shirt that was still falling open from when you’d unbuttoned it. His cock was already fully erect, you suspected it probably had been for a while now. Pulling the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs down you watched dick snap up, smacking against his abdomen. His head was angry and red, leaking precum like a sieve. Your tongue ran over your lips as you took in the vision.

A shiver moved down his spine as you ran your tongue softly around his tip. Your lips left sweet, gentle kisses down his shaft to the base and then you pressed your tongue against the vein on the underside before dragging it back to the head. He was about to make a snarky comment, demand better from you, but before he could you plunged yourself down onto his cock.

His eyes went wide in shock but he quickly shook himself out of it. He looked up at Jooheon who was leaning against a tall dresser, watching the two of you very diligently. “...she do this a lot?”

Jooheon answered with only a smug smirk. Just given the sheer size of him it had been difficult for you in the beginning, but he’d trained you well and was proud of his girl. A little annoyed with the lack of attention you gave him a taste of teeth. A gentle drag over his cock as you pulled up. Changkyuns gaze snapped back to you at the feel. You were pleased and he could see it written all over your face.

“Try that shit again.” he muttered darkly.

Happily playing the role of the brat you did exactly that. Looking up to meet his eyes, you made it a point to bare your teeth as you dragged them once again along his sensitive shaft. It was clear by the way he trembled beneath your touch that he liked it despite the attitude he was giving you. What he didn’t like was that you seemed to still think you were in control.

“Angel thinks she’s funny?” he asked, glaring down at you and you matched his gaze, your eyes dancing with amusement.

The suck job had been leisurely so far and you hadn’t taken him all the way yet. You were almost there but you’d still been using your hand around the base. Done playing he grabbed the messy bun at the back of your head in his fist and without any warning slammed your face down on his dick. You gagged harshly around him, nearly throwing up, but you steadied yourself quickly. Jooheon had pushed himself off of the dresser at the action, ready to step in but you held up a hand to him letting him know it was okay. Changkyun did it again and again, lifting his hips to meet your face.

He sounded like a feral animal, grunting and growling while he fucked your face. The only other sound in the room was a disgustingly lewd and wet gurgling sound coming from the back of your throat. Knowing you were okay, Jooheon allowed himself to enjoy the sound in juxtaposition with the gentle taps of raindrops on the window beside him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he gasped, and looked to Jooheon as if for advice.

Understanding the unasked question he shrugged, “Ask her.”

He eased off a little and looked down at you, “How do you want me?”

You let him pop out of your mouth, wiped the drool from your lips, and said, “Cum in my mouth.”

Completely mesmerized he watched as you dropped your mouth back onto him. He wasn’t fucking your mouth any more, but you went just as hard as if he had been. His mouth had fallen open but he couldn’t think of a thing to say, or a noise to make. Just little gasps of air escaped him. You knew he was close when his thighs clenched beneath your palms. Then his whole body stalled, save for a gentle pulsing of his hips as he unloaded down your throat and filled your mouth. You choked a little at the start but took him well in the end.

Honestly, a little spent, he leaned back on the mattress and looked down at you as you eased back onto your heels and swallowed. You were sure you looked like a mess. You thought to yourself, offhand, that you were glad that you hadn’t done your makeup. Just a little waterproof mascara and a bold red lipstick that was now staining rings around Changkyuns softened dick. Reaching your hand up, you went to wipe the tears from your cheeks but Changkyun bolted upright.

“Wait.” he said urgently, grabbing your wrists.

Frozen in place you waited to see what he wanted next. Loosening his grip on your wrists he dropped your hands into your lap. You watched him as his eyes moved over the mess that he’d made. Strands of hair had been tugged out of an already sloppy bun, making it look like you’d just stood in the center of a tornado. Tears streaked your cheeks, a few stragglers still clung to your lashes. Your mouth was red and your lips swollen. Still Changkyun looked at you like you were the Mona Lisa. His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs, and he leaned in to kiss you softly. Softer than he’d kissed you any of the other times his lips had met yours.

He kissed you for a long minute, until his tongue had tasted every inch of your mouth and he pulled back with a sigh, “You’re really beautiful.”

You flushed at the intimate way he said the words. “Thanks…”

Jooheon was biting his bottom lip quite nervously. Changkyun cleared his throat, forcing himself back into the hardened character he often portrayed. “Go get Jooheon. But…don’t speak to him.”

Standing up you groaned at the ache in your knees, but shuffled over to Jooheon regardless. There were suddenly so many things you wanted to say to him, there were questions you’d wanted to ask. Mostly, was he still okay. He gave you a simple, small smile. And you took his hand, walking him back to the bed.

“Good.” Changkyun had been standing up, his pants pulled back up and hanging loose on his hips. He moved his hand to gesture towards the edge of the bed and looked to Jooheon, “Sit. Please.”

“What’s next?” you asked quietly.

“I want you to bend over. Hands on his thighs.” Changkyun commanded.

Already absolutely soaked, the sight of Jooheon sitting on the bed propped up with his hands just slightly behind him could have been enough to get you all the way off. As you thought about it, you were pretty sure you’d pictured him just like that before to jerk off. You couldn’t help it where he was concerned. Certain there was no sexier creature than him. His chest was rising and falling steady as he locked eyes with you, black eyes. Evil eyes that reached through your body and twisted your insides. The act of his eyes meeting yours alone made you moan out and you quickly bit your lip as he smirked like the cocky demon that he had turned out to be.

Still biting your lip, you did as you were told and bent at the waist in front of him. Your fingers wrapped around his thick, meaty thighs and you squeezed. All you could think about was getting on your knees and pulling him into your mouth the way he liked, the way you had just done with Changkyun. With a lick of your lips, you leaned forward for a kiss. His plump, pink lips were too close not to.

Before you could get your lips to his, Changkyun fisted your hair in his hand and pulled your head back so roughly you cried out in genuine pain.

“Don’t kiss him.” He hissed against your neck, ignoring your pained wince. “Don’t speak to him. As far as you're concerned he’s not even there.”

One hand still clutching your hair, the other grabbed your hip. His fingers dug deep into the skin, and pulled you back just enough that you could feel his rock hard dick pressed against your ass.

“Say you understand.” He growled. “This is my turn.”

“It’s just you and me, Kyun.” Eyes still locked on Jooheon, you whimpered as he rolled his hips into you from behind, “It’s just you, baby.”

His lips pressed against the skin of your shoulder with a satisfied hum, “Good. Good girl.”

Much more gently, kindly, he loosened his grip from your hair. His palm moved to the side until it was pressed against your cheek. Turning your face to his, he latched onto your mouth with his lips in an aggressive kiss. His tongue shoving into your mouth with no request, only staking its claim on you. You moaned, loud and deep, against the kiss as he explored.

“Very good.” He said as he pulled back, licking his lips as you gasped out a few breaths. He turned your head back to Jooheon, “Now, only think of me.”

It was then he used his foot to spread your legs until he was happy with your openness. For a moment you stood there, unsure of what he was doing, only feeling his hands palming your ass roughly. Then, just before you were ready to turn your head and complain with impatience, you felt his tongue brush a thick wet stripe along your cunt.

“F-Fuck.” You gasped at the feel as he did it again.

He’d knelt behind you, wanting to devour you. You were more than ready enough to take him, wet and waiting. He didn’t have to go down on you, but preparing you wasn’t the point. He’d missed the taste of you. He missed the soft, warm feel of your pussy surrounding his tongue. He wanted to prove to you and to him he could make you cum again, just like he had the first time.

“Yes...Oh, fuck.” You moaned, you rolled back against his mouth. “It feels so good, baby. You know just what I want, Kyunnie.”

Something about Jooheon being face to face with you as the coils tightened in your gut from another man’s ministrations made the whole thing infinitely hotter. Your skin was burning, moist with sweat already and you hadn’t even been fucked yet. His jaw clenched with every moan, groan, whimper, and whisper that oozed from your mouth.

“Yeah, yes. Yes yes yes. I’m gonna cum.” You whispered sweetly after a few minutes of his tongue dipping inside of you, then pulling out and brushing against your clit. Your nails were digging into the flesh on Jooheon’s thighs so deep that if it weren’t for the protection of his jeans, beads of blood would have gathered on the skin.

“Who…” Changkyun broke away from you for just long enough to ask, “who’s making you cum? Who are you cumming for?”

Keeping your eyes locked on Jooheon you grinned, something sinister making its way through you. “You, Changkyun, I’m cumming for you. Only you.”

A low growl emitted from deep in Jooheon’s chest and you watched his tongue run roughly against the inside of his bottom lip with rage. Finally, you thought, a little jealousy on his part. There was a spark of a flame in your eyes as you leaned forward, not touching him or kissing him, just your lips hovering over his ear as you gasped and moaned. Your hot breath cascading over his skin.

With your ear at his mouth as well he muttered an angered, “You’ll regret this.”

You didn’t care for his threat, too busy circling your orgasm as Changkyun circled your clit with his tongue. Willing to risk getting caught breaking the rules you dragged your bottom lip against Jooheon’s cheek. You were so close, hanging on by a thin strand of hair… and he pulled away. You felt you should have known better than to expect to come easy with him.

“Asshole.” muttered under your breath, but he heard you anyway.

“You’re the one that missed me, angel.” He grinned, rubbing his still hard cock between your thighs. Your slick sex coating him with ease.

You snapped your head to look over your shoulder at him with a glare. Frustrated at his denial you spat out, “If you didn’t miss me, you don’t get to fuck me.”

“Shut up, you little brat.” He sneered and landed a hard smack against your bare ass. “I’ve already admitted I did. Don’t be so sensitive.”

“I thought that’s how you liked me.” You grinned. With a chuckle he slapped you again making you jolt.

“Look ahead.” He commanded, “And remind me...who’s here?”

Your tongue brushed over your lip as you locked eyes with Jooheon once more. “Me and you, Kyunnie. Just me and you.”

“Good.” he muttered before easing inside of you with a wet squelch, and a hiss through his teeth.

Hands gripping your hips roughly he drilled into you, using you like a battering ram into Jooheon’s chest.

“Fuck.” Your mouth dropping open in pleasure, “Oh, your cock… fuck me.”

After several minutes he slowed his pace, hands running up your back lightly. Your body trembled beneath him. The gentle touch of his fingers leaving prickles all over your skin. He moved his hands back down in the same manner until he was holding your hips again.

“Just between the two of us,” he said quietly, “Do you love my cock inside of you?”

“Yes,” you whined as he pushed himself so deep he disappeared inside of you completely. “I love it so much.”

“Do you think Jooheon would love to see it?” He asked, “Do you think he’d like to see me stuffed balls deep in your wet little cunt?”

Looking at Jooheon you watched him snarl at the question. “No.”

“Do you think he likes to watch you cum?”

“Yes,” you groaned.

“But you don’t think he’d like to watch you cum for me?” You shook your head, and he laughed. “Good.”

As if it was a challenge he picked up his pace. Jooheon’s shoulder dug into your chest with every thrust as he kept his hands to himself and you kept yours wrapped around his thighs. Your cheek rubbed gently against the side of his head and his soft hair. It was, in a way, comforting.

“Do you love him?” Changkyun asked quietly. “Do you love Jooheon?”

With a gulp you leaned back and looked at Jooheon. His eyes were different now, normal. They were softer, big and brown and eager as he looked at you, waiting for your answer.

“Why do you hesitate?” Changkyun asked, stilling for a moment inside of you. “Answer me.”

“We haven’t said it yet.” You mumbled, “We haven’t said it to each other.”

The slower pace he took was more agonizing than the faster one. Each thrust inside of you meant the head of his cock rubbing against your gspot. You couldn’t believe this was the conversation you were having when you were seconds from gushing around him.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You lifted one of your hands to cup Jooheon’s neck.

“If he was here what would you say?” Changkyun asked, “Say it like you’d say it to him.”

Your eyes were glistening as you looked at his ethereal face and whispered, “I love you.. I love you. I love you.”

A confession for every thrust Changkyun made. Jooheon pressed his forehead to yours, lifting a hand to cup around your neck as well.

Changkyun laughed at the act of pure intimacy. “At least help her cum, you don’t have to be such a monster.”

Jooheon’s eyes flickered to Changkyun and then he moved his free hand between the two of you. The pad of his thumb rubbed heavy circles against your clit. You cried out in an overstimulated agony, vibrating and pulsing around Changkyun until he was cumming too. He held your hips for a moment to catch his breath.

As Changkyun gently eased himself out of you and stepped away, Jooheon brushed his thumb over your lips and you pressed a kiss to it.

He smiled, his cheek dimpling deeply, “I love you.”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Changkyun grabbed his clothes off the floor. “Where are you going?”

“Leaving, so you two can do whatever weak shit couples do.”

“Stay.” You grinned and held out your hand to him, “I’m not done with you just yet.”

He scoffed in disbelief, “What?”

“Oh, come on.” You’d turned and sat down on Jooheon’s lap. Grinning over at him you said, “I know you fuck a lot of women, but we both know I’m your favorite.”

Jooheon was peeking over your shoulder at Changkyun, his thumbs playing with the straps of your garterbelt. He watched the younger man as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably, quietly, against the floor. He stared at the shirt in his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“No...he doesn’t.” Jooheon said with a genuine surprise.

Both you and Changkyun looked at him. You looked at him curiously, where Changkyun was more flabbergasted.

“Doesn’t what?” you asked, “Know that I’m his favorite?”

“Doesn’t fuck a lot of women.” Jooheon sounded confident in the accusation, “I don’t actually think he’s fucked anyone since you.”

You choked out a genuine laugh, “Honey… he’s with a new skank every night. We often hear his conquests through the walls.”

Jooheon looked only at Changkyun. “They might fuck around, handjobs and kissing...but he doesn’t fuck them. Do you?”

Looking between the two of them you felt stunned, and then you realized that Changkyun wasn’t denying any of it. He just stood there, eyes on the ground, jaw clenched.

“Kyun?”

He shook himself out of it and looked up at you. “What? What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing.” you said quietly. “Come here…”

“No, see this is why this was a bad idea. This is why I shouldn’t have done it.” he shook his head, angry with himself. “I don’t need you to look at me all sad like that. I didn’t need some pity fuck.”

You stood up then and crossed the floor to where he stood. Grabbing his hand you lifted it so he was cupping your cheek. “You know I can’t lie with your hands on me. Right?”

He nodded, a gulp moving down his throat.

“No one here is pity fucking anyone. I told you that I wanted you and I meant it. Now you’re going to come with me back to the bed so that both of you can use me until each of us is satisfied.” you looked at him sternly. “Have I made myself clear?”

He nodded once more and you led him back to the bed and Jooheon. With a bit of renewed pep you bounced onto the mattress and crawled up to the head of the bed. Jooheon looked over at you with a strange sense of adoration, proud of the way you took control and grateful for how good you were while simultaneously being quite deviant.

“If you ask me both of you are far too dressed.” you tutted looking at the pair, “Feel free to get naked and join me at any time, my sexy little demons.”

With his shirt in his hands and pants already falling off his hips, Changkyun climbed up next to you first. You cupped his face with both hands and started to kiss him. His tongue slipped into your mouth and massaged your own, his hand gently placed on your hip. There was a dip in the mattress on your other side and you felt Jooheon’s soft fingers start to drag up your inner thigh. You turned then and grabbed his plump cheeks in your palms and kissed him too.

While you moaned into Jooheon’s mouth, his fingers rubbing circles over your wrecked lace panties, Changkyun dipped his head down, sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand lifted to the other one, and his fingers began to work your nipple until it was pert. You sighed happily as you sunk down into the plush pillows.

“Yes…” you let out a soft chuckle, “This is nice. This is what I wanted.”

Jooheon laughed against your neck before sucking the skin back between his lips. He also slipped two long agile fingers inside of your dripping cunt. He raised a surprised eyebrow, not expecting how tightly you squeezed around him. Changkyun kept his mouth and hands focused on your breasts. You felt absolutely euphoric with one arm around Jooheons’ shoulder and your free hand massaging Changkyuns head. With the extra stimulation it took just a few minutes before you were a gushing mess of orgasm.

You watched as Jooheon pulled away, moving down between your legs. Taking the cue, Changkyun moved up from your chest. He sucked your aching, swollen bottom lip between his in a kiss. His hand slipped over your chest, until it was resting gently against your throat. Jooheon tore the lacy panties you were wearing from your body roughly. Leaving you in just the garter belt and stockings. Gripping your legs he tugged you down the mattress until your legs were on either side of his hips and your back was flat on the mattress. Changkyun stayed where he had been which meant he was hovering over your face now, and his hand was pressed a little harder against your throat because you’d been dragged into it.

You let out something between a moan and a gasp as Jooheon sunk into your, at this point, well used pussy. He had such a girth that even though you were soaked and had already been fucked, there was a satisfying stretch to having him inside of you. You reached your hand down around Changkyun to give him a nice tug. The bed groaned with each and every thrust from Jooheon. He wasn’t always this rough on you, but you knew you had to be punished at least a little for purposely getting him jealous. He pistoned into you fast and hard.

You’d have cried out or screamed for him but Changkyun had slowly been tightening his grip on your throat until you couldn’t so much as breathe. Your mouth had fallen open and he dipped his tongue into your mouth playfully, just barely tasting you, licking your tongue. He did it a few more times until your tongue reached desperately out for his. He grinned down at you, watching your face carefully to make sure you were okay.

“Fuck, baby.” Jooheon groaned, his hands gripped on your thighs so tight it felt like he was rubbing a burn into them. “I’m gonna cum so hard.”

“Aw,” Changkyun cooed mischievously. “You’re gonna like that aren’t you? Your cunt feels so good, I bet he blasts all the way into your throat. Such a good slut.”

You could barely even whimper a response, your knees squeezing around Jooheons’ hips.

Jooheon dropped his hand down and circled your overstimulated clit with his thumb. “Whose pussy is this?”

You would have screamed, you wanted to cry out from the pain and pleasure of it all. Instead your toes curled and tears streaked your cheeks.

“I asked you a question,” he said firmly. You knew he knew why you didn’t respond but he asked again, “Who does this pussy belong to? Say it!”

With an evil smirk Changkyun released your throat and you gasped for air, your next orgasm hit you almost as soon as the fresh air hit your lungs.

“It’s your pussy!” you screamed, “Fuck! It’s yours, Jooheon! I’m yours! My pussy is yours! It’s yours! It’s yours...it’s yours. It’s…”

He’d already stilled inside of you with his orgasm and come down from it, while your body continued to jerk beneath him. You imagined this was your life now. Uncontrollable orgasmic tremors. Changkyun left sweet soft kisses along the red marks along your neck as you came down. Jooheon rubbed his hands over your thighs to ease the muscles. Once your breathing calmed down he grinned down at you.

“You okay?”

You nodded, “Am I dead? Did I die?”

Changkyun chuckled next to your ear and Jooheon laughed outright.

“No, baby, you’re not dead.”

“Are you satisfied now?” Changkyun asked, brushing the hair from your face. You shook your head.

“One more.” The younger demon's eyebrows shot up to his hairline at your words and you looked up at Jooheon, “You know what I want. Then we can be done.”

With a nod of agreement Jooheon slid down onto his stomach, his face between your legs. You only struggled slightly as you lifted yourself to your elbows.

“What are you doing?” Changkyun asked.

You smiled over at him, “Just kneel up here for me.”

“Y/n…” he said cautiously, “You’re spent, angel.”

“I can handle it.” you argued, “Now please let me suck your dick so it’s ready to go once Honey is done.”

Curious, he moved his way down your body to see what it was exactly that Jooheon was doing. Jooheon looked over and smirked at the surprise on his face.

“Same time?” Changkyun murmured, his face lighting up as Jooheon nodded, “That little devil.”

“Kyunnie!” you whined loudly and he moved up the bed like you’d asked him to.

He cupped the back of your head with one hand as you directed his half hard cock into your mouth for a nice leisurely blow job. You laughed around his dick as he fixed your hair into a proper ponytail, and moaned when Jooheon had you near ready. After a few minutes he popped up onto his knees.

“We’re ready.”

You released Changkyun from your lips with a loud pop and pulled yourself up onto your knees. You directed Jooheon onto his back and straddled his lap.

“My pussy.” he reminded you softly.

Leaning down you pressed a soft kiss against both of Jooheon’s dimples and then brushed his ear with your lips, “All yours.”

With a deep groan you sunk down onto him, it was a little tense but you knew you could do it, that you wanted it. Looking over your shoulder you eyed Changkyun who was stroking his fully erect cock.

“I don’t have to tell you what to do, do I?”

“No.” He laughed, “I’m well versed in threesomes, angel.”

He moved behind you then and took a second to spread your cheeks open, appreciating the ass eating Jooheon had done diligently to make sure you were nice and ready for him. Mouth watering at the sight in front of him he let a stream of spit fall from his lips onto his cock. Rubbing it over his tip with his palm he pressed his dick slowly against your asshole. Jooheon was whispering against your ear, urging you to relax for him. Once you had it was easier for him to push inside of you until you were filled to the brim with dick.

“Oh, sweet devil in hell.” you muttered breathlessly.

Now that it was happening you weren’t sure how much you’d actually be able to handle. Neither of them was even moving yet and you were already on the brink. Changkyun moved his hands slowly up your back, leaning into you. His lips pressed softly against the back of your shoulder on one side, while Jooheon kissed the front of your shoulder on the other. Skin blooming all over with beads of sweat and nerves tingling with overstimulation, you couldn’t imagine it got any better than this.

You let out a sigh, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Changkyun started, he eased out slowly and pushed back in with just as much care until you had become accustomed to the feel. It happened faster than either of you expected, but once it did you encouraged Jooheon to move as well. After a few minutes had passed you were begging them both to go deeper, to fuck you faster. Your arms were trembling as you held yourself up over Jooheon. Fingers clutched the blankets on both sides of his head into fistfulls.

Changkyun had his hands on your hips again, pulling you back into his lap. Jooheon had his hands on the backs of your thighs pulling you up onto his dick. You weren’t sure if either of them understood human anatomy because it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. It didn’t matter enough for you to say anything however, your orgasm was coming hard and fast and you didn’t have the energy for words. It was just illicit moaning and trying to keep breathing. Jooheon and Changkyun came back to back. Being filled to the point of gushing made you feel filthy and sexy.

Changkyun removed himself first, and helped gently lift you from Jooheon. You collapsed back onto the pillows, aching for sleep. Jooheon climbed up beside you and rested his head against your shoulder.

“Should I run you a bath, love?” he asked kindly.

You shook your head, “I just want to sleep for a bit.”

Changkyun lifted his palm to your cheek and gave you a soft kiss against your lips. “Thank you, angel.”

You grabbed his wrist before he could pull himself away from you, “Stay.”

“No, it’s okay, you guys-”

“Kyunnie…” you sighed, exhausted. “Lay down. You worked hard.”

He crashed down next to you with a groan and laid his head on the shoulder opposite Jooheon. The latter was already breathing softly with sleep. You held his head gently in your arm, and turning your face towards him you pressed a kiss against his sweaty forehead. The clouds outside were pitch black and you listened to the rain as it beat against the windows harder than before. Eyes closed, a smile spread across your face and you whispered to a nearly sleeping Changkyun.

“Told you it was a beautiful day.”

Minhyuk pulled up to The Eighth Circle and put the car in park. In the backseat Jooheon, fingers wrapped around your hand, pulled it to his lips. You blushed lightly as he left a kiss against your knuckles.

“Ohhh-Kay.” Changkyun sighed from the front seat, popping his door open, “I’ll see you two inside.”

Things had been infinitely better between the three of you but witnessing the amount of affection the two of you often shared still wasn’t Changkyun’s cup of tea. Even if he got to fuck you sometimes, you loved Jooheon and all three of you knew that. He was okay with it now. Oftentimes he found himself genuinely happy for the both of you. It was just hard when he realized, after the two of you had been sleeping together for while, that what he really wanted was deeper than sex. He wanted what you two shared. He wanted to be bonded.

The three of you had been running late but the club didn’t open for another half hour. Still it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that there was already a line at the door. Girls hovered in a swarm around the front as Changkyun tried to get inside. They called out his name, tried to get him to remember them, each and every one of them vying for attention. It was well known at that point that Jooheon was off limits, which meant that there was only one Malebranche Brother left and everyone wanted him. Jooheon and you had thought he might like it, but Changkyun’d started to loathe the attention when he knew that none of them were The One.

He ducked inside the door, narrowly missing a pair of used panties that had been thrown at his head. Club employees greeted him kindly as they moved around getting things ready for open. Changkyun stopped at the bar first. He made himself an old-fashioned and popped a few cherries into his mouth before making his rounds. He visited each room and meandered around. He did quick check-ins with all of the employees, spoke to security to make sure everything looked good, went backstage to make sure the performers were happy and had everything they needed before curtains. Certain that everything was running smoothly he made his way back to the foyer as doors opened. He watched for just a minute before starting his way up stairs.

The room filled quickly as people started to filter into the different rooms. He’d gotten halfway up the staircase when his legs froze in place. His hand clutched the banister and his eyes closed. He tried taking a deep breath but his chest was tight. There was a twisting in the pit of his stomach and he wasn’t sure how to ease it. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before. He figured it was something he ate. With a gulp he turned his head to look over his shoulder back down at the crowded room below. He tried to find you or Jooheon, hoping one of you could help.

The twisting started to feel like a tug. It felt as if a rope had been tied tightly around him and was attempting to pull him backwards, back down the stairs. It was an energy he’d never experienced before. A magnet tearing through him. It clicked in his mind then, he’d heard about a sensation just like it once. It was the way Jooheon described the first time he’d seen you. A need so heavy it had made him sick.

With a nervous gulp he turned around completely, his eyes passed over the crowd until they reached a young woman who was just making her way inside. A group of friends surrounded her as she looked around the room in awe, it was clear it was her first time there. She’d been smiling and laughing with her friends while they moved towards the bar. He watched her for a moment as her demeanor changed.

Her smile faded into something a little confused, almost scared. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and she squirmed slightly in the tight fabric of her dress. Then her eyes turned to pass over the crowd, like she was searching for someone. Her face turned toward the staircase and their eyes met. Changkyun’s lip curled into a smirk as she looked up at him with big wanton eyes. Finding her smile once more she raised an eyebrow. With a single finger he urged her over and she began to make her way through the crowd towards him. As he moved back down the stairs to meet her he let out a sigh of relief as all of his feelings for you eased away. He’d found what he was looking for.

It was her.

#lee jooheon scenario #lee jooheon smut #im changkyun scenario #im changkyun smut #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #monsta x scenarios #monsta x smut #kpop scenario #kpop smut #jooheon scenario #jooheon smut #i.m. x reader #jooheon x reader #monsta x x reader

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har-rison-s · 3 years

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this isn't a request but sort of a confession of some sorts. the only people who'd sort of understand and not judge are the people on tumblr.

i have a sort of oc, sort of since she's based on a multitude of marvel characters. her name's emma, emma anastasia frost. and she's wanda and loki's adulterous love child from another universe and future, that's based on the actual earth-616, and she sort of takes the place of jean grey, emma frost and illyana rasputina. but sadly in this universe, wanda and loki are shit parents who caused her so much trauma. they lit-rally hate her because her existence caused both their then current relationships to crumble, even though it was their fault. she's older sister to billy and tommy, and instead of tommy ending up being reincarnated to the shepherd family he ends up in the care of his older sister, and she and wanda end up fighting over it, since tommy loves her more hahaha.

she's a demi-god who's part mutant and part frost giant sooo she's overpowered as SHIT. omega-level telepathy and telekinesis, the literal phoenix force, chaos magic ( after her mom dies she sort of takes up the scarlet witch mantle ), asgardian magic, and sooo much more.

she is married to scott summers, and dated wolverine and that universe's peter parker as a young adult.

she was kidnapped by belasco at the age of six, just like illyana rasputin. her parents didn't even bother to look for her ( she finds that out when she gets older and it's the straw that breaks the camels back ) and learns dark magic and forges the soul sword there. she gets out at age 13 and ends up at the front door charles xavier's sort of newly built school, and she ends becoming his first student and protege. he raises her and she was one of the original x-men.

when she's a little older in her mid thirties, some overpowered ass god decides to try take over the world, kills both the avengers and the x-men ( which included her teenaged daughter ) and she's left with original x-men team. since there's no way to kill this god other than literally erasing their universe from existence, they go on a suicide mission, and she watches her best friends and husband ( which makes her go just absolutely feral, a la wanda like mother like daughter ) die right in front of her eyes. she ends up successfully erasing their universe from existing and has already accepted her fate. but subconsciously ends up doing a spell that catapults her into the mcu and de-ages her so from 35, she's back to the age of 15, and she landed in like new mexico, like her uncle thor.

she then enrolls at midtown high where she meets a younger peter parker, who she doesn't really recognize. but ends up doing so after they become lab partners. and then... idk anymore hahahaha

thanks for letting me geek out and thanks for coming to my ted talk

oooooo thank you for sharing this! this is insanely absorbant and like inclusive of sorts ??? you dare to imagine what i don't have the guts for.

this is so interesting, wow!!! can i visit your brain just for a while to see what's going on there? omg .

and i totally get u, i'm truly one of the most non-judging people ever. you can trust me wit anything because i do not see any point in shaming others about what / who they love, and i hate that people (including me, it's deeprooteDd) feel ashamed about their idols and interests. it SUCKS man but it's our daily life yk it's so deeply rooted into us that we can hardly shake it. but hey! the more you fight against it, embrace all that you love, the better you'll feel abot yourself and those interests that make you feel like a whole person.

thank you for your ted talk. have you considered writing?? like at any point in your life?? cause you're great at all the details and timeline stuff. you should definitely write this. i mena if you want to ! no rpessure.

thank yu againa. love you anon. hope you have a great night!!!! or day!!! or fuckng1!! idk. merry christmas and just happy day if you don't celebrate chrismtas. love you again. sending hugs and support and encouragement <3333

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takaraphoenix · 3 years

Text

Buffy Season 9: Review

It wasn’t... bad, it was actually... good? It didn’t personally offend me, anger me or confuse the living daylights out of me like season 8 did, so I guess major improvements there. It even had a lot of good or interesting things that I found enjoyable or even well-handled (which is a surprise after s8, quite honestly).

I’m annoyed that once again we play the “let’s all blame Buffy for everything” game. That spiel’s gotten annoying... quite frankly, that time everyone betrayed her and kicked her out of her own house in season 7, like that was kind of where everyone lost their “blame Buffy” privileges for me.

Zombie vampires sure were something I personally didn’t need, but I actually genuinely liked the approach here. The thought that okay so vampires are human corpses possessed by demons, but what if the portal to hell is closed for business? And the result was an interesting new angle.

The introduction of generic white nice guy was a bit, you know, boring. The character himself really does just feel like that. Generic white nice guy. Doesn’t really have a personality, just exists so Buffy can have another mayhaps with A Nice Normal GuyTM. Even though we have really exhausted that approach too, in my opinion. She’s not into that. She keeps trying to fool herself into it but she’s not. Move on.

I do dig the angle of police actually training to deal with vampires though. The idea of the supernatural as an open secret is fun but it actually just being open is something I really like, the way it’s going to integrate into our society. I do like that we’re finally seeing more of that. Demons working day jobs, vampires having reality shows and being idolized (which, genuinely figures). That’s interesting.

I admit very personal bias here, but On Your Own was amazing and I loved it. The whole pregnancy scare is a bit of a cliche, but seeing Buffy go through that and how she went about it - talking to Dawn, to Robin, to Spike - the way she approached it and also the painful choice she made in the end. Also, here’s the personal bias, as a Spuffy shipper I obviously very much relish in the fact that her first gut-reaction was to run away with Spike to raise the kid. And her final reaction was to seek him out so he could support her through the abortion. The way it all unfolded in the end was... something else, but okay. And I loved just how feral and angry Spike got on her behalf. Though, gotta say, bit frustrated with how they wrote Andrew here because at this point in time it does feel OoC for him to non-consensually remove Buffy’s mind from her body and into a robot. Not after the actual years they have now been working together.

Wasn’t a fan of the Kennedy stint, that story arc didn’t do much for me and I don’t quite know how I feel about the whole slayers on a payroll thing. Also, seriously, Kennedy was being preak brat again. I don’t like when she’s brattish.

A very interesting element this season was Billy. For one, a boy Slayer is... new. But also just, the entire framework here. Gay boys. Yay. That hasn’t happened before. And Billy and Devon are really cute together? On a more general level I’d like to say that the way they introduced Billy just made me think “yes. this is how you do the soft reboot too, please” - because man I was scared when they first talked about a reboot, but when they backtracked to clarify it’ll be about a new Slayer and not an actual reboot, that was a huge relief. And I do think that Billy showed that that can work, very easily. Heck, even easier on the show, if it ignores the comics (which I assume) and just dives in with a “couple years ago, there was only one Chosen One. Now there are many. I am one of them” and like, that’s it. You need neither Buffy nor anyone else in it (though the cameos would be appreciated), but you can really just... tell the story of a different Slayer, protecting their own town. Sorry, I got sidetracked there. To bring it back: It was really nice and refreshing to see a new Slayer, protecting his own town, learning how to be a Slayer, with his own watcher. Was a bit of a back to the roots.

What I also really enjoyed was Willow in Wonderland. For one, loved the art style of that comic in particular. For another, it was... really interesting? Willow on a one woman journey, trying to restore magic, while actually learning a lot about herself and also snake girlfriend returns? Sign me up. Could have done without the surprise twist toward the end about Rack though. Please, comics, stop bringing dead bad guys back that I never wanted to see again, I beg you.

The finale didn’t... I don’t know... it felt like it was overcompensating, to be honest?

The whole season was quite down to Earth - Buffy working a day job, struggling with that and with rent, going through a personal emotional crisis, that was all very much reflective of s5, seeing the cops try to integrate into this world, new members joining the gang, it felt much more grounded. And then we have a sudden new apocalypse because the evil Slayer teamed up with the siphon and also Xander betrays Buffy for a hot sec because why not and all hell breaks loose, including the demon that first created vampires. The stakes went up a little too high at the end, for my taste, if I compare just how incredibly low-stake and slow-paced this season had been until the final arc.

Generally, I really hated Xander’s writing this season. His constantly rising temper was so... genuinely uncomfortable to watch for me? Having him raise his voice at Dawn, punch walls in anger when she doesn’t immediately obey, slap things out of her hand when her coughing annoys him, yell at her about things. He’s been written like an abusive partner throughout this season and I have so many red flags and alarm bells going off in my head about it. I kept thinking that something magical must have influenced him, but... no? It was just... that he had pent-up anger? And apparently some PTSD or something about everything, I guess? But that’s... that’s really not good reasons for his bevaior toward his girlfriend and all I could think of was the fake vision from Xander and Anya’s wedding and how fake Xander had acted toward her in that. Because that is the Xander he is becoming right now. And I don’t like it. I really hope they backpedal on that one next season.

#Buffy Season 9 #Buffy the Vampire Slayer #Buffy Comics #Buffy Review

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Provisional License Exam & Aftermath, The Boys Are Fighting And Everything Hurts

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Additional content warning for bad communication, emotional breakdowns and general anxiousness. Chapter 9.

***

“Oi. Kiri.”

Another heap of sugar goes into Kirishima’s mug. He stirs a bit, then licks caramel-sweet goodness off the spoon. Perfect. With a content hum, he leans further into the embrace of his favorite armchair.

“Mmyeah?”

Across from him, Bakugou sips his own coffee. Looking all kinds of cozy from his perch by the window, shoes off, U.A.’s uniform narrowed down to just the shirt and pants. Only Iida and Momo have made it down to the common room yet, yawning their way through breakfast with last-minute notes spread out over the kitchen counter.

Their quiet conversation is mere background noise for them. It’s a familiar enough routine that neither duo exchanged more than acknowledging nods before settling into their preferred corners.

Bakugou toes the wood of the windowsill with socked feet, hands calm around his mug. His gaze idles on a group of sparrows outside.

“By this time tomorrow, we’ll be heroes.” Soft-spoken, the words nonetheless sound as solid as ever.

“Provisional ones”, Kirishima reminds him, a mix of excitement and nerves making his leg bounce, the carpet underneath ruffling with the motion. There’s still an exam to pass between then and now. “But still. Licensed and everything.”

“Mh”, Bakugou breathes into his coffee. He sends Kirishima a wry look over its rim. “Nervous?”

Thinking on it for a moment, Kirishima smiles. “Nah, not really. We worked our asses off for it. Like, we totally got this.”

Bakugou’s smirk comes swift and it stays: a dare for the world to do its worst, a promise to come out on top despite it all. Kirishima offers him his fist and Bakugou meets him in the middle, used to the gesture by now. Sparks crackle over rock-hewn skin.

“Damn right we do.”

The names flicker on the screen and Kirishima searches.

K, K, Ki, Kiri– There! Kirishima Eijirou.

“Hell yes”, he cheers, the doubts clinging to his heart dropping all the way to his feet. The second he’s got his phone back, he’ll scream-yell a voice message to his moms – finally, finally, Red Riot will exist out there. In reality, not just his wildest dreams.

Automatically, Kirishima jumps to the beginning of the list.

B, Ba, Baku–

Next to him, Bakugou sucks in a breath. That, more than anything, brings his head crashing from the clouds and straight to the ground, to the spot on that list where Bakugou’s name should be but isn’t. Kirishima frowns, his eyes scanning the row starting with B one more time.

“Dude, what…?” No Bakugou Katsuki. “No way.”

One glimpse, that’s all he gets. One glance at Bakugou’s face and that expression Kirishima recognizes from the longest night of his life, that déjà vu of devastation and loss a sucker punch nailing Kirishima right in the gut–

Before he can reach out, it’s gone. Bakugou grits his teeth and juts his chin up, and any trace of it is replaced by anger. Cold, lethal, seeping into squared shoulders and brows drawn deep enough to cast his gaze in shadows.

“Katsu–”

A harsh tch interrupts him, followed by a softer “Congrats, Riot” mumbled in Kirishima’s direction. Bakugou won’t meet his eyes, though, and when Kirishima’s fingers brush Bakugou’s, he crosses his arms instead.

“Thanks”, Kirishima mumbles back, all thoughts of celebrating dead and gone. He doesn’t try to reach out again.

1-A spills into the common room as one, smiles and laughter all around. The air previously heavy with anticipation now carries only relief, that clean petrichor taste that follows a downpour at the height of summer.

Despite the stone weight of worry in his stomach, Kirishima laughs along with them. He leans into the lanky arm Sero drapes across his shoulders and returns the fist bump Jirou offers him before Kaminari tackle-hugs the three of them towards the couches.

“Smash tournament! Now!”

“It is our last night off before the new term”, Jirou supplies with a shrug. A thoughtful look is cast towards Bakugou, turning sly as it meets Kaminari’s. “Though, may I propose: Rock Band?”

“Ohhh”, coos Sero, joined by an enthusiastic nod by Kaminari. “Whoo yeah! U.A.’s best fake guitarist, reporting for duty!”

Kirishima loves his friends, he really does. If there’s one thing Bakugou has consistently enjoyed during their hangouts, it’s violently crushing them via the e-drum set he brought from home. That thing shows some serious signs of wear, too, the silicone cover warped or even torn in places.

(The high score list features his name like five times before their resident runner-up – Shouji, surprisingly – even makes an appearance, additional limb advantage and all.)

“I’m in. Wanna duo, Jack?” Jirou gives Kirishima a thumbs-up from where she’s already setting up the microphones. He turns around. “Nitro, you–?”

Bakugou isn’t next to him anymore. Before Kirishima can ask, he hears Mina call out, “Blasty, where are you going?”, and follows the question to Bakugou’s turned back clearly headed for the elevators.

“Room”, Bakugou answers, clipped, rough. The glare he throws over his shoulder might as well be lines of caution tape fluttering in the wind, storm sirens howling in the distance. Keep out. “Have fun playing your shitty game.”

Kirishima sees the hurricane about to hit a second before Mina makes a grab for Bakugou’s wrist, determination shining in black-rimmed eyes. “It’s Rock Band”, she tells him, meeting the snarl on Bakugou’s face with stubborn compassion. “You love Rock Band.”

“What do you know, hah?” Bakugou snaps, tugging away. “Fucking– Get off me!”

Mina’s grip tightens, Bakugou’s hand is raised – familiar, so familiar, that glint of rage in blood-red pupils – and Kirishima is on his feet, pulling Mina behind himself to shield her from an explosion that never comes.

It’s a close call, though. Kirishima feels the heat coming off Bakugou’s palm, the wince he tries to hide when he clenches it to a fist instead.

“This isn’t your fight, Shark Teeth. Back off.”

“Bakugou.”

Firm, resolute. Kirishima’s voice is like volcanic glass: smooth on the surface, jagged around the edges. There’s a warning in there, too, his jaw clenched just as tightly as Bakugou’s. “Not cool, man. Mina’s just trying to help.”

Bakugou huffs at the mere notion of that. “Well, Mina can fuck right off. I don’t need shit from any of you.”

The truth is: Bakugou is different with Kirishima, he’s always been. Even now Kirishima can see him shift his weight, change gears in his mind, the door so firmly shut for others left ajar for him.

Bakugou only listens because it’s Kirishima speaking and he hates it, sometimes. Like his word counts above everyone else’s when it doesn’t, it shouldn’t.

“Look, I get why you’re pissed off but it’s not our fault, either. Alright? There’s no point in acting like this, dude.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, that sliver of a chance snuffed out of existence. A vicious sneer takes its place. “Acting like what? Like myself? Give me a break.”

“Guys”, Mina cuts in, sounding meek, uncomfortable. Bakugou doesn’t get to do that, not when he’s proven he’s better than that, time and time again – not when he’s careful with his quirk, when he’s stopped hiding that genuine smile that’s getting less and less rare, when he helps and soothes and pretends not to care and cares so fucking much.

Around them most of the class shuffles along, hovering on the sidelines. Kirishima can feel the looks, the hushed whispers ready to burst into existence, the fidgety sort of concern radiating from Midoriya in waves.

He ignores them all, looking Bakugou dead in the eye when he says: “No, Katsuki, like an asshole. It’s not like you at all.”

Behind him, Mina whispers, “Stop, Kiri, it’s okay.” From the couches come hisses of surprise, a murmured “Woah, dude” that sounds like Kaminari. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that it hurts. It hurts to see Bakugou flinching like he’s been physically struck. To see emotion spill through the cracks in his armor, cracks Kirishima put there. But Bakugou listens when it’s him, and if there’s one thing he needs to hear, it’s this.

“Like, I get it. I know how it feels, you of all people know that. And extra lessons suck ass, believe me.” Kirishima takes a deep breath, letting go of his anger on the exhale until there’s only resolve, that strength he’s fostered and made his own with Bakugou at his side.

“But lashing out at people won’t fix anything. The stuff holding you back – it’s all you, man, that’s what you gotta work on. You’re the manliest person I know, so you’ll definitely get there, and then you’ll keep going until you’re Number One. There’s not a single doubt in my mind that’s how it’s gonna go. But it’s up to you to make sure it does.”

Bakugou is staring at him, pale-faced and still. He opens his mouth. “You done?”, he asks, his voice ground into something raw, something tired.

“Yeah”, Kirishima tells him, gentle again. “Yeah, I think I am.”

A nod. Bakugou glances past him, for a moment, at the ball of tension behind Kirishima that is Mina. Another nod, more hesitant.

“Blasty, I–”

Without another word, Bakugou leaves, shouldering past Midoriya on his way out. Kirishima watches him go and wonders if doing the right thing always feels so much like regret.

I fucked up.

Bundled up in his covers, Kirishima sits on his bed and stares at the wall. The cheerful colors and big exclamation points on his posters are little more than a blur, made obscure by the dark of night settling in around him.

The light switch is just across the room yet impossibly far away. Kirishima’s phone buzzes; the screen comes alive with a notification. It goes ignored.

I fucked up.

Kirishima’s gaze falls to the license in his hands, bland-looking next to the busy camo pattern of his favorite blanket. Red Riot, it says in bold letters under his name, date of birth and affiliation to U.A. – issued today, with the picture they took before they changed into their hero costumes. Himself, grinning with too much teeth, his hair freshly dyed and spiked to the heavens, his uniform done up meticulously.

It feels like a year ago that Bakugou rolled his eyes and fixed his collar, muttering something about ‘looking okay for once’. In turn, Kirishima had nudged and prodded him until he put on his tie, which lasted not one second beyond the flash of the camera.

But–

You done?

The card is small, unassuming, really. Kirishima blinks. One tear, then two pearl over flawless plastic. Three, four, head bowed as they drip, drip, drip down the tip of his nose.

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to get their licenses, take the night off, sing and laugh and headbang to their audience of pixelated metalheads and forget the world for a while.

It was supposed to be about them, about the dream they shared over coffee this morning. About the future they’re reaching for, together.

Kirishima wants to toss the license to places unknown, wants to tell himself that it means nothing but it does. He waited for this moment longer than he cares to trace back, a long time, definitely. All that hard work, the sweat and blood he shed for it – perhaps it’s only right he adds tears to the mix.

Gods, I fucked up so bad.

He sniffs wetly, sets the card aside. There’s a spot for it in his wallet, he made sure of that as they stepped off the bus. Still, he needs to keep it in sight, like object permanence stops being a thing where one’s hero status is concerned.

Again, buzz buzz, his phone rattles quietly against wood. With a shuddering breath, Kirishima reaches for it, reads Simply Mina and 🦊 Eevee Squad 🦊 and swipes right until his home screen is just Riot’s canine smile again. All it does is remind him of an afternoon spent out in the yard, of a snoring dog and gentle touches to soft fur.

Two taps, and he’s back where he started: Staring at fond, red eyes in the corner and the unanswered messages underneath. Kirishima’s lips start to tremble.

Best Bakubro 💣💥

hey (sent 18:12)

can we talk? (sent 18:12)

i’m sorry (sent 18:30)

i’m so fucking sorry baku idk what i was thinking (sent 18:31)

just. please (sent 18:35)

idk what to do (sent 18:35)

katsuki? (sent 19:01)

The last three are still unread. Kirishima had just calmed himself down from the panicked jolt of blue ticks and grey ticks and Bakugou’s gone when a door had slammed shut hard enough to rattle Kirishima’s desk.

Kirishima wanted to go out there. He wanted to catch up to Bakugou and explain himself and make things right; instead he’d stayed right where he was and listened to his distinct stomp growing more and more faint like the coward he is.

There’s been nothing but silence ever since.

“Stop”, Kirishima whispers, a strangled, pathetic noise amidst the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Just s-stop. Fucking stop.” Tilting his head back, he knocks it against the wall, hoping against all hope that he’ll stop crying, that this shivering, miserable thing in his chest will relent and let him breathe for a bit.

Instead, he clenches his eyes shut and lets out a choked sob. It’s followed by another, another, until Kirishima presses his face into the blanket and gives in.

Hands fisting in loose hair, he curls in on himself, head tucked against his knees and desperately gasping for air. The walls are thick but not that thick – Shouji can probably hear him, if he’s even in, and Kirishima silently begs him to stay away. To be allowed to break in private like he’s done a thousand times before, after every moment he spent frozen in place, every time he didn’t act fast enough or act at all.

Were you scared?

He hadn’t been. For once in his life, Kirishima hadn’t been afraid – he’d been angry, furious even, hopeful and disappointed and worried and he’d fucked up because of it. That moment Bakugou shut up and just… took whatever Kirishima had to say is burned into his brain, aching and tender to the touch. Kirishima can’t stop putting his finger on it, though, like revisiting it will make it sting less, somehow.

It doesn’t.

Time is a fickle concept. Kirishima is aware it passes, he’s aware his blanket is soaked, that his back hurts and his heart hurts and his head, too. He’s back to blankly looking at his wall and seeing nothing, only interrupted by an occasional sniffle, when–

The snap of a lock turning, a door opening and closing, much quieter than before.

A glance to his clock tells him it’s an hour to midnight and way past curfew. The worry he felt earlier rekindles, glows bright enough to overshadow any other emotion swirling within him. It’s not like Bakugou to be up this late. It’s not like him to break rules like this.

It’s not like you at all.

Roughly, Kirishima rubs his arm over his face. Enough crying. Enough hiding away. Bakugou deserves better than public callouts and texts sent in a panic. Kirishima promised himself he’d be better – it’s worth next to nothing if he can’t keep it.

That fact doesn’t prevent his heart from beating half-way up his throat by the time he slips out his door and stands in front of Bakugou’s. His hand shakes as it’s raised to knock; Kirishima wills it to steady and raps his knuckles against wood, mindful of the late hour.

“Bakugou?”

Nothing.

“Listen, I…” Kirishima breathes through the squirming of guilt in his gut. “I messed up, man. I know you’re in there and if you’d rather not see me, that’s fine. But I know I hurt you a-and I want to apologize if… if you’ll let me.”

Wringing his hands, he blinks heavily and wills himself not to tear up again. Bakugou has every right to shut him out; it’s up to Kirishima to do what he should’ve done in the first place and respect his wishes.

It’s a reality he doesn’t have to face, however – the knob turns and the door cracks open the slightest bit. When it doesn’t move beyond that, Kirishima pushes for it to open further, sticking his head through the gap.

“Nitro?”

Silhouetted by his bedside lamp, Bakugou is tossing up his covers to properly burrow inside them. “Get your ass in here already”, he says over his shoulder, a bite to his tone Kirishima recognizes from their early days. “And close the door. It’s fucking late.”

He practically jumps to the task. “Okay, yeah, sorry!” Once the door clicks shut, Kirishima shuffles his feet, wanting to get closer but unsure if he’s allowed. Carefully, he makes his way over and stops, half a step in the circle of light cast around Bakugou’s bed.

“So. Um…” His hand brushes red strands behind his ear. His palms are sweaty. “I–”

“Did you mean it?”

Bakugou doesn’t even sound angry; Kirishima would definitely deserve it if he was. He’s unsure if that no-bullshit edge is any better, though, swallowing heavily. “Yeah. Well, kinda. The– the words were right but…” He clenches his hands to fists, brings his gaze up to look at him.

Kirishima’s eyes widen. The rest of that sentence flees from his mind entirely.

“What…?”

Scrapes, bruises, gauze stuck to both cheeks, bandages wrapped around both arms. Back to the wall, legs loosely crossed in front of him, Bakugou looks like he went a round or five with a superpowered bobcat, dried blood clinging to some of the many scratches on his skin.

Yet his eyes are focused, pinning Kirishima with the same precision with which he handles everything in life. “But?”

“Bakugou! What happened?!”

“Picked a fight.” A sharp sniff. Bakugou shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “‘s none of your business. Answer my question.”

Ouch. Kirishima doesn’t linger on that, he can’t, too busy mentally cataloguing the damage and trying not to drag Bakugou to the infirmary ASAP. Which–

“We gotta– Recovery Girl. She’ll heal you right up.”

Bakugou huffs a laugh, no humor in it whatsoever. “Already went. It’s done. Answer the fucking question, Kirishima.”

It’s incredibly hard to unstick his mind from whatever the hell happened there. Like a wrestling match with his own thoughts, struggling to get them on the wrong set of tracks despite his brain frantically gesturing towards Bakugou.

Kirishima rubs his palms over his face, pats his cheeks none-too-gently for good measure. Focus.

“Right. Yes, I meant what I said. It’s– Mina isn’t me, Baku. She can’t take your anger like I can, okay? They… they were just trying to cheer you up and you were out of line. But–”

Bakugou’s gaze isn’t letting him go, intense like they’re mid-battle and he’s trying to figure out Kirishima’s next move. Guard all the way up. Kirishima drops his hands, wide open.

“Your day was already crappy enough without me putting you on the spot like that. You said you wanted to go and I forced you to stay and deal with even more stuff because I was angry and worried and… Yeah. I went about it all wrong and I’m sorry.”

Those damn tears are lurking at the corners of his eyes, itching and burning but Kirishima fights them off. He nods to the ground.

“I really let you down. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Kirishima waits. For a moment that feels eternal, he stands there with his head bowed and his fingers clinging to the edge of his shirt. He fully expects to be met with silence until he gets the memo and leaves.

Then Bakugou sighs.

“You look like hell, y’know that? Your eyes are all puffy and shit.”

Wincing, Kirishima nods again. “I know.” He peeks up through the gaps in his hair.

Bakugou huffs, exasperated and so much more like himself. “Don’t give me that. I’m still pissed at you.”

There. A chance. All it takes is a leap of faith. “But?”, Kirishima asks quietly.

“But nothing, fucker. I’m pissed, full stop.” A glower that would make a quirked-up Aizawa proud. Bakugou crosses his arms; Kirishima ducks his head. “You’re lucky you’re you or I’d have kicked your ass straight to whichever place stupid potato dogs like you go to when they die.”

Don’t laugh. Kirishima bites his lip. Half a second later, a pillow smacks his shoulder with impressive force.

“Shut up. I got it, okay? I know I’m”, a pause filled with teeth grinding audibly, “difficult, I guess. And an asshole. I know all that.”

The urge to laugh is replaced by a shot of vertigo, like Kirishima missed a step down a flight of stairs. Their eyes meet, and Bakugou glares.

“It’s what you said. Don’t you dare take it back now.”

“But that’s not what I mea–”

“Tough shit, bitch, ‘cause that’s what I got from it. It’s fine, okay? If someone’s gonna call me out on my bullshit it’s gotta be you. It’s just–”

Bakugou drops his hands in his lap, staring at the bandages running up to his elbows. There are blisters on his right palm, visible even in the half-dark.

“Not in front of everyone?”, Kirishima offers in a small voice.

A tense breath. “Yeah. Makes me wanna blow up and lose my shit for real.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that. I told you it’s fucking fine.”

“But–”

“Eijirou.”

Kirishima’s heart squeezes. Bakugou looks so exhausted and it’s all his fault. Still, he mumbles, “Okay”, and he wordlessly swears on everything he holds dear that he’ll listen, next time. That he’ll trust Bakugou to do the right thing and stay in control.

“Okay.” Bakugou’s eyes are on him again, less heavy now. “I don’t wanna talk about the fight, either.”

Kirishima’s hands clench, not tight enough to rip into the fabric but close enough. “At all or…?”

“Not sure yet. Definitely not tonight.”

“Okay”, Kirishima repeats. It’s not forever. He can handle anything if it’s not forever. “Um. Are we cool? I get it if… not. I can leave, too. Whatever you want.”

Unexpectedly, Bakugou groans, almost… amused? “Screw you. I should be milking the fuck outta this but… Yeah, we’re cool.”

Oh. Kirishima can’t help the way his resolve wobbles with how relieved he is, keeping his shaky inhale as stealthy as possible. He fucked up and his best friend doesn’t hate him. They’re gonna be okay.

“Kiri…”

There’s a strange expression on Bakugou’s face, pinched and frustrated-looking. His eyes are soft, though. Concerned. “Stop crying, you big baby. C’mere. And bring my pillow, I actually need it.”

Kirishima keeps it casual. He grabs the pillow and pads over instead of running. He tosses it in Bakugou's lap, earning a grumbled, “Thanks.”

Almost casual. There’s an attempt, at least, chucked right out the window the second Bakugou sort-of-maybe-kind-of indicates the possibility of a hug. Then he’s throwing himself on the bed, the sight of raw skin and gauze-white turning his tackle into a marginally gentler embrace of Bakugou’s shoulders.

Bakugou squeezes back, brutally tight. “Hold back on me again and I’m kicking you out.”

A wheeze of breath turns into hushed laughter. “I’ll do better.” Kirishima tucks his face against Bakugou’s neck and sniffles. “I’ll be good, Nitro, I swear.”

Bakugou knocks their heads together, too gentle to even register as that. His lips against Kirishima’s temple, he mumbles, “You already are, idiot. One dumb mistake won’t change that.”

>>Chapter 9.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bnha fanfiction #this fic is also on AO3!!#baku is soft - a longfic #my stuff

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Longest Night (42) Speaking

Ao3 | FF.net

“So, it’s been two weeks since Dr. Boucher removed your vocal nodules. Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

Adrien shook his head.

This was his first therapy session. Dr. Robin Zollar, a woman that exuded warmth and kindness. Her voice was sweet and a little silly, and she reminded him of the fairy godmother from Cinderella. That may have been why he was responding to her so well.

Besides speaking, of course.

“Does your throat still hurt?”

Shake.

“Have you actually tried speaking?”

Shake.

“And I’m guessing you really have no desire to either, right?”

Nod.

“Okay. Talking with Marinette, it seems like she’s been speaking a lot on your behalf. That’s fine and all, but you will need to develop a voice of your own. Do you feel like you have no need to speak?”

Nod.

“Because Marinette speaks for you?”

Shake.

“No? Well, that is a lot different than I expected. I would like to know a little bit more about that. Would you be willing to write down what it is that you’re feeling, if you won’t say it out loud?” She pushed a pen and pad of paper towards him.

He stared at it for a long while.

—

“You’re serious?” Marinette crossed her arms and frowned at him.

Gabriel held a tennis ball in his hand. “I mean, it wasn’t my idea. But my therapist said it might be a good way to connect with Adrien.”

“Catch. With his arm in a sling.”

“That’s why it’s a tennis ball.”

Marinette sighed and looked at Adrien. “What do you think, kitty?”

He sat at the end of his bed and shrugged.

“A little physical activity isn’t going to kill you.” Gabriel admonished.

“Yeah, but it could pull his stitches if he’s not careful.”

“Do I look stupid, Marinette? It’s not even catch, we’re just tossing it back and forth.”

Marinette frowned at the man, while Adrien gave a weak grunt.

Gabriel tossed him the ball, and Adrien caught it, throwing it back.

“Sleep alright last night?”

“The usual,” Said Marinette, on her phone while she sat on the couch.

“I was talking to Adrien.”

“Right.”

Marinette listened as the ball was tossed back and forth a few times. Before Gabriel repeated again, “Did you sleep alright last night?”

Adrien didn’t respond.

“I said, did you sleep well?”

There was a grunt.

“Shrugging and grunting mean nothing to me. The doctor gave the okay, you can use your voice now.”

“He doesn’t want to talk,” Marinette pressed. “Don’t force him.”

“Marinette, again, I’m talking to Adrien.”

She chuckled darkly, knowing his efforts were fruitless.

“I have someone who’s coming to visit soon. And your Aunt Amilie and Felix want to come and visit too. That will be fun, won’t it?”

Marinette closed her phone and sat up, looking over the back of the couch to watch this awkward one sided conversation.

“Felix himself emailed me and asked me about you. He wanted continual updates, since they didn’t get the same news broadcast over in London. He really cares about you.”

Adrien just pitifully watched the ball, but did little else. It was obvious Gabriel was not happy with his body language, so he steeled himself into a neutral, professional posture.

Marinette hated it.

“Nathalie was helping with the company while I was busy with the investigation with you. Now that you’re safe, she’ll be taking a little vacation. But she assures me that she’ll be back soon, and that she can’t wait to see you.”

The ball was tossed, caught, tossed.

“Isn’t that nice? Nathalie missed you.”

Toss. Catch. Toss.

“I said, isn’t that nice?”

“He’s mute, not deaf.” Marinette drawled.

Gabriel turned and looked at her. “Look, if you keep talking for him, and encouraging this behavior, he’s never going to speak. It’s learned helplessness at this point, and someone has to train it out of him. So shut up.”

The tennis ball hit Gabriel in the head.

“Excuse me!?” Gabriel whirled at his son.

Adrien hissed at him, like a feral cat.

Gabriel scoffed in disgust. “You’re not an animal! If you are angry with me, I expect you to use your words in a level tone.”

“We were treated like animals for weeks.” Marinette bit. “Sorry, it’s hard to think otherwise.”

“Out,” Gabriel nearly shouted at her. “You’re not helping. Go bother your parents for a while.”

With tears in her eyes, Marinette stood and started from the room.

Adrien whined and tried to follow.

“No!” Gabriel ordered. “You stay here! We’re playing catch!”

Outside the room, Marinette started down the stairs, but got weak and had to sit.

“Yikes, cringe.” Said Plagg, coming up to her side.

“You saw that huh?”

“I’ve been trying to give you both space and privacy, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to watch over Adrien like the little fairy godfather I am.”

“Was Gabriel right? Am I talking for Adrien too much?”

“Ehhhh, I tend to believe that that man is never right. Even when he’s right he’s wrong. But in this case, he’s wrong wrong. You guys are only two weeks out of the hospital. A month out of torture. I’m still trying to catch up with all the footage, and he’s trying to rush the recovery process. But when you do that, it makes everything worse.”

Marinette exhaled, feeling at least vindicated.

“Marinette, even if you do something ‘wrong’ right now, no one should blame you for it. Sure, we’ll reprimand you, but you’re dealing with a lot of shit, and your mind isn’t totally clear. Don’t feel guilty for trying to protect Adrien.”

“Thanks Plagg. That helps.” She glanced up at Adrien’s bedroom door. “I better get back in there.”

Marinette climbed the stairs again, coming up to the door.

As she opened it, she stared in horror as Gabriel stood over Adrien, a finger in his face, nearly spitting in anger.

Adrien’s expression was completely zoned out. A defense mechanism that he had adopted in their hellhole.

He was gone. And would probably continue to be so for a few hours. Did his mind go blank? Or did he retreat into a daydream? There was no way of knowing.

She shouldn’t have left the room.

“…not only is it disrespectful, it’s counterproductive. How are we supposed to help you if you won’t talk to us? You never had a problem speaking your mind before!”

Marinette slid onto the bed next to Adrien, grabbing him around the waist and pulling his head to her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

Adrien didn’t respond.

Plagg got between them and Gabriel. “You’re done.”

“I’m only trying to help.”

“You put him into shock. How does that help him? You’ve removed him from this plain of reality. Great job. Dad of the year.”

“Look, I just wanted to—“

“Are you still here?” Marinette snapped. “Get out. Now!”

“I’m not going anywhere! This is my house, and Adrien is my son!”

“He’s my husband!”

Gabriel clenched his fist. “That wedding was a sham. You’re as much of his wife as you are a ball and chain around his ankle. He’ll never get better with you dragging him back!”

The door swung open, banging against the wall. Marinette jumped at the noise and held onto Adrien.

Tom and Sabine entered, having been sent for by Tikki.

“Can you give us a moment?” Gabriel asked like he hadn’t just verbally punched Marinette in the gut. “We were having a discussion.”

Sabine said nothing, but slapped Gabriel across his face. “Be glad it was only a slap.” She bit.

“That’s assault!”

“And I bet the judge will be real sympathetic to you after what you said to our daughter and son-in-law.”

Gabriel just scowled at them. “I feel like we’ve had this discussion before.”

“We did, and last time, Adrien started crying. We can continue this discussion out in the lobby.”

“I’m not done talking to Adrien!”

Tom cracked his knuckles. “Oh, yes you are.” With one swift scoop, Tom had Gabriel draped over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Put me down! I can walk!”

“This is what I used to do with Marinette when she was a child and threw tantrums in a store. You’re going to act like a child, we’re going to treat you like a child.”

“I’m not a child!” Was the last thing Marinette heard before Sabine shut the door.

“Are you alright honey?” Sabine asked, sitting beside Adrien.

Marinette swallowed back tears. “I knew it…I want to help Adrien…but I’m making everything worse…”

Sabine looked to heaven. “Lord, I’m going to kick that man’s ass.” She shook her head. “No, no Marinette, Adrien needs you right now.” She delicately pet Adrien’s hair. “He feels safe around you, and you understand him the best. Gabriel is lost and frustrated right now. He has no idea how to act. And believe me, it’s hard for us too. I worry every day about what the right thing to do is.”

“But you don’t…you don’t yell at me.”

“Because yelling at you never helped in the past. We’ve talked sternly to you when you were in trouble, and we did groundings, and the occasional spanking when you were very very bad. But yelling only made you afraid and distrusting. I suspect that’s the attitude from Adrien he’s used to.”

Adrien didn’t respond in any way, just continued to bore a hole in the floor with his dull gaze.

“The doctor said that you being together was good. And what does Gabriel know about this kind of stuff? He designs clothes.”

Marinette cracked a smile.

“Your father and I will sit him down and have a good stern talking to him. He’s the one making things worse.”

Marinette breathed a calming breath. “Okay.” She let go of Adrien, only to take hold of his face and guide him to look at her. “Kitty?”

He blinked owlishly at her.

“You with me?”

Another slow blink.

“Is he alright?” Sabine asked.

“No, he’s—“ Marinette clenched her eyes shut. “He was like this back in…”

“That place.”

“Yeah, he…when things would get bad, he sort of…shut down. Salo said it was a sign of death. I think he’s trying to protect himself.” She pet his hair, and kissed his cheeks.

“What can I do to help?”

“Can we move him to the couch?”

Sabine nodded and stood, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Despite being mentally checked out, he was still respondent to movement. As they pulled him to his feet, he stood on his own, though still weakly. They guided him slowly over to the couch and had him sit down.

“Here’s a nice warm blanket. Do you want some tea?”

“Yes please, maman.”

Plagg spoke up from where he was silently watching. “I think Adrien would really enjoy a coke.”

“Are you sure?”

“He might only have a few sips, but it’s his favorite drink.” Then he whispered conspiratorially, “but his dad never lets him have it.”

“Okay, I think I’m following.”

“Marinette, you play video games, right?” Plagg asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. I’ll put in his favorite game, and you play it, and see if that rouses him.”

“Good thinking!”

Plagg floated over to the TV, and turned on the console while Sabine left to get them snacks.

Marinette leaned over and placed another kiss on his cheek.

The drum beats started up as the main menu came up.

Marinette groaned. “Skyrim...”

“What? Don’t like it?”

“I’ve never played it!”

“You’ve never played Skyrim?!” Plagg nearly shouted in mock offense. He didn’t actually care, but old Adrien would have.

“I know the memes, Sneak 100, ‘I took an arrow to the knee’ but I never actually sat down and played it. It’s so long!”

“Well, you got a lot of time on your hands now. Might as well start!”

“Yeah, might as well...”

She modeled her character to look like Ladybug, with red paint over the eyes to replicate a mask.

As she started playing, Sabine came back and left the snacks.

Marinette paused the game to help Adrien take a few sips of his drink. She placed the can in his good hand and brought it to his lips. Then she tilted the can slightly, watching as he drank on his own.

It didn’t rouse a response.

“If this goes on much longer, I’m going to call the doctor.” Said Sabine. “I’m worried.”

“Me too.” Said Marinette, sweeping the bangs from his forehead.

Sabine stayed and watched the game, wincing when Marinette sliced someone’s head off with a sword.

“This is pretty gory, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, it’s almost cartoonish. I...I did much worse.”

Marinette continued to sneak glances at Adrien. He seemed to be watching the screen now, instead of looking through it. His eyes followed her character, and Sabine took it as a sign that he had mostly come back around.

“Feeling a little better, Adrien?” She asked.

He hummed.

So she left them alone.

Tikki sat on Marinette’s lap, while Plagg nuzzled into Adrien’s hair. The room was quiet, the volume on the game turned down, and only soft ambient music was heard.

“I love you.”

Marinette blinked. The voice was so soft, so rough, and wavering, she didn’t think she heard it at first. But she turned to look at Adrien, seeing that he was looking at her. Her breathing picked up, as she waited, begging him to speak again. She bit her lip to keep her from speaking and interrupting if he did say something.

“I didn’t know what else to say.”

She shook her head at him, and turned her body to face him. “Say whatever you want. You know I won’t judge.” She leaned in, staring deep into his eyes to prove he had her full attention.

Adrien rested a hand on hers, squeezing slightly. He met her gaze, holding it with his breath.

“You…” He began, only to pause.

“Yes?” She urged.

“You…are really bad at this game.”

Marinette nearly collapsed on him, she was laughing so hard.

—

Adrien recalled this very special moment with his lady after the therapist handed the notepad. So he had lied. He had spoken to someone. His other half, his partner, his soulmate. But it felt a lot less like ‘finally speaking’ then it did sharing a secret. He had confided as much in her then. He still didn’t want to talk, but with her it was different.

With her, he felt safe, free, and wanted. He could talk for hours, or say nothing. Either way, he was comfortable.

“Adrien?” The therapist asked delicately, as he hadn’t written anything. “If you prefer not to answer, that’s fine too. We have a half an hour left in this session.”

He was inclined to write out his feelings just as much as he was to speak. It was hard to find the words. Much less ones that were worthy of being spoken.

Finally, he admitted what he didn’t want to.

Why bother speaking if no one will listen?

—

It was evening when she arrived. The sun was just about to set, sending La Grande Paris into glittering gold and orange light.

Though it felt weird to be staying in a hotel when her home was just a block away.

Disguised with sunglasses and a handkerchief, Emilie was escorted upstairs to the nicest suite available.

And inside awaited her dearly beloved husband.

“Gabriel?” She asked softly.

She heard his breath caught in his throat. “Emilie…” In a few quick strides, he was on her, embracing her, kissing her, weeping on her. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’m here darling, I’m here…” She whispered, shedding tears of her own.

They stayed that way a long while, just in each other’s arms. Occasionally sharing kisses and words of love.

Finally, Gabriel pulled away to look her up and down. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m actually not. I slept on the plane, and then I’ve been nervous ever since landing.”

“Nervous? About what?”

“About being gone, seeing you again, what I’m going to see…”

“Oh.” He huffed. “Well, did you want to shower? Are you hungry?”

“Yes to both.”

“I’ve packed some clothes for you. Why don’t we get you all settled in, and then I’ll tell you the whole sad story.”

“And Adrien?”

“He’s home.”

“When will I get to see him?”

Gabriel gnawed on his bottom lip. “Well…soon, I hope. But, he’s changed a lot.”

“So have you.” Emilie pet his hair. “You’ve gone gray.”

“I think I look distinguished.”

“You look old.”

“You haven’t aged a day, my love.”

Emilie smiled softly, leaning in to give him a small kiss. “Flatterer.”

“But about Adrien…you see, he’s not speaking to anyone. I’m hoping that seeing you again will give him that spark.”

“Does he know what happened?”

“…not quite.”

“What does he think happened to me? Does he think I’m dead? Would seeing me shock him?”

“I think it might be a little shocking, but he just thinks you disappeared. Makes things a little easier to explain.”

“Speaking of explaining…”

“Shower, dinner, then I’ll get to it.”

At 3 AM, Gabriel hustled out of La Grande Paris, having done far too much damage. Good thing it was dark, or half of Paris would have questioned why the Gabriel Agreste was leaving a hotel late at night while a mysterious woman screamed obscenities at him from a balcony.

#miraculous ladybug #longest night #ml #ladybug #chat noir #gabriel agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette

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tonystarkstan · 5 years

Text

warning: graphically depicts anxiety, some intrusive thoughts, and brief thoughts of self-harm. please be safe reading this. <3

There is an itch under his skin, and it scares him. It crawls through his veins like an angry current, always moving but having nowhere to go. It coils around him, squeezes air from his lungs, and the most coherent thing Peter can think is: I fucking hate anxiety.

He swings erratically through the city, hoping to escape his anxiety and frustrated at the way it’s lodged itself in his chest, an inescapable anchor. He flies through the air, and the weight in his gut pulls him back down again.

He could scream. He wants to scream. What am I even afraid of? he asks himself. Logic tells him he’s okay. Logic tells him that he is safe and May is safe and there is no need to be anxious right now, and yet a voice in his head answers with, Everything.

Suddenly, he wants nothing more than to tear his mask off. He inhales, and it feels like the cloth is blocking all the air. His chest seizes with panic and he swings faster, the inside of his head feeling like someone is scraping their nails on the inside of his skull.

He has an absurd urge to swing into a wall, if only to make it stop.

The thought catches him off guard, scares him more than anything else. Don’t be so fucking dramatic, Parker, he scolds himself, but it does little to tame the growing flame of I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared please help me inside of him.

He takes a sharp right, ignoring the way it pulls brutally at his shoulder, and he swings desperately towards the familiar Tower. His brain crawls with intrusive thoughts that take root in his anxiousness and whisper that if he just let himself break break break he’d feel better.

Peter shakes his head violently as he swings, hoping to scramble the thoughts, because he knows—he knows—that was never the answer. And still, the thoughts tug at him with skeletal hands and he entertains the thought of following. It would be easy, he thinks, to just “accidentally” scrape himself against a building, to play it off as him being clumsy.

But he forces his eyes to stay on the Tower ahead, because that’s a door he can’t open—refuses to open.

He crashes heavily onto the balcony of Tony’s penthouse, and he hears a voice—FRIDAY, his brain supplies distantly—greet him, but he can’t make himself move anymore, much less say anything back.

He claws at his mask, almost feral, and even when it’s off, he’s still scratching at his neck, fruitlessly pulling at invisible vines of anxiety.

He freezes at the sound of rapid footsteps approaching.

“Peter, what—Peter!”

Any other time, Peter would laugh at the baffled look on Tony’s face, hair sticking up in all different directions and clothes rumpled from sleep. Outside the lab, Tony nearly always looks completely put-together.

But Tony’s expression is marred with confusion and horror, and Peter jerks his hand away from his throat, feeling stupid and ashamed. It doesn’t stop the feeling of having the air squeezed out of him, though.

“Are you hurt?” Tony asks, and it comes out sharper than intended, but Peter doesn’t mind. He latches onto it. Finally, a voice that isn’t the one in his head.

Not in a way you can fix, Peter thinks, but he just shakes his head at Tony. That’s not what he’s asking anyway.

Tony opens his mouth, presumably to shoot another question at him, but closes it again in favor of studying the kid before him. Peter’s still sitting on the floor of the balcony, but nothing about him is still. His fingers tap and fidget nervously against the floor, and his whole body is trembling.

Eventually, Tony just nods to himself and sits on the floor, cross-legged in front of Peter.

“You’re scared,” Tony states simply, as if the chaos inside of Peter’s head can be summed up with one simple word. And maybe it can. Maybe everything that feels so big and complex, that feels like a never-ending free fall, can fit inside six little letters.

Maybe he’s just being ridiculous.

He nods anyway, because it’s late and he’s tired and Tony can see the truth written on his face anyway.

“Of what?” Tony asks.

And that’s—that’s the thing. There’s nothing wrong. There’s nothing wrong now. But even as he thinks it, dread twists its fingers into his ribs, and Peter nearly whimpers at the inescapable feeling that even though things are okay now, they might not be soon.

But he doesn’t know how to put that into words, so he just shrugs.

“That’s okay,” Tony says. “We can—we can work with that.”

Peter huffs out a startled laugh, because only Tony could be given nothing and still make something out of it.

“Laughing’s good, too,” Tony comments. “Though we could probably work on the sincerity a bit, yeah? That was pretty weak, as laughs go.”

A smile tugs at Peter’s lips, and he feels the anxiety thrumming in his veins start to recede as he listens to Tony’s voice.

“Part of me thinks I should probably have a talk with you about crash-landing onto my balcony at almost two in the morning, but the other part of me can’t blame you,” Tony quips. “It’s a nice balcony. Pepper designed it, actually. Something about needing air from me occasionally, which is fair but rude.”

Peter closes his eyes as he listens to Tony talk, letting the man’s voice works its way into his chest and loosen the knot there, soothing his trembling body and fidgeting fingers. But even as he begins to calm, there’s a knife-sharp thought that’s tearing through his skull and pushing through his lips before he can stop it.

“Everything’s okay,” he blurts out, and Tony stops, brows furrowed.

“Yeah,” he agrees slowly. “You’re okay.”

But that’s not—Peter shakes his head and makes a frustrated noise. “No, I mean—everything’s okay,” he repeats.

Tony gives him a confused look, trying to understand. “Is that... is that bad?”

“No,” Peter says, almost defensive. “I mean—it’s just...” He picks up his mask next to him and tugs gently at the fabric, giving his hands something to do as he tries to make his thoughts coherent. After a moment, he swallows and looks up at Tony. “But what about when it’s not? When it—it stops being okay? I mean, it always stops, eventually, and I can’t—“ Peter cuts off, breath hitching, “I can’t—“

“Whoa whoa, hey,” Tony soothes, finally jumping in. “Hey, look at me,” he says, and waits for Peter to do so.

He locks eyes with the kid, sees the desperation there, and understands: after so much tragedy, Peter is scared of the times in-between. He’s waiting for his next one, terrified of it.

“It’s hard,” Tony says, because he understands it, too. It’s why he’s never been able to stop building his suits, why he can’t let them go. “The bad days are bad, but the good days are just as scary, right? Because you don’t want to trust them.”

Peter’s face crumples a little bit, and he nods, feeling a mixture of devastation and relief at having his thoughts voiced coherently by someone else.

“Let me tell you a secret, buddy,” Tony says softly. “You don’t have to trust the good days. Enjoy them as much as you can, but yeah. In our line of work, there’s always another bad day or week or month coming. So you’ve gotta trust yourself and the people around you.”

Peter’s watching him with wide, teary eyes, hanging on to every word, and Tony dreads the day that Peter stops looking at him with such blind faith.

“Whatever hard thing comes next is gonna suck,” Tony says frankly. “But you’ve gotten through them before with much more grace that anyone I’ve ever known. And you’ll get through them again. And you’ll have me and May and Happy. I, for one, am definitely not going anywhere. I signed a contract with God and now I have to babysit you, so.”

Peter swipes messily at his face and laughs tearfully. “If you’re my babysitter then why is Happy always grumbling about babysitting me?”

Tony rolls his eyes, inwardly relieved to see the kid brightening up. “Because Happy’s a drama queen, that’s why.”

“Rhodey told me that’s your title,” Peter informs him with a small smirk, and Tony gives him a wounded look.

“Did he now? I’m not dramatic—I’m realistic,” Tony insists, pushing himself to his feet and groaning when his knees pop.

“Sureeee,” Peter teases as Tony offers a hand and pulls him up before ruffling his hair. They make their way inside.

“FRIDAY’s already notified May, so you’re free to sleep in your room here tonight,” Tony says quietly, and Peter feels a flash of guilt for not notifying his aunt.

“Thank you,” he tells Tony earnestly, and Tony knows it’s for more than just giving him a place to stay tonight.

“Anytime,” Tony replies, and he means it. “Now go to sleep before Pepper comes out and kills us both.”

Peter smiles sheepishly and ducks into his room with a small wave and a quiet, “Goodnight.”

And when he goes to sleep, everything is still okay.

(Sometimes, we are afraid of things we can’t see. Sometimes, we’re afraid to be happy because we’re scared of what comes in its absence.

And when that happens, don’t forget to trust yourself. Don’t forget that you’ve made it through every hard moment life’s thrown at you so far. You’ll do it again. And it’ll be okay.)

405 notes · View notes

thebookomens · 4 years

Text

Reaction to Ghost of The Shadow Market by Cassandra Clare

At first, I wasn’t too excited to read Ghosts of the Shadow Market, which is why it took me so long to read it. I just couldn’t bring myself to read it. But I was surprised, although not all the stories marked my attention the majority of them did. No going to lie Cecil Montclaire I was not excited to read about, but I stan now.

Cast Long Shadow:

● I had liked Matthew from the first time we meet him in Nothing but Shadows and I had heard the rumour that he was Gideon’s bastard, which in my mind the only way that happened is if both Henry and Charlotte knew they wouldn’t be able to have more children and were willing to try other ways. I did not, however, envision that he would go that far to have answers.

● I loooooooooove Jem.

o I was so happy to see him being protective of his friends’ children.

● Matthew, unlike our other heroes, is extremely naïve when it comes to the hate downworlders have towards Nephilim or at least that is the impression I got. Especially for the time, he lives in, which is still only about a decade after the Accords are put in place. It kills me though to have seen his innocence killed the way it was, trusting the wrong faerie.

o Also, that old fairy can take her potion and drink it. I did not, however, realize how important she was. Which is what I love in the end about this book, how the plot in every story is linked.

Every Exquisite Thing:

● This was definitely the hardest one for me to read, maybe because the character of Anna that we were being given was so different from what we knew about her. She had none of the confidence and swagger we had heard or seen before.

● However, I loved Cecily and Gabriel in this one, maybe more than I ever had. Mostly because we get to see them as adults and how supportive they are of their children: Christopher likes to blow stuff up? let’s help him, as long as it’s not our house he blows up; our daughter is a lesbian who wants to look good in pants Gabriel and Cecily argue over what colour of pants would look better on her.

o Although I liked Ariadne, and can understand her point of view, I am happy that Anna refuses to hide who she is and simply marry a man that will try and understand her.

● I can’t help but wonder however what happened to these Lightwoods, rebellious and accepting to turn them into Robert Lightwood and his parents.

● Now about the bigger plot, it did intrigue me that we at this point know more than Jem about what he is looking for, but still know very little in actuality. We don’t know much about Kit’s mother or his ancestor.

● Overall, this one had very little to do with the First Heir storyline and we instead find Jem chasing Tessa’s mysterious father, which probably means said demonic father will be important to the Last Hour storyline. But this is just a guess.

Learn about Loss:

● I think the title has a bit to do with the fact we find out about the lost Herondale and the first Heir that were, at that time using, the last name Loss.

o Might also have to do with Jem coming to terms with Will’s imminent death.

● Looooooved Sister Emilia and I hope we see her again, maybe her meeting Jem with Tessa and little Mia and Kit. But I just want to see how badass she became.

● I hate that Will is close to death and Jem can’t be with him like he wants, although I knew he would eventually die, I am firmly staying in denial.

● That last scene of them together was beautiful though.

● Overall, this is when we are really introduced to The First Heir plot before Jem was chasing for Tessa’s father, but now he starts looking for the lost Herondales. This one and Deeper love is kind of an ending the the ID and LH Crew.

A Deeper Love

● Jem and Tessa!!!!!! Together!!!!!

o But also mourning Will which makes me sad.

● This story is maybe a couple of years after Will’s death, Tessa is trying to move on, but can’t stay in London and watch the rest of her family die, so she enlists.

● Tessa and Catarina getting to have a friendship and help people at the same time is awesome.

● Jem is reckless and gets hurt, but then we get to see him and Tessa, so it is worth it.

● Jem knowing, he can’t be with Tessa right now is heartbreaking, but true.

● Jem and Tessa find out the story about the Lost Herondales from Catarina.

● Overall, I am going, to be honest, this one I did not really like, maybe because it is just after Will’s death, I don’t really know why. But it is kind of a transition from Will and Tessa as a couple to Jem and Tessa.

The Wicked Ones:

● First Off, this is the first one where we read about Jem not understanding feelings or remembering them and it gutted me.

● Meeting Céline was beautiful. I had never had a good opinion of her before and finally getting inside her head was worth it. I apologize for never giving her a second thought before, she is such a strong and sad person who deserved the world, who deserved finding someone who would have loved her, and I saw some of Jace in her. Their absolute love and bad sense of morals, their weakness for a place to belong and their empathy towards downwolders.

o Good riddance with her parents.

● The way Valentine manipulated her and used her is sickening. Far more than with any of the others.

● Stephen Herondale how are you a descendant of Will and James??????!!??!?!?!?!?

● Meeting Rosemary was… enlightening. She loved fiercely, her distrust of shadowhunters is understandable.

o She is definitely not someone I would want to cross.

● Overall, I loved this one, more than the ones before. Meeting Céline and Rosemary, two women willing to do evil for their love is a beautiful parallel. Two strong women who were almost saved, but eventually chose love over anything. It is even more heartbreaking by Jem trying to remember the feeling because he had it once.

Son of the Dawn:

● This is really the story where we only see Brother Zachariah at the beginning, until the institute where we finally see Jem surface. We really get to see how being a silent brother is killing Jem.

● Raphael and Lily are awesome and deserved better.

o I didn’t realize how much I miss Raphael and him refusing to admit to having friendships.

o I wish I had Lily Chen’s ability to come up with nicknames, which is a superpower.

● Yin fen…. How is that shit still around??? Why hasn’t someone destroyed it???? You have to have no morals to sell that shit.

● Baby Lightwoods!!!!!!!!!

o The fact 12-year-old Alec had a crush on Raphael is awesome.

o Baby Max is adorable and so beautiful

o Little Isabelle is as fierce as her older self.

o Tiny Jace deciding on his parabatai the moment he saw him makes me happy.

● I love the fact that Jace was able to remind Jem of Will and Tessa, bring him back from the emotionless state of the Silent Brothers.

● Suddenly my dislike of Robert and Maryse returned. The way they spoke to Raphael is disgusting.

● Overall the story is not that important to the plot of the First Heir and Kit, but it does give us an insight into Jem having to fight to remain human and remember why he became a Silent Brother, to in the end be saved. We also get to see the old crew (minus Simon, Clary, and Magnus) as they were still innocent children.

The Land I Lost:

● I loved this story, mostly because we get the Lightwood-Banes, and Alec being the badass he is.

● Lily Chen is a hilarious and beautiful person and I sooooo wish we had seen more of her during the Mortal Instruments and can’t wait to see more of her in Wicked Power and The Eldest Curse.

o Alec and Lily’s friendship is wholesome and deserves more pages honestly.

o Alec understanding, he has privileges and using it was awesome.

o The fact that Lily totally knew Alec once has a crush on Raphael.

o I think that almost every downwolder has one Nephilim that makes them see Shadowhunters in a different light. For Magnus there was Will, Tessa had the London Institute, Kieran had Cristina, Gwyn had Diana, and Lily has Alec (and kind of Cordelia Carstairs).

● Feral Rafael!!!!!!!

● The fact Alec did not realize he had adopted Rafael warms my heart

● Max being soooooo happy to have a sibling filled my heart.

● Magnus having his moment with Rafael where he just knew, the same way Alec did with Max.

o I do like the parallel with both.

● We finally learn about the old Faerie that gave Matthew the potion that hurts his mother and let me tell you: she can cram her Herondale-anger down her throat and choke on it.

● Jem and Tessa!!!!!! Finally, happy!!!!!!

● Juliette is a queen and not just of the Shadow Market.

● I really love how the storylines and the books are converging more and more. With Juliette and her daughter from the Eldest Curse, Mother Hawthorn and Kit’s storyline.

● Overall, I loved this story not only because we had Alec and Jem with Tessa, but mostly because we get to really see Alec as the man that would move heaven and hell to make the world a better place for his family.

Through Blood, Through Fire:

● This one was not that interesting other than for the details we got about Rosemary since it centers on a story that we already know the ending too. We simply get the final details of Kit’s background.

● As a character I loved Rosemary, someone who would do anything to be free and at the same time would lock herself up for her son. If only Johnny/Jack could have loved his son as much.

● Getting Rosemary’s backstory does let us understand her distrust of shadowhunters and how much she loved Johnny/Jack.

● Overall, we finally get the last bits of detail of the First Heir storyline.

The Lost World:

● Baby Mia.

o I really just want to talk about baby Mia, but other than her almost getting possessed, she is not really the focus of this novel.

● Livy, I fear will become a problem in the future, I feel like she might lose control at some important moment, but that just might be me being negative.

● I really want to know what the Dimmet Tarn is and what it can do.

o I can’t help but think it’s some kind of passage to the afterlife and that’s why Livy is going towards it.

● I already love Irene and can’t wait to see more of her in the future. The fact that she can feel ghosts and other creatures will be useful.

● Poor Ty, I feel like he is trying really hard to punish himself and he can’t understand the emotions he is feeling, so he is just assuming he did something wrong.

● Idris News: I honestly thought that locking themselves up in Idris was the stupidest thing the Cohort had ever done. They can’t hunt demons; they can’t get imports of food and they are totally cut off from the world. How exactly are they going to survive??? The fact they actually have a plan and want to wreak havoc makes sense, but I feel like they are still outnumbered and outgunned.

● Good to see Magnus being the most adult adult.

● Overall, I liked this one, didn’t love it, but it was nice to see the characters. I feel like some points here will be important in Wicked Powers, like the Idris’ News and Dimmet Tarn. Also, Mia.

Forever Fallen:

● Probably the one I was the most excited about reading other than the Land I Lost.

● I love the idea of Thule and the characters having to be brought into the canon universe to fight Janus.

o I can’t wait to see Thule Simon. I mean this is a Simon who has pretty much lost everything and is trying to kill someone who could have once been his friend.

● The fact we got to see a day in the park for the Lightwood-Banes was probably my favourite part.

● I got scared when Max was talking to Janus.

● I feel like Lily Chen and her deal with Janus is going to end horribly, I want to think she is smarter than that, she was taught by Raphael after all, but love makes idiots of us all. So, there might be a plan there, but I am not sure.

● The way Janus thinks reminded me of when the group was shown their deepest desires but twisted when they went to Eden. He lost everything and more than anything wants to protect those he considers family but isn't capable of understanding emotions anymore or morals.

● The Carstairs-Gray household is wholesome and loving and I adore them.

o The fact Kit finally has parents that love and support him.

o I love how much Jem and Tessa consider Kit their son.

o Mia and Kit!!!!!!!!!!!!

● However, I do feel like the ending was ominous towards the fact the Kit will eventually have to become or do something because of being the descendant of the first heir. They said he wasn’t an heir technically, but he did throw the Riders across a field in QOAAD, therefore I think he has more power then they imagine but it's locked inside of him.

● Overall, I loved it, it leaves us wanting more of the MI and AD crew, for which we will have to wait and foreshadow that the First Heir storyline will be important to Wicked Powers. I love the way it ties the plot of the entire book, which was finding and protecting the First Heir into Jem and Tessa finally getting their happy ending with their two beautiful children.

Overall:

I love pretty much anything Cassandra Clare writes especially in the Shadowhunter world. I would recommend this book, mostly because it ties into the storyline we will be reading in Wicked Powers and gives us an insight into Matthew and Anna, as well as the fact that Tessa’s demonic father will be important.

It is a nice between while we read The Last Hour series and wait for the Wicked Powers.

In cases like this series you pretty much have to read all the books, because sometimes there are small details that are important to the whole storyline in every book and novel, however, individually I would recommend:

● The Wicked Ones:

● The Land I Lost

● Forever Fallen.

For the Last Hour Storyline:

● Cast Long Shadows

● Every Exquisite Thing

For the First Heir Storyline (The reason I separate this one from Wicked Powers is that it doesn’t foreshadow anything about the storyline it just explains the First Heir, but the First Heir will probably be important to the Wicked Powers Storyline):

● Learn about Loss

● A Deeper Love

● Wicked One

● The Land I lost

● Through Blood, Through Fire

The Wicked Powers Storyline:

● The Lost World

● Forever Fallen

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handsoffmyfriends · 4 years

Text

winter roulette

chapter one - entrance exam

— masterlist

WORD COUNT: 3,588

"Don't make a fool of me today, Kagami."

Not Akira, not her given name. He called her Kagami. Her own father didn't use her given name— wait, no, she reminded herself, he was only her adoptive father. She kept catching the old train of thought, kept having to correct herself that the number two hero was not, in fact, her real father, despite all her memories of childhood telling her otherwise. Who else was there?

She couldn't remember, she had lost her real parents far too young. She had vague glimpses of her mother, of a red haired, red eyed woman but Akira felt no connection to those foggy memories. If it weren't for her own red eyes, she wouldn't even believe them, wouldn't believe that Todoroki Rei wasn't her mother. That the white hair she'd inherited from her biological father wasn't actually from Rei.

Perhaps using her family name was Enji's way of reminding her that she wasn't a Todoroki? To help her remember her real parents so that their memory didn't die along with them.

No, he wasn't that kind. It was salt rubbed into a wound, a reminder that the people she lived with, her siblings that she loved dearly, were not her real family. He would be that cruel.

She had paused in swapping her shoes. "Yes, sir," she replied robotically, slipping her heel in. She didn't dare look up at the man, instead training her eyes on her shoes. She never could stand up for herself to the man, and she hated how weak it made her feel. How weak he made her feel.

Enji eyed her critically. "I expect you to perform as well as my Shouto. The world has high expectations of the both of you and you'll do well to meet them. I won't have you as a smear on my name."

"Leave her alone." Shouto appeared in the entryway, glaring daggers at Enji. "Akira will outperform everyone and she'll do it without you. You won't earn a shred of credit."

Enji flared in anger, the ever present fire roaring to life. Akira never recalled a moment when he wasn't flaunting his quirk, his raw power and prowess with it.

"You should have put her up for recommendation," Shouto continued matter-of-factly. "You know she—"

"It's fine, Shouto," Akira interrupted quietly. "It's like you said, I'll outperform everyone today." She gathered her courage and chanced a look at Enji's face. He'd been glaring at Shouto, slightly slack jawed, but had turned apathetic when Akira spoke. She swallowed thickly. "I won't fail. I will become a real hero."

Shouto accompanied her on the walk to the train station. Fuyumi had too much work to do with the upcoming school semester and Natsuo had already left for college, which suited Akira just fine. She didn't want to think about how she'd perform if she knew her siblings were actually going to be there. She'd probably choke and then what? Shouto was just dropping her off at the station since he'd already taken his recommendation exam a few weeks ago.

Enji had been less than impressed with his second place ranking, despite it still securing his spot at U.A High, despite the first place student not even choosing U.A in the end.. Instead, he just used it to once again drill into the boy that he would be undefeatable if he would stop being childish and use his fire.

"Do you really think I'll be that good today?" Akira broke their comfortable silence. She would need to place first in the rankings, Enji would accept nothing less from her. She wasn't his actual child, she couldn't get away with anything less than the best—

"Of course," Shouto said without hesitation. "Forget what that bastard said."

She stumbled over her thoughts, caught off guard. "But—"

"You'll do great," he insisted. "Better, even, than me. They'll all see how stupid it was that you weren't put up for recommendation and dear old dad will get called out for it."

She furrowed her brows in concern. "You really think I'll be that good with this quirk? Shouldn't I—"

Shouto glanced at her, his eyes sharp. She swallowed the rest of her words. "Please, sis, not this again." His gaze fell on her duffel bag. "Did you remember your gloves?"

Akira sighed loudly, but nodded regardless. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm just frustrated about it. I wish it could be different."

"I know." He brought up a hand to her shoulder in a comforting gesture, though his hand on her scar made it feel quite the opposite. It just reminded her of the circumstances behind it. "We'll both become the best with only half our power. I'm right here with you."

"You're right," she relented, offering him a soft smile. "We're in this together."

She decided to push back the thoughts that had been nagging at her ever since she submitted her expression of interest to U.A's hero course. The thoughts that told her she shouldn't hold herself back, that she should grow up already, it was her quirk and there was no need to be scared of it. The slight tug on her neck, of the taught scar she'd had for as long as she could remember, reminded her that it absolutely was something to be scared of. Something she had no control over.

Shouto was right, he had always been right. She could make do with her quirk as it was, she didn't need to go pushing her luck.

Akira was bursting with energy. After the uneventful written portion of the exam, after listening to one boring looking boy grate on her nerves by mumbling under his breath for most of the practical lecture, after having a stiff-looking boy interrupt said lecture to try and call U.A out on an error, Akira was left with nothing but barely contained anticipation. With how well prepared she had been for the written exam, she was feeling more confident now in her abilities to pass the practical than she had all morning.

She had been assigned to Battle Station A. Most of the people in her batch weren't particularly interesting, though there were a few standouts that she made sure to identify. A boy with a bird head caught her attention, as well as a boy with six arms that towered high above everyone. Mutant quirks always fascinated her in their diversity. They weren't so much of a surprise as emitter class quirks were.

One boy in particular looked angry being there and glared at anyone who got within his very large personal bubble. He looked ready to commit murder and Akira decided then and there that she'd keep her distance. She didn't know what his quirk was, but just going by the animosity he radiated she didn't like her chances if she were pitted against him. Present Mic had said fighting between participants was strictly prohibited, but this boy looked like he didn't give a shit. His feral grin did nothing to ease her and she briefly wondered what his motivations behind becoming a hero were.

Another boy looked like he was ready to pass out on the spot. He also looked like he'd been recently electrocuted, his purple hair standing on end and defying gravity in an impossible fashion. She wondered if he actually had been electrocuted and that was the only reason he was awake. He didn't look particularly threatening, though it was possible his quirk could give him an upper hand.

"Right, let's start!" the unnaturally loud voice of Present Mic boomed around the entire fake city. Akira heard him loud and clear, but he was definitely nowhere to be seen. "Get moving! There are no countdowns in real battles! Run, run, run listeners! You're wasting air time here!"

Akira immediately sprung forward, raising a wall of ice behind her. The ice towered high, caging in her fellow examinees with a shout of surprise. Without looking back, she wasn't able to focus the barricade to properly trap her competitors, but it would give her at least a few seconds advantage. That's all she needed, it would give her time to secure the early bird advantage and figure out a plan of attack. Complaints from her group fell on deaf ears as she ran down the street, taking a right turn just as she heard a loud explosion from behind her.

She had no time to pay the explosion any attention. Several one pointer robots jumped out from seemingly nowhere and locked onto her immediately. She struck out with frigid air, freezing their mechanics. She summoned more ice, blossoming crystals within their cores to tear them apart—

An explosion rang loud in her ear and suddenly Akira found herself slammed into the ground from the force. She smacked her elbows hard, jarring up along her arms painfully, as she was thrown on her ass. With her ears still ringing and her vision slightly shot from the sudden brightness, she saw her frozen robots crumpled in defective heaps on the ground, utterly destroyed. The angry boy stepped into her view, wearing a pleased, slightly feral grin at the destruction he'd wrought.

She ran her mouth faster than her brain could tell her it wasn't the wisest idea. "Hey, those were mine!"

The smile on the boy turned down instantly, a sneer on his lips and anger in his eyes directed down at her. "You pull a shifty move like that again and I'll fucking kill you, rules be damned," the boy growled at her in warning, his hands popping with small scale explosions. "Stay out of my way, extra."

By the time Akira found her feet, the angry boy was gone.

Adrenaline fueling her, Akira ran off to secure actual points this time. Anger caused her ice to be overly destructive, which was a bonus since no hot headed angry boy could come along and snatch her points. Who did that angry boy thing he was, taking her points right out from under her nose. And giving her a death threat! Just what kind of hero did this angry boy intend to be if he would so casually throw such threats? A tenacious one. Her gut dropped at the thought that he would most likely pass the exam with such ferocity.

As she rounded yet another corner, caught up in her own thoughts, she found a two pointer. She readied herself for assault instantly, but the robot paid her no attention. Weird. Another step forward and the robot reared back, revealing the tired looking boy. He was cornered against the building wall, looking utterly terrified and frozen in place.

Akira moved before she could think. It wasn't about taking the points, not this time. If it had been the angry boy, it probably would have been. But, she had no beef with this tired boy, so jumping in to destroy the robot wasn't about the points. No, it was about saving the boy, since he didn't look like he was going to make a move against the agile robot, neither to attack nor to flee. Her ice surged forward and destroyed the robot in seconds.

"You aren't going to get any points just standing there!" Akira shouted, masking the slight panic she felt at the sight with tactless humour. Her attention was yanked away from the boy as a three pointer stumbled into view, a little ways down the street. "Hey, you can take that one! Fair's fair for stealing your two pointer!"

The boy looked down the street and blanched. He nearly snapped his neck looking back to Akira. "I— I can't." He sounded so heartbroken, so frustrated, so defeated. So many emotions all wrapped in two and half words.

Akira frowned. She approached the boy, keeping an eye on the three pointer. It lumbered slowly towards them, but wouldn't be a threat for at least another thirty seconds. She had time to figure out what was troubling the tired boy. "What do you mean? Are you hurt?"

The boy scowled, turning away from her. "My quirk isn't combative like yours. I wasn't blessed with something so heroic."

She tilted her head in confusion. It wasn't uncommon for quirks to not have combative properties; in fact a vast majority of them weren't. "Why are you here then?" It came off blunt, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't a secret that the practical side of the entrance exam into the hero course was primarily combative, so why was this boy trying if his quirk couldn't be used in combat?

He didn't have any time to respond as an impossibly loud stomp shook the ground, tearing both their attention away from each other to down the street. The three pointer wasn't there anymore, instead crushed to dust by the imposing step of the zero pointer. While its movements were slow, the distance it covered was massive; it would descend upon the pair in mere seconds.

Moving before thinking, Akira grabbed the boy by the wrist and booked it. In hindsight, she was thankful he had long sleeves. Despite Shouto's reminder about her gloves, she'd forgotten to put them on.

The two ran as fast as they could, the tired boy finding his feet and not dragging behind Akira anymore, his height giving him advantage as he overtook the girl and helped her along. It became clear very quickly that they weren't going to outrun the beast of a robot as one of its heavy footfalls fell mere metres away from them. The shockwaves from the stomp interrupted their step and set them off balance and suddenly they were eating shit.

Akira took one look at the boy, trying to find his feet to continue scrambling away. She looked back up at the impossibly huge robot and made her mind up. Rolling onto her back, she threw her arms up and icy air rushed forward. In unison, ice surged along the ground, finding the robot's base and crawling up the structure. Akira put all her effort into making it cold, colder, colder than she had ever dared before, knowing it would take more ice than she'd ever created to put the robot out of commission.

It didn't even look like her ice was having an affect. The robot reared back, sights set on Akira's prone form on the ground, but she didn't back down. She felt the ice forming on her arms as she continued to lower the temperature, but she didn't stop. She barely even heard Present Mic's announcement, she didn't register how many minutes remained. All she could focus on was calling upon more ice, more than she had ever before.

Just as a tendril of hopelessness began to coil around her heart, as tears pricked at her eyes out of sheer desperation, the nagging feeling that she might actually die right there as the robot's hand began to come down on her, she felt hands grab her under the arms. The boy pulled her across the ground, just far enough away that when the robot struck the ground, she was out of harm's way.

Akira didn't even spare the boy a glance as she poured more ice into the machine, feeling her muscles lock as the cold tensed up her whole body. And then, it was working. The robot creaked and groaned as it tried to move, but its joints were jammed with ice and its inner workings were frozen solid. It broke down as its own mechanism tore itself apart from the inside out.

"I-is i-i-it—?" she stuttered, her ice tapering off as she reached her limit.

"Yeah, I think you did it," the boy replied, his voice wavering. He looked down at her with a mixed expression, both impressed and terrified of the power she possessed.

Akira sighed with relief, letting her arms fall to the ground. Her teeth were chattering and if she wasn't careful, she'd probably bite her tongue off. Despite that, she needed to get back onto her feet, to make sure the tired boy was okay. What kind of hero would she make if she couldn't recover from a desperate attack?

"--and that's it! Time's up!" came the booming voice of Present Mic, followed by a siren, calling an end to the examination. It was such a lackluster announcement, so sudden and unexpected after taking down something so impossible.

The boy hovered awkwardly over her. Akira struggled to sit up, to find her feet, but she'd severely overdone it. If she couldn't warm herself up soon, she'd probably get frostbite from how much ice that had built up on her arms and hands.

"Uh, do you need a hand?" the boy finally asked, holding his hand out.

"N-n-no, it's f-fine. I'm just c-cold. Th-thanks though."

The boy pulled his hand back, bringing it to the back of his neck awkwardly. He looked away, to the group of students that had congregated nearby. They'd seen the entire show. "Thank you," he eventually said, not looking at Akira again. Before she could respond, before she could ask if he was okay, he began to move away, to join the crowd and await further instruction. She'd probably never see him again, and part of her was troubled by that.

Still, the exam was over. She estimated a total of thirty five points, though in all honesty she had lost count at one point. There had been other things more pressing than keeping track. Her stunt with the zero pointer would probably earn her a lot of spotlight, though, not that she'd even been thinking about it in the heat of the moment. All she could think of was saving the tired boy, she hadn't even considered her own safety in that wild, desperate attempt. Just what had possessed her to do that?

Akira hadn't seen Enji all week. It was both a relief and a stress, since she had no idea when the man would turn up next and rip into her for her performance. She didn't dare think that she would be praised for her efforts against the zero pointer. He'd probably tell her off for taking so long to take it down, for putting that tired boy in harm's way in the first place. Hell, he'd probably tell her off for making enemies with the angry boy from the start. Yeah, there was no way she was going to get anything other than criticism for her performance.

She guessed she'd find out after the test results were out, which... yeah, that was today, wasn't it?

That was probably why she was out in the courtyard, distracting herself and procrastinating the inevitable, sparring with Shouto. Sparring was putting it very loosely, since the pair practiced their ice more than anything. It was how Akira had managed to gain such control over her ice in the first place, training it against her brother.

They were evenly matched, though Akira's ice had more facets to it than Shouto's. She had to be careful to not freeze the air too much, since breathing in the frigid air hurt like a bitch and was actually really dangerous. She found that one out the hard way, felt the ice prick at her chest and a feeling not unlike dying washing over her. At least she knew the limit.

Fuyumi watched in awe at her siblings and their mastery of their quirks. She hadn't had the drive or passion to master her quirk to such a degree, instead choosing a more practical career. Still, she was so very proud of her younger siblings. She shouted her praise to them, calling their attention. They backed off each other immediately as Fuyumi approached them.

"You two are terrifying," Fuyumi remarked with a giggle. She waved an innocuous letter as she walked over, offering it to Akira with a warm smile. "It's for you, sis, from U.A."

Akira felt her heart hammer in her chest and she looked at the offending letter like it would combust. "Oh. Right. Yeah, that was today, huh." Stupid. So stupid.

Fuyumi just laughed at her. "Don't pretend you haven't been looking forward to it all week. Go on, open it. I can't wait to tell everyone my baby sister's going to U.A. as well!"

Akira chuckled as she took the letter. "You sound so confident that I passed."

"There's no doubt that you did," Shouto spoke up. "I'm interested to see how they scored the regular entrance exam as opposed to the recommendation one."

"Boring," Fuyumi poked her tongue out, leaning on his shoulder. "This isn't about you, mister big shot. Quit trying to steal Akira's limelight."

Shouto sputtered. "I'm not, I was just saying—"

"I'm just teasing you," Fuyumi relented. "Now, come on, Akira! Open it up already!"

Akira breathed deeply, letting out a long, drawn out sigh. "Well, it was nice living here," she deadpanned as she tore open the letter.

Kagami Akira ended up scoring thirty six villain points. The faculty had been impressed with her quick thinking and selflessness in saving Shinsou Hitoshi, coupled with her raw power in taking down the zero pointer, granting her an additional forty rescue points. With a total of seventy six points, she ranked second for the entrance exam, undoubtedly securing her spot in the hero course at U.A.

#bnha #mha #bnha x oc #mha x oc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanfic #bnha fanfic #bnha writing #mha fanfic #winter roulette

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